Propaganda Unlimited

August 25, 1994 Volume One, Issue Five

"More Fun Than You Can Have Watching the OJ Trial!"


1. Introduction to Issue #7
by Midget Caesar

2. Propaganda by Mail

3. Video Games I'd Like to See
by Aquarius

4. Dystropia -- The Prayer of the Congealed Mass
by Midget Caesar

5. Fear and Loathing in Cyberspace, Part Seven
by Constantine

6. Dystropia Part ?, The Crossover Continues
by Midget Caesar

7. How I Got in Touch With My Inner Feelings About My Multiple Cross-Dressing Personalities
by Newt

8. Aquarius' Joke Corner (a new feature!)


Midget Caesar.......... Witness for the Prostitution, Head Writer.

Constantine............ D-FENS, Head Editor.

Oregano................ Tampered With Suspect's DNA, Evanston Correspondant.

Nyarlathotep........... Tampered With His Own DNA, Indiana Correspondant.

Newt................... Was Nowhere Near the Murder Scene, Writing Staff.

Aquarius............... Probably Did It, Writing Staff.

Psychotic Ambition..... Too Depressed to Kill Anyone, Writing Staff.

Comrade Slash.......... There Was No Political Value to the Killings Anyway, Writing Staff.

Malakai................ OJ in Disguise, Writing Staff.

Platinum Ego........... Kato in Disguise, Writing Staff.

Dr. Fig................ Dr. Fig in Disguise, Writing Staff.

and, of course...

Two Fish............... The Arbiter of All That is Cool.

Come Along And Ride On The Fantastic Voyage
(slide slide slippedy slide):

The Rescue of the Strangeways Asylum
(sort of a "moving between places part two")

It was a dark and stormy night somewhere in Asia, but not here in Chicago. The die had been cast: Propaganda Unlimited was scheduled to make its grand comeback that very night, the moment Constantine got around to uploading the file to the labs of the Strangeways Asylum BBS. The moment huddled masses across the globe had waited for (Since America won't take your poor and huddled masses, we at PU will at least entertain them) had nearly arrived.

When I returned to the PU HQ after work, I prepared to pick up the new issue: to no avail. The Strangeways Asylum was offline. Nex, the console sysop, was on vacation. No explanation, no sane rationale for why the BBS was offline. Could it have been one of our assorted groups of enemies? Could it have simply been Milo, unhappy about his portrayal in the Dystropia/Fear And Loathing crossover? Or maybe it was Bill Gates, whose reasons I chose not to contemplate? I didn't know. But one thing was for sure: PU's return was delayed, and there would be hell to pay for this. (Or, if they were broke, we might be able to hit up Heaven for a few bucks)

A call the next morning from Nex, long distance from his Skydiving Convention, confirmed that foul play must have taken place, and not his early return as I had hoped. So if PU was to rise again, I was going to have to make the treacherous hour-long journey into the belly of the beast, also known as Nex's house, where the most feared of all demons awaited: His Mother.

After obtaining permission to do so, I began my journey. It required a train ride, getting on another train, and then a walk. The first train ride was simple enough. The second train was slow in arriving, and crowded upon arrival. Only after I sat down did I realize that the train was populated with demons, one of which was eating fried chicken. Damn. None of the real people sitting nearby seemed to realize that hellspawn were riding this train with them. How typical of humans. I disguised myself as a human, and hoped the hellspawn wouldn't notice me, and it worked. I got off the train at the end of the line and began the treacherous walk to Nex's house. The sounds of the Sisters of Mercy emanating from my Walkman warded off any evil, and soon I was there.

At this point in the story, an orphaned child enters. This child is only here to generate sympathy and compassion in the reader. The child's parents were killed in a tragic origami accident. After seeing a play in which a central character was killed by origami (coincidentally, this was a play in which I played a small role, making me partially responsible for their deaths), they believed that it couldn't happen to them. And they suffered because of it.

