From: "Don't Ask..." <da@dev.null>
Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 19:29:14 +0800
To: cypherpunks@toad.com
Subject: InfoWar Epilogue 8 / TEXT
Message-ID: <345C615F.228B@dev.null>
MIME-Version: 1.0
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                       The True Story of the InterNet
                                  Part III

                                   InfoWar

                  Final Frontier of the Digital Revolution

                     Behind the ElectroMagnetic Curtain

                        by TruthMonger <tm@dev.null>

Copyright 1997 Pearl Publishing
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                          InfoWar Table of Contents

   * Epilogue
   * TruthMonger#1

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                                  Epilogue
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Subject: Infowar circa 1850
From: nobody@neva.org (Neva Remailer)
To: cypherpunks@Algebra.COM

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   "Blood Meridian: Or the Evening Redness in the West" by Cormac McCarthy

The Reverend Green had been playing to a full house daily as long as
the rain had been falling and the rain had been falling for two
weeks. When the kid ducked into the ratty canvas tent there was
standing room along the walls, a place or two, and such a heady reek
of the wet and bathless that they themselves would sally forth into
the downpour now and again for fresh air before the rain drove them
in again. He stood with others of his kind along the back wall. The
only thing that might have distinguished him in that crowd was that he
was not armed.

Neighbors, said the reverend, he couldnt stay out of these here
hell, hell, hellholes right here in Nacogdoches. I said to him, said:
You goin to take the son of God in there with ye? And he said: Oh
no. No I aint. And I said: Dont you know that he said I will foller
ye always even unto the end of the road?

Well, he said, I aint askin nobody to go nowheres. And I said:
Neighbor, you dont need to ask. He's a goin to be there with ye ever
step of the way whether ye ask it or ye dont. I said: Neighbor, you
caint get shed of him. Now. Are you going to drag him, *him*, into
that hellhole yonder?

You ever see such a place for rain?

The kid had been watching the reverend. He turned to the man who
spoke. He wore long moustaches after the fashion of teamsters and he
wore a widebrim hat with a low round crown. He was slightly walleyed
and he was watching the kid earnestly as if he'd know his opinion
about the rain.

I just got here, said the kid.

Well it beats all I ever seen.

The kid nodded. An enormous man dressed in an oilcloth slicker had
entered the tent and removed his hat. He was bald as a stone and he
had no trace of beard and he had no brows to his eyes nor lashes to
them. He was close on to seven feet in height and he stood smoking a
cigar even in this nomadic house of God and he seemed to have removed
his hat only to chase the rain from it for now he put it on again.

The reverend had stopped his sermon altogether. There was no sound
in the tent. All watched the man. He adjusted the hat and then
pushed his way forward as far as the crateboard pulpit where the
reverend stood and there he turned to address the reverend's
congregation. His face was serene and strangely childlike. His hands
were small. He held them out.

Ladies and gentlemen I feel it my duty to inform you that the man
holding this revival is an imposter. He holds no papers of divinity
from any institution recognized or improvised. He is altogether
devoid of the least qualifications to the office he has usurped and
has only committed to memory a few passages from the good book for the
purpose of lending to his fraudulent sermons some faint flavor of the
piety he despises. In truth, the gentleman standing here before you
posing as a minister of the Lord is not only totally illiterate but is
also wanted by the law in the states of Tennessee, Kentucky,
Mississippi, and Arkansas.

Oh God, cried the reverend. Lies, lies! He began reading
feverishly from his opened bible.

On a variety of charges the most recent of which involved a girl of
eleven years - I said eleven - who had come to him in trust and whom
he was surprised in the act of violating while actually clothed in the
livery of his God.

A moan swept through the crowd. A lady sank to her knees.

This is him, cried the reverend, sobbing. This is him. The devil.
Here he stands.

Let's hang the turd, called an ugly thug from the gallery to the
rear.

Not three weeks before this he was run out of Fort Smith Arkansas
for having congress with a goat. Yes lady, that is what I said.
Goat.

Why damn my eyes if I wont shoot the son of a bitch, said a man
rising at the far side of the tent, and drawing a pistol from his boot
he leveled it and fired.

