[Two letters received by fax on 27 October 1998] ---------- [Letter 1, cover and 16 pages] 8 September 1998 Cover Sheet Declan The Good News is that I have a pen to write with, due to the Free Enterprise System being alive & well within the Prison System. The Bad News is that Micro$oft Pens (TM) controls 95% of the market... I am hoping you can share as much of this communique as possible with the CPUNX, since my chain is constantly getting yanked in different directions, making outside contact sporatic & unreliable. Feel free to reserve for your own use any of the enclosed information you need for your own journalistic purposes. I will try to reach you by phone (automated collect-call system requiring touch-tone on your end). Thanks for the Mags, CJ Parker ps# My prison cell mirror now reads, "Chocolate Skelter." (Brownie & Milk) ------------------------------------------------ [FLORENCE NUTLY NEWS - "I'M HERE BECAUSE I believe that the KONTROLLERS are taking actions that create obstacles to the freedom and openess of the Internet. ~Truth Glaser] Declan, Looks like you may be receiving the *only* copy of the Florence Nutly News, since I have, up until now, been writing on paper towels and medicine cups, using combinations of blood, sperm and chocolate (two of which are in short supply) for ink, and I will soon be headed to Nutly News Head (pardon the pun) Quarters in Springfield, Missouri, for Rewiring of my Brain Circuity. Although I was well-prepared for my arrest - wearing my "Linda Lou & the Drifters" T-shirt, as promised, having spent several days getting Baby Truth Mongrel settled into a [illegible --------------]: grabbing my Evidence Bag [illegible ---] two containers of medication [illegible ---] the knock on the door on the other side of town - I found myself totally unprepared for the experience of being thrown into a KafkaEsque KonsPiracy [illegible]. I will admit to having told a few whoppers in my time, mostly on fishing trips, but my arm cannot stretch far enough to describe the Immensity of The Plot (TM) to crap on every right and freedom that most Americans 'think' they have, in order to bring me - like a Chained Mad Dog - to a Governmental Pre Destined End at the hands of the American Judicial and Prison System. Although I have not yet lost my mind (I predict by Thursday at the latest), and I know that the Whole World (TM) is not *really* involved in The Plot (TM) against me, everything since my arrest has proceeded as if this were exactly the case. I shit you not... A thread on the CPUNX Distrubed Male LISP that I followed with interest had to do with the Ratio of Consciously Conspiring Cocksuckers to Robotic Moronic Techtronics in the current Death March to Analog Digital Battan. i.e. Hettinga's (?) tagline = "Do not attribute to conspiracy that which can be explained by stupidity..." (~misquote?) As my ^ Pre Destined (<- Cro-Magnon Editing)^ Imprisonment and my March Toward Justice began to unfold, I was at first struck by the banal predictability of the Dehumanizing <-> Brainwashing that takes place as the Identity and Persona of an Individual is "Committed to The Custody Of" the Kontrollers (TM). I watched as the concerns of Outsiders Becoming Insiders switched from which Telco offered the best services? -> when am I allowed to use the phone?, etc., ad infinitum, until an Inside Lifer being transferred from a different prison asked only a single question upon his arrival - a question which strikes terror into the heart and mind, (of the Outside Lifer), who know that, stripped of the Toys & Trappings (TM) that the Kontrollers "allow" them to have to distract them from the reality of their true status in life, there is really only a single question that truly matters, whether one is moving to an Insider Feeding Pen or an Outside Feeding Pen: "How is the food?" Paris or Auchwitz - Danube or Dachau, Just tell me one thing, Fritz - "How is the chow?" The KONSCIOUSLY KONSPIRING KRIMINAL element of the TREASURY Agents was just as predictable as the mechanical, fixed cogs of The System Machinery. - Charging me with a crime that would enable them to put a bug in the ear of every human element of the Judicial [illegible] System from the Judge -> the Prison Guard - "This man is using his writing and the Internet as a weapon to murder government officials and authority figures (such as yourself!)