00000 0 0 0 0 %%%%%%% 0 0 % | [] [] 000000 ___ % | [][] [][] 0 0 | \ %%%%% ___| ()()() [] [] [] 0 0 OOO |____\ % / | () () [] [] 0 0 O O | \ % | | () () [] [] 0000000 OOO | \ %%%%%%%%% \___| ()()() [] [] 111111111 B O R E D O M 1 1 I N C A R N A T E 1 1 <|\ <| 1 <|<\ <| ___ + + @@@@@ ------- eeee 1 <| <\ <| kkkkk ) \ ++ + @ @ | e 1 <| <\ <| k /\ )___\ + + + @ @ | eeee 1 <| <\<| k /__\ ) \ + ++ @ @ | e 111111111 <| <\| kkkkkk / \ ) \ + + @@@@@ @ | eeeee (I know the ascii art sux and if you can come up with something better than prove it!) _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ EDITORIAL SMEDITORIAL... The Core of the Bore Speaks: Welp, this is the first jump off of a cliff for this zine. Hopefully we won't go splat and have to pick ourselves up as a bag of cartoon jelly. You've been picked out of the many who are on the Netbore to get a copy of BOREDOM INCARNATE (or destiny has so ordained that a copy come into your possession and someone is doing their job to pass it on). We just picked out a bunch of addresses and sent it out. If you want a regular subscription (or would at least like the next ish) just read the 'disclaimer & etc.' at the end. Otherwise i won't send you the next ish cause I don't want to use more than my share of the bandwidth more than once. If you like this (or even if you hate it for that matter) send it on to someone who might equally like, hate, or better yet be indifferent towards this zine. That administrivia aside let me tell you about my indifferent vision of what BOREDOM INCARNATE is. This is the zine for all the bored masses who joyfully languor in their ennui. We allow for a the segments of the world containing bland prose and stilted metaphors. (In fact we're so bored we actually put this schtuff together.) We want to be the voice of the bored--those who have found that the initial excitement of an first experience only leads to a later boredom in this modern world where any experience can be bought at a mini-mall or vending machine whether in reality or virtuality. The world is boring, we are the kings and queens of bore, and this is the Boredom we rule! We are human humdrums, monotony made flesh--we are BOREDOM INCARNATE! @whew! That took a lot out of me. Time for a nap filled with dreams of Magic Shell. Enjoy. ---jason 'rapidly more vapid' ronallo (((((((O)))))))(((((((O)))))))(((((((O)))))))(((((((O)))))))(((((((O))))))) O)))))))(((((((O)))))))(((((((O)))))))(((((((O)))))))(((((((O)))))))(((((((O L I S T L E S S N E S S (aka de contents...if you get too bored with one section you can use your wordprocessor to search for (#.#> to quickly find the next section. We also feel free to include hidden sections without making you aware of them in this list...) (1.1> Alternate names for this zine (1.2> Conclusions You Can Come To When You're So Bored You Experiment On Yourself: THE MED IS IN THE RED (1.3> Bland Recipe #1: Stale Ramen (send us your fave tasteless recipies!) (1.4> Bran Where Brians Should Be: Review of the movie _Brainscan_ (1.5> Plan File Surf --katst12@vms.cis.pitt.edu (I get bored sometimes I randomly finger accounts of people online. I found this plan to especially propagate the dispirit of BOREDOM INCARNATE. If you possess a plan file you believe to be nifty-o-rooni, send us a copy of it or the address so we can appropriate it for use here. And if you've come across any interesting plan files in your surfing give us the address so we can check it out). (1.6> *yawn* naptime story: THE BEEHIVE by Jason Ronallo. I include this since I've seen a lot of bored people in coffee shops. I've been one of them. (This storyette was inspired by Orion Wertz, artist extraordinaire, upon one visit of his to the Beehive coffee house of the Oakland district of Pittsburgh. [You locals know it, but I need to fill in gaps for those who might find this hidden in a virtual village in the hinterland of the Netjungle]). (1.7> "I'm So Bored I..." -- a regular featured column (1.8> Disclaimer & Etc. (look here for info on subscriptions/ submissions). 