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InfoWar 29 / (Part III of 'The True Story of the InterNet')



Title: The True Story of the Internet Part II


The True Story of the InterNet
Part III

InfoWar

Final Frontier of the Digital Revolution

Behind the ElectroMagnetic Curtain

by TruthMonger <[email protected]>

Copyright 1997 Pearl Publishing



InfoWar Table of Contents

Death & Texas

"I see that our link to the past…" Jonathan paused to remember what the hell the man was calling himself, lately, "…The Same Guy, that's it…"

What had he been about to say?
Jonathan shook his head to clear away the fog that invariably resulted from use of the Trei Transponder to make contact with…The Same Guy.

"He fucked up the 'Death and Taxes' chapter title." Alexis helped Jonathan regain his train of thought.

"Oh, yes, thank you." Jonathan sighed, and continued.
"Well, if he fails to pick up the reminder from the LMBoyd sampler, then there's no telling what the next chapter will be about, since he'll be away from the 'Home' for the weekend."

Priscilla added, "Perhaps we would have been better off to let him usurp the TruthMonger multi-user personality, since he seems to have become a one-man multi-user personality, all on his own."

Bubba Rom Dos laughed, and reminded the others of one of his self-coined 'old-sayings':
"When you talk to yourself, that's normal. When you answer yourself, that's a little weird, but nothing to seriously worry about. However, when you say, 'Huh?'…you're in big, big trouble."


Subject: Sampler: October 3
Date: Fri, 3 Oct 1997 00:15:01 -0700
From: [email protected]

======================================================

Clients write:

"What I think of when somebody says 'death and taxes' is death only collects once."...
"What gets me is this is supposed to be National Apathy Week, and nobody cares."...
"What I can't figure out is how hailstones were described before golf balls were invented."

==============================================
LMBoyd Web Site / U. S. Newspapers / Start Email / Stop Email
http://www.LMBoyd.com/postscript.htm


"Taxes!" The Same Guy exclaimed. "Damn! Taxes…"

The Same Guy looked at the chapter of 'InfoWar' that he had been working on for the last week. Now it made sense why he couldn't quite get it all to quite come together.
Still, 'Death and Texas' had been a pretty good guess, since it did tie in with some of the main players in the worldwide conspiracy destined to come to fruition at the turn of the millennium.

Someone had gotten to Paula Jones' attorneys and forced them to bow out of her sexual harassment suit against President Clinton, so that the Puppet Masters behind the scenes could bring in a heavy-hitter from Texas, and fund the attack on the President through the spook-connected Rutherford Institute in Charlottesville, Va.

"Donavan Campbell!" The Same Guy slapped his forehead.

Now the obviously 'wrong' reference in chapter 26, "Everything You Know Is Wrong," made sense.

"One of the reasons the Author attributed to his becoming a computer guru in an amazingly short period of time, was his entry into the computer arena as the apprentice of Bill Campbell, one of the designers of the Adam motherboards, and the Authors work with retarded children early in life."

The man referred to in this passage was the owner of CCPPR Computers, Inc., in Tucson, Arizona. But his name was Bill Williams, not Campbell.
The Same Guy had known that whoever had changed the name in the manuscript while it was in route to the CypherPunks mailing list was sending a message to someone that everything they knew about something was wrong, and that it involved someone named Campbell, from Texas, where the Author had worked with a number of retarded children. The references to the Feminazis was another reference to the use of Paula Jones for the attack on the Presidency, but what about the reference to George Carlin?
The Same Guy had done a quick Web search for Paula Jones and George Carlin using fuzzy pattern-matching, and came up with the email from CNN's 'Carin' Dessauer announcing Paula Jones' switch of attorneys.

"Yes, the one-two punch!" The Same Guy had leapt from his chair and given himself a high-five, causing Baby to look up at him as if she was glad she was a dog, and therefore in no way related to these crazy humans.

Suddenly, everything was coming full circle…"Full Magic Circle!" The Same Guy joked to himself, laughing uproariously, and causing Baby to get up and go into the next room to lay down, lest someone come along and think that she was associated with this lunatic. Men…

"Sure, pretend you don't know me!" The Same Guy hollered after Baby, knowing what she was doing.
"Just wait until people around the world are applauding my genius and giving me the 'Key to the City' for my prophetic foresight. Then you'll be sorry you're not there to accept the 'Doggie Bone to the City' for standing by my side, as my faithful companion."