." - Telling the prison medical staff things designed to label me as a violent, psychotic [???]-freak. - Going through the motion of 'discovering' evidence that they were already full aware of as a result of previous legal and illegal surveillance & investigation. "[Illegible ------------------------------]" The previous, of course, is merely an indication that the Conscious Conspiracies of Analog Human Goals & Desire for Power/Control is present "alongside of" the "Stupidity" of a mechanized version of digitized cogs designed to automatically categorize, shape and standardize those individual Elements & Entities that the Puppet Masters place on Conveyor Belts leading to the Educational System, Employment System, Judicial System, etc. The observation, made by various of the CypherPunks on the LISP, as well as portions of Space Aliens Hide My Drugs, which dealt with the intimations of coercion and brainwashing manipulation in the treatment of Jim Bell at the hands of the Justice System, were partly conjecture due to a lack of detail on Bell's full situation & treatment. As a result of my research on the subject, my previous life experience, and my current situation, I feel semi-qualified to express the opinion that I am being subjected to CLASSIC/TEXTBOOK BRAINWASHING TECHNIQUES, combining physical deprivation and disorientation with the witholding of proper medical treatment and physical coercion to accept 'new' diagnoses and 'new' medication designed to meet the needs of the Prison & Judicial System, rather than to meet my own medical needs. e.g. - Denying me clothing, bedding, personal items, services available to other inmates, etc. offering me access to my reading glasses if I stop exhibiting symptoms of Tourette Syndrome, for which I have been diagnosed and treated by a variety of physicians and specialists for years. I will not go into the 2-3 pages of notes I have made documenting the above, since nabbed, like a whiner, and Lord Knows, I have abused myself more over the years through my own craziness and stupidity, than those fuckers could ever hope to accomplish. The point I wold like to make to the CypherPunks is that the TOTALITY of the persecution, oppression, censorship, conspiracy - or whatever you want to label it - that is being directed toward me is GREATGER THAN > the Sum of the Robotic Moronic Techtronics PLUS the Consciously Conspiring CockSuckers [This is even 'after' taking into account my spitting in a US Treasury Agent's eye and writing 'Helter Skelter' in my own blood on a prison mirror.] I find myself sitting in a prison cell in Middle America, looking at a Prison Commissary sheet which confirms my suspicion that the prison meals are designed to market a variety of condiments, such as mayo and picante sauce, to the most Captive Consumers of all. I find myself reflecting on the similarities between a friend, whose 'Health Coverage' does not seem to apply to any disease he might get, and to my own experience of having Prison Medical Personnel state, "We don't have those medications in here," and knowing, instinctively, that I am just going to have to 'choose' a disease they had medication for, or just go fuck myself. I find myself reflecting on the Techno BioSemiotic Evolution of a self-sustaining Corrections CORPORATION of America system which has Little Johnny hustling to sell more Crack, so that his Daddy can buy condiments to make his prison food more palatable, eventually getting busted and sent to prison, putting his younger brother, Raoul, in the Corrections CORPORATION food chain as a Crack salesperson & future Inmate/ Consumer. I find myself peering down a Tunnel Through Time and seeing that the "Dark Forces" spoken of in the 'The Xenix Chainsaw Massacre', in Part I of The True Story of the InterNet, were, and are, just as real as the "Dark Clouds Gathering Over Europe" during the Rise of the Third Reich - with the Dark Clouds being formed by the Industrial BioSemiotic Progeny of the Marriage of the Rumbling of the Tanks with the Shouting and Cheering of the Masses at the Nazi Rallies - and with the Dark Forces being formed by the Technological BioSemiotic Progeny of the Marriage of the Silence of the Computers with the Silence of the Lambs, as they wait quietly in line to fill out their local supermarket 'Nickle Off On A Can of Beans