The young teamster instantly produced a knife from his clothing and
unseamed the tent and stepped outside into the rain. The kid
followed. They ducked low and ran across the mud toward the hotel.
Already gunfire was general within the tent and a dozen exits had been
hacked through the canvas walls and people were pouring out, women
screaming, folk stumbling, folk trampled underfoot in the mud. The
kid and his friend reached the hotel gallery and wiped the water from
their eyes and turned to watch. As they did so the tent began to sway
and buckle and like a huge and wounded medusa it slowly settled to the
ground trailing tattered canvas walls and ratty guyropes over the
ground.

The baldheaded man was already at the bar when they entered. On the
polished wood before him were two hats and a double handful of coins.
He raised his glass but not to them. They stood up to the bar and
ordered whiskeys and the kid laid his money down but the barman pushed
it back with his thumb and nodded.

These here is on the judge, he said.

They drank. The teamster set his glass down and looked at the kid
or he seemed to, you couldnt be sure of his gaze. The kid looked down
the bar to where the judge stood. The bar was that tall not every man
could even get his elbows up on it but it came just to the judge's
waist and he stood with his hands placed flatwise on the wood, leaning
slightly, as if about to give another address. By now men were piling
through the doorway, bleeding, covered in mud, cursing. They gathered
about the judge. A posse was being drawn to pursue the preacher.

Judge, how did you come to have the goods on that no-account?

Goods? said the judge.

When was you in Fort Smith?

Fort Smith?

Where did you know him to know all that stuff on him?

You mean the Reverend Green?

Yessir. I reckon you was in Fort Smith fore ye come out here.

I was never in Fort Smith in my life. Doubt that he was.

They looked from one to the other.

Well where was it you run up on him?

I never laid eyes on the man before today. Never even heard of him.
He raised his glass and drank.

There was a strange silence in the room. The men looked like mud
effigies. Finally someone began to laugh. Then another. Soon they
were all laughing together. Someone bought the judge a drink.

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                                   You are
                                 What you do
                               When it counts
                                 - The Masao
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                                TruthMonger#1

             "Identity Theft Is the Sincerest Form of Flattery."

I would be the last one to deny that those who have followed the Chronicles
of InfoWar and/or my posts to the CypherPunks mailing list would be
justified in concluding that I am a raving lunatic, suffering from some
bizarre form of psychotic delusion which has yet to be properly researched,
defined and categorized by medical science.

However, please allow me to say a few words in my own defense, in the hope
of giving you at least a modicum of insight into the method of my madness,
and vice-versa.

I have lived a life which many people would consider rather remarkable and,
in some aspects, rather unbelievable, as well. {In reality, 'unusual' is
probably a more fitting, though mundane, description.}
In order to impress upon you that I am not consciously or (too)
subconsciously attempting to pretentiously portray (or inwardly deem) myself
as some kind of eminent, all-wise, all-seeing guru or genius at the expense
of the individual uniqueness, talents and value of others, such as yourself,
let me state that I truly recognize, even in my moments of cynicism, egoism,
or a plethora of other human states of consciousness and being, that what I
regard as the absolute wonderment of my own life is no less remarkable than
that of each and every other being sharing this corporeal and metaphysical
existence with me.

If I were able to single handedly bring about world-peace upon the earth
tomorrow, heal all of the sick and lame, and make life a proverbial bowl of
cherries for all humankind, I would still regard myself as no more
remarkable than any man or woman who is capable of bringing new life into
this world.
Anyone who has ever been present at the birth of a child is likely to
understand that I am speaking of the folly of our pretensions and our
posturing, in the face of the genuine mystery of creation.

Having said this, let me proceed to attempt to elucidate the reasons for the
sincerity I strive for in writing, no matter how 'right' or 'wrong' I may be
in my beliefs, values and world-view.

I was very young as a child...

OK, seriously...

The expression "been there, done that, got the T-shirt" applies to each and
every one of us in our own way.

