---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- The True Story of the InterNet Part III InfoWar Final Frontier of the Digital Revolution Behind the ElectroMagnetic Curtain by TruthMonger <tm@dev.null> Copyright 1997 Pearl Publishing ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- InfoWar Table of Contents * Epilogue * TruthMonger#1 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Epilogue ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Subject: Infowar circa 1850 From: nobody@neva.org (Neva Remailer) To: cypherpunks@Algebra.COM -----BEGIN PGP SIGNED MESSAGE----- "Blood Meridian: Or the Evening Redness in the West" by Cormac McCarthy The Reverend Green had been playing to a full house daily as long as the rain had been falling and the rain had been falling for two weeks. When the kid ducked into the ratty canvas tent there was standing room along the walls, a place or two, and such a heady reek of the wet and bathless that they themselves would sally forth into the downpour now and again for fresh air before the rain drove them in again. He stood with others of his kind along the back wall. The only thing that might have distinguished him in that crowd was that he was not armed. Neighbors, said the reverend, he couldnt stay out of these here hell, hell, hellholes right here in Nacogdoches. I said to him, said: You goin to take the son of God in there with ye? And he said: Oh no. No I aint. And I said: Dont you know that he said I will foller ye always even unto the end of the road? Well, he said, I aint askin nobody to go nowheres. And I said: Neighbor, you dont need to ask. He's a goin to be there with ye ever step of the way whether ye ask it or ye dont. I said: Neighbor, you caint get shed of him. Now. Are you going to drag him, *him*, into that hellhole yonder? You ever see such a place for rain? The kid had been watching the reverend. He turned to the man who spoke. He wore long moustaches after the fashion of teamsters and he wore a widebrim hat with a low round crown. He was slightly walleyed and he was watching the kid earnestly as if he'd know his opinion about the rain. I just got here, said the kid. Well it beats all I ever seen. The kid nodded. An enormous man dressed in an oilcloth slicker had entered the tent and removed his hat. He was bald as a stone and he had no trace of beard and he had no brows to his eyes nor lashes to them. He was close on to seven feet in height and he stood smoking a cigar even in this nomadic house of God and he seemed to have removed his hat only to chase the rain from it for now he put it on again. The reverend had stopped his sermon altogether. There was no sound in the tent. All watched the man. He adjusted the hat and then pushed his way forward as far as the crateboard pulpit where the reverend stood and there he turned to address the reverend's congregation. His face was serene and strangely childlike. His hands were small. He held them out. Ladies and gentlemen I feel it my duty to inform you that the man holding this revival is an imposter. He holds no papers of divinity from any institution recognized or improvised. He is altogether devoid of the least qualifications to the office he has usurped and has only committed to memory a few passages from the good book for the purpose of lending to his fraudulent sermons some faint flavor of the piety he despises. In truth, the gentleman standing here before you posing as a minister of the Lord is not only totally illiterate but is also wanted by the law in the states of Tennessee, Kentucky, Mississippi, and Arkansas. Oh God, cried the reverend. Lies, lies! He began reading feverishly from his opened bible. On a variety of charges the most recent of which involved a girl of eleven years - I said eleven - who had come to him in trust and whom he was surprised in the act of violating while actually clothed in the livery of his God. A moan swept through the crowd. A lady sank to her knees. This is him, cried the reverend, sobbing. This is him. The devil. Here he stands. Let's hang the turd, called an ugly thug from the gallery to the rear. Not three weeks before this he was run out of Fort Smith Arkansas for having congress with a goat. Yes lady, that is what I said. Goat. Why damn my eyes if I wont shoot the son of a bitch, said a man rising at the far side of the tent, and drawing a pistol from his boot he leveled it and fired. The young teamster instantly produced a knife from his clothing and unseamed the tent and stepped outside into the rain. The kid followed. They ducked low and ran across the mud toward the hotel. Already gunfire was general within the tent and a dozen exits had been hacked through the canvas walls and people were pouring out, women screaming, folk stumbling, folk trampled underfoot in the mud. The kid and his friend reached the hotel gallery and wiped the water from their eyes and turned to watch. As they did so the tent began to sway and buckle and like a huge and