Discount Card,' listing their InterNet Email address so that the Kontrollers can use the new J. Edgar Digital Hoover Vacume Technology to suck the Sheeple's brains onto the Digital Cattle Cars, taking them behind the Electro Magnetic Curtain, where they can be fed a bland diet of Brain food designed to sell them condiments, such as HBO and the TIME Digital Supplement, as Prisoners of the Electronic Corrections Corporation of Planet Terra. Whoa, Trigger! Every time I get on a roll, I seem to roll a little cloer to Springfield... Anyway, for anyone interested in the status of my legal situation, I believe my status can be best described by the use of a variety of expletives which don't have a snowball's chance in Hades of making it past the Censor, but which involves bending over and touching one's ankles. The problem, of course, is that the GRAND PLAY OF JUSTICE has already been written, and there is no role available for the Defendant. The Problem (TM) is that I, unlike those who have brought the charges against me, want to take this case to trial. At my original court appearance, I elected to represent myself. The Judge took it upon herself to appoint a Public Defender to "assist" me. I immediately translated "assist" to "Sell You Down The Fucking River!" (Mentally envisioning the PD as "supporting" me by having me stand on his shouldeer as the noose was placed around my neck.) Just before my second court appearance the PD introduced himself and told me it was a pretty routine "Motion to Remove" hearing/ "Identity" hearing, and that I would then be sent to Seattle. I informed him that if they WANTED me to go to Seattle immediately, then I wanted to fight it. The PD left, and returned later with the news that the Feds had just sprung a "Complaint" on him that he was unaware of and the he would need a couple of weeks to deal with it. I had him read a short portion of the Complaint and, recognizing it as identical to a recent 'gift' I had received, I told the PD that, since the Feds now seemed to want a delay, that I was ready to proceed. In court the PD informed the Judge that *he* needed time to "study the Complaint" (run up his bill) and that *I* had trouble following his logic (wanted to proceed with what he had already told me was a routine, 'slam- dunk for the government' matter anyway). So, everyone compared their Tee Times with local golf courses and decided that I would rot in Jail for two weeks while they tired to correct their slice. Of course, the day before the two weeks is up, I receive a letter the Judge's Public Defender Bum Buddy, containing Order 98-02824M, stating that "The defense had made an oral motion..." (Funny, I thought that 'I" was the Defense) ... "for psychiatric evaluation ... asserting that the Defendant cannot communicate/particiapte..." In other words, the lawyer (whom Shakespeare would shoot first) paddled over to the Judge to have me shipped off to Dr. Frankenstein's Funny Farm, while I, upstream from Tucson (with 'no paddle') am setting and wondering how the Grand Canyon State produces so many Amateur Medical Genius' who are able to perform an in depth medical diagnosis of an individual after speaking with them for lkess than five minutes - total. [The Prison Medical Staff spending half of that time in a room full of people carrying Walkie Talkies, asking me whether or not I heard voices...] However, if your Heart of Hearts is tempted to Bleed Purple Piss for me, stuff a rag in it, because I've been telling people form the beginning that the GuberMint would be sending me off for mental ReClassfication. The Bottom Line (TM) is that the Complaint seems to amount to - once the smoke & mirrors are cleared away - one Entertainment BOT and one anonymous email 'authenticated' by what I suspect will trun out to be a a Communal 'Magic Circle' PGP digital signature. (Worst Case Scenario - I will be forced, in open court, for the first time ever, to reveal "How I Broke PGP (TM.") Seriously, though (and I've got an Ocean Front Jail Cell in Florence, AZ), I expect that the GooberMint needs me to be 'crazy' enough for my writing, facts and opinions to be dismissed, yet 'sane' enough to be criminally liable for my actions. I am certain that the employees of "a suitable facility for psychiatric examination as designated by the Bureau of Prions" know exactly what is expected