Now, where was I? . . . Oh. Senior citizen discounts. Well, actually, some of 'em ain't so bad. Take the local theatre--they charge senior citizens the matinee price ALL the time, which is a coupla bucks off the regular price. Maybe they figure we can't stay awake to make it past matinee time, anyway. Hell, it don't matter.

What does chap my ever-luvin' ass is the price o' their concessions. I mean, JEEBUS H. GOLDSTEIN, III!! They can kiss my wrinkled behind if they think I'm gonna fork over five dollars fer a big coke and another five fer a tub o' popcorn! Hell, candy's three to five bucks a pop; if'n you want a microwaved hot dog, that's ANOTHER five friggin' Georges. Damn. Highway robbery.

Well, no way, Jose'. Me 'n' that jackass Wonderaz do like to take in a flick from time to time at our local bijou, but we go prepared. No problem to tuck a can o' sodie pop and a sack or two o' peanuts in the ol' coat pockets an' just slide on in like you own the place.

Wonder liked to complain, though, that his sodie pop got too warm fer his likin' by the time he made it inside. On top o' that, he'd start whinin' about eatin' peanuts whenever he'd get a whiff o' someone munchin' on one o' those tasty, microwaved hot dogs. One day, he decided he'd had enough and took some action. . .

That jackass decided to go "hi-tech".

There's folk in this world who are so damn cheap, they'll spend a dime to save a nickle, so to speak. His jackassedness is one o' them folk.

Ol' Wonderaz got busy. He gathered up an old wheelchair, a couple o' car batteries, some other odds 'n' ends, and built himself a rollin', do-it-yourself, bijou-deli. I'll hand this much to him--he worked like a sharecropper. He finally got it finished, so I went with him to give 'er a spin. It just so happend it was openin' night for "The Titanic".

The irony.

Oh, our local bijou was jam-packed. We made it in okay, and because the jackass was in a wheelchair, we got to pull into one of those special handicap seating areas they have carved outta the seats these days. I must admit, it was pretty nice, havin' all that room to stretch, etc., especially in a sold-out house like that evenin' was.

Anyway, when the lights went down, ol' Wonderaz went to work whippin' up a most righteous feast. He had a compact refrigerated ice compartment on one side and a little bitty microwave oven on the other side. 'Tween his legs was the hot nacho cheese crock pot. Of course, hot dogs, links and sodie pops were stashed in the refrigerated ice compartment; chips, buns, candy, nuts and other essentials were stuffed in various pouches arranged here 'n' there around the chair. Man, all that weight put quite a strain on those old wheel spokes, 'specially when that jackass sat his lardass down. But, it held.

Everything went peachy-keen fer a little while; I was suckin' down a cold, frosty root beer, in between bites of some cheese nachos, a pretzel and a steamin' hot-link on a warm bun, drippin' with mustard and covered with onions. Trouble started brewin', though, when this toeheaded, 5-year old brat started to howl right behind Mister Wonderdeli.

Little Johnny Joe was his name; a name I'm sure Wonderaz'll not easily forget. The little shit was sittin' right behind ol' Wonder and, out of the clear blue sky, started wailin' fer some nachos.

"Ah wunt NAAAW-choze!!", he started chanting for all to hear, "Ah wunt sum NAAAAAW-cho-woze, NOW!! AH WUNTS ME SUM NAAAAAWW-CHOZE!!!!! That kid had set o' lungs on him, I'm here to tell.

"Johnny Joe! Hush up! Shhhhh! Johnny JOE? I said, SHHHHHH!!!" To no avail, his momma pleaded and shushed in a stage whisper loud enough to wake the dead, instead o' takin' the little pork-butted runt outside to the lobby an' applyin' some well-deserved heat to his chubby behind.

In what seemed like no time at all, every head in the theatre was turned, a-gawkin' at the racket. In short order, ol' Wonderaz'd had all he could stand. Thus, he jerked around in his wheelchair toward the boy's momma and hollered, "DAMMIT! Why don't you get that little shit to . . . ."

