Cuomo was able to get three ISPs to drop access to the entire alt.* hierarchy of Usenet

I'll admit that swatting gnats with nukes is effective, but....

pALEPHx wrote:

Call me under-informed, but isn't the ALTerverse populated by a lot more than just kiddie pr0n and other bizarre and inappropriate fetishes? I realize, sure, that must be about 70-80% of what's out there, but don't they also have support groups for illnesses, general help lists, and other perfectly G-rated stuff for the people who haven't quite mentally migrated to the idea of forumware yet?

If UseNet were worth saving they could just not allow binary file attachments.

But I don't really think it's worth saving.

Zookeeper wrote:

The only thing superior about web forums over newsgroups is they let you post pretty pictures, embed videos, and let Sofie add loud obnoxious auto-playing flash vids to discussions and piss everyone else off.

-> Is on the Zookie side of the Sofie/Zooks catfight, for once. Don't consider this a commitment.

fnord wrote:

Choad is just pissed off because he’s about to lose his source of free porn.

No, I visit exceptionally tame websites for free porn, seasonally adjusted for frequency.

Verizon removed its binary groups weeks ago, just about the time its service interruptions cut my net access for hours at a time, every day of the week, and  'DSL' connection speed is currently diminished to little better than 56k dialup.

I get legal betas for most of my own software needs but  I always found warez groups a more reliable snapshot of software development than trade papers.

I began tracking music newsgroups in the middle 90s and more recently, video; my entire entertainment budget and I already miss it.

pALEPHx wrote:

Zookeeper wrote:

The only thing superior about web forums over newsgroups is they let you post pretty pictures, embed videos, and let Sofie add loud obnoxious auto-playing flash vids to discussions and piss everyone else off.

-> Is on the Zookie side of the Sofie/Zooks catfight, for once. Don't consider this a commitment.

We're having a cat fight?  Damn, why didn't anyone tell me?  I could have been tearing off her shirt all this time...

Imminent death of the net predicted!

For no apparent reason, the transcendent soap reviews that David Lynch (not the famous director) used to post on behalf of his brother Paul came to mind the other day.

Paul Lynch wrote:

The individual soaps are 3 and 3/4 by 2 inches wide, and a little more then 3/4ths of an inch thick. The left side of the sticker is light blue, with a red banner and white letters, and it suggests that you "COMPARE and SAVE". By this they mean that you chould compare the price of Lux (which is 3 for 99 cents), see that it is considerably less than that of other brands, and save money by buying Lux, as opposed to the rival brand.

MSG Tripps wrote:

Damn [for another time in my life], I should be really scared?

Yes, but not that the net will die.  You should be more scared that ISPs will use this to lobby idiots like "series of tubes" Stevens to push for eliminating Net Neutrality.  Well, if they can do it quick enough that he's not behind bars, that is.  Wait, those aren't bars!  They're a series of tubes!

square wrote:

For no apparent reason, the transcendent soap reviews that David Lynch (not the famous director) used to post on behalf of his brother Paul came to mind the other day.

Just to waste everyone's time, here are the ones I had squirreled away that aren't on the web page.  First up, Caress:

From: eraserhead@iglou.com (David Lynch)
Subject: Review: Caress
Date: 1996/02/24
Message-ID: <DnAzM9.3D0@iglou.com>
sender: news@iglou.com (News Administrator)
x-nntp-posting-host: iglou
organization: IgLou Internet Services (1-800-436-4456)
newsgroups: alt.bogus.group

One of the primary differences between English and Spanish is the assignment of gender to inanimate objects. If we did designate sex to objects, however, "soap" would almost certainly be deemed feminine. Caress Moisturizing Body Bars are perfect examples of soap's more feminine aspects. From its brazenly sensual name to its alluring perfumed scent, Caress represents the gentle purifying yin to Lava's rough-hewn cleansing yang.

