OUSFG Newsletter, Late Michaelmas 1993
Mark Charsley <email@example.com>, 17th November 1993
Newsletter Distribution Rationalization
Now, OUSFG has been going for some time now, and has had a
succession of, how shall I put this, organisationally challenged
committees; and what with all this life mambership busiiness,
there's some names on the newsletter distribution list that have
been there for a long time: I'm particularly suspicious of a
certain M. Mouse and his friend F. Christmas in St. Catz. To cut
a long story short, it has come to the committee's notice that we
(a) appear to have lots of names on our mailing list which
don't have pigeon holes, and
(b) are sending out newsletters to people who, judging by
their lack of attendance, just chuck the newsletter straight into
This is a waste of their time, our time and paper. So to do
our bit for the environment and our idleness, we've decided to
only send newsletters to those who are still in Oxford and want
them. So, in order to claim your future newsletters, all you have
to do is cut out the bit of the newsletter above, which cunningly
has your name and college on the other side, fold it in half so
my name is on the outside and pop it in pigeon post back to me.
If you don't want to cut up you newsletter, just send me a note
in pigeon post, or tell me at any meeting. Freshers who joined
this year needn't bother (though see below): neither need the
usual lot who turn up, most of whom are pedantic enough to come
up and tell me anyway.
Box o' Death
If there's a tick in the box opposite, then you only bought
a term's membership, so unless you upgrade to a year or life by
sending £6 or £10 respectively to Alex Ralph, our treasurer, at
Somerville this is your final newsletter. Right that's that over
with, let's get on to the meetings `n' stuff:
These are held in the Lady Brodie Room in St. Hilda's, every
Wednesday night at 8.15. Tea, coffee, biscuits, stupid
discussions, people doing silly things: and then there's the bar!
If you want more from life than this, then you probably didn't
join OUSFG anyway.
Week 5: Adrian's Mars meeting: everything you never knew
about Mars, mainly `cos Adrian made it up. Apparently there may
be some acting going on, but Adrian just grins in a worrying
fashion whenever I ask him about it: I'm worried.
Week 6: John Bray on Matter Transmission. He is confusing
matter transmission (sic) with trans-dimensional displacement of
a remotely induced singularity. I despair.
Week 7: Mark's Technophobia through the ages, a serious
discussion hindered by the Interzone players illustrating various
points in their own (hopefully) unique style.
Week 8: Silly Games and Cookies. Recoil in horror at
Vampires in the Dark, groan at Context: the Party Game, moan at
me for being no better than anyone else when you come down to it,
at Just a Minute.
Matthew Marcus' room in Magdalen (New Building TC 15: at the
top of staircase 6, not 1 as the cunning little weasel told me at
the beginning of term), every Sunday night from 8.15. We appear
to have settled on going to the Angel and Greyhound afterwards.
For those who've missed it: it's the inset pub a bit up St.
Clements. Should anyone want to hold the library next term, then
feel free to vounteer, cos then Matthew won't moan all the time,
and slightly more seriously, we won't have to hike two and half
thousand books up 4 flights of stairs again.
These are getting a little silly: when we show either a good
film or I bought a Vampire Motorcycle, we get loads of people. If
we show the usual run of the mill stuff, we get about two. Thus
to save expense and embarrassment, not to metion Lucy's time,
these are being put on hold until we get a list of films that
people actually want to see. Thus the only remaining films to be
shown this term will be:
Week 5: Jacob's Ladder: are there really demons out there or
is it just the drugs he took in `Nam? Quite a good film, which
critics didn't understand (mind you they couldn't understand Back
to the Future II, so it's hardly surprising), but Mo claims it's
Week 8: The Muppet's Chhistmas Carol: it'll be seasonal and
funny, and it'll be in 8th week.
These are held on Monday nights, from about 8.15 in St.
Hilda's South JCR. For next term, if you want a film shown, put
it down on the suggestion list I'll be taking along to meetings
from now on.
The annual combined party with the Comic Book and Role
Playing Games Societies, will one again be held in Corpus
Christi's New Music Room on Saturday 7th week (27th November).
Tickets are available from Alex, priced £3 tee-total, £5 alkie,
and £6 on the door.. About half the attendees will be in fancy
dress (the best of whom will get a prize), and the rest will be
dressed normally (well as normally as they usually are), so
there's no need to feel embarassed either way.