Those were the only words to make it out of his mouth before being abruptly interrupted by blinding arcs and sparks, accompanied by a blood-curdling, KA-POW!-POP!-POP!-Ziiiit-Zzziiiiiit!!-POP!-Zit-Zit-Zzziiit!!!

You see, little Johnny Joe was holdin' one o' those huge 5-dollar buckets (I'd call it a cup, but "cup" don't do it justice) full o' theatre sodie pop. When the jackass spun around, his arm hit squarely on li'l Johnny's sodie pop. The contents flew up in the air, drenching not only Johnny and Wonderaz, but Wonder's two, fully-charged car batteries, as well.

They cleared the theatre and canceled the show that evening. The stench of burnt hair was unbearable and, in one big belch from between Wonder's legs, hot nacho cheese sprayed everyone in a 50-foot radius like gooey, orange snot.

Fortunately, I was able to catch a ride to the home because I couldn't see a damn thing fer at least 30-minutes afterwards, due to all those bright, white flashes.

As for the jackass and li'l Johnny Joe, an ambulance came an' hauled 'em both to the hospital. They loaded Wonderaz into the back, wheelchair an' all, since several parts of his body were welded and melted together with his clothing and parts o' the wheelchair.

Wonderaz was released from the hospital after several days, but got thrown in the county slammer for disturbing the peace less than a half-hour later. Seems he went to a local convenience store to get a can o' chew and caused quite a ruckus when he saw the donation bucket by the cash register with a picture of a grinning, round-faced, bald-headed boy. The message on it read, "DONATIONS TO HELP LITTLE JOHNNY JOE BUY A WIG".

Amen.

I guess the most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you become ashamed of because words diminish them, words shrink things that seemed timeless when they were in your head, to no more than living size when they are brought out. Don't be afraid to tell someone you love them. If you do, they might break your heart, but if you don't, you might break theirs.

Have you ever decided not to become a couple because you were so afraid of losing what you already had with that person? Your heart decides who it likes and who it doesn't. You can't tell your heart what to do. It does it on its own, when you least suspect it or even when you don't want it to. Have you ever wanted to love someone with everything you had, but that other person was too afraid to let you?

Too many of us stay walled because we are too afraid to care too much, for fear that the other person does not care as much, or at all. Have you ever loved someone and they had absolutely no idea whatsoever? Or fallen for your best-friend in the entire world, and then sat around and watched him or her fall for someone else? Have you ever denied your feelings for someone because your fear of rejection was too hard to handle?

We tell lies when we are afraid, afraid of what we don't know, afraid of what others will think, afraid of what will be found out about us. Every time we tell a lie, the thing we fear grows stronger. Life is all about risks and it requires you to jump. Don't be a person who has to look back and wonder what they would, or could have had. No one waits forever.

1. Hurt yourself. Nothing amuses Keith more then my accidentally bashing my head into something. I am not sure as to why this works so well as a way of cheering up little children, but it may have something to do with #11.

2. Teach them many curse words. A colorful vocabulary is essential in this developmental stage. Besides, nothing is cuter then telling a 2 year old to pick something up and having them respond “Fuck off, bitch!” See #14.

3. Kids dig flashing lights. When those cop cars are chasing you after you find $500 (on an old lady), slow down a bit so they stay close. And when they do catch you and begin beating you down, make sure the kid has a full view. See #1.

4. Treat children at this age as you would a stoner of any age. Trust me. See #1-21

5. When they are going to bed in their room, put on a bunch of their movies and play with all their toys. Make sure they can hear. See #16

6. See #7

7. Set things on fire.

8. Children pick up on the speech patterns of their caretakers. Speak sometimes with a Scottish accent, sometimes with a Pakistani one, sometimes with a Louisiana one, and sometimes with a German one. Really screw with their speech development. If you have done this right, by the time they are 12 they will be talking like John Voight in Anaconda.

9. Kids find farting and burping just as funny as you do. Use that fact to bond.

10. Children love to be scared. Walking up behind them and screaming “Boo!” is a joy for them. For that real hearty laughter, chop mommy up into little pieces while the child watches. See #11 and #3.