Baby just looked at him from her new spot on the Lazy Boy in the front room, and put her head down to sleep, not seeming particularly impressed.

"Awe-Stun Taxes." That's what the T-shirts said.

The name of the man who engaged the Author to promote the T-shirts for him was C. Crockett Flintstone. Crockett was not only person responsible for introducing the Author to Sam Houston Johnson, and politics, Texas style, but he was also the reason for the Author's fortuitous encounter with gomez@basisinc, and his subsequent journey into the bowels of the UNIX operating system.

And, of course, there was the ugly scene at Don Politico's bar in Austin, when the Author had introduced the prototype of a bumper-sticker he had come up with, to sell in Dallas. It said, "Honk if you killed Kennedy."

That was a long, long time ago, but the tangled, twisted trail which had led The Same Guy to this point in time still revolved around Death and Taxes, Death in Texas, and now…the Death of Taxes.

But The Same Guy didn't want to write about Death, Taxes, Texas, or any of that depressing stuff. He was tired of dealing with the Dark Side of the conspiracy. He wanted to think about the positive things that could be done to counter the Dark Terror that was about to descend upon the world, once again. Stuff like nuking DC.

Well, OK, maybe that was a bad example.


2000

"Looks like he's done fucking up the chapter." Alexis smiled at Jonathan, as she put her arms around him and gave him a peck on the cheek.
"Now it's your turn."

"Bubba! Cowboy! Grab the liquor and get your asses out here, we've got work to do." Jonathan shouted to the two men who were laying in their cots, trying to recover from the exceedingly long hours they had put in the day and night before.

"The year 2000." Bubba shouted to Jonathan, dragging himself out of bed. The Cowboy was rising equally slowly, beside him.

"Already got it." Jonathan pointed to the chapter title that lay waiting for a reason to exist. He took the bottle from Bubba's hand as the old coot eased himself into a chair, and poured three shots of bourbon while they waited for the Cowboy to join them.

Jonathan glanced at Alexis, holding a fourth shotglass in his hand.

"No, I have other things to do, unless you need a woman's presence so that you guys can keep it in your pants long enough to complete the chapter without jumping up and down and screaming, 'Nuke DC! Kill! Kill! Kill! Nuke DC!'."

The Cowboy gave Alexis a peck on the cheek as he passed by, assuring her, "Run along dear, we have everything under control. As a matter of fact, we think that after we finish prophesying the past…our past-the CypherPunks' future…then we will leave it up to the kindlier, gentler CypherPunks, such as Attila T. Hun, to help light the way for the CypherPunks and the Circle of Eunuchs to forge a new distant past for ourselves, and a new future for themselves."
The Cowboy paused, to think about what he had just said, and added, "It's hard to believe I haven't even had my morning 'hair of the dog' and I'm already on a roll."

Alexis shook her head and said, "Count me out. Just add a disclaimer at the end of the chapter which involves the womenfolk from any responsibility for stirring up the likes of Attila T. Hun and Conan the Destroyer, or whoever you plan to incite to join in your madness."

"Actually, I think that it is we who are joining in theirs." Bubba said, sorting through some recent posts to the CypherPunks list.
He turned to Jonathan and the Cowboy, as Alexis joined Priscilla in making some adjustments to the Trei Transponder.

"Shall we sugar-coat it, or tell it like it is?" Bubba asked his companions.

"The less time we take in the telling, the more time we have for drinking." the Cowboy turned to Jonathan for his opinion.

"I defer to the wisdom of my elders." Jonathan smiled, pushing his shotglass forward for a refill.

"OK!" Bubba exclaimed. "Quick and dirty."

"2000. The end."

"Uuhhh, Bubba…" the Cowboy said, "…you wouldn't mind terribly, would you, if I filled in a few details before we close out the chapter and open another bottle?"

Bubba waved for the Cowboy to proceed, pouring himself another shot.

The Cowboy decided to lay out the basics and let those actually living in the era confirm the details of the flow of InformEnergy that lay in their future if they failed to take steps to counterbalance the attempts of the Dark Allies to force the past, present and future into a narrow mold corresponding to the desires of the Evil One.

Now playing at a Whitehouse near you-the one, two punch.
Clinton and Gore are destined to be run out of town on a train, similar to the Nixon and Agnew railroading. The players behind the scenes laid the groundwork for setting them up like bowling pins, only to be knocked down once they had served the purpose of smiling benignly as the shakers and movers drove the final nail in the coffin of democracy by getting the line-item veto passed.

