Experiments MSTies Anonymous Home Page SOL Post The Club MSTie Net



SOL Post 37 08/15/99
SOL Post 36 07/15/99
SOL Post 35 06/15/99



S.O.L. POST


==========================================================================
Volume 36 www.msties.com July 1999
Formerly The MSTies Anonymous Newsletter: News for the Obscure Convergence
==========================================================================


THE END IS NEAR!


In This Issue


From the Poobah
"One Week/One Weak Movie" by zapman24@home.com
"Origin of an Addict" by agent_moldy@yahoo.com
"Jenny For Your Thoughts" by mre@cinci.infi.net
"Better 'Bots and Satellites" by bgibron@yahoo.com
July MSTie of the Month: TServo9110@aol.com
August MST3K Schedule on SFC
Classifieds 3000
Disclaimers



From the Poobah


So, wouldn't you know it? Our new domain, www.msties.com, opened up just prior to the series finale of MST3K. And of course, it's costing me an arm and a leg. Any suggestions for fund-raisers to pay for the monthly charges? But anyways, the site is bigger and better than ever, so there's plenty to see and do (i.e. contribute!) in our lasting shrine to the show. Five episodes left... enjoy them while you can.



"One Week/One Weak Movie" by zapman24@home.com


It's been one week since you looked at meat
Cocked your head to one side
And said "It needs grease."
5 days since Krankor laughed at Prince saying
"YA SCUM," and "Now I'm gonna kill you!"
3 days since the TV room
I realized what that joke meant and what I was to do
Yesterday you'd humor me
But it'll still be 2 days till I say "You're MST."


Hold it now and watch the SOL thing
As it makes you make you stop, think
Think you're lookin' at Guessing Man
It summons flicks to the dish
Although I like the movie Abyss
And I like the pants
'Cause it's never touched the coat hanger
Hot like waffles when I riff lines
Big like felony crimes
Because I'm never about value
Coleman Francis' got the big hits
You try to match wits, you try to cancel
But I bust through
Like Rex Reason, I've got at cheezy show
Mine's about Crow
There'll be a big sound from Deep 13
Gonna take a break and shake a lame
Much like Terror From Year 5K
I like hamdingers, the finest of cuisines
Gotta see the show, cause the you'll know
The movie's gonna blow
It's so dangerous, you'll have to sign a waiver


How can I help it when I think you're funny
If Mitchell's bad
Laughin' really very hard and I feel glad
I'm the kind of guy who cries at a festival
Can't understand what I MST?
Well, ya soon will
I have a tendency to wear my mind on a Timmy
I have a history of pushing 'im out the airlock


It's been one week since I looked at you
Threw my arms in the air
And said "It's funny!"
5 days since you tripped over Crow
You still got the net and a golden patch on your knees
It's been 3 days since the afternoon
That was Hammer's fault
You weren't on 5 or anytime soon
Yesterday, I'd send a letter
And now I sit back and wait
'Til you say "From a MSTie."


Chickity puppet, the fluffy chicken
When you play with it your brain stops tickin'
Watchin' Hands of Fate with no lights on
We're at ConventioCon
I hope Barry's in this one
Like Ben Murphy I'm getting mellow,
Like Pearl I'll bellow
Like waffles guaranteed to satisfy


Like Greidanus I make bad films,
Okay, I don't make films
I did it would be "Earth vs. Soup"
Like the Bolarians, gotta dance 'til lunch
Hey, that's not much fun
Capt. Santa's a really really old guy
Gonna get a set a better clubs
Gotta kind the kind with tiny nubs
Just so my irons are always
Bashin' Crow's head in
Gotta get in tune with Gypsy Moon
'Cause that robot's got
The crash great legs
That make me think the future thing


How can I help it when I think you're funny
If Hamlet's bad
Laughin' really very hard and I feel glad
I'm the kind of guy who cries at a festival
Can't understand what I MST?
Well, ya soon will
I have a tendency to wear my mind on a Timmy
I have a history of pushing 'im out the airlock


