<=============================> < > < ANTI-PRESS EZINE #27 > < > <=============================> "We're Positive About The Negative" A September E-dition (C) Copyright 2001 Anti-Press All Rights Reserved ============================================================= * The Battle With Plattsburgh * Boom! Bang! Ba-BOOM! Ho-hum. Drifting through our open window here in the Precision Reality Center -- the distant sounds of pseudo-battle. It's the Battle of Plattsburgh weekend, a time to celebrate the victory of the American forces over the British during the War of 1812. Developmentally-arrested, adulthood-challenged clowns -- oops, we mean "re-enactors" -- are down by the lake, recreating one of the key fights, wearing authentic pseudo-uniforms and firing genuine pseudo-weapons. We returned a few days ago from a very enjoyable vacation with some friends who live near a real city with real events. Now we have to tolerate this nonsense, a desperate attempt by the 'Burgh to pump up a historical footnote into a big holiday with kids' games, fried dough, and colorfully-dressed clowns playing soldier. Compared to our vacation activities, it's anti-climatic. After our relaxing and energizing vacation, we thought it would take this place a while to get on our nerves. But within a couple of days the 'Burgh hit the fan; we found ourselves soon re-engaging in our long-standing battle with this pseudo-city. Why? Read on... * Brainless Blonde Almost Carnages Anti-Press! * Thanks to our superior reflexes we are typing this without the use of a high-tech wheelchair with a blow-tube to operate our computer. We had been riding our bicycle along a sidewalk when a car backed out from a driveway, almost smashing into us. The idiot driver just threw her car into reverse and took off like a blonde bat outta hell. Since we were riding uphill, we were moving at a slow pace. We shouted at the driver, missing her rear bumper by two feet. She squealed her car to a sudden stop. There was no excuse for her recklessness. No trees or bushes sat at the entrance of the driveway to obstruct the view of the sidewalk; we were in plain sight. The driver glared at us, even thought we had the right-of-way. We yelled about the idiocy evinced by her actions, how if we were a kid we could've been easily killed. Keeping an eye on her car, we made our way along the sidewalk, adding a comment about her lack of brains. Her boyfriend/husband was sitting on the front steps; he never bothered to warn her about our presence on the sidewalk. So why did he call _us_ an asshole as we pedaled away? And as we made our way uptown, the woman in her big white car yelled across three lanes of traffic, also calling us an asshole. Such language, especially with her young daughter in the front seat. Then again, she's just raising her daughter to be just like her, a Plattsburghian bimbo who acts brainlessly and then blames the victim for her own reckless actions. How many of these bimbos are in _your_ community? * Bicyclist or Pedestrian: Which Nigger Do You Want To Be? * This latest bike-car incident (see previous article) doesn't surprise us; it's the second time that someone almost backed into us with a full-sized vehicle. The first time the driver, a male bimbo, called us a name and in return we threw a suitable comment his way as we kept pedaling down the street. He didn't like our comment and he chased us with his car, blocking us off on the sidewalk. He jumped out of his car to grab us but his reflexes, typical of a slow-witted inbred Plattsburgher, were no match for ours. We simply raced around him. He blocked us off a second time but to no avail; we escaped the slope-headed troglodyte with ease. With the Plattypussies around here, age doesn't matter either when it comes to idiot drivers. One time we had the right-of-way on the street. An old woman, her limited Plattsburghian intelligence even lower due to age, was driving a full-sized sedan, leaving the parking lot of a McDonald's restaurant. She saw us coming towards her on our bike -- and then proceeded to turn right in front of us, violating our right-of-way. She gave us a look as if to say: "You must yield to me; I have a car." That's why we prefer to ride on the sidewalk, even though technically it's against the law. The sidewalk gives us more space from the idiots with cars. At the same time we're more careful to watch out for driveways. Be it noted: technically it's illegal to back out of a driveway into traffic. We don't consider our violation of riding on the sidewalk to be worse than that. Also, we always yield to pedestrians, riding on the grass. After all, it's a