[exeunt Orphaned Child]

I had been instructed to knock on the back door to alert Nex's mother to my arrival, and though it may have appeared to an untrained eye that I was lost because I roamed through several alleyways trying to find the right house, I was actually shaking off a car that had been trailing me, so THERE. Nex's mother opened the door, and greeted me. Since she has attempted to murder me in the past after I gave her wrong directions to a high school [coincidentally, the same high school outside which I waited for the bus told about in Moving Between Places Part One, and also the same high school where I acted in a play that got me a role in the play in which the character was killed my origami, making Nex and his mother also partially responsible for the deaths of the child's parents, and bringing parts One and Two of this serial neatly full circle], I was a bit nervous. I walked into Nex's room, which had recently been cleaned, which seemed VERY suspicious. Nex's mother professed not to know what could have happened as I quizzed her about power outages and the like. Her story had no holes in it that I could find.....until she slipped up by changing the topic to how messy "Tommy" was. She then waved a knife at me, and as I was about to assume a protective stance, she told me that she had found it in Nex's room, slightly singed. Ah-Ha! A Murder plot, perhaps? Or computer sabotage? Then she mentioned how several things had been caught up in the vacuum cleaner bag - and I had my answer. She had been hired by one of our enemies to disconnect the computer's power supply briefly, just briefly enough to knock the BBS offline. I thanked her, and got her to leave. I slipped over to the power supply, made sure it was okay, and turned on the computer, loaded up Renegade, and my task was complete. After calling a friend to remote-test the BBS, all was ready, and not trusting fate to work in our favor, I called Constantine and had him upload the new issue of PU right then and there. And all was done - the BBS was safe. After messing up Nex's legions of Magic [tm] cards, I quickly left, Nex's mother's plot foiled. And I was gone.

To add a socially responsible side to this tfile, I strolled into the library, and got dirty looks when I wandered over towards the childrens' section, so I went into the more "mature" section of the library, and was summarily bored out of my mind, and since most of the people THERE seemed to be glaring at me, I left. The walk into the library had one positive side-effect, though - I found a free magazine called the "Illinois Entertainer" that had Tori Amos on the cover, and stories about the Mekons and the Church inside. (And it was a good interview, find it if you can)

The forces of evil, having been defeated, didn't interfere with my train ride home. And I was safe, and Propaganda Unlimited was safe to publish again another day.

(This TFile has been brought to you by Midget Caesar, with inspiration and dramatic aid from Oregano. Thank you for your support)

Propaganda By Mail
(Our Letters Column)

[As always, send letters to PU staffers on any of our official sites, or to our official box at PULETTERS@AOL.COM. We want to hear from ya. You never write, you know. Your mother is worried sick about you. And do you care? No, no, you're too busy off galavanting all over town with that brazen hussy! Don't "oh, dad" me! We know what's best for--
Sorry. On to the letters.]

Re: Why I hate #2 Pencils
To: Newt

I'm beginning to believe that the college / standardized test insanity is just that. I'm also beginning to believe that people do NOT have to go through this process in order to get where they want to in life.

Let's use an example. You are #1 rank in your graduating class. You get a full ride to Yale. you graduate yale with outstanding grades. You get your Major. You end up getting hired by a really big corperation, and have a really high paying job. But... where are the goals here? Is that your goal in life? Make money? Doesn't sound like a good goal to me. But, unfortunatly, that is the goal of the people that made all these fucking standardized tests.

Now, for instance, let's say you've always dreamed of being able to work with those less fortunate than you. Your GPA or class rank or ACT scores won't matter. All you need to do is find a college that will accept you, and take the classes you need/want. There ARE a lot of colleges out there that don't require 31's on the ACT, you know. Well, you take the classes you want, and you get a small job doing what you like. If you do it well, maybe you'll be able to get a bigger, higher paying job doing what you like.

Or, as in my case, let's say you dream of being an actor. The school you get into is not a real big deal in this case either (unless, you're one of those actors that want all the glory in life..). Your ACT scores don't matter. your GPA doesn't matter. All that matters is if you do what you like to do well.

Those are just a few examples. There are simply TONS of jobs that fit in those catagories. See, too many people go through the College scam to find out they still don't know what they want to do when they're out of college. All they end up with is a little more knowledge on random stuff and a big debt to carry around for the next 10 years. These are the people that usually end up going into business, being very unhappy, buying themselves digital watches (which don't make them much happier), and dying of heart disease.