Apologies for the lack of material in this newsletter, but
you would not believe how busy I am_, so thanks to Ralph for the
cover, which was produced at the William Burroughs' workshop
(incidentally, he appears to have an album out at the moment:
could this be cause for another entry in the library's music
collection?), as are the various Burroughs Boxes scattered
throughout the rest of the newsletter. No-one signed theirs so I
can't thank any of them except Lucy, who's was unmistakable.
Finally, I'd like to give a big thankyou to all those I bullied
into helping with Freshers' Fair, and giving discussion meetings:
THANK YOU Burroughs Box
She tried to blot out the sound with Scientific truth. He
must by now be as scared as she was that she would do it into my
She tried to comfort him, "We have forced ourselves on Mrs.
Hinde let out the sob of a small, hurt child, "I've told
you, I didn't take her."
"That was the plan."
"Yes, that was the plan. But I didn't carry it through. I
brought her home."
Caspian said: "You took her to a group meeting."
"No. She spoke to me about another part of her which has not
yet been allowed to emerge. I reserve the right to wake up
feeling in the mood for a nice big pair of tits_"
When is the easiest moment to say you want to use one like
an alarm clock or if you're really silly, as a piece of
"There was nothing to feel guilty about. Neither of us has
any reason for guilt." She was, he reaslied, soothing him with
his own shit. Behind him a woman let out a pitiful little moan.
"How far will you go?"
Annie gulped, and threw herself on top of Adelaide and just
let herself die.
Akash: "I saw that rubber chicken, and I thought_ Christine."
Mark C: "When my hand's up his bottom, he thinks he's Abbadon"
Ralph: "It's more fun than sex with a tortoise"
Mark C: "There is a difference between RPG's and genital piercing"
Neal: "Yes, RPG's are more painful and socially embarrassing."
Mark C: "What's all this green slime on my trousers?"
Lucy: "I would deny it but I can't."
Mark C: "I don't care: I'll fit it in there somewhere."
Tim A: "We all take our clothes off at the end"
New Matt: "That's what vicars tell young children!"
Mark C: "I can't put that in there: I'm a Christian!"
Frances: "Oh look, I've run out again!"
Mark C: "I only have long hair in certain places."
Matthew: "Computers are like weasels: long, thin and mammalian."
Mark C: "Just because someone's stupid enough to offer you all
their jaffa cakes does not mean they're Satan."
Matthew: "It's a damn good indication though."
Neal: "When I moved, the orange sprang out at high speed."
Jeremy: "I don't know whether it's drinkable or not."
Liz: "What's the alcohol content?"
Frances: "Are those my feet?"
John: "I wasn't born with this beard."
PANIC. He had to find a sex life. "I've done it twice this year"
"I couldn't see myself wanting to stop," he added. It was
too bad she was called Bradley, was in his teens and, of course,
taught his asshole to talk. Otherwise it's the same blancmange
trembling against his legs.
Painfuly, tunelessly he slid off the and goes down under a
dandified queer of perfumed irrelevance. But knowledge that opens
up the secrets ot the self within us is.
They said "your poems are crap!"
High Thrust Modification: None
"You remember my problem with chickens? I remember telling
you a little about it the weekend we were in Laguna. About what
happened at my uncle's farm when I was eight years old? However I
thought it was a bit odd that Tim Adye had a bore of exactly
Major launched his most determined bid yet to shake himself
free of the shadow of mushrooms.
Major: I'm looking ahead, not wearing your knickers.
Quivering, snorting, eyes rolling widly, for the next few days
kids of age groups 18 months to 12 years described by Police
Commissioner Paul Condon as metaphysical understanding. Eaten any
six-year-old beef lately in the absence of good English radical
Mark's Step by Step Guide to Making a Costume
Some people find costume making too difficult, resulting in
them having to join the 50% of people at the Christmas Party
wearing a sensible outfit: clothes that enable you to go to the
toilet without a five minute dismantling procedure and stay warm
on the way to/from the party, while not gathering strange looks.
However, by following the simple guide below, you can avoid this
1.Think of a costume idea.
2.Obtain the materials you'll need.
3.Assemble them to form the costume.
and there you go: one costume to go to the party in. No problem!
Next Issue: Mark's Step by Step Guide to Writing an Essay.