sidewalk, not a bike path. Too bad the inbred young yahoos around here don't think that way when we're on foot and they come blasting down the sidewalk from behind, almost knocking us over. And don't get us going on how drivers ignore crosswalks; we've been almost mowed down a few times that way. Either by foot or pedal, you're a second-class citizen here in The City That Don't Werk. Remember that if you ever come to visit. Wear a crash helmet -- and know a good lawyer back home. * The Battle of Plattsburgh (For Respect) * A few critics say that we're unfair in our attacks on The City That Don't Werk. To some we are the lone nut finding fault with a perfect utopian community. Well, we aren't the only ones who have picked on the 'Burgh. Over the years this place has been mentioned in various media and not always with kindness. Take the gang behind the old TeeVee show, SCTV, that ran back in the 1970s. The performers, such as John Candy, were recruited from the Second City comedy troupe in Canada. NBC has been re-running the series late at night and a while back we caught an episode featuring a newscast sketch. One reporter talked about the clean-up in Plattsburgh, how the city picked up all the maggot-ridden garbage around downtown and then trucked it away to a location outside the municipal limits. This way, observed the reporter, Plattsburgh would now have a downtown separate from its city dump. Obviously this place is facing a long battle to gain respect. APE is only a small voice compared to NBC-TeeVee. Anyway, let's move along to other news... * Ho, Ho, Ho! Santa's On The Dole! * Here's a switch: instead of giving, Santa Claus for the summer is taking. As mentioned in the previous e-dition, NENYland's former star attraction, Santa's Workshop, is suffering hard times. The owner was all set to hand over the park to a buyer but the deal fell through. Visitors have shown up this summer to find the amusement park closed and Santa out of work. Ol' Saint Nick -- billed as "Santa Claus" (with the enclosed quotation marks) -- was interviewed on the TeeVee news. "Santa" told the boys and girls not to worry, that everything was being done to keep his summer home alive. Poor guy, with that thick white beard and heavy red suit, stuck in line at the welfare office during the heatwave. The (news)Paper also ran a story on the park's closure. One reader, a former elf at Santa's Workshop, took the Paper to task for its article. She wrote a letter to the editor, complaining that it was in poor taste because the "picture and statement of Santa being played by someone and being laid off" was ruining the fun for children who still believe. The elf's letter was well-intentioned but she didn't think the situation through. OK, let's say some still-believing kids saw the article but didn't buy it because reporters are a bunch of lying and incompetent bastards (to quote their parents). Now an elf comes along -- someone the kids trust -- and this insider blows the deal by verifying what was stated in the article was true, i.e. Santa isn't real. A brilliant move, eh? Then again, an elf ain't a genius. (Time for Santa's Workshop to find a better tutelary spirit.) * Ghost Mail * Not much email coming into the Precision Reality Center lately. To us email is like receiving messages from ghosts in the machine. Could more of you rattle your chains and wail? (Moaning is optional for our pulchritudinous female readers.) Anyway, we did receive one interesting note from a disgruntled reader who hails from The Land Down Under. Let us translate his observation from Australian into English: "Copulate Off, Vagina." Unfortunately he didn't add anything else to his missive to intelligently explain why he was upset with us. But you can discern tremendous knowledge from just three words. Obviously, while Australia is a land with many fine people, it also suffers from the presence of mentally-challenged malcontents. The disgruntled reader traces his ancestry back to the early days of his nation when Great Britain initially settled the continent with penal colonies. His bloodline can be directly linked to an 18th century criminal pervert who engaged in unnatural relations with a rabid kangaroo. More pleasant thoughts in our next e-dition. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Submitted works must be ready for publication (edited and proofread). Word Limit: 500 words. No sci-fi, poetry, sci-fi poetry, poetic sci-fi, etc. Do some research and read a couple of issues to find what we want. Submissions and readers' comments should be sent to Antipress1@aol.com. 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