HUSH UP, ISSUE: 1:3
© 1999 twins

Save the People

I turned off the music, and it all grew quite around me. In a different country a big man died of a small disease. A king trying to save his people, but too late, because life’s too short. I kept turning the pages of my music magazine, and I didn’t need the turn table to play for me to hear it.

There was French House music, with loops, grooves and beats, and Swedish pop in the end. I heard rappers full of anger, hate and fear, passionate r&b and philosophical hip hop. I listened to punk-rockers full of stories and hot drum’n’bass. And eurodisco, which meant nothing to me.

Behind my dreams the sun rose and set, and I was still turning my pages. The time was speeding again, and I was only waiting for someone to give it a speeding ticket. No-one would, because it was my time and my responsibility. I had to make something creative, but I couldn’t get my hands of the mag and I couldn’t stop chewing on my delicious dream.

I’d bean talking too much. Too much crap had dangled from my tongue. I had said it good, I had said it bad, and I had said it in all possible kind of ways. I was wishing for someone to come and tell me. How its gonna be. So how it’s gonna be with the world? Are we gonna save someone today or are we just gonna sit around dreaming. What’s up with God, where’s he at, anyway? I wished I new the answers, because I was tired. Tired of asking the questions. And just plain, laid off tired.

My tongue grew tangled with the speeding thing. And it became that hard and difficult. I rose, looked at the turn table, and didn’t say a thing.

The needle scratched the vinyl and cried. It wasn’t music, and it wasn’t politics, nor philosophy. It was a dream, streaming form the speakers. And I sat there, thinking about that big man dying of something so small, promising myself never to speak again until I too could cry a dream.
    That’s my only way to save the people.
    Bitch’s the only thing I know.

cover: mirash

Co Editors

robin
mirash


Columnist

jewelz


Contributing Writers

Seth Abramson
Janet Buck
Taylor Graham
Scott C. Holstad
Ahila Sambamoorthy
Robert James Berry

3 Things
What's the three most important things for you?

Invisible Bridges
The world is getting smaller. Soon we can travel light years in matter of minutes and build roads and bridges of other worlds. Soon we'll be nothing but communicating and building. Extraordinary things. We're learning how to build things we've only imagined.

The Search
Some times when you want something you have to search. Some times you find what you're searching for and some times you don't.

The Secret of the Holy Grail
Some times when you want something you have to search. Some times you find what you're searching for and some times you don't.

Artfan — Human Weakness
Hey, what you fancy? What you wanna have, what you wanna be? Where you heading at, what you fuckin' dream?

Primal Scream
Some say this is the first thing you do. Sometimes. When you wake up from a bad dream. And you're not quite sure if you're still dreaming, or if you're awake. And if you was screaming in your dream or in real. And you just try to figure it out. It could take a lifetime.

Poetry by Seth Abrahamsson
Everyday life is fascinating. Most of our time we spend right there, and still a year later most of us have forgotten all about it. It's all those small moments, which really are big, huge, enormous. Because they make up the bigger feeling, and form us. All our small moments, that's who we really are.

Poetry by Janet Buck
Every day's a challenge. And we're the small soldiers of the world. Daily, we fight our own wars and battles.

Poetry by Taylor Graham
Some times reality can be more absurd than fiction. Some times life just throws these huge surprises, and things which where supposed to be imposible become possible. Though, most of the times it's just stories. But even fictional stories are so full with magic.

Poetry by Scott C. Holstad
Things are not as romantic as they used to be. It's just the world, you know, what do we have to be romantic about?

Poetry by Ahila Sambamoorthy
Nature's so wild and temperamental. Nature's so wild and beautiful. Nature's so happy and free.

Poetry by Robert James Berry
It's impressive. How things can form from nothing. How we are born, and then our children. It's impressive. Think of it.

Learn to be Silent, by Karin Boye
Some times it's easier not to feel. Some times it's easier just to hide inside and not to show anyone anything. Not even oneself. Some times it's too painful. Some times, just let it be.

DMX: Flesh of My Flesh, Blood of My Blood
"I've got blood on my hands and there's no remorse. I've got blood on my dick 'cause I've fucked a corps. I'm a nasty nigga. When you pass me nigga, look me in my eye. Tell me to my fucking face that you're ready to die."

Roots: Things Fall Apart
You gotta know your roots. And you gotta know your limitations. No matter where you from, or where you at, you gotta be a bright one. Perhaps some of us has to shine a bit brighter than others, to show the way. And perhaps some of us must realize a bit earlier than others. But in the end, we're all pretty equal.

Ben Harper: Welcome to the Cruel World
I think people never receive more than they give. It doesn't matter whether they hide behind religion, or if religion is just something that helps them though everyday life. It doesn't matter whether you practice as you preach, or don't. It doesn't matter whether you pretend to be someone you are or not. It all comes back at you, good and bad.

Blade (Soundtrack)
There's something romantic about vampires. The thing that they're both human and still not, and in the movies, in the end, they always let their fair lady choose whether she wants to become a vampire or not. And naturally she always chooses to become one.

Cassius: 1999
You ain't nobody, until you are somebody. And you ain't somebody until you've got your own set of Frenchmen. All the big one's do. Yeah, even Daft Punk's record company. French house music is French house music. They're leading the club scene out of the 90s. What can we do but stand in line and dance.

Whitney Houston: My Love is Your Love
Is there anything bigger? Than love. Is there anything greater? Than caring. You haven't really lived. Before you've had the feeling. That feeling when you can die. For another feeling and for another person. C'mon. Give up your love. Shock us!

Cold Krush Cuts/DJ Krush: DJ Krush Back in the Base
Get yourself a turntable and some vinyl. Make the needle scratch the vinyl and make sure to make some groovy sound. Get yourself an audience and make them shake it while you're on the needle. Take them to places they've never experienced before and make them worship you. You're in the DJ business.

White Boy Shuffle
A hilariously funny story of a young Afro-American boy's search of his identity.
    When Gunnar Kaufman's eccentric mother decides to move into the ghetto Gunnar decides she must have totally lost it. Paul Beatty's novel debut is a crazy, fresh, funny and spells out a bit more than we maybe want to hear.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
What would you do if you found out that your best friend was actually a hitchhiker from another planet and that earth was about to be destroyed in just a couple of minutes in order to make way for a hyperspatial express route?

Art Spiegelman: Maus: A Survivor's Tale
The Annihilation was a horrible business. Some still claim it never took place, but still survivors can tell their stories of it. Sometimes it's easier to be quiet, say nothing, and close your eyes, or look away. But next time it might be you, and be sure other people will also hush up and look away.

Jon Courtenay Grimwood: reMix
Science fiction writers can be better at predicting the future than gurus and experts. They have visions and ideas, some times too big and too impossible, but things are becoming less impossible. We're heading to a scientific future, and the thing we called science fiction yesterday is just technology today.