11. Lock them in a dark closet for an hour or so. Then, when you open the door to release them, shout “PEAK A BOO!”

12. If you have a little boy, dress him up like a girl. If you have a girl, dress her like a whore. Then send them off to school. This is a great way for them to meet people. (Note: works at any age).

13. Children love animals. Take them to the zoo! Children love tigers. Go teach them about tigers while visiting the zoo! Children love to learn with a hands-on approach. They love to touch and feel things. “Let” them play with the tigers. Children love to explore the curious and fascinating world of nature by themselves. While they are learning about tigers at the zoo, be learning about booze at the liquor store down the street on your way home.

14. Train them to fetch things.

15. “Babies don’t cost money, babies MAKE money! Especially those healthy white ones.” ---Strangers With Candy

16. Children love music that has an easy beat and uncomplicated lyrics. The Potty Mouth Sissies are a preschool standard.

17. All kids love Richard Nixon. Wear only your Richard Nixon mask while in the their company. Also, be naked.

18. Kids need and enjoy high protein diets. Two words: bacon grease.

19. When installing a car seat, make sure that the seat belt holding the child safety seat to the car is loose enough so that, on turns, the car seat leans a whole lot. Make a lot of turns.

20. Many children don’t like baths. They can be scary for a 3-year-old. And they can be time consuming and exasperating for the caretaker. Just stick them in the toilet and flush it a few times. Remember though to remove the child from the toilet when they look clean enough. Especially remember to do this before you have explosive diarrhea.

21. Much of children’s television programs is bland and uneducational. Make them watch Charlie Rose instead. When they cry, throw something at them. Like another child.

In case you tried to use the Spamatorium in the past week or so, we've discovered a minor bug that has since been corrected (thanks for pointing it out illussion). You may once again spam away ... I know there are several of you who haven't yet put your site in there (why does aminal keep coming up in these news items?) If you encounter any issues on the site, please let us know. Also, using asylumnation instead of asylumwhores for URLs may be helpful if you do encounter problems.

More links added today to the Leisuretime Links Library.

And trivia tonight in forum 9 at 9:00 EST!!

aminal, this would be a good time for you to get your daily 1.5 hours of sleep.

He’s sitting behind his desk, which projects out in front of him like the deck of a super carrier. Collecting papers, mounds of trivial bureaucracy, landing, refueling, than departing his desk only to land, refuel, and leave someone else’s state of the art, redwood topped, war desk.

The time is slowly ticking by, while “Boredom” sits alone in his air-conditioned office, sucking down a diet coke, flipping around between ebay and porn sites.

He’s got a degree in “communications.” Though, the only time “Boredom” ever has to communicate anything to anybody other than his twenty something secretary is at the water cooler during his five-minute breaks.

Occasionally, “Boredom” dreams of bending this twenty something secretary over his massive desk, lifting up her requisite skirt, and fucking her in the ass, listening to her scream his name while he spanks her white skin. Taking his dick out of her before he cums and shooting all over her back and hair.

Show her who’s the boss.

Show that bitch tool what a cock is for…

“Mr. ______, are you awake in there?”

(In…)

It was my secretary.

“Oh good, Mr. ______, A Mr. Boswell, the man who called yesterday… The man who spoke kinda funny, kinda raspy, is here to see you.”

God she looked sexy.

“Thank you. Send him in, Ms. ______.”

“He’ll be right with you.”

Yeah, I’ll show you what daddy’s dick is for you little schoolgirl bitch…

“Hello Mr. ______, my name is Mr. Boswell.”

He shuts the door, takes a seat in front of me. Mr. Boswell is an average looking man who is extremely well dressed, holding a suitcase, which he sets down on his lap and precedes to open. His hand disappears into the suitcase, than reappears with a tape recorder, which he sets down on the edge of my big desk. He hits record, than sits back in his chair.

From here, he looks very small.