My life has been a process of going everywhere, doing everything, seeing and
experiencing an amazing variety of the reality-bytes that life has to offer.
Many whom I have come in contact with, who have 'settled down' to live a
life very similar to that of their family, friends and neighbors, find me to
be an interesting fascinating 'character.' What many of them do not fully
realize is that I find them to be equally fascinating.
Despite the wild, far-ranging roller coaster of life I have experienced, I
recognize that it is in no way more reality-encompassing than the life of
someone who has borne and raised a child, or children, or who have dedicated
their life to the pursuit of total understanding of minute area of the total
scheme of reality. I have sometimes been involved in conversations with
people who pour out their woes, their self-doubts, their regrets of 'roads
not taken,' etc., and I have said, in reply, "You have raised a wonderful
child. You, and everyone else who has done so deserve a Pulitzer Prize. No
one on the face of the earth, however renowned, has ever done anything which
is superior to what you have accomplished."

Everyone has things that they have the background and ability to do and
corresponding life lessons and experience that they have to share with their
fellow terrestrial travelers.
What I believe I have to share is the perceptive viewpoint of someone who
has garnered a reasonably objective outlook on the life and society around
them, as a result of having always stood slightly outside the boundaries of
whatever situational reality they were interacting with at any point in
time.
To illustrate, allow me to point out that I have been through "The End of
the World" (tm) twice, in my lifetime to date.

The first time was as a baptized member of Herbert W. Armstrong's Worldwide
Church of God. (I am not only Washed In The Blood Of The Lamb, but I also
scrubbed behind my ears-mom would be proud of me.)
One of the reasons I still regard the members of the WWCOG very highly is
that during my stay in the church I suffered very little discrimination or
judgment as a result of being vastly different from almost all other members
of the church, in ways that would have resulted, as a member of most
organizations (religious or secular), in my being the target of coercive
attempts at 'changing me for the better', or [Your Example of Infringement
of One's Right To Self-Determination Here].

Hard to believe that hard-core Christians could be this liberal (Example #
6):
"We would rather that you didn't strip naked during church services, paint
yourself blue and stand on your head while chanting 'Allah is good...Allah is
great. Hopefully, further Bible study will lead you to understand that these
actions are not necessary for spiritual development. But, hey! We could be
wrong."

While you may be chuckling at my humorous representation of what I am
explaining, here, let me assure you that this tongue in cheek example is no
more outlandish than 'the real facts.'

When "The End of the World" (tm) was announced, church members made
preparations for holing up on the specified date, having a fantastic 'last
meal' and preparing for a final night of fellowship during which most
'masks' would be dropped (being as how the last day before the end of all
physical existence doesn't lend itself to being pretentious in the hope of
receiving future benefit from misleading yourself and others).
{FYI: Yes, I was tempted to make the obvious "going out with a bang
<nod-nod, wink-wink>" suggestions, all in good humor, but this was one of
the few times in my life that I was able to resist my basic urge to be
infantile and immature.}

After the WWCOG members, including myself, awoke the next morning to find
that it still hurt when they pinched their arm, so this couldn't possibly be
Heaven (tm), the church went through a major shake-up, with many members
becoming disillusioned and leaving for browner pastures. Most of those who
remained in the church went through great mental and emotional turmoil in
the process of resolving the dichotomy of remaining a member of a 'True
Church' which had failed the ultimate test of 'infallibility'.
Not me...

This is part and parcel of what I am trying to explain as an example of what
I regard as an ability on my part to exercise a great deal of objectivity,
even during my active participation in entering into membership in a
particular or specific belief-system.

I never, at any time, believed that the proverbial "End of the World" was
imminent. Quite the opposite, in fact, yet I participated fully in the
event.
Why? When you are a member of a bowling team, you bowl ten frames because
that is what you are there to do, as a member of the team. That is how those
involved keep score and the agreed basis upon which they judge the results.

I made no attempt to burst anyone else's bubble while preparing for an event
which I was certain would not occur but, when asked by other church members,
I did not attempt to obfuscate my beliefs in this regard, instead speaking
honestly about my view that the person reading the road map of the future
was not aware of the concept of magnetic deflection affecting the perception
of True North.
On the other hand, neither did I negate the possibility that I might, at the
appointed time, be proven wrong, as I found myself swept up into Heaven (tm),
to be confronted by a Supreme Being who was wagging a finger at me, saying,
"You are going to find your eternal stay in Heaven considerably more
enjoyable if you drop the cynicism."