wounded medusa it slowly settled to the ground trailing tattered canvas walls and ratty guyropes over the ground. The baldheaded man was already at the bar when they entered. On the polished wood before him were two hats and a double handful of coins. He raised his glass but not to them. They stood up to the bar and ordered whiskeys and the kid laid his money down but the barman pushed it back with his thumb and nodded. These here is on the judge, he said. They drank. The teamster set his glass down and looked at the kid or he seemed to, you couldnt be sure of his gaze. The kid looked down the bar to where the judge stood. The bar was that tall not every man could even get his elbows up on it but it came just to the judge's waist and he stood with his hands placed flatwise on the wood, leaning slightly, as if about to give another address. By now men were piling through the doorway, bleeding, covered in mud, cursing. They gathered about the judge. A posse was being drawn to pursue the preacher. Judge, how did you come to have the goods on that no-account? Goods? said the judge. When was you in Fort Smith? Fort Smith? Where did you know him to know all that stuff on him? You mean the Reverend Green? Yessir. I reckon you was in Fort Smith fore ye come out here. I was never in Fort Smith in my life. Doubt that he was. They looked from one to the other. Well where was it you run up on him? I never laid eyes on the man before today. Never even heard of him. He raised his glass and drank. There was a strange silence in the room. The men looked like mud effigies. Finally someone began to laugh. Then another. Soon they were all laughing together. Someone bought the judge a drink. -----BEGIN PGP SIGNATURE----- Version: 2.6.2 iQEVAwUBNFf3Xj7jyGKQlFZpAQFAVwgAnY5GGhOnj97T7fUzmNF1fSthVoVOSLr7 8pVFBUOdTXgKGtDmlr+TqaEzkdEzxJMUE+ACA6uGb/LwmyIhxnPYwRqfhWBjOHD3 /Y1uDVan81uVAtCgIZeOxOTskoM0hE3N3qxNSiITutbM2fxZiiUH1kWTs1+JuyLp h1sfwyzV4UL4sG6fZRKdf+4Mtg7jZvOJNbjKtzp7A19zxfLuLawM6DC31OlnDduw wdSWvv3CG/rOyExeCUtD/sTunPF4a7nsRb7mZQfj564ibvhbrKFcUv/z1lo7X06I yCC4JTOshBBmkzc6PNuUGc7hRGeghoXjHw1cClGjiOlr1HDoxdVVvg== =hKGE -----END PGP SIGNATURE----- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- You are What you do When it counts - The Masao ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- TruthMonger#1 "Identity Theft Is the Sincerest Form of Flattery." I would be the last one to deny that those who have followed the Chronicles of InfoWar and/or my posts to the CypherPunks mailing list would be justified in concluding that I am a raving lunatic, suffering from some bizarre form of psychotic delusion which has yet to be properly researched, defined and categorized by medical science. However, please allow me to say a few words in my own defense, in the hope of giving you at least a modicum of insight into the method of my madness, and vice-versa. I have lived a life which many people would consider rather remarkable and, in some aspects, rather unbelievable, as well. {In reality, 'unusual' is probably a more fitting, though mundane, description.} In order to impress upon you that I am not consciously or (too) subconsciously attempting to pretentiously portray (or inwardly deem) myself as some kind of eminent, all-wise, all-seeing guru or genius at the expense of the individual uniqueness, talents and value of others, such as yourself, let me state that I truly recognize, even in my moments of cynicism, egoism, or a plethora of other human states of consciousness and being, that what I regard as the absolute wonderment of my own life is no less remarkable than that of each and every other being sharing this corporeal and metaphysical existence with me. If I were able to single handedly bring about world-peace upon the earth tomorrow, heal all of the sick and lame, and make life a proverbial bowl of cherries for all humankind, I would still regard myself as no more remarkable than any man or woman who is capable of bringing new life into this world. Anyone who has ever been present at the birth of a child is likely to understand that I am speaking of the folly of our pretensions and our posturing, in the face of the genuine mystery of creation. Having said this, let me proceed to attempt to elucidate the reasons for the sincerity I strive for in writing, no matter how 'right' or 'wrong' I may be in my beliefs, values and world-view. I was very young as a child OK, seriously The expression "been there, done that, got the T-shirt" applies to each and every one of us in our own way. My life has been a process of going everywhere, doing everything, seeing and experiencing an amazing variety of the reality-bytes that life has to offer. Many whom I have come in contact with, who have 'settled down' to live a life very similar to that of their family, friends and neighbors, find me to be an interesting fascinating 'character.' What many of them do not fully realize is that I find them to be equally fascinating. Despite the