“I will cut the pleasantry, and offer you an explanation for why I’m here. Brevity has always been an advocate of mine at meetings such as these.”

“And what sort of meeting is this?” I ask, dryly, disinterested.

He pauses. Stares directly at me for a moment, than speaks:

“It has come to my superiors attention that you’re not a very happy man Mr. _____.”

I don’t respond immediately, I just stare back at him. After a while of neither of us saying anything, I get uncomfortable. To mask my discomfort, I take a sip from my diet coke. He continues to stare at me, though, and my hands begin to shake.

I set down my diet coke. I begin to hum.

“I do hope that you’re listening Mr. ______. It would be most unfortunate for you to disregard what I’m here to say, as it is to your benefit to hear me out.”

“I’m listening, it’s just, you know… late in the day and I’m tired and, well, not disinterested, just tired and…” I blurt out.

“That’s enough of an explanation. Perhaps we should complete this later?”

“No.” I say too quickly.

He pauses.

“Than ‘now’ will be acceptable?” He queries.

I pause.

“Yes.” Uncertain.

“Excellent.”

“Yes.” Resolved.

He pauses, than speaks:

“Mr. _____, do you know who I am? Do you know whom I work for?”

“No, but… fuck. Wait. For some reason. Hold on…” I stammer. I do remember meeting him before. I remember meeting his superiors as well, although the context completely escapes me.

Much of my life before this job, after my graduation, has escaped me.

“I represent the men that had you killed, Mr. _____.”

White out.

…A face above me… Smiling… Loving me through her eyes… My beautiful mother. She sings a lullaby… So beautiful… The tune, so pure… So real…

(To fulfill…)

…I’m at a table. Candles burn atop a cake while my friends… My friends are singing to me… “Happy birthday…” My mother takes a picture… I’m smiling… I remember that picture. Smiling…

(…my social…)

…Up on a stage… My father sings Neil Young songs to a small audience… I’m listening… We’re all listening… Hearing this voice, my father, these echoes… I cry… Being so proud of my father… I cry… To be his son…

(…responsibility…)

…There is a girl. We’re in a field. Together. Laughing, playing, passionately kissing each other… I hear her say my name. So beautiful. We’re in her bedroom. We’re making love… I smell her; taste her, feel her warmth and our bodies melt together…

(…I am expected to…)

…A small bar… I’m in college… Playing music with my little jazz quartet on Friday nights… it’s my solo, and I feel something… Fall into the music, and the crowd and everyone disappears… It’s just me, singing through my guitar…

(…fade away.)

Work. Routine. Pressures from my boss pressures from my client’s pressures from my coworkers from my landlord from my parents from the government from the tax bureau from the army from my doctor from ikea from the media from the lies that I’ve lived from the people that I’ve cheated from the god that I’ve wanted from the deep insatiable me that will never be satisfied…

I’ve become a great big vacuous hole of nobody.

“Mr. _____?” It’s Mr. Boswell. I’m staring up at him from what feels to be a horizontal position. I must’ve fallen over because my coworkers are crowded around me and they seem taller than usual.

From where I am, I can see up my secretary’s skirt.

And,

I start to get a hard on.

An Asshole

Shit Stirrer

Piece of low-grade dogshit

Egocentric

These are just some of the adjectives used to describe WonderazJ Just kidding they are used by people here to impart their undying love for me. I can be all or some of the previously used adjectives but I can also be the polar opposite of all of them.

So what does that mean?
Not a damn thing.

Well anyway Phukerz.com, my site, is now live and I encourage anyone who is curious about what it offers to check it out. I’ve said it’s a melding of SP and Asylum but the more I look at it, not really. I don’t think it’s like SP at all because it’s not about porn ads, midget scat porn, one meg download times on the first page and any of the other meaningless bullshit there. Phukerz is all my idea.