As a result of having the objectivity which comes from being what I
characterize as "an insider watching from the outside," I found that I could
observe or participate in the debates between the 'True Believers' and the
'Disillusioned' and manage to separate the wheat from the chaff, chiefly
because I didn't have a 'position to defend.'
i.e.-I hadn't given away my bowling ball (metaphorically speaking) to
charity, out of certitude that I would not be needing it the following day,
so I had no need to 'place blame' on anyone for my having to buy a new
bowling ball for the upcoming tournament.

Although I ceased actively participating in the WWCOG shortly after The End
of the World (tm) , it was a result of having already learned and experienced
most of those things which I was there to apperceive.

In the wake of the World inconsiderately failing to End on schedule, the
titular heads of the Worldwide Church of God rechecked their figures and,
sure enough, realized that they had forgotten to 'carry the three' and that
it had been a mistake to use the recently legislated value of pi (3.0) in
their calculations.
I found this to be very disturbing.
I personally had absolutely no problem with the World failing to End as
predicted, nor with those who had mistakenly (as it turned out) made the
prediction. My beliefs and core values were neither strengthened nor
weakened by the details of the event-I am proud to say that I felt no need
to paint myself 'green' instead of 'blue' thereafter, in an attempt to
rebuild a non-existent ivory tower of religious/spiritual belief.

Had those involved not busied themselves with attempting to pretend that
they were still infallible, but bad at math, my sojourn in the Worldwide
Church of God would have undoubtedly lasted a little longer. As it was, I
felt that there were more precipitous routes to additional knowledge and
learning, since advancement of corporal and ethereal cognitive capabilities
had been put on hold in the church in the interests of regeneration of
structures which were not truly necessary to the objectives of religious
spirituality.

To tell the truth, I find it rather ironic that intelligent, spiritually
oriented individuals who recognize the foolishness of worshipping golden
calves often fail to recognize that the 'semi-worshipping' of 'wooden'
calves may be a step forward, but is equally foolish, nonetheless.

My participation in the second (non-annual) "End of the World" (tm) was as a
member of the Institute of Applied Metaphysics.
The event/process was very similar in concept to the WWCOG "End of the
World" (tm), with only the circumstantial details being significantly
different.
i.e. - As a member of IAM, I stripped naked, painted my self purple, and
stood on my head during the meetings, conferences and classes.

Once again, those involved in "The End of the World" (tm) awoke the next
morning to find that it still hurt when they pinched their arm (or when I
pinched their butt). Again, there was a certain amount of disillusionment in
the wake of continued corporeal existence, but less so than in the WWCOG,
since there was less of a structured, ritual schematization involved.
i.e. - more people wearing jeans, fewer people wearing suits and ties

I eventually moved on to a divergent path in my quest toward finding new and
better ways to investigate the underlying unity within the boundaries of
diversity, once again taking along the lessons and experiences I had
garnered during my hiatus from constant motion (as opposed to fleeing from
the abomination of human fallibility).

The wake of this second failure of the World to End according to schedule
was of lesser amplitude than the previous one I had participated in, rocking
the boat of established position/beliefs less than before. I attribute this
to the fact that the response of the titular heads of the Institute of
Applied Metaphysics was not to 'deny' that there had been no failure, only a
slight miscalculation (PolitiSpeak), but was, instead, to 'reveal' to the
participants that the world had, in fact, come to an end, exactly as
predicted.
The 'loophole' that validated this Nostradamian spin-doctoring was that the
precise wording of the original prediction was "the world AS WE KNOW IT will
come to an end."

{Petty and cynical way to have fun with 'voices pontificating in the
wilderness' when they are so foolish as to give a date and time to their
"End of the World" (tm) prediction: Ask them if the time quoted is Eastern
Time, Pacific Time, or Greenwich Mean Time.
NostraCanadaIsis: "The 'End of the World' (tm) will be at 9:00 p.m. (9:30 p.m.
in Newfoundland).