wild, far-ranging roller coaster of life I have experienced, I recognize that it is in no way more reality-encompassing than the life of someone who has borne and raised a child, or children, or who have dedicated their life to the pursuit of total understanding of minute area of the total scheme of reality. I have sometimes been involved in conversations with people who pour out their woes, their self-doubts, their regrets of 'roads not taken,' etc., and I have said, in reply, "You have raised a wonderful child. You, and everyone else who has done so deserve a Pulitzer Prize. No one on the face of the earth, however renowned, has ever done anything which is superior to what you have accomplished." Everyone has things that they have the background and ability to do and corresponding life lessons and experience that they have to share with their fellow terrestrial travelers. What I believe I have to share is the perceptive viewpoint of someone who has garnered a reasonably objective outlook on the life and society around them, as a result of having always stood slightly outside the boundaries of whatever situational reality they were interacting with at any point in time. To illustrate, allow me to point out that I have been through "The End of the World" twice, in my lifetime to date. The first time was as a baptized member of Herbert W. Armstrong's Worldwide Church of God. (I am not only Washed In The Blood Of The Lamb, but I also scrubbed behind my ears-mom would be proud of me.) One of the reasons I still regard the members of the WWCOG very highly is that during my stay in the church I suffered very little discrimination or judgment as a result of being vastly different from almost all other members of the church, in ways that would have resulted, as a member of most organizations (religious or secular), in my being the target of coercive attempts at 'changing me for the better', or [Your Example of Infringement of One's Right To Self-Determination Here]. Hard to believe that hard-core Christians could be this liberal (Example # 6): "We would rather that you didn't strip naked during church services, paint yourself blue and stand on your head while chanting 'Allah is good Allah is great. Hopefully, further Bible study will lead you to understand that these actions are not necessary for spiritual development. But, hey! We could be wrong." While you may be chuckling at my humorous representation of what I am explaining, here, let me assure you that this tongue in cheek example is no more outlandish than 'the real facts.' When "The End of the World" was announced, church members made preparations for holing up on the specified date, having a fantastic 'last meal' and preparing for a final night of fellowship during which most 'masks' would be dropped (being as how the last day before the end of all physical existence doesn't lend itself to being pretentious in the hope of receiving future benefit from misleading yourself and others). {FYI: Yes, I was tempted to make the obvious "going out with a bang <nod-nod, wink-wink>" suggestions, all in good humor, but this was one of the few times in my life that I was able to resist my basic urge to be infantile and immature.} After the WWCOG members, including myself, awoke the next morning to find that it still hurt when they pinched their arm, so this couldn't possibly be Heaven , the church went through a major shake-up, with many members becoming disillusioned and leaving for browner pastures. Most of those who remained in the church went through great mental and emotional turmoil in the process of resolving the dichotomy of remaining a member of a 'True Church' which had failed the ultimate test of 'infallibility'. Not me This is part and parcel of what I am trying to explain as an example of what I regard as an ability on my part to exercise a great deal of objectivity, even during my active participation in entering into membership in a particular or specific belief-system. I never, at any time, believed that the proverbial "End of the World" was imminent. Quite the opposite, in fact, yet I participated fully in the event. Why? When you are a member of a bowling team, you bowl ten frames because that is what you are there to do, as a member of the team. That is how those involved keep score and the agreed basis upon which they judge the results. I made no attempt to burst anyone else's bubble while preparing for an event which I was certain would not occur but, when asked by other church members, I did not attempt to obfuscate my beliefs in this regard, instead speaking honestly about my view that the person reading the road map of the future was not aware of the concept of magnetic deflection affecting the perception of True North. On the other hand, neither did I negate the possibility that I might, at the appointed time, be proven wrong, as I found myself swept up into Heaven , to be confronted by a Supreme Being who was wagging a finger at me, saying, "You are going to find your eternal stay in Heaven considerably more enjoyable if you drop the cynicism." As a result of having the objectivity which comes from being what I characterize as "an insider watching from the outside," I found that I could observe or participate in the debates between the 'True Believers' and the 'Disillusioned' and manage to separate the wheat from the chaff, chiefly because I didn't have a 'position to defend.' i.e.