From: owner-ammf-digest@smoe.org (alt.music.moxy-fruvous digest) To: ammf-digest@smoe.org Subject: alt.music.moxy-fruvous digest V11 #4 Reply-To: ammf@fruvous.com Sender: owner-ammf-digest@smoe.org Errors-To: owner-ammf-digest@smoe.org Precedence: bulk alt.music.moxy-fruvous digest Monday, January 8 2007 Volume 11 : Number 004 Today's Subjects: ----------------- *^*^*^*^8=====> Sexy Bikini Video Downloads <=====8*^*^*^*^*^* ["Mr.Wi] I selling Rolexes . Do you want? xuv ["Jamaal L. Hankins" ] Rolexes for sale..Cheap! j6w ["Osvaldo Fulton" ] Do you want Rolex? Or BVLGARI watch? 8kvm ["Zachary Beltran" Subject: *^*^*^*^8=====> Sexy Bikini Video Downloads <=====8*^*^*^*^*^* *^*^*^*^ Sexy Bikini Video Downloads *^*^*^*^*^* Amazing these girls Get naked fast! ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 08 Jan 2007 04:00:08 +0000 From: "Jamaal L. Hankins" Subject: I selling Rolexes . Do you want? xuv http://retingg.com At Prestige Replica, we specialize in the sales of brand name quality replica timepieces, at some of the lowest prices possible. take a moment to select ur chice With our large selection of watches you can be sure to find that perfect timepiece that will suit you best http://retingg.com Best Regards Mary Cassidy ammi-faq-request@fruvous.com wrote: > Gift? Buy Rolex - Overnight Shipping g9clfb3cgz- ------------------------------ Date: 8 Jan 2007 10:28:39 GMT From: MI5Victim@mi5.gov.uk Subject: MI5 Persecution: Security Service Tribunal Denies Security Service Tribunal Denies In June 1997 the Security Service Tribunal wrote to me regarding the complaint I had brought against MI5 in February. They say, The Security Service Tribunal have now investigated your complaint and have asked me to inform you that no determination in your favour has been made on your complaint. Again, I do not believe their denials. I think MI5 *has* taken the action against me as described, and is refusing to admit what they have done. To the best of my knowledge, the Security Service Tribunal has *never* found in favour of a complainant. This tends to strongly suggest that MI5 lies on a routine basis, and the Tribunal can't fulfil its functions in the face of Security Service falsehoods. 169 ------------------------------ Date: 8 Jan 2007 10:36:07 GMT From: MI5Victim@mi5.gov.uk Subject: MI5 Persecution: Security Service Tribunal Denies Security Service Tribunal Denies In June 1997 the Security Service Tribunal wrote to me regarding the complaint I had brought against MI5 in February. They say, The Security Service Tribunal have now investigated your complaint and have asked me to inform you that no determination in your favour has been made on your complaint. Again, I do not believe their denials. I think MI5 *has* taken the action against me as described, and is refusing to admit what they have done. To the best of my knowledge, the Security Service Tribunal has *never* found in favour of a complainant. This tends to strongly suggest that MI5 lies on a routine basis, and the Tribunal can't fulfil its functions in the face of Security Service falsehoods. 169 ------------------------------ Date: 8 Jan 2007 11:48:06 GMT From: MI5Victim@mi5.gov.uk Subject: MI5 Persecution: Dirk Gently on the Toronto Case Dirk was on the West Coast when he got the call. An old friend at the Toronto police department thought he would like to fly up and take a look at a homicide which had occurred the previous evening. He decided to skip the last day at the World Holistics conference and take the next plane out of San Francisco. The flight was bad; Dirk had been hit on the back of the head by the Newspaper trolley, the drinks trolley, the dinner trolley and now the gift trolley. When the hostesses werent trying to tear his arm off they pestered him to stop leaning into the aisle - - ignoring the fact that the guy next to him was taking up one and a half seats. Air Canada used to be the flight which was so good you just didnt wanna get off - on this occasion Dirk would be glad to see the back of the plane and the over sized alternative comedian wedged into the window seat. After breathing in a couple of lungfulls of crisp Canadian air Dirk took a taxi into town. There was a small group of demonstrators outside the MacDonalds and the taxi driver insisted on stopping on the opposite side of the street. Dont Eat Meat the placards read and the demonstrators chanted. A couple of policemen where stopping the crowd entering the restaurant itself - one held up his arm and challenged Dirk. A wave of the fax he had been sent and the policeman pushed open the door. There were few customers in the restaurant. Not surprising really with a demonstration going on outside, half the dining area roped off with tape and a dead body seated at one of the tables. Mr Gently sir the officer in charge called out as he peeled one end of the tape off a column We were told not to touch anything til you got here. The body of the man slumped awkwardly in a chair. Then even a dead body would start getting uncomfortable in a MacDonalds chair after twenty minutes - and this one had been there for at least eighteen hours. Two back legs and the tail of a cat hung out of the mans gaping mouth. Dirk turned to the officer, I