I'm not saying you won't die of heart disease if you do what you like, I'm just saying... what was I saying?

I was saying if you know what you want to do, you shouldn't spend your time stressed out about filling in the correct bubbles. Just do your best, and everything should come out O.K.


[Ralph, we agree completely. Of course, we're complete idiotic jackasses, so take that as you will. --editor]

List of Video Games I'd Like To See

by Aquarius

1. Santa Coal Patrol
In this game, you would be Santa on Christmas Eve. You would have to make sure that all the bad boys and girls get coal in their stockings! But don't give coal to the good kids or you lose points! Higher levels include more bad kids and cheap plastic toys that break easily.

2. Mortal Barney
This would be similar to Mortal Kombat except the objective would be to fight Barney to the death. Finishing moves a necessity to know.

3. Suburban Nightmare
There wouldn't really be a goal for this game. It would simply be a driving simulator with a choice of different vehicles. You could drive a semi, a Ferrari, a 4x4 pickup, or a station wagon. All you would do is drive around a suburban neighborhood for a certain time limit per credit. The only thing is, you would receive complete freedom. Drive through houses, lawns, other cars, pedestrians, etc. with full realism.

4. Drunk Driver
This would also be a driving simulator with a twist! You're drunk! Try to drive all your pals home without killing everyone. Bonus points after every level if you aren't arrested. Levels defined by difficulty (blood-alcohol level).

5. Riot!
The setting is downtown Los Angeles. And there's a riot on. You must try to loot as many items as you can without being killed by other looters or caught. 5000 point bonus for each fire started. Store security systems increase in difficulty as game progresses.

6. Acid Trip
You've just taken/smoken something very powerful and you must try to discern reality from hallucination. Each level will have a different setting, from bedroom on up to Death Metal Concert.

7. Super Ultra Donkey Kong
Remember good ol' Donkey Kong? It's back, but this time Mario's got an equalizer: an Uzi submachine gun! No ape is going to stop this Italian stud from rescuing his girlfriend. Pump a few rounds into the gorilla and you complete the level. Gorilla excrement and banana peels increase as levels progress, causing you to slip and your machine gun to occasionally jam.

8. Braincase Bowling
A great bowling game, but no bowling balls... human heads instead! Try to select the head with the perfect weight and facial characteristics. But don't bowl that head too hard! Broken facial features can affect ball path!

9. Torture Chamber
You are a spy, captured behind enemy lines. You hold sensitive information that your enemy must know. Diodes will be placed in certain bodily areas (built into game) for this one. The question is: how much electricity can you take? High score table determined by highest number of watts taken before player hits "Give away everything" button.

10. Assassination
You are an assassin, hired to kill prominent political figures. Using your simulated high-range rifle you must pick off leaders for cash. Difficulty (security, motion & location of target) increase for each level. After you fire, the game turns into arcade/action as you run from the local police on up to the Secret Service!

(a dystropian jam of a different sort....)

Fear and Apathy in CyberDystropia Part Green:

The Prayer Of The Congealed Mass
a Midget Caesar production

I was vaguely aware that I was falling, but it didn't seem as important as an obligatory flashback scene, so I proceeded with the flashback.

Moments earlier, the giant whale looming over the horizon had been a harbinger of doom for the poor villagers. There was no protection, no defense, no hope, and no poultry. A collective scream rose up from the populace as it approached. Spasms of colour and light flew from the wake of the demonic whale, confident in its approach. It was fearless.....until it saw me. Only then did it know fear.

"Um, Larry? Lar, look at dis....dere's dis guy swinging toward us wit a rope or sometin', whadda he think he is? Tarzan or sumtin'? Whoa....whoa, Larry, what da hell is he doin????"

I swung into the depths of the whale through a bold gash I had made in the whale's side. The fools tried to keep me out by sending great gusts of wind against me, but I prevailed anyways, slipping inside of the behemoth and, ready for confrontation, ventured further into the unknown.