It's been one week since you looked at me
Dropped your claws to your sides
And said "Bite me!"
5 days since I laughed at you and said
"You just did that Say What on the Lucky Loons"
3 days since Servo's room
We realized he had an Interociter
But what could we do?
Yesterday, you just muttered something
'Cause it'll still be 2 days
'Til I say "Push the Button"
Still be 2 days
'Til I say "Push the Button"
Still be 2 days
'Til I say "Push the Button"
Minnesota, home of the Best Brains...



"Origin of an Addict" by agent_moldy@yahoo.com


I'm basically a "reader" of the SOL Post, as I'm not much of a writer (I don't use enough $5 words). Well, that, and I usually can't think of anything more than a few words to say about MST3K that won't come out sounding like, "Duh, I like show. Show good." But, just this morning, as I sat down to my delicious stew of corn... green pepper... chicken... onion... I thought, "Hey, you can ramble on for hours! Surely you can ramble something halfway decent about MST3K and put it down on paper... er, screen, right?" Probably not. But I'm going to give it a shot anyway, and tell you how I came to know this wonderful show.


I remember oh, I don't know, maybe 8 years ago, flipping through the channels, and seeing an old movie that caught my attention. What the movie was, I don't remember, but just when I decided to park it there and watch the movie, I noticed three, black silhouettes at the bottom of the screen. They kept talking during the movie. All it did was irritate me, so I changed the channel. For some time after that, every time I'd see those silhouettes, I'd think, "Man! Why do these guys keep yakking through the movie? They're ruining it!" Hey, give me a break, people! I was young; what did I know?


Time passed, and I forgot about that show until one night I was at a party and someone turned on the TV to *gasp* that show! I silently cursed the person who left it on that channel, but I watched anyway because well, I had no choice really; it wasn't my house. But I also watched because the movie was one of the "Planet of the Apes" movies, and it took me back to my days as a child, when my big brother always forced me to watch what he wanted to watch, including the "Planet of the Apes" movies. Just as the painful memories started taking over my brain, I heard something spewed forth from the mouth of one of "the nuts," as my mom calls them, that both shut out the memories and made me laugh. "Hmm," I thought, "maybe I'll pay attention for a few minutes and see if they say anything else that's funny. If not, I can always leave the room." Needless to say, more funny lines followed, then more, and more, and more, and that was all she wrote. I've been a junkie ever since.


I'm just glad I'm able to hide the needle track marks.



"Jenny For Your Thoughts" by mre@cinci.infi.net


I want start off by apologizing. See, I asked people to write in and I couldn't receive their messages. The reason is my e-mail account got shut down by my school for the summer. Yup, I can't get at any of my mail and no one can send me anything. So if you have tried to send me anything (I know three people have already), sorry but I can't put your comments in this month's column because I can't get to it. But I promise to mention those who wrote in, though it might be in September when I go back to school. And anyone who wants to send me a note well I'm going try to get a new e-mail account soon. As soon as I do, I'll post what it is. Sorry to anyone who has been trying send me messages. Even though this is not my fault, I feel responsible.


Well with that out the way, on to this month's column. If you haven't seen it yet, Entertainment Weekly has a focus on the eBay sale by saying that we're hawking MST3K stuff. Actually, it said, "After suffering the indignity of cancellation, the connoisseurs of cinematic crap have started hawking MST3K props on eBay... to raise dough for the parent company Best Brains." I love it whenever MST3K is mentioned but I don't know to whether take that statement as a praise or an insult. It seems like a negative mention. Maybe that is my reading of it, but it does. If I'm wrong, it wouldn't be the first time. Why doesn't Entertainment Weekly focus on us MSTies raising money to put an ad in Variety? That's entertainment news and is something that doesn't happen every day. Yes, people wrote in to save the show, but raising money for an ad is on a completely different level. Right now I wish I had my e-mail service so I could write to people at EW (their address is letters@ew.com). But if you'd like to, go right on ahead. I'll be glad to sign my name to your letter (as long as it's a nice letter). Just make sure you put your name, address, and day telephone number. (Hey it's their rules, not mine.)