suppose you are going to tell me this is the darndest thing you ever saw? Aint this the darnd.... The officer seemed annoyed that Dirk had second guessed him. Were removing the body in a few minutes, so if you can get through as quick as possible Many people eat cats in fast food restaurants? Dirk asked and without waiting for an answer leant over the table to pick up an untouched burger. And whats this? he asked waving it in front of the officers face. Its a Vedgie Burger The waitress, who was cleaning one of the adjacent tables, shouted across. She walked over to Dirk. We started doing them because of that lot out there she nodded towards the protesters who were pressing there faces against the windows Theyre called Linda McCartney Vedgie burgers - ever heard of them? Dirk suddenly felt faint, perhaps a combination of hunger and jet lag. This is deja vu all over again he thought to himself. He glanced at policemen - at the badge on his shoulder OPD but this wasnt Ontario this was Toronto. OPD - Officially Pronounced Dead. It dawned on Dirk what was happening, he knew what he would see if he looked out of the window. Sure enough, there it was, the Volkswagen Beetle parked across the road - number plate 28IF - 28 IF Paul McCartney had lived. And amongst the lyrics of the song blaring out into the restaurant he could pick out the words I buried Paul. Now it was though Dirk was viewing the whole scene though a TV screen. This was conspiracy. Not -a- conspiracy, or -the- conspiracy, but just plain conspiracy. You look faint - are you OK mister? The waitress asked. Dirk shook his head Probably a bit hungry Then to economise on dialogue took out a pack of cigarettes and held it out towards the girl. She was about to take one but Dirk snatched the pack away, held it up to his mouth and drew out two cigarettes. He lit both then passed one of them to the girl. It was the closest he had come to a sexual encounter in three months. Want a Burger? the waitress asked. Dirk looked down at the Vedgie Burger on the table. No thanks - just a plate of fries The waitress walked away and Dirk looked around the room. Apart from a family seated in the far corner there was only one other person in the restaurant - and he wasnt eating. The guy was about mid twenties and had straggling, shoulder length hair. On the table in front of him were lots of pieces of paper cut into squares. Every so often he would pick up a camcorder and pan it around the room and then, when he was finished, speak into a microphone which was attached to a tape recorder. Dirk walked over to where the man was sitting. The small pieces of paper had paragraphs of text written on them and were stuck to the top of table with blobs of mustard. Lines had been drawn, some solid some dotted, on the table top with a marker pen. The lines ran from one piece of paper to another. What are the lines for? Dirk asked, realising straight away that What the hell are you doing? would be more appropriate. You see The man replied nervously The dotted lines are weak links and the solid lines are strong links. The dotted lines are things which are happening in the rest of the world and the solid lines are things which are happening to me. Now you see I draw over a dotted line, replacing it with a solid line, when I can link something back to me. Like this The pen squeaked over the Formica and before Dirk could interrupt the man added. You see I lost my short term memory and, as a consequence have a very short attention span. I write down, record and film everything then put it all together later So Dirk interrupted. You filmed what happened here? Yes, yes, its here on this tape The man pushed the cassette across the table. On the label the words Grassy Knoll had been crossed through and replaced with MacDonalds. Suddenly the man sprung from his seat. Dirk turned and saw that the body was being removed on a stretcher. As it passed the man picked a small object off the edge of the stretcher itself. This is important he said, laying a blood stained bullet on one of the small pieces of paper on the table. Suddenly the room was filled with a deafening throbbing sound as a Black Helicopter landed in the street outside. Two men in United Nations uniforms got out and collected the stretcher. Back at the table the long haired man was replacing all the dotted lines with solid ones. Dirk panicked and began to walk backwards at some speed. Barging through the swing doors he stumbled into the kitchen, tripped and felt himself sink slowly into a large vat. The guys fallen into the batter Dick heard someone shout before he sunk below the surface. He came to sitting in a chair with the batter solidifying all over his body. He surveyed the room through two eye-holes someone had cut. Suddenly the chair on which he was sitting was picked up carried through the restaurant and out of the building. As the chair was being lifted and put into the back of a van, Dirk caught a glimpse of the waitress following him. Your fries mister, your plate o.... The doors of the van shut and Dirk tried desperately to steady himself as it sped across town. Eventually the doors flew open and Dirk was flung into the road at which point the solidified batter shattered and set