Remember when I first built Asylum with Dingle? Remember when we were rebuilding Asylum and I had words with everyone about it? I think what it came down to was I wanted my idea to be “the idea” for Asylum’s makeover. Suffice it to say I lost that battle so I took it upon myself to no longer work on Asylum and develop my own ideology at a place called Phukerz. It was never about the others it was about my idea and I have since mended the loving, caring, and deeply sexual relationships with all of the current admins here at Asylum. We are actually working together to develop a “networking” relationship. If you don’t believe me check out Phukerz and you will see links to Asylum at the top and bottom.

What is Phukerz about?
What is the ideology behind it?
Is it all bullshit?

It took me a long time to come up with the ideology behind Phukerz and what I wanted it to be about. I didn’t want to copy anyone’s ideas and/or philosophies relating to their sites look and feel, their purpose and point. What I wanted and came up with is a site for people like us who share some form of twisted values inner twined with honest morality and ethics. People like us do have strong opinions, as posted daily in the forum here, and why not come together and facilitate a way to change things and make statements political or non-political, at least have a forum or central meeting point for these tasks?

Phukerz isn’t pure ideology or anti-everything.
What it personifies is entertainment mixed with social consciousness on many levels. Sometimes the purpose will be vague and sometimes there will be no purpose…only entertainment value. The best analogy I can come up with is the Fight Club mentality. People from all walks of life who are sick of the status quo coming together to make statements in the real world or this one. By making yourself heard and enjoying doing it you, in no way, are excused from visiting Phukerz for its entertainment value.

You only have one life
So fuck it
Live it
Love it
Until your shitting yourself and covered in wrinkles harking back to the days when you could have made a statement and, maybe, changed things no matter what scale they were on.

I might surprise some of you by offering up a site of this nature but its time has come. It might take a month or twenty years for this site to do something, if anything, but fuck it…I’m in for the long hall. This is me putting myself out there
To be languished,
To be spat upon,
To be made an even bigger target…
Do I care?
Have I ever?
No because words don’t mean shit.
Actions own us.

With that being said you might ask yourself, “He’s full of shit and he never cared so why now?”

I do care but only about the things that matter.
I enjoy flaming and talking smack like anyone else but I also enjoy getting things accomplished and making things happen with the end result being something I can look at and say, “Awwwww Yea…..I did it!” I also can do the same with a group.

Whatever I digress and say love me hate me it doesn’t matter.
Visit Phukerz or don’t visit it doesn’t matter.
If you visit Phukerz…..
you can lurk or participate,
Be entertained or make a difference in some way, shape, or form.

All I’m saying is the place is up and if you do visit be sure to read the first post because if you don’t then you will be confused like Paint and Wonder have been. I put up the ideology with the forum, a few links and site areas but most links will not be live until later this week, hopefully Friday or Saturday. If you go have fun and try to participate.
Anti

At long last we are starting up the long promised game room.

As you remember, we ran a poll to see what you all wanted and you told us.

In keeping with our desire to accomodate your every wish, and after much careful deliberation, we decided to go with something that we didn't even offer you!! Ain't we peachy?