of them. BTW, the 'Dead Lucky AP-Bot' received just three votes - for Rabid Wombat, Toto, and for Donald Duck (If I remember correctly). Three targets - three years in jail. Sounds fair to me... I *know* my proper role in this Dark Comedy. After a suitable period of 'Attitude Adjustment', I'm supposed to accept whatever offer of 'leniency' the Feds feel generous enough to offer me. The problem, of course, is that not only am I a spritual Channeler of the BIG FUCK YOU!, but I am also cursed with an affliction, Tourette Syndrome, which often causes me to implusively blurt out...The TRUTH (TM). The PROBLEM (TM) is that I am a CypherPunk, and I would rather spend 3 years sitting naked in a cold, hard prison cell, than to help bring the world one step closer to where there aren't any CypherPunks to piss all over themselves and each other - and even on self-righteous, high-minded government officials, from time to time. The REAL PROBLEM (TM) is that, ultimately, I am still naive and/or hopeful enough to believe that there still exist, [illegible ------------] for an ordinary citizen to slip through the cracks in a Statist/Robotic Judicial System into a Time/Space Continuum where Jimmy Stewart wouldn't be disbarred for being 'too [illegible].' I have no doubt that the IRS/Government can, as has been intimated, "put the hammer down" on myself, my family and my friends if they choose to do so. My only response to this is that, if this is so and if there is no true recourse available for the common citizen, then the difference between living in an Inside prison versus an Outside prison is mostly Illusory anyway. My poor Sainted Father, who would have been justified in strangling me in my crib, had he realized the grief I would cause him over the years, wrote to me in prison expressing his worry that perhaps my present situation was the result of him having failed me in so many ways over the course of the last few years. I replied that my Father *was* responsible for my current situation, as a result of being the World's Most Wonderful Father (TM) and making it possible for me to spend the last few years doing exactly what I really and truly wanted to do. After my next court appearance, I may be mentally & financially broken, slobbering and drooling on myself, but I *will* be smiling... The Bible taught me what to expect as a result of telling The Truth (TM), and a short story, "[???} By Niggel," taught me what to expect as a result of being the Author... But I'm the TruthMonger, so it's the only dance there is... (Bop Shoo Bop, Bopper-Bopper-Shoo-Bop). ToTo CYPHERPUNKS CULT OF ONE "Close Ranks! Every WoMan for HimOrHer Self!" ARMY OF DOG "ANARCHY - Together We Can Make It Happen!" CIRCLE OF EUNUCHS "He Who Shits On The Road Will Meet Flies Upon His Return" [End Letter 1] ---------- [Cover note Letter 2; no date] Declan, ToTo -> -> Funny Farm Yours is only address handy Please fwd -> LJ Dowling -> Judge Fiora -> CPUNX List Thanx Toto ---------------------------------------------------------- Letter 2 is four mostly illegible pages of what appears to be scatalogical humor addressed to the Arizona magistrate, Nancy Fiora, beginning: Yo Nancy! Are you Just As Ignorant As Snot (TM), a Callous Cunt (TM) or a Konciously Konspiring Kocksucker (TM)? If you are Just As Ignorant As Snot (TM), that might explain why you actually went through the motions of giving an order for me to receive proper medical treatment not understanding that Order From A Skirt (TM) in Arizona apparently doesn't mean Jack Shit to prison officials. If this is the case, could you please arrange for a Male Judge to issue the same orders and see if that clears up the problem? Then 4 pages of illegible text with a few bits readable on withheld medical treatment leading to the risk of ingrown toenails, Big Hairy Butt (TM), and Fresh

From The ClueServer (TM) advice, with this closing:

(You'll have to figure this part out without the pictures to help this time - moving your lips while you read might help...) I write this under the influence of the Drugs given to me by the physicians in whose care you have placed me. Some Fucking Improvement (TM), eh? On our next date (in court), you might want to choose a wash & wear Robe, since I could be drooling & slobbering a lot. Loves and Kisses [???] Psychotic Killer To Be Named Later. [End Letter 2]