0\/0\/0\/0\/0\/0\/0\/0\/0\/0\/0\/0\/0\/0\/0\/0\/0\/0\/0\/0\/0\/0\/0\/0\/0\/0 0/\0/\0/\0/\0/\0/\0/\0/\0/\0/\0/\0/\0/\0/\0/\0/\0/\0/\0/\0/\0/\0/\0/\0/\0/\0 (1.1> POSSIBLE ALTERNATE NAMES FOR THIS ZINE 1. Humdrum Hilights 2. Weekly World-Weary News 3. Uninteresting Unillustrated 4. Tedium Times 5. Doldrums Digest 6. Monotony Monthly 7. Ennui Quarterly \-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\ (1.2> Science Section OR Conclusions You Can Come To When You're So Bored You Experiment On Yourself: THE MED IS IN THE RED I came home the other night with a sore throat like I'd been sucking on the exhaust pipe of bus for too long after drinking tacks. Usually when i've got a dagger in my throat i drink some cough medicine or spray some non-prescription liquid to the back of my mouth or suck on some menthol nuclear radiation emanating waxy paper wrapped drop or bless myself with a cherry Luden's candy. The Luden's candy is the only one that makes me happy, though most say it's not a medication I think that it probably does about as good as any of the others. I hate taking bad tasting named- cherry-just-to-sucker-you-in cough medicines. My folx used to have sit on me and hold my nose to make me take cough medicines. But now that I've made the discovery of the year no kid will ever have to take hold-your-nose medicines again or try to be healed by the dosage!! I've discovered the mystery ingredient in these non-prescription drugs that actually turns the trick. Since my throat was sore I wanted something cool to drink to soothe me so I could get some work done on a paper for a critical reading class that I'm taking (but I'm sure you don't want to hear about the discourse of treason in Shakespeare's _Tempest_ [though of course you might find it more exciting than this:]). So anyways, I went to the fridge to snag me a pre-cooled beverage rather than a wait-until-it-cools-ice-filled-glass- and-then-at-the-end-the-ice-falls-and-hits-you-in-the-teeth-ouch! beverage. And low and behold there was a fresh pitcher of red Kool-Aid. I poure d myself a Kennywood amusement park sized plastic cup worth and gurgled it down. To my amazement my sore throat went away--vanished like data from a disk brought up to a magnet. Now we all know that band-aids cover up boo-boo's, but I never knew before that Kool-Aid covers up sore throats (and I conjecture other ailments)!!!!!! My theory (it's no hypothesis anymore as I've now tried the same experiment on my bro and it worked again with scientific predictability) is that it's actually the red coloring which is the healing agent in all throat logenzes and not the other drugs. Notice how most of the Robitussins are of a red variety. Even the ones that aren't red you can easily see how the coloring isn't a pure color and i conjecture that what color lies behind the outer masking color is in fact a red. And that's why Luden's cough drops can work without having any real medicine in them AND tasting good at the same time!! You see how liquid cough medicines are thick and cough drops are even denser. Both of these have a higher amount of red in them. Just by drinking a large amount of cherry Kool-Aid you can get the same healing affect of all these expensive non-prescription 'drugs'. Do you see the possible conspiracies that could be behind the hiding of this knowledge (and consequently why this article is so poorly written as i tremble in fright for my life)? Look at it this way: Who benefits by having this knowledge hidden? The drug manufacturers, of course. And who says what drugs are allowed to be sold as non-prescription? The FDA, of course. Here's my hypothesis: The FDA gets kickbacks from the 'legal' drug lords--the corporate conglomerates. All that the FDA has to do is call the thing a 'drug' making it fall under its control, and since the 'drugs' are under its power it can stop them from being sold. The FDA bribes the corporations which bow under the pressure of Big Bully Brother and gives the FDA a cut of their business. The FDA okays these 'drugs' and propagates that they have some sort of medication in them that actually helps someone with a sore throat or cough. They put unknown wordage on the labels so no ordinary citizen out of their control could decipher thereby believing in the mystery 'drug' to help them. (try looking at the labels sometime and tell me if you know what all that means...some of them even only contain 'active ingredients'. What are they trying to hide?). Anyways, what person that knows about all these drugs is really going to spend their time studying the contents of a normal cough medicine for _certainly_ they've been at it this long and must know what they are talking about. In essence what they've pulled on us is the old placebo trick. They make us think that there is some special healing 'drug' in these 'medicines' when all there really is is some polluted and thick Kool-Aid. "Why can't Kool-Aid then blatantly sell their product as a healing agent?" one may ask. Don't you get it! If Kool-Aid can sell its product as a medicine then the multi-gazillion $$ drug companies lose their business to a flavored drink manufacturer AND whole money scheme the FDA has