Our first offering to you is...

~~~~ QUAKE III ~~~~

We all owe major thanks to AMINAL for this. We have been having difficulty working out server issues on the game room and he stepped up to the plate and made this all happen. This wasn't just him making a few clicks either, he put a lot of effort into setting this up for Asylum.

aminal, we thank you very much for doing this. Check with Joey for a loner for the weekend.

Check out the rest of the details here.

* urbanjunkie walks into the suppository *

* he is followed by mr. joe public *

URBANJUNKIE: Do you actually want to listen to what I have to say?

JOE PUBLIC: Yes, I do. I want to hear your reasoning behind drug taking. You claim to be a supporter of the drug culture that surrounds the clubbing scene. I personally think it’s sad and pathetic that people like you seem to require drugs in order to enjoy yourselves. So go ahead, I'm listening. Tell me why taking an E is so damn important...

URBANJUNKIE: You find it sad and pathetic? Why?

JOE PUBLIC: Why not just enjoy the night the way it is naturally? Soak up the atmosphere and enjoy the music as yourself, without alien chemicals running through your body.

URBANJUNKIE: So you would prefer a club full of people tanked up on alcohol, when we all know that drinking will make you more aggressive. You'd prefer a club full of nutters, fighting in the terraces as opposed to people on E's smiling and being overwhelmingly happy?

JOE PUBLIC: Next you’re going to say without popping a pill there’s no chance of becoming one with the music. Well? If you don’t take drugs you won’t enjoy yourself as much. That’s what you lot preach isn’t it? Well it’s bollocks. It’s part of drug culture mythology.

URBANJUNKIE: Can I ask you a question?

JOE PUBLIC: Go on.

URBANJUNKIE: Have you ever taken an E?

JOE PUBLIC: No.

URBANJUNKIE: Then you do not have a single motherfucking right to comment on the subject.

JOE PUBLIC: Oh please. Go on then, druggie...educate me.

URBANJUNKIE: That would be impossible, but I'll give it a go. You see, your attitude is typical bullshit banter that gets thrown around by morons like you all the time. People like you who have never tried drugs are in no position to comment. If you hate people pushing drugs onto you, that’s fair enough. But it works both ways. Understand that the people who do the drugs can’t stand someone like you turning to them with your "I'm obviously smarter than you attitude." You see no point in doing them; that’s your opinion.

I respect that a lot of people have no interest in ecstasy or speed but they don’t comment on things they don’t know about. Because they have no experience of the other side of the coin. Learn from them. The complaint that clubbers have a bad reputation for doing these drugs has been earned. A high percentage of clubbers regularly use them with more and more trying all the time. Most people in clubs after 2 a.m. are on some kind of stimulant depending, of course, on the club and area.

JOE PUBLIC: Great. Clubs full of people with no control over their actions. Thank you very much, but I prefer to be in full control of my actions.

URBANJUNKIE: What, when you’re tanked up on ten pints? The ecstasy boom completely rejuvenated the clubbing scene. It’s euphoric. People become one on the dance floor or in a field. Everyone loves everyone. There’s a complete overwhelming sense of unity with the people around you and with the music. As to your comment about being in control, anyone who does ecstasy or speed regularly knows that you are always in control, you know exactly what you are doing, and you regain the ability to bring yourself down enough to deal with any serious situation. Drugs will always be around, so get used to it.

JOE PUBLIC: I don’t know about that. Always in control?

URBANJUNKIE: Okay, so maybe dosage matters.

JOE PUBLIC: If taking drugs were safe, it would be legal. Its not legal, therefore it’s not safe. I won’t be seduced into taking anything just because you romanticise it. You make the whole experience sound like coming face to face with God.

URBANJUNKIE: No one is forcing you to pop pills. But don’t make assumptions against something that you would need to experience first before being able to criticise. And don’t force your opinions on others. And yes, it can be like coming face to face with God.

JOE PUBLIC: So being stoned out of your head makes you appreciate the music more? That it takes a pill to actually appreciate the sounds around you?

URBANJUNKIE: Ecstasy has its effect flooding the brain with serotonin and dopamine, so music can sound better on it.

JOE PUBLIC: I'll take your word for it. But I’ve heard that taking MDMA too often will start to put holes in your head.

URBANJUNKIE: MDMA works very well the first few times you try it. But I agree that too much could harm you.

JOE PUBLIC: So you admit, it’s dangerous.

URBANJUNKIE: Like everything in life, take in moderation. And if you’re not sure, don’t take at all. Someone once compared MDMA to a glimpse of enlightenment. And that’s what the dance scene is. A place where people go to take drugs. But that doesn’t mean everyone, and it still doesn’t mean people who aren’t on it will have a lesser time enjoying themselves. But even having said that, it’s still not comparable to being on it. It’s in the eye of the beholder. All people are different.