"LARRY! Dat nut's gonna get us kilt! Seal off deck #6 before we get sucked outta here? How'd he do dat???? Oh geez....he's after the caterers...."

A penguin wandered towards me, the penguin of temptation. It threatened me at first, but its threats of canings and nuclear food fights scared me not. I melded with the shadows as I approaced, his fear growing increasingly palpable with each step. I prepared to strike, and with a tone that would make the mightiest of men to wet their undies, I told him that not only did I know what evil lurked within his heart, I also knew what he had had for breakfast that morning.

"Larry, if he gets in here he'll be able to jettison all the tour equipment! Send security.....wait, whaddya mean he took out the security? How....oh, geez, really? With HOW MUCH jello? oh, man, Larry, LARRY!!!!!"

I forced the devil into the gelatinous pits of retribution and proceeded to send the machines of evil into the lake below. The one called Larry came rushing into the den of evil, where I informed him that his evil had been thwarted, and left him to bring the whale down. Satisfied, I made my heroic exit through the window.

This was one Michael Bolton concert that wasn't going ANYWHERE.

So now that the heroic flashback is over, I find myself spiralling into oblivion......hello, my name is Floyd. It usually falls to me to save the world, which I don't mind because of the 20% employees discount my employers promised me. (A discount for what, I'm not sure, but I can't wait to find out) I live on the Sunny Side Up, in the Vortex. I seem to be the last of a long line of adventurers, the brave Knights In Shining Cloth Diapers.

Ah.....the sweet smell of pavement rushing up to meet me.....there's nothing quite like it. And then, suddenly, I was someplace else....

"Floyd, you're going to get yourself killed someday, and I'd really rather not have to clean you up and find a replacement." I smiled at my boss. A devout Apathetic, he was a nice enough guy. "Boss, you've got to quit interrupting my heroic moments.....I was just about to whip out my trusty Floydarang and save myself with it." My boss's name was Jo. (his parents, being devout Apathetics themselves, hadn't cared enough to add on the 'e' to his name) He was the Second Church of Apathy's Publicity Director Of All Heroic Things, and since the Church doesn't care enough to publicize itself, he's rarely very busy. Once in awhile, some poor desperate soul will come in here looking for a heroic deed to be performed, and that's when I get called. "Floyd, the other Apathetics have all disappeared somewhere, and they forgot to tell me where they were going, so I'm left in the dark. Something does actually seem to be wrong with the world, but I don't really feel like finding out what it is. A dark and mysterious figure in a trench coat came in today and said he wanted a heroic deed done, but he was somewhat vague.....I didn't bother to write it down. Something about Reality and Constantine and a large group of ninjas with an insecurity complex."

I headed out cheerfully, ready to save the world (or a cat stuck up in a tree, as it usually happens). This was more than Jo usually gave me to go on.....

Fear and Loathing in Cyberspace, Part Seven:
"We're Going to Graceland!"
(Part Two of the Dystropia/Fear and Loathing crossover)
by Constantine

The ninjas closed in on the courthouse steps, a silent ring of death tightening like a noose around my throat. As sharpened steel gleamed in the sunlight, my entire life flashed before my eyes.

Suddenly, Jesse Helms landed with a "Dystropians 4 Jesus" strike force in full hover-assault body armor, their Impurity Detectors triggered by my inopportune flashback. Weilding planetary biodisruptor cannons, rocket launchers, chainsaws, BFGs and cold-water firehoses, they engaged the ninjas in combat, screaming "repent!" and "support the tobbaco lobby, you heathen foreigners!"

The skirmish lasted about thirty seconds, and I watched as the victorious ninja clan, the street around them littered with corpses and Bible tracts, slowly vivisected and dismembered Jesse Helms as his internal organs burst one at a time.

"You know," I said as the black-clad assassins turned their attention back to me, "Under normal circumstances, I would have enjoyed that a LOT more."

With only seconds to live, I knew I had to take a chance. Smiling amiably, I turned to the closest ninja and said, "Wow! That was pretty cool!"

A deathly hush fell over the street as they stopped in their tracks. "It was?"

