1997-04-20 - Epilogue to WebWorld

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From: Bubba Rom Dos <bubba@dev.null>
To: cypherpunks@toad.com
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UTC Datetime: 1997-04-20 23:21:44 UTC
Raw Date: Sun, 20 Apr 1997 16:21:44 -0700 (PDT)

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From: Bubba Rom Dos <bubba@dev.null>
Date: Sun, 20 Apr 1997 16:21:44 -0700 (PDT)
To: cypherpunks@toad.com
Subject: Epilogue to WebWorld
Message-ID: <335AA4E9.639C@dev.null>
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Title: The True Story of the InterNet







The True Story of the InterNet

Part II


WebWorld & the Mythical 'Circle of Eunuchs'


by Arnold


Copyright 1995, 1996, 1997 Pearl Publishing


Epilogue


Bubba Rom Dos IV, derelict and philosopher, sage and savant, stood
teetering at the edge of the modest group that had gathered around
the barbecue in the backyard of the country home of Bubba D'Shauneaux
IV.
"To the legendary, mythological "Circle of Eunuchs."
he declared, raising his glass in toast to all around him. Whereupon
Bubba promptly fell on his sorry, drunken ass.

The small group laughed heartily, throwing paper napkins and dandelions
they picked from the ground upon his pitiful carcass. 

"Bubba, the 'Circle of Eunuchs' doesn't exist-everyone knows
that.", Priscilla said, picking him up from his ignoble position
on the ground.

"A complete fabrication for the dim of wit.", the Cowboy
added, smiling from ear to ear. "I'm surprised that a man
of your renowned intellect still chooses to spout that illogical
babble."

"Then why, pray tell, are we all still alive?", Bubba
replied, with a sweeping gesture of hand that encompassed all
gathered there.
All eyes turned to the Author, waiting for his reply.

"Because," the Cowboy stated succinctly, "we are
mythical creatures, living in the realm of mythos, and it is infinitely
harder to kill a myth than to kill a reality."

His statement was met with a resounding applause from the small
group gathered around him, and it spread to the larger group of
guests who were gathered at the back of the small cabin, though
they had heard little of what was being discussed by the small
band of individuals that they regarded as their saviors.
One of them cried out, "Cowboy. Where do we go from here?"
The crowd awaited his answer.

The Cowboy motioned the crowd toward the lake, and everyone walked
silently toward the shore, hand in hand, each lost in his or her
own thoughts about the events of the last few days and their thoughts
for the future. Bottles of 'Bubba Rom Dos' Private Reserve' were
passed from hand to hand as they each became seated at the edge
of the lake, and the Cowboy walked to the water's edge, gazing
out over it.
He stood silently, looking out over the lake for a few moments,
and then turned to those gathered before him, saying, "There's
nowhere to go."

Bubba, standing to the Cowboy's right, placed his hands upon Priscilla's
buttocks, and said, "Wherever you go, there she is."

This was met with a resounding roar of laughter and a barrage
of freshly picked flowers from those gathered at the lakeside.
Priscilla smacked Bubba's hands and he grinned sheepishly as everyone
waited for the Cowboy to continue.
The Cowboy smiled at Bubba and Priscilla, who were holding each
other and swaying slightly, at last comfortable with releasing
themselves to feel the affinity they had always shared. He cast
a glance at Alexis and Jonathan, currently involved in the self-same
procedure of lifelong bonding.

Bubba had performed a special ceremony before the gathering at
D'Shauneaux's cabin, one which had submerged Alexis' conscious
realization of the special Yin-Yang relationship she held with
the Cowboy, and freed her to continue to develop her being with
the one who would be her life-sharing SoulMate in her present
incarnation-Jonathan. 
Upon completion of the ceremony, when Alexis and Jonathan began
realizing the close bond that was developing between them, the
Cowboy could not stop himself from remarking that he thought it
unseemly that Alexis should be consorting with a man six years
her senior. Jonathan and Alexis had watched, mystified, as Priscilla,
Bubba and the Cowboy rolled on the floor in laughter, with the
two of them wondering why the others all seemed to think that
the Cowboy's remark was so hilarious. 

"Nothing has changed.", the Cowboy began, once again
turning to those gathered before him by the shore of the lake.
"Or perhaps," he added, as a gentle afternoon mist began
rising from the edge of the lake behind him, "one could say
that everything has changed."