It’s as simple as this:

People should be free to explore the realms of their own consciousness as long as it doesn’t impinge on the freedom of others.

Ecstasy isn’t just taken for music; it’s also a euphoric feel-good drug. People only want to be happy and that will only add to the vibe in most cases. But there are exceptions. Where the person in their normal state is a wanker but turns good on a superman pill, it does intensify emotion so sometimes a wanker remains a wanker.

JOE PUBLIC: I still don’t see the point. It would appear people, like you, need help with having a good time.

URBANJUNKIE: It’s not about having a good time. It’s about enhancement. I will never be able to help you fully understand the feelings that you experience while under the influence of an E, but I would never tell you to go try one out. That would be as bad as you telling a user to give it up. It’s a personal thing.

Mr X was clubbing for 8 months before he decided he would try it out. There was no pressure from anyone at the time and it was his own decision. He’s glad he did it. Like me.

JOE PUBLIC: The way you talk you would think taking drugs is a must. That ecstasy is perfection.

URBANJUNKIE: Ecstasy is aptly named. Like I said, I can have a good time without it, but on it, it just elevates me to another plane.

JOE PUBLIC: That good, hey?

URBANJUNKIE: The sarcasm in your voice is easily detected. You should learn to be more deadpan.

JOE PUBLIC: So you do believe it’s perfection then?

URBANJUNKIE: Was once. The drug has mutated and the quality has fallen over the last few years. If you speak to a seasoned veteran, he or she will tell you that. For the kids today it’s not really the same, but they don’t realise it. It’s not exactly the summer of love anymore.

JOE PUBLIC: I still have no intention of indulging with ecstasy. I agree that compared to the effects of alcohol, it has advantages over the atmosphere that a club has. I just feel that people shouldn’t have to create an illusion for themselves when it comes to music and clubbing. But I know what you're gonna say. I need to take it to understand why others do. It’s just that I never will. I get high naturally. I get high on the music and the sounds and just feeling good about myself. I’ll be cheating if I use a stimulant.

URBANJUNKIE: It’s your prerogative. But if you fail to see why I take it, I fail to see the logic in your argument for not taking it. You just admitted that it has an advantage over alcohol. And compare alcohol-related deaths to ecstasy-related deaths.

JOE PUBLIC: Okay, that’s a different argument altogether. I just think that why take drugs when the atmosphere in a club can already appear to be euphoric to you in the first place?

URBANJUNKIE: It's like what salt does to your food...the food might taste fine without it, but add a little salt and it tastes better

JOE PUBLIC: Now that depends whether you like salt or not...

* door opens, both men walk out of suppository, agreeing to disagree *

--------------------

Ecstasy: Some history and background information.

It was developed in 1912 by the Germans as a slimming pill. When you take ecstasy/MDMA it travels in your blood stream to your brain; the action in your brain is to release serotonin and dopamine. These are called neurotransmitters because they control the messages transmitted between neurons (brain cells).

In normal life these neurotransmitters alter mood to suit our particular situation, e.g., the neurotransmitter adrenaline is released to create the mood of excitement in situations where we need to be alert. Similarly, serotonin is released naturally to create the mood for situations such as being in love, and dopamine is released to suppress pain in situations where we are hurt but have to carry on, like in sport.

The effect of MDMA is to force our brain to change mood by allowing messages to flow that would normally be blocked:

Its like if you imagine a dripping tap to be how the serotonin is deployed in normal day to day life...when you take MDMA it’s like turning the tap on full and thus intensifying all your senses.

The combination of the drug with music and dancing can produce a trancelike state, similar to a tribal ceremony; it allows the music and movements to blend and produces a feeling of group celebration (nobody knows how the drug achieves this, as no other similar drug can).

So you can imagine a club full of people that have no fear, decreased aggression, no paranoia and just a feeling of love and the need to move with the music. The emotions experienced are truly amazing, you feel like you’re “one with the music” and the crowd. Nothing else matters apart from the music and the moment. MDMA is said to have stopped all the trouble in the terraces in the late 80s and 90s. Even soccer fans were meeting in dance clubs and, because of the effects of the drugs, instead of fighting started talking and later, hugging each other. The experience is different when taken quietly with friends; it’s not as intense.

Even so, there is a danger. The long-term side effects are yet to be established.

For more information: http://ecstasy.org/