But isn't that like Hollywood and the entertainment news to focus on the negative? A prime example is Weird Al Yankovic (one of my favorite singers who also asked Joel Hodgson to be in his next movie or video). In his "Behind the Music" Special, it stated that Al has never smoked, done drugs, sleept with a lot of women, or anything extremely bad. And what do they do and repeat about a million times? When Coolio got really mad at Al for doing parody of "Gangster Paradise." And do you what know why? Because it was the only bad thing they could dig up or focus on. Man, that type of thing really makes me mad. It just reminds me of when Mike presented The Band That Played California Lady in 1007 Track of the Moon Beast. The only things he talked about were the drugs, sex, and alcohol.


Chance are I'm wrong and I wrote this because of a misunderstanding. If so, then I'm sorry. And to make up for probably being wrong, here's my own little writing. A mix of MST3K and Hamlet called Cramlet.


Cramlet a son of good king Joelties of Solmark. He is sad because Joelties is gone. Cramlet is also angry that Gypterud has so hastily brought up a new person to fill the king's shoes. The new king, Mikausa, is now ruler of Solmark. Cramlet thinks he see a ghost of Joelties and decides to act mad by not remembering anyone. His girlfriend Tomphila is worried that Cramlet is acting mad. Cramlet says he can't remember anyone. Mikausa is worried and scared because he thinks it's because Joelies has left. Bobolinas thinks it's because Cramlet's chicken puppet is missing. Tomphila goes undercover to prove Bobolinas be right, but Cramlet just yells at Tomphila. Bobolinas still thinks he is right, but Mikausa know he is not. Cramlet gives big speech about killing himself. Cramlet goes up to talk to Gypterud while Bobolinas spies in her room. Cramlet kills Bobolinas. Mikausa then sends Cramlet for a time-out.


Meanwhile, Tomphila has gone mad and stared to collect underwear. Tomphila's brother Tomtes (Hey, there can be more than one Tom Servo.) comes back to find his sister dead. Cramlet comes back from his time-out and meets Digger Smolken. Cramlet find skull of former friend Beebick and does a speech, "Alas poor Beebick I knew him well... Still, what a dickweed." Cramlet finds out that Tomphila is dead and Tomtes challenges Cramlet to a duel. The liquid served by Mikausa is poisoned with Hamdingers, which no one likes. The fight begins, the swords clash, and Gypterud drinks the poisoned glass of Hamdinger. Being allergic to Hamdingers, Gypterud dies. Cramlet cuts Tomtes with his sword. Cramlet then cuts Mikausa and makes him drink the poison drink. Mikausa dies. Tomtes forgives Cramlet before he dies. And Cramlet takes a long time to also die. Fortenbras comes and makes a speech, talking about the circle of life. Everyone revives from acting dead and sings a version of "Hakuna Matata" and finishes up with "Can You Feel the Love Tonight?" The End.



"Better 'Bots and Satellites" by bgibron@yahoo.com


Vol. 1 Issue 12
Crack in the USSR: It's Norway or the Highway.


