Please all Doomers, go out and tell all your neighbors and co-workers about the impending apocalypse. Laugh at them and tell them they are all going to die when they mock you and ignore you. Max out all your credit cards and use the cash for preparations. Because _everyone_ knows that the credit industry will not exist after the rollover so get as much cash out of these magic plastic cards as you can now. If your wife or husband is giving you grief about your spending on preps tell them to get lost and get a divorce. If you are employed tell your boss to go f* himself and quit so that you can stay home and defend your property. Only when all of this has been accomplished can one truly say they back up words with actions.

-- You Knowwho (debunk@doomeridiots.com), November 15, 1999

Answers

Thanks for another good chuckle. I've collected quite a folder now for "duh 2000". This one is quite as good as your last few, but thanks anyway for the feeble attempt. This was supposed to be funny, right?

TA

-- TA (sea_spur@yahoo.com), November 15, 1999.

Well in regards to the plastic may I point folks to Arnolds site and the remediation efforts of his benevolent employer.

 +Arnold Trembley's Home Page Master Charge, Time Machine

You know who

If you had any intelligence you would have pointed out the above link showing that the plastic companies are diligent in their efforts to keep their systems operating. So dummy up and get with the program. Emotional rhetoric just places you in the same camp as those that see the "end of times".

You are feeding that which you despise.

-- Brian (imager@home.com), November 15, 1999.

bye, now!

-- and (off@it.goes), November 15, 1999.

Gawd, this is WORST AND MOST IRRESPONSIBLE piece of advice that I have EVER seen. Glad this moron isn't a doomer, it would make me feel ashamed!

-- King of Spain (madrid@aol.cum), November 15, 1999.

debunk reminds me of the bully on Andy Griffith. He called Opie "Dopie Opie" and finally he challenged Opie to knock a chip off his shoulder. Why, oh why, Mr debunk, do you have a chip on your shoulder. I'll tell you what, I'm going to turn around and walk away.

-- Guy Daley (guydaley@bwn.net), November 15, 1999.

You are such a FOAMER... you can almost see the flecks of spittle on the computer screen...

Got rabies?

(snicker)

watchin' the loser...

The Dog

-- Dog (Desert Dog@-sand.com), November 15, 1999.

Someone could explain to this genius codeslinger about the software problem....

Naaaah...it's so much more fun to watch him go postal! Please, nobody tell him, okay?

-- (UnusuallyStupid@troll.doh), November 15, 1999.

-- (.@x....), November 15, 1999.

The doubt of future foes exiles my present joy, And wit me warns to shun such snares as threaten mine annoy; For falsehood now doth flow, and subjects' faith doth ebb, Which should not be if reason ruled or wisdom weaved the web.

But clouds of joys untried do cloak aspiring minds, Which turn to rain of late repent by changed course of winds.

The top of hope supposed the root upreared shall be, And fruitless all their grafted guile, as shortly ye shall see.

The dazzled eyes with pride, which great ambition blinds, Shall be unsealed by worthy wights whose foresight falsehood finds.

The daughter of debate that discord aye doth sow Shall reap no gain where former rule still peace hath taught to know.

No foreign banished wight shall anchor in this port; Our relm brooks not seditious sects, let them elsewhere resort.

My rusty sword through rest shall first his edge employ To poll their tops that seek such change or gape for future joy.

-- yet another.... (poetry@motion.com), November 15, 1999.

Actually I think the sarcasm is quite funny myself.

-- the Virginian (1@1.com), November 15, 1999.

What goes up, must come down, spinning wheel got's to go round, talk about your troubles, it's a cry'n shame ride a painted poney, let the spinning wheel spin....

-- Look deep within my eyes (winken@blinken.now), November 15, 1999.

Two thousand zero zero party's over were out of time, so tonight I'm gonna party likes it 1999

-- getalife (karlacalif@aol.com), November 15, 1999.

