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111111111  <|    <\|  kkkkkk /    \  )  \   +   +   @@@@@  @  |     eeeee


(I know the ascii art sux 
and if you can come up 
with something better 
than prove it!)



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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  
					  <jnrst9+@pitt.edu>

	  
(((((((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).


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(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 <great> 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 <great> 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 <jnrst9+@pitt.edu>.  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.