Definition: Spin Doctoring - You are standing naked in the gas chamber with
a thousand of your fellow ethnic outlaws when the voice of Herr Himmler
blares out from the speakers, "I have decided to spare your lives." The loud
cheers of yourself and your grateful ethnological comrades are cut short by
the sound of a deadly gas being released from the ceiling vents. A different
voice comes over the speaker, saying, "What Herr Himmler meant to say, was..."

Sick humor? Moi...?

The two examples above involve group participation events which are
synchronous with individual examples of 'what I do.'

Everyone has things which they 'do'.
What I am speaking of here is something which I believe most people
inherently understand, but which is difficult to put into words.
i.e. - I can only describe my understanding of the concept I am expressing,
in the hope that you can compare and interpret what I say in the light of
your own knowledge and experience, be it a translation of what I say into a
mathematical equation, an emotional feeling, a graphical representation, or
whatever...

What some people do is to live a life of optimism which drives cynical
people crazy, particularly in light of the fact that the history of events
in the optimist's life confirms that his or her world-view is valid.
What other people do is live a life of cynicism which drives optimists
crazy, in light of the fact that the cynic's observations and logic are
irrefutable, thus forcing the optimist to face the fact that life is not a
bowl of cherries for those whose destiny is not to reflect the benefits of
the power of positive thinking but, rather, the reality that life is a crap
shoot.

i.e. <squared> - Some people always find a parking space exactly where they
need one, and other people never find a parking space in the needed spot.

The "End of the World" (tm) is something that I do.
'Participate in' might equally describe what I refer to as 'something I do',
if viewed from the perspective of the interplay between myself and others.

To explain, on a one-on-one level of individuality, what I am speaking of, I
should explain that, on occasion, people I know, vaguely know, or don't know
from Adam, will show up on my doorstep, and spend time with me.
A total stranger sometimes shows up on my doorstep and, without a word of
explanation, spends several days helping me install a new carpet, trim my
hedges, or whatever I happen to be involved in at the time. All without
saying a word before departing at some point, never to cross my path again
before making their exit from this mortal plane.
Or, they may show up and sit in my living room for an hour, a day, a week,
and tell me their life story. "I was very young, as a child...then, this
morning..." Once again, after they have done whatever it is they needed to do,
they depart.

The common link between the people who enter my life to perform variations
upon the above themes, before moving on, is that they die a short time
later.
What is the 'explanation of'/'reason for' the process I have just described?
I have some opinions and/or theories in this regard, but the bottom line is
that it does not matter in the least whether I am correct or incorrect in
this regard. The bottom line is that it is something that I do/'participate
in' and experience has taught me that if I try to interpret the 'true
meaning and purpose' of these events, thereby convincing myself that I have
some imagined 'cause of action' by which I can control/influence the
'outcome' of the event in a 'proper' manner, everything goes to hell and
takes longer than it would have if I had resisted the impulse to
control/interfere.

At this point, I would like to point out that many people might regard the
preceding as what Tim May refers to as 'magical thinking' and that they
would, in a certain sense, be right. Tim May has, in more than a few
missives, indicated his disapproval of those who engage in the 'airy-fairy'
process of 'magical thinking,' in contradiction to the known physical laws
of reality.

I have long regarded Tim May as the original Philosopher King of the
CypherPunks mailing list, and I give considerable weight to his missives,
knowing that they are, for the most part, composed in a process which
involves careful thought and analysis of the issues or technicalities of
whatever topic that his missive is addressing.
If my first reading of his post to the CypherPunks list seems to indicate
that he is simply 'on the rag' and 'blowing smoke,' then I read the post
again to see if I am correct in the assumption that he is having a 'bad hair
day,' or if I have my head up my butt and I am failing to understand what
Tim is attempting to communicate.

Tim May sometimes comes off, in the context of the
not-totally-encompassing-media of InterNet communication, as a bit of a
Redneck/Ugly-American/Materialistically-Grounded/Fuck-the-Hippie-Crystal-Worshipers
kind of guy.
i.e. - Nuke Magical Thinkers
However, I think he would be surprised, given my above claims, to find that
I agree with him, for the most part-listen closely-within the context of his
definition of 'magical thinking.'

