From: plaz@netcom.com (Geoff Dale)
Date: Fri, 31 Dec 93 14:43:50 PST
To: cypherpunks@toad.com
Subject: FWD: L. Detweiler tortures the Satellite of Love
Message-ID: <199312312243.OAA15716@mail.netcom.com>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain


The second Detweiler forward in 24 hrs, but I just can't help it! This is
just too good!

I went back to alt.privacy to see the post forwarded earlier. I found that
Detweiler had posted five or six messages in a row, in reply to my kiss-off
message.

But I also found this gem:
--Begin Forwarded Post--
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Xref: netcom.com talk.politics.crypto:1835 alt.privacy:10671 alt.tv.mst3k:18867
Path: netcom.com!csus.edu!decwrl!nic.hookup.net!europa.eng.gtefsd.com!uunet!dige
x.net!digex.net!not-for-mail
From: steve-b@access.digex.net (Steve Brinich)
Newsgroups: talk.politics.crypto,alt.privacy,alt.tv.mst3k
Subject: Re: ancient torture techniques
Followup-To: alt.tv.mst3k
Date: 31 Dec 1993 12:08:18 -0500
Organization: Express Access Online Communications, Greenbelt, MD USA
Lines: 354
Message-ID: <2g1ma2$htr@access.digex.net>
References: <netnewsCIMtzo.42w@netcom.com> <netnewsCIpv3q.CH7@netcom.com> 
<Dec31.090735.79631@yuma.acns.colostate.edu>
NNTP-Posting-Host: access.digex.net

  SCENE: Satellite of Love.  Tom Servo is polishing a glass globe that
looks just like his own head.

Crow:  Whatya doing?
Tom:   I'm just.... polishing up a fishbowl.  I thought it'd look good
          here by the hexscreen (he moves over to the hexscreen and
          places the bowl, opening up, just under the hexscreen).
          What do you think?
Crow:  I think that's silly.  First of all, there's no place to put a
          fishbowl there.  Besides which, we don't have any fish here
          to put in a bowl.

  (Mike enters from stage right)

Mike:  Are you two arguing again?

  (Light flashes to indicate an incoming call from the Mads)

Mike:  Never mind; let's see what they want this time.  (taps button)

  SCENE: Deep 13.  Dr. Forrester is holding a cheap-looking mask resembling
his own face.

Dr. F:  Hello, Matt.
Mike:   That's 'Mike'.
Dr. F:  Whatever.  Anyway, it's time for your Invention Exchange, unless
          you need more time to set it up and want me to go first--
Mike:   Well, actually no--
Dr. F:  OK, I'll go first.  Of course, a mad scientist in my position has
          his share of enemies, and some of them are a bit too tough to
          be beaten off directly.  The next best thing is misdirection:
          getting them to vent their frustrations on something more...
          what's the word... 'expendable'.  (Turns toward stage left)
          Oh, Frank!

  (Frank enters from stage left)

Dr. F:  I need you to model this (hands Frank the mask)

  (Frank puts on Dr. F mask)

Dr. F:  As you can see, the perfect decoy to cover my escape if things
          ever get too hot to handle.  And now, your turn.

  (Mike holds a telephone with several types of bells, horns, and other
noisemakers attached to it.)

Mike:   You're finished, then?
Dr. F:  That's what I just _said_.
Frank:  How long do I have to wear this?
Dr. F:  (To Frank) Until I tell you to stop!  (To Mike) Well??
Mike:   We all know about Caller ID, but it has one big problem: you don't
          see the caller's ID until you get close enough to read that little
          display window.  My invention is a Caller ID Ringer that lets
          you know whether the call is worth picking up without even having
          to get out of the bathtub.

  (Cash register bell rings)

Mike:   See, that tells you it's one of those calls from somebody asking
          you for money.

  (Bugle call of 'Reveille' sounds)

Mike:   That tells you it's an Army recruiter calling.

  (Foghorn sounds)

Mike:   That means it's your boss on the line.

  (Poofter pops out of phone, with sound)

Mike:   That means a call on the party line.

Dr. F:  Yes, yes, I'm sure you've got a million of them, but that's all
          the time we have for the Invention Exchange.  Now, for your
          experiment, I have a special treat. (grins evilly)  You remember
          L. Detweiler, alias R. Boxx, alias about a dozen other names
          I can't be bothered to keep track of?

Crow:   I have a bad feeling about this....

