Saturday, April 18, 1998 - 00:02:36 MET (MeatSpace Eternal Time)
Prologue 17/0 -- SPACE ALIENS HIDE MY DRUGS!!!
Yo PsychoPukes!
I am sending this alcoholonymously so that only those who are
connected to the ScotchServer will be able to transylvaniate
the chalice filled with the blood of my martyrdom and nibble
on the edge of the 'crackers' diagnosis of my body, in order
to Divine which porn-movie star I am currently channeling,
thus being able to monitor and properly categorize both the
level and quality of shit which I am about to spew forth in
yet another rambling diatribe on the various ways in which
my dichotomous insanities relate to crypto and privacy, and
are therefore relevant to the BikerSucks Distributors List.
Although I am capable of telling all manner of outrageous lies
under cover of my usurptation of the multi-user TruthMonger
persona, in my role as the pathetic, drunken ScotchMonger, I
am incapable of rising above any level beyond wallowing in
a self-pitying confession of moral failures and character
weaknesses which anyone with even a modicum of self-respect
would refrain from revealing to God, Himself, let alone to
God-and-Everybody.
The Dark Allies of the Oppresor (TM) have descended upon my
personage and taken a large byte out of my ass by wiping out
my WebSite and confiscating my computers, as well as those of
my guilty-bystander nephews.
As much as I would like to portray myself as a 'martyr for
the cause' of free speech and privacy, the whole affair pretty
much boils down to the fact that I am pretty much a mentally
deranged shit-disturber who would salute the flag and spend
my whole day singing 'God Save The Queen' if I was told that
it was illegal or socially unacceptable to do so.
Add to this the fact that I have long been involved in a variety
of illegal and illicit nefarious activities that I have little
capacity to understand, and I can pretty much be written off as
a sorry loser who pretty much deserves to be used as cannon
fodder in the war between those with connections to opposite
poles of the ClueServer.
In regard to the undeniable reality of being an ignorant schill
useful as a protective buffer between my Muppet Pastors and
Brogue Brothers willing Prawns, I can only say that I am proud
to have been able to offer my services as a loudmouth asshole
in the furtherance of a cause that it is beyond my intellectual
capacity to fully understand.
The Good News (TM) is that anyone reading this rambling, semi-
coherent missive can rest assured that the details of what I
am sharing have no need of embellishment, since I, myself, play
absolutely no part in my current role, being merely a sorry,
pathetic dupe of those whose mental faculties have not been
decimated by years of alcohol and drug abuse.
My career as an international recording artist and touring
musician was nothing more than a charade designed to disguise
my mental aberrations under the cover of an acceptable long-
haired country outlaw persona.
My career as 'The World's Foremost Computer Expert' was equally
a charade designed to disguise my technical and professional
incompetence under the cover of an image as an eccentric genius.
The foregoing being said, let me share with you a few things
which make me laugh until I pee my pants, drop my dime, and
mess my drawers.
Since the original release of 'The Xenix Chainsaw Massacre' in
1989, I have gathered a following of hackers, crackers, phreaks,
phracks, punks and mental cybermisfits that would provide a
lifetime of research for any psychologist whose goal was to
study digitally-based insanity.
Recently, those who have spent years feeding me information to
be released on an "I don't have the foggiest idea what it means"
basis, went underground, for the most part, as a result of a
variety of attacks directed toward them by those who wish to
control and manipulate each and every aspect of the Brave New
Digital World.
Nonetheless, today I got a syruptacious message from the grand
personage known only as the Evil-1, informing me that, although
the Usual Suspects involved in taking control of my InterNet
accounts have faded into the background, due to a sharp rise in
the monitoring of my account, unknown player/warriors have come
out of nowhere to throw a serious fuck into the ISP which so
high-handedly murdered my WebSite, without a single word of
explaination to myself or anyone else.
The Evil-1, sending me a private email (using the
SysAdmin account at the Well), informed me that some kind soul
has turned the programs used to surrupticiously monitor my
email communications into global programs which perform the
same tasks on the account of each and every customer of my
ISP, thus tying their tubes in a knot that cannot be undone
by anyone they have on staff, or by the professional computer
spooks that have been imported to build a coherent conspiracy
out of my mad ramblings.