When the history of the 20th Century is finally chiseled in thick slabs of granite, there will definitely be a chapter dedicated to those events that, even with the most Nostrodamian foresight, no one would have ever been able to predict, not even from those "real" psychics who offer you the first 10 minutes of your reading for "free." Who could have expected the gigantic expansion of the computer/technology age into every nook and cranny of the globe, linking impoverished third world famine victims with the very cream of the first world pedophilic crowd? Who envisioned the fall of the Berlin Wall, indicating once and for all that, while possibly a good idea, any attempt to barricade a German meets with disappointment and a Roger Waters concert? And what Kreskin could have anticipated the continuing attempts by a Moss and Crawford to purge a brainwashed population of their natural, nutritional desire to eat fat, sugar, and salt in such abundance that General Foods has finally figured out the perfect snack food for the year 2000: high fructose whale blubber?
But head and shoulders, or maybe that's hammer and sickle above all others is the death, eulogy and probate of Communism, the drawing back, removal and storing of the Iron Curtain and the selling to gypsies for dancing purposes of the moldering, tottering Great Empirical Bear of the East. Once a mighty and powerful threat, the Red Menace holds no more weight or importance than Boris Yeltsin's AA counselor. Just like that other "Menace" currently fending for itself in the hearts of a fickle, me-oriented media world, when faced with an onslaught of poopie jokes, teenage sexual angst and the Blair Witch's unmentionables, the USSR grabbed its merchandise tie-ins and headed for pay- per-view. Where once there was a superpower, a nation poised at the crimson dawn of a new age of benightedness, we now see a disjointed cross-section of Corleone/Deniro wannabes, sleazy personal ads in broken, pidgeon English and eBay auctions of nuclear secrets.
Yes, the Soviet Union was once a true threat to our Shake-a-Pudding way of life. With their nasty atomic needles pointed directly at our grandmothers' pacemakers, the Russkies made us believe that, any day now, we would wake up to the smell of charring flesh, our eye sockets melting from the electron- accelerated mid air light show and with Steve Guttenberg, leaking puss and talentlessness from his radiation-sickened body as he wanders the Kansas countryside wondering if the title "The Day After" had anything to do with his future career in show business. After working their magic on that crazy mono- testicled Austrian in WWII, the Marxist meanies were heck bent for cabbage on taking over the rest of the globe, one unsuspecting sovereign after another. And they would have succeeded, had not their history and culture sidetracked them into becoming a bunch of potato alcohol drinking, stale fish egg feasting, standing in line for a blini bunch of post-90's wet farts.
Sure, Ronald Reagan and the Republicans can hoot and holler as loudly as their hillbilly, white supremacist constituency that they won the Cold War and Democrats can try and debate the fact that, through humanitarian and cultural exchanges, the USA topped the New World Order bestsellers list. After all, it takes a politician to conceive of the notion that a trade-off between Professor Irwin Corey and Yakov Smirnoff actually played some part in world peace. But in reality, the Russians really beat themselves. A cursory glance at their mythology and legends indicate that, like borsht, there is a lot left to be desired. "Better 'Bots and Satellites", with the help of those commie combatants at MST3K can make a very clear case for the eventual overthrow of that big stinking pile of Bolshevik. With the help of the episodes 422 Day the Earth Froze, 505 Magic Voyage of Sinbad, 617 Sword and the Dragon, and 813 Jack Frost, the predestined demise of those collectivist clowns is blatantly visible...
For you see, Russians are afraid of the wind. And not just the kind that passes 'from out the bowel' after their 87th portion of sour cream. That's right, as Basil Fawlty once stated, "The rapid movement of air (threatens to) damage them irreparably." A summer breeze may make Seals and Croft feel fine, but apparently jasmine isn't the only thing running through the mind of the average Trotskyite. How else would you explain its appearance as a source of peril and dread in "Day The Earth Froze"? Presented as something a little more substantial than a buckwheat blintz or a special guest star, this nasty bit of atmosphere does everything, from carrying a witch's shawl clear across every fjord, inlet and bay in Russia and Finland, to freezing everything down to as close to absolute zero as a bunch of Vodka pickled Slavs and Serbs can get without help from MIT. In "Day The Earth Froze", you see, the wind is controlled by a witch, who keeps it locked up in giant Hefty Hefty Hefty bags, where it moans and cries and basically carries on like a junior high school teeny bopper being denied tickets to a Kid Rock concert. It may tipple down the streets of the gulag, shrieking at everybody it sees, but it's gotta be named something more than Windy.