Dr. F:  Well, we have a rare treat: a post from him under his very own
          name (as far as we know).  Boy, are you in for some deep
          hurting this time!

  (Movie alarm goes off)

  6....5....4....3....2....1....G



>talk.politics.crypto #1834 (1 + 6 more)                        |    |-<1>
>Newsgroups: talk.politics.crypto,alt.privacy,                  |    |-<1>
>+           comp.org.eff.talk                                  |    \-[2]--[2]
>From: ld231782@keller.lance.colostate.edu (L.                  |-<1>
>+     Detweiler)                                               |-<1>
>[2] ancient torture techniques                                 \-<1>
>Date: Fri Dec 31 04:07:35 EST 1993
>Organization: Colorado State University, Fort Collins, CO  80523
>X-Newsreader: TIN [version 1.2 021193BETA PL3]
>Followup-To: talk.politics.crypto,alt.privacy,comp.org.eff.talk
>Lines: 98
>

  (Mike and Crow enter theater)

Mike:  Where's Tom Servo?

>Geoff Dale (plaz@netcom.com) wrote:
>
>: > Congratulations! If you repeat anything frequently enough,
>: > people begin to believe it.

Crow:  Repeat??  Isn't once bad enough?

>: That seems to be your strategy. It doesn't work when you so consistantly
>: undermine your credability with rants, tho.
>: So stop posting and this little bit of net.history will soon be forgotten.

  (Tom Servo enters theater)

Crow:  What took you so long?
Tom:   I had to finish with the... fishbowl.

 > Hello world, I am not proud of everything I have posted `out there' lately,

Crow:  And you have so much to be not proud about!

 >but I am even less proud of the ugly depths and grotesque deformities

Tom:   Of my terrible secret past.

 >I have seen in certain black corners of the Internet lately

Crow:  Hey!  That's "African-American corners of the Internet"!

 >                                                             and the
 >apalling complacency with which you all view it. The skeletons
 >have not only fallen out the the closet,

Mike:  They had a falling out, and outed each other, and are now out of
          the closet.

 >                                         they have danced around us and
 >punched us all in the face.

Crow:  (Muhammad Ali voice) Dance like a butterfly, sting like a bee.

 >                            My own letters on the subject are an attempt to
 >shock you from your silent complacency and `accessorizing'.

Tom:   With out lovely line of spring accessories for 1994.

 > What happens when trust breaks down?

Crow:  (German accent) It decayz into a migzture of Uranium 235 and
           Plutonium 238.  Very hazzardousz zubsztanzes.

 >                                      What happens when people respond
 >to their own posts?

Tom:  They're schizo?
Mike:  Maybe they're just absent-minded.

 >                     When they misattribute writing?

Crow: OK, so they're absent-minded AND schizo.

>                                                      When they don't care
>who is behind email addresses,

Tom:   Schizo, absent-minded, and now apathetic.
Mike:  This is getting hard to keep track of.

>                               or deceive others about them?

Crow:  Schizo, absent-minded, apathetic, and dishonest....
Mike:  Is somebody writing this down?
Crow:  Hey, you're the only one here with fully functional arms!
Mike:  (takes notepad and pencil from a pocket)

>                                                             When they
>post multiple messages from different addresses?

Crow: As we come full circle back to schizo.

> Imagine that every one of my posts came from a different address.

Tom:   Not hard in this guy's case.

>What is to prevent me? My honesty? My integrity?

All:   NAAAAAH!

>                                                  What if I am a
>cyberanarchist?

Mike:  (jotting something on a notepad) How do you spell that?
Tom & Crow:  (turn to look at Mike)
Mike:  (tosses notebook and pencil into the air)

>                Would I be horrified or delighted at these embezzlements
>of trust?

Tom:   He doesn't know how he'd react to his own actions?
Crow:  Jeez, enough already with the "schizo"?

>          By the squirming and writhing of my victims underneath my
>crushing onslaught?

Mike:  Hey!  I didn't think the Mads were sending us that kind of movies!

* * *

> I was reading a book about ancient torture techniques.

Tom:   Like these posts.

>                                                        (Actually, it was
>about something else, but some paragraphs on the subject crept in from
>obvious relevance.)

Mike:  Obvious to _you_, maybe.

> The Roman soldiers had invented some of the most grisly torture and execution
>techniques the world has ever seen, perhaps the most humiliating and heinous
>punishments known to man.

Crow:  Throw Sandy Frank to the Romans!
Tom:   Lippert, too!