-I hadn't given away my bowling ball (metaphorically speaking) to charity, out of certitude that I would not be needing it the following day, so I had no need to 'place blame' on anyone for my having to buy a new bowling ball for the upcoming tournament. Although I ceased actively participating in the WWCOG shortly after The End of the World , it was a result of having already learned and experienced most of those things which I was there to apperceive. In the wake of the World inconsiderately failing to End on schedule, the titular heads of the Worldwide Church of God rechecked their figures and, sure enough, realized that they had forgotten to 'carry the three' and that it had been a mistake to use the recently legislated value of pi (3.0) in their calculations. I found this to be very disturbing. I personally had absolutely no problem with the World failing to End as predicted, nor with those who had mistakenly (as it turned out) made the prediction. My beliefs and core values were neither strengthened nor weakened by the details of the event-I am proud to say that I felt no need to paint myself 'green' instead of 'blue' thereafter, in an attempt to rebuild a non-existent ivory tower of religious/spiritual belief. Had those involved not busied themselves with attempting to pretend that they were still infallible, but bad at math, my sojourn in the Worldwide Church of God would have undoubtedly lasted a little longer. As it was, I felt that there were more precipitous routes to additional knowledge and learning, since advancement of corporal and ethereal cognitive capabilities had been put on hold in the church in the interests of regeneration of structures which were not truly necessary to the objectives of religious spirituality. To tell the truth, I find it rather ironic that intelligent, spiritually oriented individuals who recognize the foolishness of worshipping golden calves often fail to recognize that the 'semi-worshipping' of 'wooden' calves may be a step forward, but is equally foolish, nonetheless. My participation in the second (non-annual) "End of the World" was as a member of the Institute of Applied Metaphysics. The event/process was very similar in concept to the WWCOG "End of the World" , with only the circumstantial details being significantly different. i.e. - As a member of IAM, I stripped naked, painted my self purple, and stood on my head during the meetings, conferences and classes. Once again, those involved in "The End of the World" awoke the next morning to find that it still hurt when they pinched their arm (or when I pinched their butt). Again, there was a certain amount of disillusionment in the wake of continued corporeal existence, but less so than in the WWCOG, since there was less of a structured, ritual schematization involved. i.e. - more people wearing jeans, fewer people wearing suits and ties I eventually moved on to a divergent path in my quest toward finding new and better ways to investigate the underlying unity within the boundaries of diversity, once again taking along the lessons and experiences I had garnered during my hiatus from constant motion (as opposed to fleeing from the abomination of human fallibility). The wake of this second failure of the World to End according to schedule was of lesser amplitude than the previous one I had participated in, rocking the boat of established position/beliefs less than before. I attribute this to the fact that the response of the titular heads of the Institute of Applied Metaphysics was not to 'deny' that there had been no failure, only a slight miscalculation (PolitiSpeak), but was, instead, to 'reveal' to the participants that the world had, in fact, come to an end, exactly as predicted. The 'loophole' that validated this Nostradamian spin-doctoring was that the precise wording of the original prediction was "the world AS WE KNOW IT will come to an end." {Petty and cynical way to have fun with 'voices pontificating in the wilderness' when they are so foolish as to give a date and time to their "End of the World" prediction: Ask them if the time quoted is Eastern Time, Pacific Time, or Greenwich Mean Time. NostraCanadaIsis: "The 'End of the World' will be at 9:00 p.m. (9:30 p.m. in Newfoundland). Definition: Spin Doctoring - You are standing naked in the gas chamber with a thousand of your fellow ethnic outlaws when the voice of Herr Himmler blares out from the speakers, "I have decided to spare your lives." The loud cheers of yourself and your grateful ethnological comrades