However, 'magical thinking' is something that I do, and I believe that it is
valid from within the context of my definition of what the term truly
comprises.
i.e. - I care not in the least whether you (or I) claim that it is possible
to 'psychically will' the balance of a bank account to increase by $100.00.
My view is that this-or-that claim doesn't matter in the least. What matters
is whether the bank account does or does not increase.

What I am getting at is that, as a mathematician, the certitude of what you
recognize and accept is not dependent on my mathematical ability to
understand the concepts which you know and understand. My belief that 1 + 1
= 3 is not likely to cause you to come to the belief that your whole life is
a lie, and that you should kill yourself.
Why is this? Because mathematics is something that you do.

Likewise, metaphysics is something that I do.
What I implore you to understand is that I have no more personal, emotional
investment in a blue aura meaning 'this' as opposed to 'that', than you, as
a mathematician, have in 1 + 1 = 2, as opposed to 1 + 1 = 3.
Your concern as a mathematician is that the value you recognize is valid
within the boundaries of the logic system within which you are working. My
concern as a metaphysician is the same.

In effect, what I am saying is that people, be they friends, acquaintances
or total strangers, show up on my doorstep and do whatever it is they need
to do before departing and going off to reunite with the Spirit of the
Cosmic Muffin, or whatever.
You don't understand? Me neither...

Do you believe or disbelieve what I am telling you? Do you think it is a
'good' thing or a 'bad' thing, if true? Do you think it is the work of God,
or the work of the Devil?
Pick 'one from Column A and two from Column B', or vice-versa-it's fine by
me. Regardless of your or my belief/disbelief, attitude or opinion...it
happens.

If you feel the urge to show up on my doorstep and spend the next few
decades helping to prove or disprove what I perceive as reality, feel free
to do so, but I believe that there are probably much better ways to spend
your time.

I guess what I am haphazardly attempting to explain is my view of what
objectivity truly means, insofar as I understand the concept and strive to
arrive at an objective, truthful perception of existence, during my journey
through 'madness cleverly disguised as sanity' (or vice-versa).

Non-Taoists often perceive those who are journeying in a direction opposite
to, or tangent to, their own vector of impetus as being 'in opposition to'
themselves.
>From a Taoist perspective, however, no one is truly 'going the wrong way.'

In effect, it is as if we live in a world where traveling both North and
South are required for survival/enlightenment/whatever.
Those who are dimly aware that they are traveling North after having already
fulfilled the 'traveling South' part of the equation, are likely to
subconsciously recognize that those traveling in the opposite direction may
be doing so because have already fulfilled the 'traveling North' part of the
equation. Those who have not yet traversed the opposite side of the equation
are more likely to believe that those traveling in the opposite direction
are 'evil incarnate', actively seeking to subvert the will of the OneWay
True God who rules the 'Turn Left To Go Towards Righteousness' universe.

I believe that it might help to clarify the concept I am attempting to
express here if I ask you to think of examples from your own life, and from
the lives of others you have observed, which might serve to illustrate
people who unthinkingly shout "You are going the wrong way!" to total
strangers when, in fact, they have no idea where the person they are
shouting at is coming from, or going to.
A parallax example would be a mature person trying to impose the logic of
grownup reasoning on a teenager who is firmly ensconced in the hormonal grip
of a still-growing movement toward balancing reason and emotion.

The value that our experience and understanding can play in communicating
with others is directly related to the degree to which we have recognized,
faced and resolved those events and situations in our life that require us
to strike a balance between order and chaos, individuality and communion
with the 'other', stability and evolution-Yin and Yang.

Obtuse Parallax Non-Involvement Participation Theory: The fact that life is
a crap shoot in no way detracts from the validity of 'self-determination
through the exercise of free will' playing an essential part in determining
the final outcome of the unfolding of our predestination.

{Pretty profound, eh? I wonder if it actually means anything...}

But, seriously...I was very young as a child...

OK, I'll quit kidding around. (Honest!)