Caress is packaged in a cardboard box 1 1/4 inches thick and 3 1/2 by 2 1/2 inches wide. This leaves plenty of room for the soap to rattle around, but the bar turned out to be in much better shape than most soaps packaged in wax paper. This serves to validate my long-held opinion that cardboard is the best packaging material for soaps. The front of the packaging is mainly composed of a large blooming peach-colored flower with a smaller blossom adorning its lower right corner. I'm no botanist, but I'd hazard that the flower as depicted on the box is an extremely stylized peach blossom, although I wouldn't be at all surprised to learn that it was entirely the invention of the artist. The blossom is set on a peach and white striped background that I find reminiscent of a beach towel or Venetian blinds. "Caress" is written in an intimate, gently curving script and has a straight blue line directly beneath it, which makes the large blue letters seem that much more exotic and passionate. "Moisturizing Body Bar" is written in discreet green print beneath the line, and "With Bath Oil" is written below that in smaller but equally green letters. A little ways down from that, on the bottom peach stripe, "Original Peach Net Wt 4.75 oz (135g)" is written in a darker shade of peach. The back of the box features the same background asseen on the front, but the Caress logo is scaled back and only covers the top half of the blossom. The bottom half of the blossom is obscured with a bar code on the left and a list of ingredients and such on the right. The UPC code for Caress is 11111 73148, and the ingredients are as follows:

"Ingredients: sodium cocoyl isethionate, stearic acid, sodium tallowate,
water, sodium isethionate, coconut acid, sodium stearate, sodium
dodecylbenzenesulfoate, sodium cocoate or sodium palm kernelate,
fragrance, mineral oil, sodium chloride, titanium dioxide, trisidium
EDTA, trisodium etidronate, BHT, D&C yellow #11, D&C red #17.
Questions or comments? Call 1-800-598-5005.
Lever Bros. Co. NY, NY 10022 Made In USA
(c)1993 Lever Brothers Co. 173-197-040F"
The numbers seen above are followed by a tiny reproduction of the Lever logo, which consists of the word "Lever" printed with a right slant and with a sparkle on the loop of the "R".

The top and bottom sides of the packaging are essentially the same, with the familiar striped background and the Caress logo with a tiny, delicate looking blossom behind the "r". The left side features the peach and white stripes and the Caress logo, with "Moisturizing Body Bar with bath oil" written beneath it in small green letters and a tab at the top with "Lift To Open" printed in green upon it. The UPC code is printed in black on both of the inner flaps, and "22" is printed in black on the left inner flap. The right side is similar to the left, but with "06095X8" impressed upside-down at the top of the flap. The left inner flap has a cross printed on it that divides the flap into four equal sections. I couldn't tell you what the meaning of that is.

The soap itself is much too rounded to measure accurately, but is approximately 3/4 of an inch at its thickest and 3 1/4 by 2 inches at its widest. Caress is a rich, creamy peach color that deepens and lightens in waves, similar to the coloration of Irish Spring. In poor lighting, it almost resembles the plastic pseudo-wood of cheap unpainted hunting decoys. It also gives off a dull sheen under a flourescent light. Unlike most other soaps, Caress has nothing carved into it, but its unique shape and odor prevent it from being mistaken for other brand X soaps. The soap has a sort of flattened egg shape that would be ideal for skipping across a pond or carving a miniature replica of the Millenium Falcon. In terms of scent, Caress is heavily perfumed, to the point where it almost becomes ridiculous. After about a minute of handling the soap, my hands reeked of women's perfume to the point that my dog refused to lick them. Considering that my dog thinks nothing of licking my feet after they have spent a long day encased in dirty sweatsocks and sneakers, her refusal to even sniff at my palms reflects extremely poorly on Caress. The flavor of the soap is initially sour and bitter, but becomes like that of Quaker Peaches & Cream oatmeal, and then becomes bitter, but not entirely unpleasant, once more. I wouldn't want to eat an entire bar, but consuming a sliver wouldn't be all that bad. The feel on the skin when dry is smooth and satiny, and the rounded curves of the bar ensure that it will fit naturally in the hand no matter how or where it is held. After about a minute of fondling, the hands become coated with a thin layer of Caress, which makes it difficult to write on the hands and causes a delightful friction when the two hands are rubbed together.