Or what of the puffy, crocked, face that would stop an atomic clock Wind Demon in "Sword and the Dragon"? Dressed in what appears to be the ratty chest hair of Gino Vanelli and quite content to sit all day long in the ugly tree (which he must have fallen out of about 1000 times before and hit every branch on the way down) he is the very personification, or anthropomorphism, of a foul gale in the gallows. Apparently, no one had ever challenged this demon's reign of zephyr before the arrival of Joe Don Mourometz, the kind of bloated, elephantine stupor hero that only a mind raised on Czars and sturgeon can conceive. Withstanding the sickening sirocco expelled by this inhuman gas bubble, the big Il does little more than toss a club laced with Beano and Gas- Ex at the airy imp and, before you can say "The cat did it," and after a momentarily halt in the rotation of the planets which is actually captured on film, the rotund rotter finds himself dangling from the meaty mitt of our hypertensive hero. If only all matters of wind could be so easily defeated. Alas, this apparently only works on Beelzebub's pet bilabial fricative.
And when one thinks of gastric swelling, abdominal distention and intestinal tornadoes, one automatically thinks of food. The dangers of dessert, the hazards of hamatashun, the banefulness of bratwurst seem to concern the Stalinist and Leninist alike. Just look at that Roquefortian rapscallion, that truffled troublemaker, that veritable fungus among us known as the little old Mushroom Man from "Jack Frost". This ill-tempered toadstool can find nothing better to do with his time that tease the townsfolk, tinkle his irritating mystical bells and cast spells and spores. When given the chance, he will engage you in a friendly game of hide-and-seek, cheat like a motherscratcher and then change your very genetic makeup so that you resemble nothing short of a Baltic version of Grizzly Adams. Add to this a shrill, pixie-ish voice that tends to warp the spinal column and a beard filled with his own private version of Mountain Dew, and he's enough to put you off solids for an epoch or two.
Yet not every slice of Russo-Finnish cinema is "Fear and Mastication in St. Petersburg". At least one film envisioned a time in the United Starvers of the Soviet Republic where food was so plentiful that it could be used as the backdrop for an entire fashion trend. As exemplified by the Food Quilt in "Sword and the Dragon", the designers of the early 5th century saw nothing wrong with stitching a few figs or pomegranates into the hem of a peasant blouse, or embroider a collection of elderberries in the cuffs of a pair of work pants. Bedspreads came complete with bread spreads and a pair of Coolots had their own tacked-in tastiness. The truly gifted manufacturer of haute couture and cuisine could create a smart three piece suit with four course meal enclosed. Not quite to your liking? Alterations were free, as long as they didn't require a major substitution, say salad for potatoes au gratin or chowder for fruit cup. In the end, however, this trend failed to catch on. Models complained the fashions made them look fat. No wonder, what with their basting of brisket and seams of sauerbraten. Just wearing the garments added 20 pounds.
And there is one thing that Russian women do not need and that is added tonnage. The examples presented to us in the characters of Anikki from "Day the Earth Froze", Neptune's daughters in "Magical Voyage of Sinbad", and the good sister, Nastya in "Jack Frost" make is very clear why so many of the current crop of concubines by mail come back stamped 'return to sender; species unknown'. Now, it could be argued that most of the heroines in these films have an apple-cheeked freshness that can only be achieved through a daily bath of goat's milk and a few slaps from a demanding, abusive Ukrainian oil rig worker, and that, over all, they are easy on the eye, if not a little light on the shorts. Still, most have an elk in the sleigh lamp look that manages to evoke fear, cluelessness and onions all at the same time. They wear their never touched by a pair of real scissors haystack hair in an elaborate series of braids, bobs, weaves and ringlets in hopes of hiding the fact that it is drier, courser and more flyaway than the alfalfa surrounding Uncle Ivan's Siberian summerhouse. They are plump and plucky, walking that body image tightrope carefully. They sit poised precariously between icicle and tundra, a scant serving of stroganoff away from a date with Bruin Hilda's Big and Tall Babushka Oulet Store. And these are the cute ones?