orchestrated falls through. If Kool-Aid would even try to blatantly (I say 'blatantly' since 'aid' sounds suspiciously medicinal and is another clue in the whole business. Anyways couldn't Kool-Aid itself be in on this dastardly plot to hide the fact of affordable health care from the masses in order to make a buck? I know if I would openly attack Kool-Aid I would get a lot of flack from their auspicious and beloved and influential followers [amongst them the secret order of the Kool-Aid Monks] but I just throw this one question out: Could Kool-Aid actually have a drug in it that is not only helpful to healing but also slightly addictive? This would certainly confound and complicate the issues at hand. I mean they _are_ just a part of Kraft general foods, another big corporation [which has also fooled the public with their fake cheeze, but that's the topic of another expose'.) sell their drink as a healing agent the FDA would ban it or more slyly not allow it to be sold as a 'drug' and laugh at the mere proposal and the whole Public would laugh along with them, "Hardy har har! Kool-Aid can cure the common cold! Ha ha ha--a drug now?!" Well, laugh yourself if you will, but next time that you have a sore throat why don't you try to drink some good tasting cherry Kool-Aid instead of that expensive nasty tasting cough medicine (or some FD&C Red no. 40 if you can find it sold separately)? Send me any results of your self-experiments too, so that I can compile a report so the public can be educated as to the healing power of Kool-Aid. %\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\%\% (1.3> Bland Recipe #1: Stale Ramen 1. Take a long bus ride with the man telling weather jokes until you get to any grocery store worth the amount of salt inside and it should have Ramen (properly capitalized as it has now become an institution). 2. Walk up and down the isles and stare at all the singles looking for a date, and make sure that you look at the ingredients labels of Kool-Aid and cough medicines taking special note of Red no. 40. 3. If you feel especially dastardly and bored enough to do something juvinile and prankish, take an enema or other such personal product that is looked at with scorn/laughter and put it in a toys bin or with the specialty cheeses. 4. Eventually you should find some Ramen in the little single serving packets. 5. Close your eyes and spin around and when you're dizzy reach for the first packet of Ramen that comes to your hand and buy that one even if it's more expensive ($.50/packet) than the other brands ($1.00 for 10 packets) cause if you pick an expensive one you can always say that it must be better than the cheaper ones and if you get a cheaper pack then you can say that you are saving money by getting that brand. 6. Go to the front of the store and and pay for it (I don't suggest getting caught for stealing a pack of Ramen) while repeatedly telling the cashier something like this (at least get it close if you can't memorize it or else the recipe might not turn out right), "I'm going to eat this. Yes, I am. I'm going to eat this up. Yes, I am. It's going to be in my tummy. Yes, it is. I'm getting hungry. Yes, I am...." 7. Make sure not to accept a bag from the bagger since you won't need it for this recipe. 8. Go out through the motion sensitive doors (if the store has them). 9. Sit on a curb in the parking lot looking as if you are waiting for someone. Those of you who took my advice and caught a bus might want to just wait at the bus stop. 10. At this point you have a choice whether you like your Ramen chunky style or of a finer consistency. 11a. If you like it chunky style, open the bag throwing the little flavor packet at a passing Volvo or BMW (or highbrow car of your choice). 11b. If you like it of a finer consistency, then place the bag on the sidewalk and hit it repeatedly with your foot, hand, or smashing object or body part of your choice. For best results make sure to create a small hole at one end so that they bag doesn't explode on impact scattering some of your Ramen all over the side walk for any old bird or orally fixated kid to pick up and eat. 12. Enjoy eating your stale Ramen noticing the singular crispy and tastelessness of the uncooked noodles. (If you chose chunky style, then for an extra exciting puzzle try to get the individual noodles apart from the main block without breaking them anymore.) 