To test the cleansing ability, I wrote "ham" on my hand with a Bic ball-point pen filled with black ink, courtesy of Cheryl Bretz, the elecronic claims processor, who can be reached at 615-262-5186. It took 35 seconds of scrubbing under warm water to strip away all the ink from my hand, which is a very respectable time for a body bar. The lather was plentiful and creamy, but it coated my hands so completely that it was difficult to wash off. It did, however, feel very nice and probably creates extremely pleasant sensations when rubbed all over the body. Unfortunately, about five minutes after washing my hands became uncomfortably dry (which is in direct contrast to its claims of being a moisturizing bar) and the skin on the knuckle of the middle finger of my left hand cracked wide open, which is just as painful as you would expect to be. This reaction was undoubtedly compounded by the abnormally cold weather, but I would still recommend that people with allergies and skin conditions steer clear of Caress and stick to more natural soaps. The lather smelled of freshly sliced peaches and thick cream, as did my hands. The bar of soap absorbed every drop of water left on it without any discoloration or cracking. This shows good production values and a dedication to making a high quality, if not skin friendly, soap.

In closing, I found Caress to be a fine soap, if a bit too feminine and painful for my tastes. It is NOT hypoallergenic, so if you have sensitive skin you may choose to avoid it, and I recommend that you do so. But if you have durable skin and enjoy taking long baths or the scent of peaches, by all means give it a try.


--
eraserhead@iglou.com / Not the ornery director / Tape trades welcome
See the Soap WWW page at: http://www.rahul.net/ndanger/soap/soap.html
ObCriminalSpeech: piss.

Last edited by square (2008-08-01 02:40:50)

For Taint and Pale, Mostly Men:

From: eraserhead@iglou.com (David Lynch)
Subject: Review: Mostly Men Rhassoul Mud Soap
Date: 1996/02/24
Message-ID: <DnAzx3.3o8@iglou.com>
sender: news@iglou.com (News Administrator)
x-nntp-posting-host: iglou
organization: IgLou Internet Services (1-800-436-4456)
newsgroups: alt.bogus.group


(Note: This review came at a great personal cost to me. Every time I'd sit in front of this infernal box, I would develop a splitting headache or become angry and frustrated at nothing in particular. Also, the icy fall winds has chapped my hands to the point that I can't even clench the fuckers without ripping open the skin over my knuckles, making them manifestly unfit for testing soaps. It's clear that SOMEONE didn't want me to talk about soap, so I had no choice but to churn out this rather spotty review as quickly as possible, to type and be damned. Hopefully, this will teach the bastards to leave well enough alone and keep the hell out of my body. On with the show.)

As an American citizen, I am often isolated from foreign views and products, such as communism, Cuban cigars, and soaps. I can do without communism and stogies, but it is impossible to claim objectivity in my reviews when I am limited to corporate American soaps. While the United States government is not actively preventing foriegn soaps from entering the country (yet), the average citizen has a devil of a time obtaining an Asian or European soap. But thanks to the information superhighway, I have been contacted by a noble British citizen by the name of Chris Salt who, free of charge, sent me a box full of fine English soaps. Before the advent of the personal computer, I could only obtain British soaps by travelling to England or knowing someone who lived in England. Now the world is my oyster. Unfortunately, personal conflicts that are frankly none of your business prevented me from reviewing these soaps until now, months after my recieving of the beautiful package. These issues have been resolved, and I now intend to subject these exotic new soaps to an almost harmful amount of scrutiny.

Upon first examining the British soaps, I decided that the most intriguing sample was the The Body Shop's Mostly Men Rhassoul Mud Soap. The mud soap's most obvious deviation from the normal soap was its round yo-yo shape and granite coloring. It also has one of the most pleasantly distinctive odors I've encountered, and I'm sure I'll be racking my brains for words that adequately describe the smell.

(It should be pointed out that a soap composed of mud is a fucked up and ridiculous concept, right up there with drinks that make you thirsty and shoes that hurt your feet. Mud makes you dirty. Soap makes you clean. Dirty and clean are two mutually exclusive concepts, and any attempt to create a synthesis is doomed to failure. This soap is a complete failure, and I'm only anylyzing it in hopes that the world can learn from the Body Shop's mistake)

The wrapping consisted of nothing fancier than clear plastic wrap and a round sticker on each side. The front sticker (or at least the sticker on the end I took for the front) is black with white lettering, and isn't all that fancy. the top features The Body Shop logo, which consists of nothing fancier than the phrase "The Body Shop" written in popped-out letters with a wreath between "Body" and "Shop" and "The" hovering above. Beneath that and taking up most of the sticker is a white capital M tilted on to its side. It's tilted on its left side, and the thickness of the lines that the M is composed of varies in a distinct pattern. The top line, which would be the right end if the M were uprighted, is quite thick. The line after the next is of the same thickness, which makes the line sandwiched between the two seen very thin. The final line is as thick as the seemingly thin line. "Mostly" is written in black inside the top line of the M, and "Men" is written in the other thick line. "Rhassoul Mud Soap" is written in white at the FUCK FUCK FUCK bottom of the sticker, and is curved to hug the very rim of the sticker. It's hardly a striking design, and does nothing to suggest that the product is a soap.