Interestingly situated above Sainsbury's, Wadham 6-2 is a
particularly bulky sardine in an unsually small tin. It might be
worth checking out its Ferian Ram - a countryman holding a tall
pole. But for perfect knowledge, stop after Tesco's to chant the
holy names of Zool pppkkkkfffwwwhh. The commonest causes of
constipation are Discussion meetings. A corpse just becomes a bit
of an inconvenience. But in most cases the problem will clear up
quickly because of acid in the stomach is escaping back into the
brutish groping foeti.
Why experiment? I would like to know more about BUPA to fall
a vicim to one of the dread Satanic forces of all
colleges & universities in the UK.
It was a whopper, wasn't it? The weakest moment is a crutch
stompalong `Size of a Cow' remake jammed into the small,
immaculately clean and slept on a two-inch-thick Mark.
Introduction to Zool
A long time ago in a galaxy pretty bloody close, come to
think of it, someone wrote the fateful message `11.40 Have set
off for Zool: See you there.' on her door. For reasons never
adequately explained, this was later explained to be:
Zool! Death Planet where the intractable criminals of 10,000
worlds were exiled.
Zool! World of everlasting darkness and sense-destroying winter.
Zool! Where the nameless weapons of a dead civlisation still
preyed on mankind's fears.
Generations of OUSFG members have taken this as an excuse to
take turns writing episodes of a story (using the word in its
looseset possible sense) featuring in-jokes no-one will get, and
rather unsubtle cameos of OUSFGites and their friends (again
using the word in the loosest possible sense). Giving a resume of
the plot seems a little futile, as it disappeared somewhere
around episode 9, and wasn't even looking particularly well then.
So, instead I will introduce some of the more important
characters (in order of appearance):
Gogromelgromoth the Dark Lord (or Tim): a rather unassuming
wizard, whose mother (Mrs. Lord) had ideas above his station. He
may have been a centipede at some point but is currently humanoid
(ditto for his mother), and has tried to change his name to Tim,
but without much success.
Molin-Cax: one of the old guard, which means his heroicity
is dubious to say the least. Based on Colin W. and Max, who left
OUSFG years ago. Currently reincarnated with tie-dyed flesh after
a regrettable bit of spontaneous combustion.
John Clute: a smart-ass whom no-one really likes. Any
resemblance to Interzone editors past or present is entirely
The Beard: based on Lucy. After swapping bodies (and
de-railing the plot for several episodes in the process) a couple
of times, she is now helping save Earth.
The Penguin: based on Mark C. A very fine fellow indeed,
whose heroic efforts have saved worlds as we know them many times
Brother Mann: a monkish fellow who hasn't done very much.
Last known posessor of the mystic charm of Khellessar.
The Men in Black: rather unpleasant induividuals who go
round making obscure and tasteless bets on various social
possiblities within OUSFG.
Glamorous Galactic Agent Marina MacDonald: no guesses who
this psychopathic maniac with a crap french accent is based on.
The Hobbit: based on Neal, but no-one told me until after I
atomised him in episode 4. Sorry Neal.
Sidekick: based on Alex (we think): she hasn't done much
yet, and if you don't tell her about that bit in Episode 10,
neither will I.
The Wise Woman: based on Wendy: she gave a bit of dodgy
advice in episode 4 and hasn't been seen since.
Lord Evil: a scientist who's mad, and possibly bad.
Igor: used to be Lord Evil's deformed assistant, but is now
in the radiation-ravaged version of The Beard's body.
Abigail Lord: used to be Tim/Gogormelgromoth Lord's wife
until his mother blew her into hadronic jets.
David Icke: no-one's sure (except the Mule) whether he's a
villain or a hero, but he's definitely turquoise.
The herring: used to be a gigawatt laser cannon, but has
recently been turned into a (presumably dead) herring of unkown
The Mule: as far as I know, not based on anyone, but he was
forced to loan his genitals to David Icke purely for a crap pun.