"Perhaps," he continued, as the mist at the edges of
the lake began spreading, in swirls, across its great expanse,
"the Lake of Life has begun to turn over."
"Perhaps, the bottom is rising to the top, the top is descending
to the bottom, and everything is becoming the opposite of what
it seems to be."

"Perhaps," the Cowboy continued, as he paced slowly
back and forth, his voice becoming an almost inaudible whisper
which seemed to emanate from in front of those gathered there,
and behind them, and from all sides, "we have all been saved
by a small group of saviors."
He gestured towards Bubba, Priscilla, Alexis and Jonathan, and
then toward D'Shauneaux, who was just joining the gathering, in
the company of Melissa.

"Or perhaps," he said, turning to face the crowd,
one and all, directly, the rough whisper of his voice now carrying
softly upon the gentle wind which was blowing in from the lake,
shrouding them all in a fine, opaque mist, "we were saved
by the GrandMaster whom myth has foretold to be the individual
who would step forward when the time came where the Evil One would
make his bid for control over the souls of all of humankind, across
the face of the earth." 

The Cowboy stepped forth into the gathering, and began pointing
to first one, then another, of those assembled there.

"Perhaps it is you, or you, or the little one..."
, he paused to place his hand upon the head of a small child being
held in her mother's arms, "...who is the GrandMaster.
For legend has it that as long as there is but one free man or
woman on the face of the earth-a single person capable of holding
tight to free and rational thought-that there remains a 'cubic
centimeter of chance' that all of humanity can escape the bondage
of the Dark Forces which strive to imprison us."

The Cowboy continued walking through the throng of people, who
were each sitting quietly, hanging on his every word, and he proceeded,
saying, "Or perhaps it is all but a dream, and we will
awaken in the morning, wondering if it is at all possible that
what we have seen, and experienced, in these last few days, is
real."

The mist arising from the lake had now enshrouded everyone in
a dense fog, leaving each of them alone in his or her private
universe, as the Cowboy's voice rose to a commanding pitch of
certitude.

"Forget not, what you have seen and heard in these few
preceding days. Be not afraid to speak of the things you have
seen and heard, to those who have ears to hear-even though it
will lead to others labeling you a fool, spreading fables for
the dim of wit."
"Pick up the torch which has been passed to you, and hold
it high, though it's burden may cause you to stumble and fall,
and though others around you may give up, in despair. For you
are the Author, the Hacker, and the Fool-and you are the GrandMaster
who stands guard over the souls of all humankind, across the face
of the whole earth, and beyond."

"For as long as their is a spark, there is hope. As long
as their is a myth, then the myth can be made real, through faith,
hope, belief-and action."


The gentle wind from the lake slowly dissipated the misty fog
surrounding those gathered there that day, as they looked at one
another in silence, realizing that the Cowboy was now gone and
they were, once again, on their own.
Bubba Rom Dos IV stepped forward, lifting his glass in toast,
declaring, "Thus ends the Second allegorical meeting of the
nonexistent 'Magical Circle of Eunuchs.'"

He was roundly pelted with a fresh gathering of hastily plucked
wildflowers as he downed his toast to a mythical group which has
never really existed, and possibly never will.

As the group dispersed, amongst hugs and kisses between one and
all, each person stopped by the side of the lake, to gaze at their
own reflection, knowing that the time might someday come when
they were the last free man or woman on the face of the earth.
And each resolved, within himself or herself, that they would
not die, asking plaintively, "Why didn't I do something."


Gomez sat quietly in his study, staring vacantly
into the dark void which stretched interminably before him. Once
again, all of his efforts had come to naught, and all because
of a myth...a myth which had been actualized though becoming
endued with a small spark of hope, faith and belief. A myth which
had created a smouldering ember of expectancy in these infernal
creatures who continued to resist the plans of the Evil One to
subdue them, and hold them in bondage to his Grand Purpose for
all of mankind to serve Him.


Gomez slowly poured himself a shot of 'Bubba Rom
Dos' Private Reserve', noticing, for the first time, the words
in fine print at the bottom of the Logo.

"Mythos is the 'Black Bitch' of
the universe...it's the wildcard in the Game of Life."


Epilogue / "WebWorld & The Mythical
Circle of Eunuchs"









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