The back label is even less distinctive. It consists of a white sticker with small black lettering concerning the soap.  The first phrase written on the sticker is "Ref: 1147".  I'm not sure what Ref: 1147 is, or what it has to do with the soap, but I imagine it has something to do with a legal bill passed concerning the issue in the next phrase: "AGAINST ANIMAL TESTING".  This implies political activism more than company policy.  On the other hand, it does not actually state that they don't test their soap on animals.  Granted, it's not very likely that they do, but I wouldn't put it past the soap-makers, considering some of the unscrupulous policies employed by some soap manufacturers.  (Ivory comes to mind.)  Beneath that, it says "100% Vegetable Base" in a smaller font.  Personally, there are some vegetables I wouldn't want to bath with.  Onions, for example.  Onions smell worse than dogshit.  And green peppers have all those little seeds that probably get right up the crack of your ass.  Even tomatoes would be fairly gross to wash with. In fact, I couldn't think of any vegetable substance that would produce a good soap base. Also, mud is a mineral substance, which makes me wonder what the hell they meant by "Mud Soap". Two lines down "C 0 7 9 5" is found.  This could indicate the date of manufacture- July 1995.  It also could serve in place of a bar code, which is noticeably lacking from the package. Ref: 1147 could also replace the bar code. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK Under the possible date in noticeably larger writing is "e 100 g", which, as the next line indicates in a smaller bold font, is the phrase "Net Weight When Packed".  The following two lines give the address of the makers: "The Body Shop", "BN17 6LS, England".  A town name is noticeably absent from this addres; perhaps the code at the start of the second line serves as a replacement.  I'm not knowledgable about European postal standards.  There was at one point a price sticker on the packaging, but I fucked up and lost it.  Sorry.

The soap itself is impressive in such a way as to make up for the lack of impressiveness in the package, although not so impressive as to require such awkward phrasing on my part.  The shape of the soap is round but slightly flattened, as if a ball of play-dough or silly putty had been rolled between the hands and pressed slightly- in other words, oblate.  The color, as I have said, it reminiscent of granite, or cookies and cream ice cream if the cookies in question had been crushed very finely, almost as though it had been ground into dust.  I like cookies and cream ice cream, and I like granite (although I prefer cookies and cream ice cream), so the color is pleasing.  I should note that the combination of the granite coloration and the oblate shape caused my brother to mistake this for a paperweight, perhaps provided by an auto detailing shop.  However, he found it a very pleasant paperweight.  There is a definite and rather obvious flash present, but I have never found flashes to be particularly repellant.   The top of the soap as the Body Shop logo imprinted on it.  This consists of a circular wreath-like design with The Body Shop printed at the top of the circle.  On the bottom, there is a small circular indentation, exactly big enough to hold a dime.  If you wanted to have a tasteful yet decorative dime holder, or to store a dime near and dear to your heart, you should try to obtain this soap.  Without any doubt or reservations whatsoever, the most favorable aspect of this soap is its odor.  The odor resembles that of Irish Spring, but goes far beyond that in that there is no hint of FUCK soapy odor in it whatsoever.  The smell is total aftershave, or perhaps men's cologne; musky, with a deeper smell of Old Spice, perhaps.  Now, I don't use Old Spice, or any other cologne.  In fact, right now, I stink like a fucking wino, though I don't usually; it's just early in the morning. But I appreciate the fine, sharp odor of a good cologne. For that reason, I advocate this soap if the fine odor has an impact on you.  It feels like soapstone. Although I know eating soap is very bad for you, and you should never do it, in the interests of experimental thoroughness I tasted a portion. It tasted salty and spicy, and not at all soap-like.  The taste is rather reminiscent of the taste one gets from licking human skin, with a soapy aftertaste.  It actually tastes quite nice, compared to the other soaps I've tasted. So, keep it away from children who might eat soap. When listened to, the soap is perfectly silent.  That covers all five senses.  The only truly enthralling sense is that of odor, although visually it's quite nice.