Once this was done, most of the substructure was then in place for bringing in the new millennium with a New World Order, compliments of Josef Goebbels, George Bush, and a Dictator To Be Named Later (Monty Cantsin?).
There were already non-elected Committees and Commissions in place that had the power to arbitrarily enact the draconian measures that had been pre-approved in order to deal with the National Security Emergencies that were already on the drawing boards, waiting only for all of the pieces to fall in place.

The last decade of the millennium was mostly used for fine-tuning all of the parts of the maleficent machines that had been created and developed for the purpose of providing the physical tools necessary for instituting a worldwide dictatorship of the Evil One across the face of the earth.

The mass media had been co-opted and brought under control, now being basically a press-release arm of the government and corporations, through the influence of powerful figures who pulled their strings from the shadows above them.
Once the control of the media had been confirmed during Desert Storm, the process of consolidating that control proceeded rapidly. The government had given those on the growing InterNet a fairly free rein, in order to let them remain a large enough threat to the established, mainstream media, that the government could seal their lips and their loyalty with a fifty billion dollar digital bandwidth giveaway that would ensure their financial stability and dominance in the technology of the future.

Little did even the press, let alone the public, know that the import of the digital bandwidth placed in the hands of the established media was much greater than it appeared on the surface. The government already had the technology in place to turn the digital airwaves into the InterNet technology of the future.
By the time that the new technologies developed in the government's underground laboratories around the world were revealed to the public as 'new' breakthroughs, they had invariably already been in use for years by the secret government's agents.
(Like the radar that can see through walls, being 'announced' as a new technology developed at Lawrence Livermore Labs. CypherPunk Kent Crispin had known about its existence for years, having used it extensively himself-not that he didn't trust his wife...)

The World Wide Web was completely under control of the military, having been carefully woven under the watchful eyes of DARPA, who preferred to centralize development of the WWW under CERN, in Europe, in order to get around sticky US laws regarding privacy and freedom. They could move pawns, shills and agents, such as Tim Berners-Lee, Ben Segal, and Phillip Hallam-Baker back and forth between CERN, MIT, and other openly clandestine institutions which served to host the distributed network of quasi-military secret agents supporting the grand designs of Gomez and the Dark Allies.
The world at large would little notice that the development of the technology behind the Digital Revolution lie in the same hands as the development of the atomic bomb and nuclear energy. The military, high-security scientists, secret committees and clandestine intelligence organizations-with a background of spooks, spies, and assorted secret societies and their agents, all having their strings pulled by Puppet Masters who remained unknown behind the scenes that were being played out on the stage of everyday reality.

Those who cheered the 'failure' of the Clipper Chip, the 'victory' of the Bernstein ruling, or the 'defeat' of the CDA, little realized that these were merely diversionary maneuvers for the real battles which were taking place in the background, between those who were participating in an underground war which was for 'all the marbles.'
Like the battles over the intricate details of what types of 'legal' wiretapping would or would not be 'allowed' by the laws of society, the openly fought battles over freedom and privacy were being waged only for the purposes of defining the virtual reality of a world view which was actually based on an underlying 'operating system' which was hidden from the view of the 'average user.'
While anti-trust battles were openly being waged with the likes of Microsoft and Intel, the real deals were being cut in the secret meetings between the movers and shakers who could say, "Let there be back doors:" and there would be back doors.

While Jane and Joe Normal were playing with their Graphical User Interfaces, the operating system of the underlying reality was being defined, manipulated and controlled by those in the subterranean layers of their Digital Society-by those with access to the 'Command Line.'

The 'Above-Ground Players' were working a virtual theater in which the battles they were fighting on the public stage had already been won by the Authors of the scripts, who remained in the background, already knowing how the Grand Play would come to an end, in its final scene.
Except for the 'Baker Street Irregulars'…

The CypherPunks had recognized the final challenge being thrown down by those playing on the outer stage of reality.

"The Feds have shown their hand: they want a ban on domestic cryptography"
Tim C. May's weather-vane signature line pointed out that a new game was afoot.

What even most of the CypherPunks failed to realize, however, was the timing of the announced intention to begin enforcement of the draconian measures being proposed by Lying Fuck Louis Freeh ('eLFeLF' to his friends.)
1999…

Why 1999?

Can you say "Taxes."? Sure you can.


"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