From: Adam Back <aba@dcs.ex.ac.uk>
Date: Wed, 9 Sep 1998 20:20:17 +0800
To: cypherpunks@cyberpass.net
Subject: Toto describing a visit from SS agents
Message-ID: <199809100035.BAA07635@server.eternity.org>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain




Again while searching for keys, another encrypted message (Subject:
Secret Service With A Smile - SAHMD!!! / Pwd: lco, Date: 31 Jul 98)
this message appears to refer to a visit from US Secret Service
agents, apparently due to their imputing some kind of threat to US
president(?) in one of Toto's rants.

Decrypted copy below [1].

Adam

[1]
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Secret Service With A Smile - SPACE ALIENS HIDE MY DRUGS!!!
___________________________________________________________

  It was only natural for me to wonder what it was about the Secret
Service Agents who visited me today that enabled them to act like
decent, pleasant people during the course of the personal interview
portion of their investigation into my life and psyche.

  The question was answered, to my satisfaction, at the point when
the more veteran of the two agents explained that, despite my
rugged handsomeness and my delightful personality, they would have
to CrushMeLikeABug if it became apparent to them that my already
tentative physical and mental existence came into conflict with
their official duty to protect the President of the United States.
  I realized that they were professionals, with a high degree of
integrity, and that their concern probably went far beyond the
fact that if the Nation lost the CommanderInChief on their shift,
they could pretty much kiss their Christmas Bonus goodbye...
  It was also apparent that their ability to be quite reasonable
and pleasant human beings--while making it plain that informing me
that putting me away for observation in Springfield, Missouri,
could easily take away a full year of my life, was *meant* to be
a threat--without having to engage in a heavy-handed affectation
of MachoAuthority, was the result of their actually *having* the
authority to decide, here and now, whether or not my life would
instantly become a living hell.

  The Secret Service Agents were also extremely intelligent, not
even blinking before passing on my offer to testify against myself,
in return for immunity from prosecution.
 (When I made the same offer to RCMP OffalSlurs, they had to 
  contact their superiors, who held a meeting with OffalSchills
  behind the closed doors of the Canadian Justice Apartment,
  before finally declining my offer.)

  I was able to relax and be cooperative in dealing with the 
Agents, since, when your fate is in the hands of someone with
GenuineAuthority, whether their intentions are GoodOrEvil (TM)
is not nearly as important as to whether or not they happen to
be StupidFucks (TM) who can ruin your life over something as
simple as misunderstanding your request that they make their
questions more 'lucid.'
 ("That's it, you sick, fucking pervert! Jim, get the kilo of
  heroin out of the trunk...")

Wrong Question #29 When Dealing With StupidFucks:
  "Excuse me, but do your employers *know* that you carry a gun?
I mean, have they ever met you, or were you hired by mail? Can
you actually shoot a gun without moving your lips?"

  Although the Secret Service Agents were in possession of an
email I had sent a few minutes or hours previously, from Pima
College --> <erehwon@dis.org> (who I immediately tried to Rat
Out as the leader of a ChildSexRingDedicatedToTheViolentOver
ThrowOfTheUSGovernment, in order to save my own skin), the
agents seemed much more interested in a chapter of SAHMD!!!
which contains notification of an OfficialDeathThreat to pretty
much DoGodAndEverybodyOnTheFaceOfTheEarth.
  I tried to placate them by reaching over with a pen and adding
an 'Un' in front of the word 'Official,' but they were not really
impressed, informing me that the point they were trying to make
had to do with it being unacceptable, from their point of view,
for me to use the words 'Death,' 'Threat,' and 'President' all
in the same paragraph, let alone all in the same sentence.
{"Well, excuuusssee *me*!"}
  Realizing that it was probably not an opportune moment to try to
hit them up for a donation toward the maintenance of my planned
PresidentialDeathThreatAnonymousRemailer, I casually turned the
donation jar so that they couldn't see the label, and I set it
down.

