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Cypherpunk Enquirer




I finally lost the tail somewhere around the docks, and slowly worked my
way into Chiba, watching my back all the way.  I dumped the chip in
the saddlebag of a bike messenger who almost ran me down in front of 
the Jarre, figured he'd get a good scare out of a midnight visit from
the NSA goons who'd been using it to follow my tracks out of Tokyo.  They 
weren't going to like the way I rearranged the facial features of their 
buddy who tried to waylay me outside of the pachinko parlor.  One last glance
behind me, and I ducked into the Chatsubo.

She was waiting for me there, a vision of pure lust in a red mini-dress with
cleavage all the way down to her waist and legs all the way down to the
floor.  I tried to stay casual as I sauntered over to the bar next to her.
"Vodka martini.  Shaken, not stirred," I said to Ratz, the regular bartender.

Ratz slammed the drink down on the counter in front of me.  "Shaken enough
for you, Dick?" he said.

"Dick.  Nice name."  She had a voice that sounded like wind blowing through
pine trees on a hot summer night.  Low.  Breathy.  Wet.

"He's being an asshole.  Dick's American slang for a PI.  Mind if I join
you?"

"Suit yourself."  I pulled up a stool, surreptitiously slipping her PGP
signature into my PDA.  It checked out.  Good.  Now if she just had the
merchandise.  I hadn't come 5,000 miles just to check out her pectoral
development.

I leaned over close, trying not to stare at that pair of 38Ds.  "You got
anything else you'd like to show me?"

Her emerald green eyes bored into mine, and then slowly dropped down to 
the level of my zipper.  She slowly slid the hem of her dress up her
creamy thigh, just high enough so that I could see that she wasn't wearing
any panties.  And there it was.  Tucked into the top of her silk stocking,
just next to the black lace garter.

"That floppy's got the source to Declan McCullagh and Ian Goldberg's crack
of the Surfwatch database.  Worth a small fortune to anyone with the cojones
to spam a sample to K12."  She licked her lips like she was getting ready
to go down on a double dip of Cherry Garcia.  "Would you like to come up
to my room and take a closer look?"

(OK, Nobody, knock it off.  You got rid of Tim May three paragraphs ago.
Let's get on with it, huh?)

(Shit, boss, just trying to have a little fun ... )



			THE CYPHERPUNK ENQUIRER

                   "Encyphering minds want to know."


Fresh on the heels of the Chicago Bull's triumph in the NBA finals, 
Michael Jordan has announced the release of his new signature Internet
encryption product, Michael Jordan's Awfully Good Snake Oil.  Based on
a tried and tested but proprietary algorithm, AGSO is guaranteed to provide
superior 40 bit encryption of all important Internet traffic.  Michael
himself personally guarantees that AGSO will integrate perfectly with
the Eudora mailer, and used no 14 year old Nicaraguan programmers like
that inferior Kathy Lee Gifford shit, and no feminine frou-frou like with
Liz Taylor's Black Perl.

Jim Bell was injured today when a mail exploder went off in his hands.
Doctors at the Bethesda Naval Hospital reported that the mail exploder had
been upgraded from critical to stable condition and was resting comfortably
in a private room.  After a visit from fellow patient Louis Freeh, the
mail exploder commented, "It's surprising how well he's learned to talk
through that proctoscope."
 
Matt Blaze has finally come clean, and agreed to provide a partial 
transcript of the NSA's famous "If you knew what we know, you'd support
key escrow" presentation, which according to Mr. Blaze starts out, "If you
knew about the video tapes we have of you with that 16 year old blonde at
the Motel Six ... "

Due to continuing controversy over the Michael Jackson case, and bowing to
extreme election year pressure from the religious right, President Clinton
today announced a new policy to prevent child abuse in the music industry.
The Rock Musicians Penis Escrow Bill would require all musicians selling
more than 10,000 CDs to file photographs of their (presumably tumescent)
genitals with the FBI so that they could be examined and identified in the
event of accusations of lascivious behavior with minors.  Leon Panetta was
reportedly flying to Chicago for discussions with the presently retired
Plaster Casters, hoping to garner their support for the bill, while the
Wall Street Journal announced an investigation into rumors that Chelsea
has a standing request with the FBI for multiple copies.  The Libertarian
Party immediately announced its whole-hearted support for the plan after
Jim Ray snuck the plank into the party platform when no one was looking.

Tim May's experimental plan to reduce the noise level on the Cypherpunk
Mailing List was declared a resounding success after massive doses of 
Ritalin actually caused Perry Metzger to apologize for flaming a clueless
AOLer.  In related news, AwakenToMe has finally figured out protected mode,
and has announced the first Pentium condom that actually fits over the
cooling fan.

Sameer Parkesh announced that c2.org is now hosting an "Unanimizer" web
browser, which makes web servers think that the entire population of the
WhoWhere search engine has just accessed their pages.

Next in the Enquirer:  Bob Dole on the dangers of the abacus virus.