As well, a dear lady friend (who has been instumental in making
the dev.null server a living reality for the better part of a
decade) informs me that a variety of hackers and crackers who
are only peripherally connected to the HyperPukes Distraught
Baleing-Twine List, seem to be involved in accessing my ISP's
computers to perform mysterious tasks that have purposes that
even she cannot divine, with the enormous amount of tools and
resources at her fingertips.
To quote her directly, "The esteemed Lost Alamo Boys and Girls
4-H(orsemen) Club is unanimous in their opinion that the highly
professional and superbly trained guerilla units of the Magic
Circle are in no way superior to the unknown entities currently
crawling out of disparate locations of the cyberwoodwork to
lend a confusing hand to a common goal which is shared by none
and championed by all."
In short, it seems be the general consensus among those who have
spent years dogging my CyberTrail as a result of my use as an
expendable schill suitable to act as a front-man/target for the
dissemination of innocuously dangerous manuscripts, that the
'creme de la creme' of ZOG's MeatSpace CyberGestapo is sucking
hind-tit to an untraceable, unorganized, Cult of One/Army of Dog
pseudo-phenomena that is very likely composed mostly of Doodze
and Doodzettes who spend more on Clearasil than the NSA and DOD
spend on computer security, combined.
Lest you, as a CypherPinko, think you can get away with dismissing
the preceding as the mad ramblings of a psychotic, drunken, mental
case under the influence of bizarre combinations of legal and
illegal drugs (which is, actually, the case), stop and think about
the things that you, yourself, have done over the course of your
career as a part-time miscreant, during which you have performed
inexplicable feats of derring-do which were far beyond your
capacity, given your technological expertise and experience, but
which were brought to successful fruitation by virtue of the
clarity of purpose and the strength of committment that you
brought to the activity.
If you have made a habit of selling yourself short for your seeming
accomplishments because you convinced yourself that you, and your
accomplishments, are 'ordinary', then you need to review your life,
your actions, and your accomplishments, while keeping a Taoist eye
open, and a Taoist ear cocked, for the subtle signs of a Magic at
work which goes beyond Mathematics and steps into the arena where
Conscious Will defines the paridigms within which Reality is
manifest according to the dictates of Dreams and Desire.
Despite my obvious dysfunctionality in a world which demands a strict
adherence to the Norm (TM), I reign supreme as a Prophet and Conspiracy
Theorist Extraordinaire.
"We make our Gods, and do battle with them...and they bless us."
~ Herman Hesse ~
Anyone who honestly researches the wildest of the claims made in
the 'True Story Of The InterNet' manuscripts will be able to prove
for themselves the reality of even the most preposterous of the
wild and weird pronouncements of collusion between a far-reaching
network of Circle of Eunuchs conspirators.
Those who check the details surrounding the warnings to Jim Bell
shortly before his persecution, the arrival of the son of gomez
on the doorstep of his mentor mere hours before gomez was cut
loose from a company he had founded a decade and a half earlier,
the synchonicitous messages from the L.M. Boyd sampler and the
A.Word.A.Day bulk emails mirroring releases of the 'True Story'
manuscripts, the coincidences of timing between major events in
the story of the Unabomber and the activities of the Author, ad
infinitum...
Those who diligently and honestly check the MeatSpace details
surrounding the space-time continuum of these events will be
left with no doubt that the true, discernable facts surrounding
the events are perfectly consistent with the claims of the
'True Story' manuscripts that there is an underground movement
in the computer industry which supports, confirms and enhances
the work of separate guerilla cells working independently, yet
within a concrete and discernable paradigm encompassing a
common goal.
The Truth, The Whole Truth, And Nothing BUT The Truth:
[Note from the Otter: I have every reason to believe that
I am currently 'marked for deletion' from the List (TM)
of those whom the DickMongers can't be bothered butt-
fucking just yet, so anyone who dares to suggest, in the
remotest corner of their mind, that I have anything to
be gained by embellishing or distorting the Truth in
regard to my most dearly held beliefs, based on my life
experiences...can go fuck themselves.
OTOH, anyone who wishes to discount what I am about to
say on the basis that I am a drunken, psychotic drug-
addict with a slim hold on Reality (TM) probably has
a case that would hold up when pleaded before a jury
of Phillip Hallam-Baker's peers.]