are cut short by the sound of a deadly gas being released from the ceiling vents. A different voice comes over the speaker, saying, "What Herr Himmler meant to say, was " Sick humor? Moi ? The two examples above involve group participation events which are synchronous with individual examples of 'what I do.' Everyone has things which they 'do'. What I am speaking of here is something which I believe most people inherently understand, but which is difficult to put into words. i.e. - I can only describe my understanding of the concept I am expressing, in the hope that you can compare and interpret what I say in the light of your own knowledge and experience, be it a translation of what I say into a mathematical equation, an emotional feeling, a graphical representation, or whatever What some people do is to live a life of optimism which drives cynical people crazy, particularly in light of the fact that the history of events in the optimist's life confirms that his or her world-view is valid. What other people do is live a life of cynicism which drives optimists crazy, in light of the fact that the cynic's observations and logic are irrefutable, thus forcing the optimist to face the fact that life is not a bowl of cherries for those whose destiny is not to reflect the benefits of the power of positive thinking but, rather, the reality that life is a crap shoot. i.e. <squared> - Some people always find a parking space exactly where they need one, and other people never find a parking space in the needed spot. The "End of the World" is something that I do. 'Participate in' might equally describe what I refer to as 'something I do', if viewed from the perspective of the interplay between myself and others. To explain, on a one-on-one level of individuality, what I am speaking of, I should explain that, on occasion, people I know, vaguely know, or don't know from Adam, will show up on my doorstep, and spend time with me. A total stranger sometimes shows up on my doorstep and, without a word of explanation, spends several days helping me install a new carpet, trim my hedges, or whatever I happen to be involved in at the time. All without saying a word before departing at some point, never to cross my path again before making their exit from this mortal plane. Or, they may show up and sit in my living room for an hour, a day, a week, and tell me their life story. "I was very young, as a child then, this morning " Once again, after they have done whatever it is they needed to do, they depart. The common link between the people who enter my life to perform variations upon the above themes, before moving on, is that they die a short time later. What is the 'explanation of'/'reason for' the process I have just described? I have some opinions and/or theories in this regard, but the bottom line is that it does not matter in the least whether I am correct or incorrect in this regard. The bottom line is that it is something that I do/'participate in' and experience has taught me that if I try to interpret the 'true meaning and purpose' of these events, thereby convincing myself that I have some imagined 'cause of action' by which I can control/influence the 'outcome' of the event in a 'proper' manner, everything goes to hell and takes longer than it would have if I had resisted the impulse to control/interfere. At this point, I would like to point out that many people might regard the preceding as what Tim May refers to as 'magical thinking' and that they would, in a certain sense, be right. Tim May has, in more than a few missives, indicated his disapproval of those who engage in the 'airy-fairy' process of 'magical thinking,' in contradiction to the known physical laws of reality. I have long regarded Tim May as the original Philosopher King of the CypherPunks mailing list, and I give considerable weight to his missives, knowing that they are, for the most part, composed in a process which involves careful thought and analysis of the issues or technicalities of whatever topic that his missive is addressing. If my first reading of his post to the CypherPunks list seems to indicate that he is simply 'on the rag' and 'blowing smoke,' then I read the post again to see if I am correct in the assumption that he is having a 'bad hair day,' or if I have my head up my butt and I am failing to understand what Tim is attempting to communicate. Tim May sometimes comes off, in the context of the not-totally-encompassing-media of InterNet communication, as a bit of a Redneck/Ugly-American/Materialistically-Grounded/Fuck-the-Hippie-Crystal-Worshipers kind of guy. i.e. - Nuke Magical Thinkers However, I think he would be surprised, given my above claims, to find that I agree with him, for the most part-listen closely-within the context of his definition of 'magical thinking.' However, 'magical thinking' is something that I do, and I believe that it is valid from within the context of my definition of what the term truly comprises. i.e. - I