  Actually, I couldn't be certain that I had actually written the
chapter, or portion thereof, with which the agents seemed most
concerned, since I find it difficult to distinguish between the
work that is mine alone, and the work that is a collage of various
participants in the writing and dissemination of 'The True Story
of the InterNet' manuscripts, if I don't have access to the files
on the computer on which they were created and stored.
  Nonetheless, I refrained from pointing out that the phrase that
indicates that the writer "might" conceivably "whack" someone or
another GovernmentPersonage, might equally apply to the stance
taken by the Secret Service Agents, themselves, if the Founding
Fathers were to be believed when they indicated that it is the
right and the duty of the citizenry to take up arms against their
rulers, if need be, in the interest of Democracy, Freedom, Justice,
or in DivineRetribution against the High&Mighty if they take a drink
out of your beer while you're in the restroom, having a leak.
 (I'm not certain about that last example, but I have no doubt that
  the Founding Fathers *meant* to include that...)

  I refrained from attempting to engage the Agents in philosophical
debate in regard to some of the finer points surrounding the issues
of Freedom of Speech, since the purpose of their visit was obviously
geared toward impressing upon me the duties encompassed by their job
description, their professional competence in doing their job, and
the fact that the necessity of making a return visit would very
likely be an indication that Uncle Sam was about to become my new
landlord.
  To tell the truth, I was in a pretty scattered state of mind at
the time of their visit, and I undoubtedly failed to adequately
understand a good portion of the dialogue which took place, but
they were very clear in explaining that, given my current state
of unwelcomeness in Canada, I am running out of countries to go
to, and that I should give serious consideration as to whether or
not I wanted my next Literary Spamology to be titled, "Midnight 
Express II."
  Hhhmmm...decisions, decisions...

  Since my reading of the Secret Service Agents is that they are
highly ethical professionals, with little need to persecute an
individual out of thin-skinned, personal vindictiveness, I guess
it wouldn't hurt to mention that, minutes after their departure,
Linda Lou arrived home, announcing that there was yet another
Tarantula in the driveway, headed toward the house...

  The obvious conclusion, of course, is that the Secret Service
Agents are actually Reptilian Nazis, who are deeply involved in
the WorldWidePlotAgainstMe.
  This, in turn, leads to the dilemma of whether or not I should,
on the occasion of a return visit, jump them and drive wooden stakes
through their hearts, turning them into quivering pools of smoking,
green slime. 
 (Or is that Vampires? Shit! I'd better check, first, or it could
  lead to a really embarassing situation.)

  On the other hand, since they were quite civil and reasonable
in their dealings with me, and they apparently didn't eat any of
the dogs, while here (although it might have been a different
story, if we had poodles), then perhaps their is a chance that
we and the Reptilian Nazis can live together in peace...unless it
is a SneakyTrick (TM), of course...and they are trying to *confuse*
me, so that I don't warn TheOthers...and they were only so pleasant
because they were inwardly laughing at me for not realizing that,
starting tomorrow, they are going to take control of the whole face
of the globe, turning all humans into LobotomizedSlaves who exist
only to serve their ReptilianNaziMasters!

QUICK, EVERYBODY! ARM YOURSELVES AND RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!!
PREPARE TO ENGAGE THE REPTILIAN NAZIS IN VIOLENT, BLOODY STRUGGLE!
START BY WHACKING OUT THE LAWYERS, AND THEN...

  Hold it! What the fuck am I ranting on about?
  The Masses are *already* LobotomizedSlaves who exist only to serve
their ReptilianNaziMasters...

  Maybe the agents were just here to see whether or not Baby is a
poodle.
  That makes more sense, since the Reptilian Nazis don't really 
give a FatRat'sAss about the Jews, but they *do* want to round up
all of the poodles shortly before the arrival of their Reptilian
Nazi Relatives, so that there is plenty of barbeque at their
PicnicToCelebrateTheConquestOfEarth.
  Yeah, that's gotta be it...

  Actually, I'm rather glad that the Secret Service Agents dropped
around to meet me in person, since people reading my copious literary
effluvia sometimes mistakenly get the impression that I am some kind
of Dogamned Weirdo, or something.
  Still, I wish I had been able to refrain from going, "Cuckoo-Cuckoo"
on the hour and the half-hour during their vist.
  But, what the hell...I bet that a *lot* of the people they visit
do that...
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