We all have experienced the dumpsters across the collegiate, scholastic, and elementary school landscape that roll up towards the end of season. Loads of paper containing sordid gems of activity make their way out of loackers, bags and desks into the various recycling recepticles. From there, they are taken to be processed by MACHINES. Yes, machines… the very things we have grown fond of, the very things we want the latest of, the best of, the most of. However, in case no one has been noticing, in proportion to our humanist drive to want, and to embrace, there rises an effective hydra, known as the counter-force. This is the force of rejection, and of sadness. This, then, is what the machines that we leave behind aquire in proportion to the very desire with which we want them. For every 1968 mustang convertible some muscled out street-cred guy desires, theres 1000 dodge colts languishing in vengeful rustyards. Its to these machines, and to the rise of these machines, that we offhandedly turn over the cumalative efforts of our younger generations knowledge. This is dangerous, and it must stop. Please help out by destroying by fire any such information you may happen across in you daily routine. And please, wont you help spread the word? People need your help. In this issue, we revive some of the wasted information available in an attempt to save it from the machines. Wont you heed this cry for help? Thank you, Kathleen Toffler, Editor.

Collected Thoughts of a Barbecue Philosopher

Now, folks, Smokey will tell you what’s on his mind in a heartbeat. So
it was when we were having lunch one day last fall out at Pete’s Piggy
Palace in Lizard Lick, North
Carolina. Here are excerpts from our conversation that
afternoon over a barbecue sandwich or three.

Choice Pieces

Copyright