care not in the least whether you (or I) claim that it is possible to 'psychically will' the balance of a bank account to increase by $100.00. My view is that this-or-that claim doesn't matter in the least. What matters is whether the bank account does or does not increase. What I am getting at is that, as a mathematician, the certitude of what you recognize and accept is not dependent on my mathematical ability to understand the concepts which you know and understand. My belief that 1 + 1 = 3 is not likely to cause you to come to the belief that your whole life is a lie, and that you should kill yourself. Why is this? Because mathematics is something that you do. Likewise, metaphysics is something that I do. What I implore you to understand is that I have no more personal, emotional investment in a blue aura meaning 'this' as opposed to 'that', than you, as a mathematician, have in 1 + 1 = 2, as opposed to 1 + 1 = 3. Your concern as a mathematician is that the value you recognize is valid within the boundaries of the logic system within which you are working. My concern as a metaphysician is the same. In effect, what I am saying is that people, be they friends, acquaintances or total strangers, show up on my doorstep and do whatever it is they need to do before departing and going off to reunite with the Spirit of the Cosmic Muffin, or whatever. You don't understand? Me neither Do you believe or disbelieve what I am telling you? Do you think it is a 'good' thing or a 'bad' thing, if true? Do you think it is the work of God, or the work of the Devil? Pick 'one from Column A and two from Column B', or vice-versa-it's fine by me. Regardless of your or my belief/disbelief, attitude or opinion it happens. If you feel the urge to show up on my doorstep and spend the next few decades helping to prove or disprove what I perceive as reality, feel free to do so, but I believe that there are probably much better ways to spend your time. I guess what I am haphazardly attempting to explain is my view of what objectivity truly means, insofar as I understand the concept and strive to arrive at an objective, truthful perception of existence, during my journey through 'madness cleverly disguised as sanity' (or vice-versa). Non-Taoists often perceive those who are journeying in a direction opposite to, or tangent to, their own vector of impetus as being 'in opposition to' themselves.
From a Taoist perspective, however, no one is truly 'going the wrong way.'
In effect, it is as if we live in a world where traveling both North and South are required for survival/enlightenment/whatever. Those who are dimly aware that they are traveling North after having already fulfilled the 'traveling South' part of the equation, are likely to subconsciously recognize that those traveling in the opposite direction may be doing so because have already fulfilled the 'traveling North' part of the equation. Those who have not yet traversed the opposite side of the equation are more likely to believe that those traveling in the opposite direction are 'evil incarnate', actively seeking to subvert the will of the OneWay True God who rules the 'Turn Left To Go Towards Righteousness' universe. I believe that it might help to clarify the concept I am attempting to express here if I ask you to think of examples from your own life, and from the lives of others you have observed, which might serve to illustrate people who unthinkingly shout "You are going the wrong way!" to total strangers when, in fact, they have no idea where the person they are shouting at is coming from, or going to. A parallax example would be a mature person trying to impose the logic of grownup reasoning on a teenager who is firmly ensconced in the hormonal grip of a still-growing movement toward balancing reason and emotion. The value that our experience and understanding can play in communicating with others is directly related to the degree to which we have recognized, faced and resolved those events and situations in our life that require us to strike a balance between order and chaos, individuality and communion with the 'other', stability and evolution-Yin and Yang. Obtuse Parallax Non-Involvement Participation Theory: The fact that life is a crap shoot in no way detracts from the validity of 'self-determination through the exercise of free will' playing an essential part in determining the final outcome of the unfolding of our predestination. {Pretty profound, eh? I wonder if it actually means anything } But, seriously I was very young as a child OK, I'll quit kidding around. (Honest!) Despite the extremely multitudinous verbal effusions which I often use to convey my understanding of life's realities and peculiarities, much of what my preceding voluminous asseverations are aimed toward communicating can be summed up in a two-line poem which was written by an eccentric schizoid component of my overall persona which lurks omnipresently behind the scar tissue on