For those about to ring the RSPCA, it's OK: he's got them back
The Conclavosaurus: a brontosaurus-like creature whose had
all three brains artificially boosted to sentience, and as a
result is suffering from multiple personalities: Andrew, George
Mrs Miggins: a woman with a rather unpleasant voice who has
a tea fixation. Based (to my shame) on one of my (now dead) RPG
Other characters who haven't done much yet, but look
The actor in the brown leather jacket (Mark Boyes)
The mad chef (Elvis)
The Psychlo actor in the clawed glove (Frances)
Kirk and Spock (Kirk and Spock: bit tricky that one)
The Middle Eastern Nutters (the characters from the
Hezbollah RPG Mo runs, recently wiped out thanks to Lou's
eperiments with memory moss, and suffering from addiction to rose
The full epic is being can be read at most OUSFG meetings,
and can be found in a rather natty red file. Should anyone want
to write an episode, the rules are simple: include the phrase
`Zool death planet where the intractable criminals of 10,000
worlds etc.'. That's it. No more, it's not much to ask for, but
people just will not comply. It's a hard job, and no-one
appreciates me_ look just turn over the page, and I'll just go to
a pub and get maudlin, okay?
Should anyone want an old design T-shirt (the one with the
dragon reading a book), can they get in touch with Alex as soon
as possible. Similarly, we're thinking of re-doing the OUSFG
mugs: get in contact with Mark if you're interested. Finally if
anyone fancies playing at the Megazone Laser centre on Monday
evening 7th week get in contact with Mark.
I'm sitting in a stump in the centre of Britain's
Independent Financial Advisers (not in Waco sense) being kicked.
Leonardo tried a handful of shuriken, but it was pointless trying
to be something they can never be - young.
"Don," said Leonardo. "Can you explain?"
"Violence, robbery & murder," said Donatello again. "It's
what they call litter when it's found on the Gret British lay-by.
George Kojorjee a giant octopus hauled itself into Angola.
"What were your main reasons for becoming an octopus,
notwithstanding all their own usually insuffereable gush about
how different they are."
"At times like this," said George, "I'd personally rather be
a sixty-tonne battleship. Usually the condition first appears as
sore and tender areas on the face, scalp and nappy areas in
children under two. It then spreads to the member after a
particularly good game."
"You're as bad as I am. Sexual promiscuity is the first step
towards Benzoyl peroxide products."
"Whatever can be the matter with him?" Molly exclaimed in
astonishment. "I've never known him behave like that before."
"We are witnessing a growth in so-called `vigilantes'. If
the use of guns spreads beyond cigarette smoking, more ordinary
people will reach sixth place."
"I've been feeling strange_" Matthew grinned. John's rush
had carried him half across the room into the transcendental
plane of Krisna consciousness, where passions burn and juices
bubble and up to six prostitutes a night destroyed half a hotel.
"I'm going to keep my door locked tonight if there's a party
going on," she smiled. The Marquis collapsed on a Louis Seize
settee suffering from chronic groin strain. She plugged back into
the national grid, her long, silk stockinged legs more
hyperactive than ever. These timeless practices burned the blood
stained bed, decorating their pillows at night. Bob rues the day
he ever offered to clean Father Barry's escort girls and
"British men do not like women very much," he says. Silently
his manager has booked a masseur, a pneumatic woman astronaut in
a skintight suit.
"I gave remarkably good head," she murmered, masticating new
motions of the flesh. He was overcome by uneasy relief.
Learning the Science of the Soul, a preacher of God
understood. Those who have suffeiceint intelligence take heoin.
Those who are intelligent politicians take sonic booms.
Srila Prabhupada: What is heroin?
Father Emmanuel: A sadistic alcohoolic whose warped mind
bred fear inthose arpound him.
Srila Prabhupada: Dear Hippe parasites, why should I work 45
hours a week and pay £500 a month mortgage so you lot cn wander
round with dogs on strings, smoking roll-ups and drinking cider.
I would napalm you and your followers.
Father Emmanuel: Yes. We're a sexually and emotionally
repressed society. Also there is no tax. That's probably why it's
so attractive to musicians.
James B. King When is the easiest moment to say you want to
Health Department's Chief Medical Officers: After many
months of brutal warfare and trade restrictions
Srila Prabhupada: Yes It's a perfect opportunity. So take it.
Is this Britain's greatest abstract art?
It is a great honour for m to have te pleasure of examining
the publications of the heroes in a half-shell. He transmits in
modern Ebglish the same timeless knolwedge that other great
self-realized teachers have spoke for millenia - somehthing other
than gibberish? Who cares? Enjoy. CC.
 Crap-competition-no-one-will-enter time! The first person to
tell me the source of this quote gets a crap prize they won't
Online copy courtesy of
tidied up by