"Heck, yeah! You're the Elbow Clan, right?"

"You've HEARD of us?"

"Everyone has! You guys are the greatest warriors in the universe, everybody knows that!"

Their leader stepped forward, awestruck. "Well... Well, yes, I guess we are, aren't we?"

"Sure you are! And there's no doubt at all that any of you could kill me in a heartbeat, is there?"

"No," the ninja said, sharpening his katana, "I don't suppose so."

"Well then," I said, "There's no problem! YOU know you could kill me, I know you could kill me-- so why waste your time and energy actually DOING it?"

"I guess you're right," the leader said, the others nodding proudly as they parted to let me down the stairs. As I dug in my pocket for the keys to the 14.4, the black interdimensional portal humming off to my side, I heard a voice pipe up from the back of the crowd.

"How do you know he's telling the truth?"

"KILL!" the ninjas screamed as they lunged towards me. With no time to spare, I threw myself through the portal, my senses drowned out in cold, inky blackness as I was teleported across the dimensional drift, to...?

Watch for Fear and Loathing Part Eight:
James Earl Jones is in Deep Doo-Doo!

The Prayer Of The Congealed Mass Part Two:

SURRENDER, Dorothy! We Have You Surrounded!
(Part Two of the Dystropia/Cyberspace Crossover)

They call me Floyd. They also call me "idiot", "psychopath", and "lunatic", but "Floyd" has the nicest ring to it, so I choose that one. And a funny thing happened to me on the way to the office......

I was chatting with a chicken as we both crossed the road, our goal the same, to get to the other side. I knew that I was supposed to be doing something vaguely heroic, but I couldn't be sure what, so I crossed the road again - but this time, standing in my path, were a large group of pasty-faced teenagers. They had joysticks slung around their shoulders, a dirty looking vehicle with "BLu WaV - CRaKeD!" written on the side, along with a curious word called "WaReZ". of them stepped forward, and began to speak.

"R U....(he glanced into a computer screen) Elvis?"

"Um, no." "R U....Forrest Gump?"

[Who IS that guy?] "Nope."

"R U....Kurdt Kobane?"
(upon saying this, the teenager seemed to have realized that he had made an error, and the others burst out in tears. When they had composed themselves, he continued the questioning)

"R U....a chikin?"
"No....there was one here, but he crossed the road."

"R U....Meat Loaf?"
"I'd do anything to be him, but I won't do that."

"R U a membur of any DiST groupz or ANSi?"
"I'm getting a bit antsy, yes."
[this seemed to please them]
"/<00l! R ya in ACiD? Can u make me a membur?"
"Um, sorry, I've said too much already...." (I was getting confused)
"Oh, we getcha. FeDZ 'n all...."
"Um, right."

"R U....Floyd?"
"Why yes, pleased to meet you."

The teenagers cheered, and broke out a few MODs in celebration. Then the leader stepped forward to explain himself.

"C, d00d, we r not from heer. Wur from anothur place, the NeT! An' wur /<-Ra|]!!!"

[they all exchanged high fives]

"Wur PeNiS, an' wur the....(he flashed a colorful sign at me, which read "MaSTuRs oF DiSaSTuR!!! - ANSi by WiZaRD"). An' we want u to com with us."

I suddenly remembered my mission.

"I have to go save somebody named Constantine from a large group of ninjas....sorry, I have to go, guys. Nice meeting you, though."

The teenagers conferred, argued, threatened each other with deletion, and finally came back to me.

"Gess whut? We knowe wher Constantine iz! YeaH! Wu'll taik u 2 him!"

"Okay, sure! Let's go!" This had to beat taking the bus again.

And we left....

The PeNiS members seemed to be very excited about "the file pointz we'll get for this guy!!!", and after a long journey, the vehicle slowed down. The teenagers seemed to agree that they had finished the "upload", and were home. We stood in front of a seedy looking place identified as "THe CHeaP MoTeL 16.8!" The members of PeNiS told me to go inside. I cheerfully strolled in, sidled up to the bar, and ordered a Mango Madness Cocktail. The entire bar quieted, and stared at me. Were they offended by my day-glo boxer shorts? Had I said something wrong? I turned to ask the nearest PeNiS member, but was instead confronted by a large man. A PeNiS member stepped forward.