All of the wild and preposterous claims made in the
'True Story of the InterNet' manuscripts, in regard to
the verifiable trails of intrigue connecting the Author
with the pesonages and events of a wide variety of
deeply meaningful events in the battles between the
Forces of Light and the Forces of Darkness taking place
on the battlegrounds in Waco, Ruby Ridge, San Diego,
Sacramento, etc., etc., are Total HorseShit (TM) in
the world of MeatSpace, and Totally True (TM) in the
world of Reality (TM).
You see, Reality (TM) is nothing more nor less than
the fulfillment of the totality of our individual
thoughts, beliefs, hopes, dreams and actions. And the
Spheres of Reality encompass physical and virtual
territories ranging from the MeatSpace and MindSpace
bounded by an individual Cult of One persona, to the
time-space continuum bounded by Infinity and Eternity.
In short, when the Author's missives are supported
and confirmed by a web of totally unrelated facts and
circumstances which consistently mirror the wild and
outlandish claims being made, it is because when any
living entity in the universe takes a step in a self-
willed direction, the underlying fabric of the Tao
changes shape to bring itself into alignment with the
consciously willed goal of that entity.
The True Battle (TM) taking place within the confines
of MeatSpace Reality is the battle of conscious, self-
willed individuals writing Reality Scripts capable of
balancing and/or overcoming the Generic Reality being
written by the more numerous Sheeple following the
Scripts written by their Masters.
Women and men who consciously contribute to the daily
construction of Universal Reality influence the basic
structure of the Universe to a greater degree than
a greater number of Sheeple who are heading in a
different direction, but who scatter back and forth,
being kept only intermittently on course by the dogs
which nip at their heels.
"Let us each choose a Vision,
Let us each choose a Dream.
Let us each write a Chapter of Life,
On our own Silver Screen."
~ 'You Can't Kill A Dream, Or A Dreamer', C.J. Parker
Anyone who wishes to join Tim May in dismissing the
preceding as an example of laughable 'Magical Thinking"
having forgetten that Mr. May is simply a senile old
fart who can't even find his shoes, is free to do so.
However, no amount of skepticism and derision will
change the fact that the sincerely professed insanity
contained in the 'True Story' manuscripts lead to an
incontrivertable confirmation of their validity within
the confines of the MeatSpace time-space continuum
running parallel to their release.
Anyone who wishes to avoid facing the reality of what
is being suggested in this rambling missive by a
mentally unstable, alcoholic, drug-addicted terrorist
pedophile, in order to preserve the sanity that can
be maintained by dismissing the Truth when it leaks
from the lips of the deranged and depraved, should
avoid reading the chapters of 'Space Aliens Hide My
Drugs' which lightly tread the boundaries of
Biosemiotics.
Unfortunately, mathematics, biology, physics and
psychology are rapidly converging around a model of
the universe which suggests that each and every
entity capable of receiving, emitting, categorizing
and acting on information data and processes ranging
from the inherent structure of DNA to convoluted
discourses on Quantum Physics, is not just a
'product' of its universal environment, but also an
active 'creator' of that universal environment.
In short, though you may easily dismiss my wild
claims that the ramblings of a mad Author are actively
creating the universe which you inhabit, it is highly
unlikely that you will be able to avoid the semi-
sensible posts of Jim Choate to the list concerning
those who are defining the new frontiers of science
with provable theories every bit as nonsensical as
those of Einstien, or be able to ignore the highly
organized trails of hard facts and figures provided
by John Young's website, confirming the bizarre
reality of the Author's neurological nightmares and
Choate's cutting-edge scientific dreams being brought
to fruitation and manifested in the established
MeatSpace chronicles which Dr. Young provides for
the edification of unbelievers, during the functional
periods of lucidity he experiences in between his
mad rampages into the depths of drug-induced insanity.
In effect, those who fail to understand the true import
of the Biosemiotic basis of the conjoined evolution of
mind and matter are doomed to exit this life still
believing that they were predestined to become a
side-pocket combination shot of Universal Fats, the
prime mover of all that exists, instead of realizing
that, at any point in time, they were free to change
the nature and direction of the Game (TM) by declaring,
"Damn the CueBall, full speed ahead!"
Uuhhh...I need a drink...