13. Take the bus home wishing that you had bought something to drink. ()0Oo.oO0()0Oo.oO0()0Oo.oO0()0Oo.oO0()0Oo.oO0()0Oo.oO0()0Oo.oO0()0Oo.oO0() ()0Oo.oO0()0Oo.oO0()0Oo.oO0()0Oo.oO0()0Oo.oO0()0Oo.oO0()0Oo.oO0()0Oo.oO0() (1.4> BRAN WHERE BRAINS SHOULD BE: REVIEW OF _BRAINSCAN_ My bro's really into the comic scene (he's actually one of the dupes who thinks he'll be able to resell them someday for a profit thereby reasoning his way to spending that much money on them), and the comic shop that he frequents (like an alcoholic to the state store) mailed him a free pass to the movie _Branscan_...or rather _Brainscan_...for an advanced screening. He was allowed to take a guest so he decided that since his older bro could give him a ride he'd take me. I thought, "Heck a free movie. I'll go." And since I was bored and this would give me something to do I went (without my bro since he 'had homework to do', but i think that he was actually anticipating how of a movie this would be). The little summary we got of the movie that was supposed to have us interested in going to see it said that it had to do with a kid getting sucked into a horror CDi. As with most of the cheaper 'Virtual Reality' films which make it look like some dystopic landscape this one tries to bring the dystopia right into a normal kid-next-door setting like the Beaver gone bad, I knew i wouldn't like the movie as soon as i saw this free pin that my bro got (again from the comic shop) (why's he get all the free junk?). It had a pun at the bottom: "Reality Bytes." P-lease...gimme a break. (I would assume that such puns and also such luser treatment of VR would come from the mainstream as you can even notice the advertisement for WiReD *yawn* magazine on the coffee table). Let's get onto the actual review before I get really angry that they would even try to compare their sensory-deficient film with a movie that starred Winona Rider! (BTW, Winona, if you're reading this through some fluke transmission of these electrons through the space-time continuum, I just want to tell you that you excite me like to other [well...other than maybe Tori Amos and my ex-gf who kinda looked like you]). The movie goes something like this aimless run-on sentence: A high school kid who has everything in the way of the latest in hi-tech goodies, amongst them a voice activated phone with servile voice, including the lack of a parent figure (what high school kid wouldn't want that) since the father seems to be perpetually on business has the house to himself so he's able to blast his music on a stereo system that shouldn't be possessed by someone who plays his choice of musack yet he still prefers to walk up flights of stairs to the attic where his room is dispite the fact that he walks with an often unconvincing limp that he sustained while in a terrible car crash with his mother who died and after this time he seems to develop this twisted liking for cheezy hack-n-slash movies so much that he even starts a club in his high school (but for a movie hi-liting some kid into 'gore' the proverbial blood and proverbial guts were tame and laughable and for someone who hates movies with laughable pets in it the scenes where the dog has a foot in his mouth were the best part) which brings this sentence to the point where we can refer to the loose subplot of this kid liking the girl next door and even spies on her with his hi-tech binaculars (because he doesn't get any loving any other way unless you notice the one scene which if you look closely you can see his teledildonics set-up which he is evidentally hiding from his absent father) but none of this is the real story of the movie since he finds out through _Fangora_ about a new CD interactive game named Brainscan which is supposed to be the latest in virtual murder, but then to shorten up this sentence considerably and not to ruin *cough* the movie for you when you rent it in a few months for a $.99 special he gets sucked in and doesn't merely -virtually- commit murder but actually does, but oh you know it can't be that easy and there is a double trick ending which had me pshawing at how riduculous and predictable it was. On a scale of 1-5.5 diamonds, i'd give it 1.5: <> < <>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<> <-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-><-> (1.5> P L A N F I L E S U R F Here's a sampling of appropriated text from the plan file of katst12@vms.cis.pitt.edu. Thanx for letting us pillage your plan, Hayley! - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - C U T H E R E - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Once there once was a boy, who was mostly happy most of the time. His life was almost completly complete. He knew, however, that there were two things that were missing from his life, but he didn't know what they were. Then