"Okay, Mr. Foster, thatz Him!"

The big man stepped forward.

"I'm Joe Fred Foster. And you ain't going to be helping Constantine out today, tomorrow, or any day."

I hated violence, but it was time for action. I whipped out my trusty tiny purple fish - only to find something called a "virus" in its place. My weapons were of no use here in Cyberspace, and Joe Fred Foster was closing in......

[To Be Continued!]

How I Got in Touch with my Inner Feelings about
My Cross-Dressing Multiple Personalities

by Newt

I have hit a new low in my life. Becoming addicted to a chat is really nothing to be ashamed of considering PU's audience, and any rumors you have heard about the incriminating incident with the chainsaw are completely untrue. Heck, I'm one of only three women in the country who HASN'T slept with Bill Clinton (the others, of course, are Hillary and Angela Lansbury.) However, it has taken me a few weeks of intensive counseling to be able to admit this: I have become addicted to talk shows.

Oh, it started out so innocently; I couldn't get a summer job and didn't have a car. The only thing to do after I refinished the kitchen floor and painted the garage roof was to watch television, and now I cannot stop. Oprah, Donahue, Sally, Ricki, and [gasp!] even Geraldo now fill my days! The tales of mothers who strip to keep their children from joining the Nazi party fascinate me. I am enthralled by lesbians who impersonate Elvis, and frankly, the show on hermaphrodites who marry their foster parents has changed my life. But I cannot stop! Oh, the joys of hearing people with IQ's even lower than that of your average politician talk about their inner being on national TV! To know that I can turn kitchen appliances into beautiful jewelry gives me something to wake up for. To hear Kato Kaelin's testimony about the thumps and the bloody glove daily makes me feel that I am in touch with current events.

Oh, don't underestimate me; I AM embarrassed. When I started shaking uncontrollably and talking about my inner child with a glazed look in my eyes, I knew I had gone too far. I cut back dramatically on my viewing time. I even saw sunlight for the first time in three weeks yesterday when I went outside and had a conversation about the Presley-Jackson marriage with my mailman.

I know I can get better; I know my condition is not fatal. My life doesn't have to revolve around the next episode of Bertice Berry, and Jerry Springer's words of wisdom no longer have to have religious significance to me. I am trying to take it day by day and to keep busy, I'm reading books, seeing movies, and next week I'm going on Geraldo with Hillary and Angela to talk about why Bill turned us down.

Aquarius' Joke Corner!

[It's due to popular demand. You can hate us all you want. --editor]

What do you get when you cross a rabbit with a chipmunk?

A mess.

Why did the leprechaun kiss his pot of gold?

I don't know.

Knock knock...
Who's there?
Paul who?
Paul Smith.

Why did the baby cross the road?

It was stapled to the chicken.

Why did the lifeguard make a sand castle?

For the hell of it.

Wasn't that funny, boys and girls?


-- The stunning conclusion to the Dystropia/Fear and Loathing crossover! The megaverse will never be the same! Well, at least, it'll be kinda different. Maybe.

-- Malakai's Black Death, the beginning of a new serial for people who like blood. Lots of it.

-- He's back, and he's got poetry! It's Psychotic Ambition's poetry feature-- and we take NO RESPONSIBILITY for what it may do to your psyche. None. Period. Just wanted to get that straight right now.

-- Defenestrations galore!


Call these boards, or we'll personally come around to your houses, drag you out by the scruff of the neck, and give you a good beating. Unless you'd enjoy that, in which case we'll just make you watch OJ Trial footage until your head explodes.

And for letters, comments and rants, don't forget the Propaganda Mailbox at Internet address PULETTERS@AOL.COM!

Strangeways Asylum (312) 588-4231 (Headquarters)
Legion of the Undead (708) 546-4605
The Ice Palace (708) 635-0953
Big Bob's Leech Burger Farm (708) 838-1015
MicroInformation Systems (805) 251-0564
Dark Globe (815) 363-1351

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