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed--and gazed--but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

-- Poetry is (now@in.motion), November 15, 1999.

The problems of one man doesn't amount to a hill of beans in this town.

-- kritter (kritter@adelphia.net), November 15, 1999.

Way to stick it to the "dommeridiots" Youknowwho. You really got their number. Just remember to stick to your guns. You can put your money where your mouth is because you have got this on nailed. Don't even have so much as a stick of gum at your place. That'll show 'em. Stick to your guns and anyone who tells you otherwise is full of s*** and you just tell them to go f*** themselves.

-- PD (PaulDMaher@att.worldnet.com), November 15, 1999.

Oliver's Army by Elvis Costello

Don't start me talkin; I could talk all night.
My mind is sleepwalkin, while I'm puttin the world to right.
Called Careers Information. Have you got yourself an occupation?

And Oliver's Army is here to stay. Oliver's Army is on their way.
And I would rather be anywhere else, than here today.

There was a check point Charlie; he didn't crack a smile.
But it's no laughing party, when you've been on the murder mile.
All it takes is one itchy trigger. One more widow, one less white ni**er.

(repeat chorus)

Hong Kong is up for grabs; London is full of Arabs.
We could be in Palestine, or overrun by the Chinese line.
With the boys from the Mersey and the Thames and the Tyne.

But there's no danger. It's a professional career.
It could be arranged, with just a word in Mr. Churchill's ear.
If you're out of luck and out of work, we could send you to Johannesburg.

(Repeat chorus)

oh oh oh ohhhh oh oh oh oh oh (fade)

-- songmeister (singin@the.rain), November 15, 1999.

In case it was overlooked I was being sarcastic, YKw, would recommend reading any of the following in the next two weeks 1) "Night", Elie Weisel 2) "Gulag Archipelago", Alexander Solschinitzen (sp) 3) "Rise and Fall of the Third Reich" 4) Any passage of scripture

If you have read these consider again. For many this has been a century filled with horrors and suffering. Let's hope and prey earnestly that the next is much better.

-- PD (PaulDMaher@att.worldnet.com), November 15, 1999.

Here's some scraps, Troll...

I wonder what it is, exactly, that vicious pollys think that they are going to "win" if they are right? I haven't yet bought anything that I won't use in a BITR, so I'm not going to lose anything. It's wierd.

Not that this post is from a polly. There's clearly some deep seated emotional trauma operating here. I'm betting that this poster has a small stock, and is terrified that it's not big enough, but is also terrified that his bowling buddies or wife will find it and drag him around behind their pickup for being one of "them there faggot Commie hoarders."

Actually, I won't bet on that. I don't like betting, that's why I've stocked. ;)

-- Colin MacDonald (roborogerborg@yahoo.com), November 16, 1999.

NOVEMBER 1806

Another year!--another deadly blow!

Another mighty Empire overthrown!

And We are left, or shall be left, alone;

The last that dare to struggle with the Foe.

'Tis well! from this day forward we shall know

That in ourselves our safety must be sought;

That by our own right hands it must be wrought;

That we must stand unpropped, or be laid low.

O dastard whom such foretaste doth not cheer!

We shall exult, if they who rule the land

Be men who hold its many blessings dear,

Wise, upright, valiant; not a servile band,

Who are to judge of danger which they fear,

And honour which they do not understand.

-- Commit random (acts@of.poetry), November 16, 1999.

THE ORIGINAL DOOMER SONG?

Don't you understand, what I'm trying to say?

Can't you see the fear that I'm feeling today?

If the button is pushed, there's no running away,

There'll be noone to save with the world in a grave,

Take a look around you, boy, it's bound to scare you, boy,

But you tell me over and over and over again my friend,

why you don't believe that we're on the eve of destruction.

from - EVE OF DESTRUCTION

Barry McGuire 1965

-- Risteard MacThomais (uachtaran@ireland.com), November 16, 1999.