I proceeded to inscribe "Meatloaf" very sloppily on my hand with a "Pentel Rock'n Write" ink pen.  It took 45 seconds to completely erase the word "Meatloaf" (which was written with a fairly thorough pen) from my hand.  It was a very unpleasant wash.  The lather felt like mud, and I'd wager that the flecks in the soap are actually some sort of dirt-like concoction. This is a fucked-up and evil soap.  It says on the label that this is a "mud soap", but I didn't realize the implications of this until I went to wash with it.  You don't wash with mud, you wash mud OFF your goddamned body.  The entire idea is antithetical to the concept of soap as we know it.  It's like taking sleeping pills to keep you awake.  However, I should note that my hands did indeed smell very nice after I washed them with it.  Also, I feel obliged to point out that a soap called "Mostly Men" from a company called the Body Shop has definite homoerotic undertones for me. That probably says a lot about me, psychologically. In essence, this is a bad soap concept executed well. Avoid it unless you want something to hold your dimes in.  Not that it will be especially hard to avoid for most of us in the States.


--
eraserhead@iglou.com / Not the albino director / Tape trades welcome
See the Soap WWW page at: http://www.rahul.net/ndanger/soap/soap.html
ObCriminalSpeech: fuck.

Last edited by square (2008-08-01 03:02:59)

Finally, Rosa Venus:

From: eraserhead@iglou.com (David Lynch)
Subject: Review: Rosa Venus Beauty Soap
Date: 1996/02/24
Message-ID: <DnAzy1.3pC@iglou.com>
sender: news@iglou.com (News Administrator)
x-nntp-posting-host: iglou
organization: IgLou Internet Services (1-800-436-4456)
newsgroups: alt.bogus.group


I recently obtained a bar of Rosa Venus Beauty Soap, thanks to the noble efforts of Kevan Smith. Unlike most soaps nowadays, Rosa Venus is individually wrapped in wax paper, and is available at a price of only 25 cents a bar. That's one hell of a bargain in my book! I think all soap manufacturers should package their soaps just like Rosa Venus. Well, not exactly like Rosa Venus (the artistic designs should be different, for instance), but close enough that I could purchase most bars of soap for under 50 cents.

The packaging that I hold so dear consists of a folded piece of stiff wax paper that conforms to the shape of the bar of soap and a slightly plasticized outer wrapping that neatly enshrouds the soap and the wax paper. The plasticized nature of the outer wrapper reminds me of pricy Russel Stevens candies, like a pecan roll or a deluxe chocolate bar with almonds. This is a bit of a juxtaposition, as Russel Stevens candies are fairly expensive and Rosa Venus is the most affordable soap I've encountered in a long while. Also, Russel Stevens candy bars are quite edible, while Rosa Venus has a decidedly unpleasant aftertaste. I don't hold this against Rosa Venus, because a nice tasting soap is an abomination and has no place in the natural order of things. The reserved and understated nature of the packaging design adds to the candy-like nature of the wrapper, but somehow does not seem out of place in a gallery of soap packages. It's just a white wrapper with the Rosa Venus logo on it in various places. The Rosa Venus logo consists of an aerial view of a pink rose blossom with a few leaves beneath it. "Rosa Venus" is printed across the rose in a very distinctive font that I find difficult to anylyze. The "R" resembles a "B" with the bottom cut off, the "O" is perfectly round, the "S" is very thin, and the "A" resembles an upside-down "U" with a line through it. The "V" in "Venus" is incomparable to any other letter in the alphabet. The closest approximate would be an upside down "A" without a line, or a crudely drawn upside-down sketch of the pope's hat. The "E" resembles a backwards "B" with no straight line, the "N" resembles an upside-down "U", the "U" looks perfectly normal, and the second "S" is the same as the first. "Beauty Soap" is written in extremely tiny letters beneath "Rosa Venus", and you won't notice it unless you look for it carefully. I have my doubts as to whether or not it will even show up in the scan. Nothing graces the front of the package except for a miniscule "TM" beneath the second "S" and an equally tiny "Net Wt 3.52 OZ." in the lower right corner. The sides have nothing but the Rosa Venus logo, and the flaps are bare except for "Rosa Venus" written in the distinctively weird font that graces the logo. The upper half of the back features the Rosa Venus logo on the left and the bar code on the right. The UPC code for Rosa Venus is 12005 10670, if any of you intend to order a bar. The bottom half consists of the following text in the same tiny letters seen on the front of the package:

Rosa Venus is a registered trademark and made
by Fabrica De Jabon La Corona, S.A. De C.V.
Xalostoc. Edo. De Mexico.      Phone (525) 228-99-88
Mexico. 55340                  Reg. No. 44439 T.S.S.A.
Ingredients: Sodium Talolowate, Sodium Cocoate, Fragrance and Dye.

In the lower right hand corner, there is a small box square with an Aztec style eagle head and "Made In Mexico" printed inside it. This is the first time I've seen a foriegn counterpart to the "Made In U.S.A." logo that's stamped all over everything nowadays. Compared to the shitty American soaps with needlessly complicated packaging and lists of ingredient gobbledygook as long as your arm, this packaging was a real nice change of pace.

The main problem with reviewing soaps at night is the lack of an adequate source of light with which to judge the soap's coloration. Without the aid of the sun, I cannot make a truly adequate decision as to the color of the soap. While the soap appears to be a bit off-white in the bathroom and kitchen, it seems to have a somewhat pinkish hue to it when examined in the computer room. I'm sure that this is some kind of psychological abberation on my part caused by the pinkish nature of the name, but I can't examine the soap under the harsh light of day to ascertain the pigmentation of the soap. Intellectually, I know that the soap is off-white, but the perceived pastel tones of the soap gnaw at the back of my mind like a cancer. I'll put it this way: The soap isn't pink, but it may look that way in poor lighting. The odor of the soap also has little to do with roses. It basically smells like Lever 2000 or Zest, with a hint of perfume. It doesn't quite smell like a rose, but the name may lead you to believe that it does, just as you can suddenly hear the satanic mesasages in "Stairway To Heaven" only AFTER you're told where they are and what they're saying. The lack of flowery odor in Rosa Venus is just fine with me, because I don't really want to smell like a rose. The shape of the soap is perfectly generic like the bars of soap found in some gas station bathrooms, and reminds me of a large pill. It's 3 1/2 by 2 inches wide and a little more than half an inch thick, but seems smaller to me. The corners are rounded off neatly, and the "Rosa Venus" logo minus the rose is carved fairly deeply into both sides of the bar. There's an indentation on the upper side of the soap which was probably caused during manufacturing. It's barely noticeable, and it doesn't bother me one bit. Overall, the design of the bar is functional and attractive.

When I tested its cleaning ability, I found Rosa Venus to be a grand bargain. I wrote "Neet Loaf" on my right hand with a Papermate Write Bros. Medium ball-point pen and scrubbed away at it gingerly, due to a painful cut on my left middle fingertip. Despite the restraint I showed, the ink was completely removed within 45 seconds. That isn't a record-breaking time, but it's pretty damn good for a gently used 25 cent bar of soap. In addition, it left no odor and no soapy residue, as my dog was happy to lick my hands after I had washed them. My skin was left feeling clean, although somewhat itchy on the spots where I'm developing dishpan hands. That's really all there is to say about Rosa Venus, except that I heartily encourage all business owners to carry it at an affordable price, and that "Rosa Venus" would make a great name for a prostitute or an exotic dancer. If you see this fine soap for sale anywhere, be sure to pick up a couple of bars, and explain to the manager how pleased you are that they carry individually packaged soaps. Rosa Venus would be a bargain at five times the original price, and I'd like to see it become a famous soap in the years ahead. Thanks for your time.

--
eraserhead@iglou.com / Not the ornery director / Tape trades welcome
See the Soap WWW page at: http://www.rahul.net/ndanger/soap/soap.html
ObCriminalSpeech: piss.

square wrote:

For Taint and Pale, Mostly Men

Um, thanks, I guess. I'm a Dr. Bronner's guy myself and - I am assured by my doctor - entirely male. Which seems to suit the guys I like quite well.

You should be so lucky.