Despite the extremely multitudinous verbal effusions which I often use to
convey my understanding of life's realities and peculiarities, much of what
my preceding voluminous asseverations are aimed toward communicating can be
summed up in a two-line poem which was written by an eccentric schizoid
component of my overall persona which lurks omnipresently behind the scar
tissue on the periphery of my brain, as the result of a failed lobotomy
attempt by a well-meaning, but misguided, member of the Manson family.

                           "All My Lies Are True"

                            All my lies are true...
                      And everything I do, I really am.

In short (but time-and-volume expanded to give you the benefit of
enlightenment through overcoming the confusion of my verbal obtuseness),
there exists-in the heart of the time-space continuum that is conspiring
with extemporaneous metaphysical actuality to bring us all to a sorry
end-two separate and distinct enemies of the current direction and goals of
our lifelong aspirations.

The first enemy is whatever runs contrary to our beliefs, aims and purpose
in life, and which threatens our existence/being/survival because of our
failure to recognize its value in our life, due to the fact that it
encompasses arenas of life which we have not yet had occasion to confront
and/or experience.
The second enemy is the 'friendly enemy' which represents those arenas of
life which we have already traversed, and which constitute a hazard to the
evolution of our consciousness only by virtue of the fact that it is always
tempting to bathe in the glory of treading familiar ground, deluding
ourselves that our competence in rehashing already-learned lessons in life
is a sign of superiority to those poor souls we pass by as they stumble and
fall in their evolutionary journey through unfamiliar territory.

For those of you who have consumed less than a quart of Scotch in the last
half-hour, and are thus mystified as to what I am talking about, here, I
will point out that what I have just expressed might be considered to be the
equivalent of those who teach second-grade math indulging themselves in the
bizarre and obscene delusion that the godlike reverence which the six and
seven year old children impute to them as a result of their superior
understanding of the mysteries of multiplication is somehow reflective of
their innate superiority to the entirety of humanity around them.

Or, as a parallax example, a school yard bully who considers himself to be a
'tough guy', despite the fact that he is six-foot eight, two hundred and
forty five pounds, forty three years of age, and is still in the third
grade.
[No, asshole, this example is not based on my own life experience.]

As you may have already guessed, I have pretty much lost track of what the
hell it is I had originally intended to communicate in this duplicitous
soliloquy concerning the divine triad of incremental quaternion.
So perhaps it is best that I toss my Thesaurus in the trash and entrust to
my limited lexicon the responsibility of conveying an important, though
insipid, axiom of life which should serve as an shining beacon which has the
capacity to enlighten the waters beyond the rocky shores of my limited
attention span, and open the door to a complete understanding of how to
properly interpret and evaluate the Chronicles of InfoWar.

In other words-in plain English-articulating my unknown thoughts in a manner
which accurately expresses my lack of social skills and my disposition
toward not really giving a fat rat's ass if my efforts at elocution are
appreciated, or whether I am just pissing in the wind...
I am the living, breathing incarnation of the Jules Pfiefer elucidation of
the "Mad Dog in possession of the last false smile."

I AM the TruthMonger.

If you think that my irreverence, sick humor, and my propensity toward
expressing myself in a manner which will lead those reading my mad ramblings
to conclude that I am an uncouth, insane asshole is an indication that I am
not totally sincere in seeking to share the enlightenment that it has been
my blessing to experience during the course of my life, then Fuck You!

We are all born into a predestined domain wherein our role as a warrior is
to fight the battles which can be waged by none other than ourselves.
My predestined battle is to rail loud and long against the anal-retentive
scourge of counterfeit substantiality which we and our fellow
anthropological sycophants kneel in obeisance to, for lack of true belief in
the primacy of our sovereign franchise which not only deems us to be the
captain of our ship of life and master of our ultimate destiny, but which
also demands that we recognize our divinity and our obligation to throw off
the bondage of outside authority, accepting total responsibility for living
our life according to the dictates of our conscience and our innate soul
pattern.

"To he who does what within him lies, God will not deny his grace."
- Saint Thomas Aquinas

"We make our Gods, do battle with them, and they bless us."
- Herman Hesse

"All my lies are TruthMongering."
- The Last Canadian Outlaw
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                        "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
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