On the other end of the attractiveness abyss are the various witches, mothers and step-sisters who are presented, rightfully so, as the objects of ridicule, disgust and diarrhea in these cinematic bidets. If one had to make a choice between the Sampo-crazed crag hag of "Day the Earth Froze", the mole and boil encrusted, break-dancing homeowner (only the house knows how to pop and rock; the crone seems stuck in some kick line from a Busby Berkeley nightmare) from "Jack Frost", or the mother and child disunion of same, many would be heading to the homo hills before they could scream "Judy Garland." Wearing faces manufactured out of the illustrators of "Famous Monsters Magazine"'s night terrors, and piling bulky hips into king size bed sheet skirts, corpulent legs into overflowing closed toed clogs and swollen bosoms into industrial grade brassieres (hopefully!) these monstrous maidens supply libido control upon demand as they scowl, howl and prowl for any and everything that will conceivably give them a feminine thrill, be it feathered, furred or festering. So what if they die in pits of fire, or boil in vats of steaming sulfur water? It's their fault for not being more comely, dammit.
And for what? What is the end game to all these quests, voyages and journeys? Riches? Gold? A date with Rula Lenska? No, its usually some totally lame talisman, some magical object de farte that serves no other function than to move the plot along and give the hero something to hold in his otherwise sweaty and beet-stained hand. Take, for example, the Bluebird of Happiness that is the mission of Sinbad in "Magic Voyage of Sinbad". Is it some golden fleece, destined to provide its capturer untold wealth, peace, tranquillity and victor status in the Hall of Legends? No, it's a disturbing half-human bird woman, shifting awkwardly on its rhinestoned perch, whose innate charm and merit come from the fact that, when it sings, people fall asleep. Hey, E.J. Peaker achieved the same affect in the 1960's and you don't see anyone making deals with Poseidon's kids to fund a travelogue to capture her.
Or take the Sampo! No, not the Maypo, or the Maypole, or the little black. I am talking about the impetuous to all the shenanigans and goings on in "Day the Earth Froze". It is not the reason for the freezing of the Earth, mind you. That has something to do with a horse forged out of Hell's inferno, a blond bozo with a bowl cut and a name like a ice box cookie, and hundreds of hopped-up gnomes. No, apparently, when created by a master Sampo builder, it is a fully functional one-armed bandit dispensing silver, gold and grain from its carved openings. Now, one can imagine the uses for gold and silver, even if one is not Burl Ives. But grain? Sure, you can plant it and raise it and then reap it and sow it and then process and grind it and mix it and kneed it and mark it with a B and put it in the oven for Boris and me, but when it comes right down to it, can't you do the same thing with a gold coin, a bakery and a simple cash transaction? That's right, this is Russia, a place where the wonder is not the bread, but its availability.
Clearly, with such a malformed vision of what should be glorified and villified, it was only a matter of weeks before the western ideal of satiating one's hunger, cleansing one's body and capitalizing one's economic priorities would take over and the Moscow Rainforest Cafe would open, complete with animatronic animals, plants and queues. Russia was destined to fall by the wayside and make room for Russo-Disney, complete with rides like Space Race Mountain, 20,000 Leagues Under the Black Sea, and Petrov Panski. So what if Ilya Mourometz defeats the Togars, or Lugars or Fugees and is reunited with his son. Big whoop that Lemminkainen wins the girl, unfreezes the Earth and destroys the Sampo. B.F.D. that Sinbad gets the golden fish, rescues that psychosis-inducing bluebird and sits in as Neptune's gals turn into TLC and proceed to chase waterfalls as well as the rivers and lakes they are used to. Who gives a rat's booty about how things turn out in "Jack Frost"?
Not us. Not the USA. Why? Because we are Americans, the vapid master race of the rest of the newly-free world and, after that debacle known as Vietnam, we will take a war win whenever and wherever we can get it, even if it was only cultural and political in nature. Just give us a few years. We will turn the Kremlin into a K-Mart, Lenin's Tomb into Uncle Lenny's Final Resting Place and Tourist Attraction, and Chernobyl into an Outward Bound experience. And if there is one thing that you can be guaranteed 100% in writing, that will never ever be seen in this or any other lifetime, it's this: Americans will never, ever miss an opportunity to exploit, destroy and defame a foreign culture or its art. After all, that's the way our forefathers would have wanted it. At least that's what it says at the start of the Hall of Presidents.