one day the boy's family took him to an Italian restaraunt. The boy had never had Italian food before, and he was mesmerized by the exotic sound- ing names of the dishes. He asked about the lasagna, and it sounded delicious. He ordered the lasagna, and it _was_ delicious. The boy knew, that one of the things that was missing from his life was no longer missing. --> An interesting quote from a recent Mac mag article: "Newspapers give the impression that the Internet is some kind of transnational CB, populated by bores, obsessives, and couch potatoes." Wonder where they get that idea??? --> "Analogies are rocks in my underwear." Brian Scott, artist. If what I'm saying doesn't make any sense, that's because sense cannot be made. It's something that must be sensed! And I, for one, am insensed by all of this complacency!! Why oppose war only when there is a war? Why defend the clinics only when they're attacked?! Why support the squads in the parks only when police come to close them down?? Why are we always reactive? Let's activate something!! Let's fuck shit up!! Whatever happened to revolution for the hell of it??? Whatever happened to protesting nothing in particular, just protesting...because it's Saturday, and there's nothing else to do... [ed. This is the true spirit of the Boredom! Revolution out of Boredom!] "There's only one thing that I know how to do well and I've often been told that you only can do what you know how to do well and that's be you, be what you're like, be like yourself, and so I'm having a wonderful time but I'd rather be whistling in the dark." TMBG [ed. always a fave] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - C U T H E R E - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - (1.6> THE BEEHIVE by Jason Ronallo (jnrst9@cis.vms.pitt.edu) "Would you draw me a _bad_ picture of Satan? I'll give you five bucks," Vern asked the sketchbook in front of him. A papier-mache Gregor Samsa and ten busted curling irons hang from the ceiling of the Beehive Coffee House. A sandwich- board sign painted with a woman with wing-tipped glasses and hair styled in the trademark beehive lists the 23 varieties of foreign coffees sold. Purple and green bagels sit underneath a covered glass dish on the counter. Every wall of this sitting room has a continuous mural depicting the life of Ultra Violet in flat medieval iconographic style. Monks of Doom plays on the Panasonic radio-clock behind the counter just loud enough that every over-the-counter communication contains repetitions. Several local political and environmental action artists have painted the tables with such sage remarks as, "When you throw a puppy from a ship into the water it can swim to shore, but when you throw a baby from a ship into the water it drowns." Talbot sits at this table with his sketchbook, two female poets, and Vern. Talbot looks just over Vern's head and exhaustedly replies to Vern, "For the last time everything in this sketchbook I have drawn with my own hand, I don't like Suicidal Tendencies, and I won't draw you a _bad_ picture of Satan." "I was just asking man. You don't have to jag me like that." "Why do you treat Vern so harshly like he's a racist?" said the first poet. Talbot said, "Because he has 'skins' tattooed on his wrist, but he has long hair, and his name is Vern and he _is_ a racist though he denies it and he's gloomy and he repeats himself. I don't like people who repeat themselves." Vern's expression wiped off of his face like an Etch-a- Sketch. "That's no reason not to welcome him into the collective order of our generation and tolerate him," said the second poet tipped with correction. "I also don't like it when poets use double negatives." Vern felt depressed and itchy because of the talk started because of himself. "Will you marry me?" Vern asked the space in between both of the female poets. "No," was their instantaneous and harmonious reply. They looked at each other like they drank their coffee from metallic cups. Vern looked so hurt as looked around as if for escape. He keyed on on a table where a man wore a short sleeved dress shirt and shiny silk tie with acute triangle prints. The man had a portable CD player before him and ear- surrounding headphones on. Vern went over to him and asked loudly with almost evangelistic intent to be heard over the sound of the music, "Do you like Suicidal Tendencies?" "You don't have to talk so loud. This player is not functioning." The man spoke with a tone of barbed superiority like a suburbanite having to lower himself to talk to a country boy. "No, I think such thoughts when they permeate society