the periphery of my brain, as the result of a failed lobotomy attempt by a well-meaning, but misguided, member of the Manson family. "All My Lies Are True" All my lies are true And everything I do, I really am. In short (but time-and-volume expanded to give you the benefit of enlightenment through overcoming the confusion of my verbal obtuseness), there exists-in the heart of the time-space continuum that is conspiring with extemporaneous metaphysical actuality to bring us all to a sorry end-two separate and distinct enemies of the current direction and goals of our lifelong aspirations. The first enemy is whatever runs contrary to our beliefs, aims and purpose in life, and which threatens our existence/being/survival because of our failure to recognize its value in our life, due to the fact that it encompasses arenas of life which we have not yet had occasion to confront and/or experience. The second enemy is the 'friendly enemy' which represents those arenas of life which we have already traversed, and which constitute a hazard to the evolution of our consciousness only by virtue of the fact that it is always tempting to bathe in the glory of treading familiar ground, deluding ourselves that our competence in rehashing already-learned lessons in life is a sign of superiority to those poor souls we pass by as they stumble and fall in their evolutionary journey through unfamiliar territory. For those of you who have consumed less than a quart of Scotch in the last half-hour, and are thus mystified as to what I am talking about, here, I will point out that what I have just expressed might be considered to be the equivalent of those who teach second-grade math indulging themselves in the bizarre and obscene delusion that the godlike reverence which the six and seven year old children impute to them as a result of their superior understanding of the mysteries of multiplication is somehow reflective of their innate superiority to the entirety of humanity around them. Or, as a parallax example, a school yard bully who considers himself to be a 'tough guy', despite the fact that he is six-foot eight, two hundred and forty five pounds, forty three years of age, and is still in the third grade. [No, asshole, this example is not based on my own life experience.] As you may have already guessed, I have pretty much lost track of what the hell it is I had originally intended to communicate in this duplicitous soliloquy concerning the divine triad of incremental quaternion. So perhaps it is best that I toss my Thesaurus in the trash and entrust to my limited lexicon the responsibility of conveying an important, though insipid, axiom of life which should serve as an shining beacon which has the capacity to enlighten the waters beyond the rocky shores of my limited attention span, and open the door to a complete understanding of how to properly interpret and evaluate the Chronicles of InfoWar. In other words-in plain English-articulating my unknown thoughts in a manner which accurately expresses my lack of social skills and my disposition toward not really giving a fat rat's ass if my efforts at elocution are appreciated, or whether I am just pissing in the wind I am the living, breathing incarnation of the Jules Pfiefer elucidation of the "Mad Dog in possession of the last false smile." I AM the TruthMonger. If you think that my irreverence, sick humor, and my propensity toward expressing myself in a manner which will lead those reading my mad ramblings to conclude that I am an uncouth, insane asshole is an indication that I am not totally sincere in seeking to share the enlightenment that it has been my blessing to experience during the course of my life, then Fuck You! We are all born into a predestined domain wherein our role as a warrior is to fight the battles which can be waged by none other than ourselves. My predestined battle is to rail loud and long against the anal-retentive scourge of counterfeit substantiality which we and our fellow anthropological sycophants kneel in obeisance to, for lack of true belief in the primacy of our sovereign franchise which not only deems us to be the captain of our ship of life and master of our ultimate destiny, but which also demands that we recognize our divinity and our obligation to throw off the bondage of outside authority, accepting total responsibility for living our life according to the dictates of our conscience and our innate soul pattern. "To he who does what within him lies, God will not deny his grace." - Saint Thomas Aquinas "We make our Gods, do battle with them, and they bless us." - Herman Hesse "All my lies are TruthMongering." - The Last Canadian Outlaw ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- "The Xenix Chainsaw Massacre" "WebWorld & the Mythical Circle of Eunuchs" "InfoWar (Part III of 'The True Story of the InterNet') Soviet Union Sickle of Eunuchs Secret WebSite ----------------------------------------------------------------------------