>                          One that I was reading about was called
>`Circle of Eight'.

Crow:  (pirate voice) Arrrgh, mateys!  I have a sack of doubloons and Circles
          of Eight.
Mike:  I think that's PIECES of Eight.
Crow:  Whatever.

>                   A blindfolded prisoner stands as Roman soldiers
>(enthusiastic volunteers?) circle him and take turns punching him in the
>face.

Mike:  I think his verb tenses are about two thousand years off.

>      They take the blindfold off, and ask him, who hit you?

Tom:   The guy with the brass knuckles?

>                                                             And if the
>prisoner fails to name the person, the game continues, they dance in their
>delight, circling at a faster, more dizzying rate, and pummel harder.

Tom:   On the other hand, if he _does_ correctly name the person, he wins
         a new 94 B.C. chariot and a year's supply of Rice-a-Roni.

>What is the point of all this?

Mike:  I was hoping you'd tell _us_!

>                               I don't have a major point,

Crow:  Imagine my surprise.

>                                                           except to
>suggest that this is one of the most evil abominations of humanity I can
>imagine. And that it is shockingly identical to the mentality that a
>cyberanarchist has in hammering others with his fake email identity
>arsenals.

Tom:   You can send an arsenal through email?
Crow:  What will they think of next?

>Medusa is delighted to punch the blindfolded victim in the face with
>her dizzying circle of tentacles.

Tom:   Punched with a circle of tentacles??

>                                  Guess who it is!

Crow:  You already _said_ it was Medusa!  The tentacles are a dead giveaway.

>                                                   Ooops, you're wrong,
>sorry.

Crow:  _I'm_ wrong??  I'm just going by what you just said!

>       PUNCH. What? No, N.Szabo is a real person. PUNCH. Pseudospoofing
>is immoral? nah. PUNCH. N.Szabo is my roommate. PUNCH. Lies are
>liberating. PUNCH. cypherpunks have never pseudospoofed. PUNCH.
>especially the leaders. PUNCH. and everything in the media is true.
>PUNCH. especially what we say. PUNCH. and our leaders are the
>greatest of all. PUNCH.

Tom:   Stop it!  The pain!  The pain!

>See the blood dripping on the ground, see the hideous disfigurement of
>the victim's face.

Tom:   (head explodes)
(Mike and Crow exit hastily, Mike carrying Tom)


  SCENE: Satellite of Love.  Mike places Tom on a table and begins
looking around frantically.

Mike:  Crow!  Quick!  Help me find a spare head for Tom Servo!  We don't
          have much time!
Crow:  (exits stage left)

  (A second Tom Servo enters from stage right)

Mike:  Tom Servo!  Quick!  Help me find a spare head for Tom Servo!

  (Mike stops and does a double-take)

Mike:  What?!?  But you're there (points to Tom Servo on table) with your
          head blown apart from illogic overload or something....
Tom:   (chuckles)  Oh, that!  That's just one of the alter egos I use
          when I need a break from the Mads' experiments.

  (Light flashes to indicate an incoming call from the Mads)

Tom:   Quick!  Get that out of here!  I don't want them to find out....

  (Mike pushes the remains of the other Tom Servo out of sight under the
table.)

  SCENE: Deep 13.  Frank is still wearing the Dr. Forrester mask.  Dr. F
is wearing an equally cheesy-looking Frank mask.

Frank: Well?

Mike:  Frank?  Are you still wearing that silly mask?

  (Dr. F rips off his own mask, then Frank's.  Frank clutches his nose,
which was pinched by Dr. F's grab).

Dr. F: Oh, stop whining and push the button!

  (Frank keeps both hands on his nose and fumbles for the button with his
elbows, hitting it after several tries).



       \  |  /           Mystery Sceince Theater 3000 and associated characters
        \ | /          are the property of Best Brains, Inc. and used here for
         \|/           satirical purposes only.
      ----O----
         /|\             This post is not meant as a personal attack upon
        / | \          the original author (but rather as an impersonal
       /  |  \         attack upon his ideas and level of logical argument).

---------------------------------------------------------------------------
--End Forwarded Post--

_______________________________________________________________________
Geoff Dale         -- Cypherpunk/Extropian --         Plastic Beethoven
AnarchyPPL - Anarch (Adjudicator)      ExI-Freegate Virtual Branch Head
plaz@netcom.com                                        66 Pyramid Plaza
plaz@io.com                             Freegate, Metaverse@io.com 7777
                "Subvert the domination paradigm!"