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...