will be the death of all art which is the true opiate of the people. Everything that manipulates existing materials or ideas such as religion and chimney sweeping is art and can keep people contented. When their minds are full of suicidal thoughts they do not create and therefore do not keep the society at peace." "I meant the group Suicidal Tendencies," said Vern dejectedly stung by the man's incomprehensible words. "That is what I was talking about." The man then pushed the play button of the CD player and listened, or pretended to be listening, to something other than societally damaging music. The first poet reaches across the table, but Talbot instead passes the cream to the poet who gives him sharp-eyed feminist scorn. She pours the white cream into a thick, black chocolate cappuccino. "Life's like this," she says deliberately about her object lesson but with dreaminess of thought, as the cream mixes with the cappuccino to form a non-crayola color. "All people can come into this coffee house-- this city of refuge-- and be warmed by others." XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx (1.7> I'M SO BORED I... -"...play nerf basketball in my room--alone."--Justin Ronallo -"...shot myself in the head."--Kurt Cobain (many times the only way to mourn is to laugh--to laugh deeply and existentially) -"...stand at the sink with the facet water barely running and make tiny minimalist sculptures out of ice cubes"--Jason Ronallo (your editor) [This section is a little sparse and boring right now, because we need your input! If you would like to include what you do when you are/have been bored in our regular 'I'M SO BORED I...' section, please send me some email . We'd love to share your tedious times with you!;] *)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*) Things to possibly look forward to in the next ish, but we make no promises: -Theme of next ish: BOREDOM CAN BE DANGEROUS (Send us your stories of how boredom became dangerous!) -Review of the opening of the Andy Warhol MVSEVM -PLAN FILE SURF II: Electric Boogaloo! -Whatever else we feel like...send us your submissions and we might feel like that... {}.{}.{}.{}.{}.{}.{}.{}.{}.{}.{}.{}.{}.{}.{}.{}.{}.{}.{}.{}.{}.{}.{}.{}.{}.{} ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` (1.8> DISCLAIMER & Etc. (aka protecting ourselves from trouble and also taking care of some administrivia also this is a waste of you time): _Boredom Incarnate_ is an @nti-copyright publication and completely a work of poorly written fiction by its good-intentioned and bored editors where it is not specifically noted otherwise who the author is. Where other authors are named (if we ever get submissions) they may have a copyright on their work as listed. This publication is offered to you for free and is to be freely distributed in entirety with all references to copyrights and the authors' names (or it might self-destruct like an Inspector Gadget secret directive) through electrons or in a print-out form or included on BBS or FTP sites, but we would ask that you would be kewl about protecting their individual right to their work and not accept any money for their _work_. Heck, the editors don't expect any money to come from this dust rag (we of course would accept any monetary donations be sent to Jason Ronallo, 38 Edinburg Dr., PGH, PA 15235. and then maybe we can improve it;), but most of the authors might like to use the great fame that they will recieve from the wide (or not so wide) distribution to make a dollar so they don't have to eat Ramen for the rest of their lives (not to say ramen is bad or anything; i just eat it a bit too often). All authors whose stories, poems, scraps of electron transmissions, excess wordage, quotes, and art have been included in _Boredom Incarnate_ agreed to the free distribution of this work without any compensation from the editors other than as wide a distribution as they have time for in order to bring the authors fame but not necessarily fortune. _Boredom Incarnate_ will be distributed every as-often-as-they- feel-like-it and is partially dependent on how many good .txt submissions they recieve. To subscribe to the unautomated distribution of _Boredom Incarnate_ send email to jnrst9+@pitt.edu and include one thing that you do when you are bored for inclusion in our "I'm So Bored I..." section knowing full-well that we may or may not include it and that you agree to no compensation for the quote. This is the sentence which includes any disclaimer type thingys that we've otherwise neglected that would clear the editors from all legal responsibility for the contents. .