July MSTie of the Month: TServo9110@aol.com


Name: Pat the Bold
Occupation: Nanite Union Leader ($$$)
Age: 15


Faves
Episode: 910 Final Sacrifice
Movies: "Bridge Over the River Kwai", "Lawrence of Arabia", and "Good Will Hunting"
Bands: KoRn, The Living End, Tom Servo's Medeival Quartet
Books: "Ender's Game" and "Martin the Warrior"
Foods: Cheeseburger, corned beef, and pizza.
Artists: Roy Lechtenstein and Monet.
MST Quotes: "It's so important to make your dreams of hapiness come true."
"And remember, when you touch yourself the saints cry. Goodnight!"


"This is how I like to fish- with a flashlight and flamethrower."


"Where are you from?" -Movie
"Studsville. Population: me." -Servo


"Canada is for lovers."


"Geniuses should never work together."
"So these two should do just fine."



August MST3K Schedule on SFC


North America
{All times are Eastern and tentative}
08/01/99 - 11:00 am - [1012] Squirm
08/07/99 - 11:00 pm - [1012] Squirm
08/08/99 - 11:00 pm - [1013] Danger: Diabolik
08/09/99 - 11:00 pm - [1013] Danger: Diabolik
08/14/99 - 11:00 am - [1013] Danger: Diabolik
08/15/99 - 11:00 pm - [0810] Giant Spider Invasion
08/21/99 - 11:00 am - [0811] Parts: the Clonus Horror
08/22/99 - 11:00 pm - [0812] Incredibly Strange Creatures
08/28/99 - 11:00 am - [0814] Riding With Death
08/29/99 - 11:00 pm - [0815] Agent for H.A.R.M.



Classifieds 3000


hquiej@netwood.net writes: "Dorkin's Incredible Web Page is back up and running, and better than ever! Visit it now at http://members.tripod.com/~MSTManos/mst3k.html. And don't forget to sign up for the newsletter, which now has 100+ members!"


phenderson@greenhillsschool.org writes: "Come visit the new Donald Pleasance MST3k Link Database-add your link while looking up others. http://mst3000.virtualave.net/links/index.html"



Disclaimers


All material written by club members in this publication does not necessarily reflect the views or opinions of the staff of MSTies Anonymous. Endorsement of above publicized activities not operated by MSTies Anonymous should not be implied. Published material is subject to editing only for spelling, grammar, clarity, and formatting; other changes are not made without express written consent of the author.


Mystery Science Theater 3000, its characters and situations are copyright 1999 Best Brains, Inc. This publication is not meant to infringe on any copyrights held by Best Brains, the Sci-Fi Channel, or their employees. "Gizmonics" and all related elements are copyright and trademark Joel Hodgson. This publication is not meant to infringe on any copyrights held by him, so please do not sue us.


© MCMXCIX MSTies Anonymous
The Poobah
mstanon@msties.com
Jet Jaguar kret0419@blue.UnivNorthCo.edu
Zen Psycho zenpsycho@yahoo.com


"C'mon and buy some crap from us... You know you do want to!"



Back to SOL Post.
Back to MSTies Anonymous.