him free. Standing up he found himself outside the international departures terminal of Toronto airport. In the departure lounge Dirk had time to reflect on the days events. He had got caught up in the conspiracy theories and the haphazard welding together of pieces of irrelevant information. It was time to catch the person who was operating the bizarre cognitive engine which appeared in front of him like a fairground mirror, distorting any flaw it could find in his own, fragile, map of the real world. Dirk leant into the aisle of the plane as it took off for London. The oversized person next to him swung his arms violently as he complained about every thing from the supper in a plastic tray to the state of British politics. With a shaven head and a badly fitting suit the man looked as though he could have worked behind the reception desk of the Kremlin. However when he spoke he did so in a Liverpudlian accent. Me I blame the Con-serv-a-tive government, me. The Tour-rees. That-cher. Me. They need a good kicking He jerked his feet forward and struck the seat in front with his Doc Martins. With these. Me Doc Martins. Doctor Martins, Doctor Martins, Doctor Martins Booots! The phrase was now being sung over and over again as the man writhed in his seat and clicked his fingers. Dirk looked down at the boots and thought of the reaction most people used to deal with the paranoids at the end of the wire. A nice quick kick. Oi nutter - get some therapy. This is the easy way out and perhaps the safest. After all there you are sat, alone, in front of the screen. No body language between you some paranoid. No way of telling if he really is some gibbering psycho. Look at it too long and you be drawn in. Fall into the tangled database of weird links with him. Who knows he may be watching you, reassembling and linking your experiences with his. How sure are you of you own cognitive threads. After all cognition is only a bug fix for a neurological system which was designed in a hurry - its abused by everyone from politicians to advertisers. If people really can convince each other that a bottle of washing up liquid is as exciting as an orgasm using just television God knows what they can do with a computer. Better to avoid the risk. A swift kick. After all if youre Homophobic you put the boot in because you are scared of any ambiguity in your own sexuality - - why not be Nutterphobic as well. Although Dirk would have liked to devoted time to tracking the culprit down he decided to let it rest. The Internet changed over the next twenty odd years. A lot of the people who used it went out and got lives. And those who already had lives burnt them away. The number of users had dwindled after someone had invented a C++ program, with truth as a variable, to deal handle politics and government. Dirk had already retired from finding old ladies cats with the help of obscure science when he got another call from Toronto. It was 4th March 2025 when he booked onto the Air Canada flight from Heathrow. The silver haired woman in the seat next to him painted bright red lipstick around her mouth. Of course it was no surprise to be offered the job after Claire Raynor retired she sneered After all I used to be a psychiatric nurse... Now if Blokes had periods they would understand... By chance the taxi ride to Toronto mental hospital took him past the MacDonalds - where the whole thing had started. Of course it was barely recognisable having become a Church Of Scientology Vedgie Bar. Police in riot gear kept the two sets of demonstrators apart. Dirk didnt really know what to expect when he got to the hospital. The girl at the reception desk directed him to a row of chairs in a wide well lit corridor. There was a strong smell of disinfectant, the furniture and the carpets were immaculately clean and behind the rows of teak veneer doors the nutters were all safely locked away. For some reason Dirk started thinking about CompuServe forums. A tall blond woman in a white coat approached. Mr Gentle, I assume Yes Dirk replied shaking her by the hand. Youre the nurse who... Doctor She interrupted, Doctor Killfile She led Dirk across the corridor towards one of the doors then stopped with her hand resting on the handle. Now you know about this person dont you? and after Dirk nodded she continued Dont tell him anything about yourself - dont let him get into you head. If he does hell screw it up The door opened to reveal a frail man sitting in from of a TV screen. He had a keyboard on his lap and next to the television was a computer screen. Dirk glanced at the walls of the room and remembered that his settee at home need upholstering. The nurse left the room and the man looked up So you come to my daughters wedding and ask me to kill a man he said in a dry cackling voice. Look he continued, pointing at the screen, I know that man. Theyre talking about me now - listen. The man stared at Dirk. Whats your name? Are you one of my friends from the Internet? - Are the lambs still screaming Dirk? Dirk, at first recoiled in horror, then felt a sense of anti climax. So this is what they hyped up to superstar status on the back of their own fears of madness. Dirk was reminded of the film A day on The Beach where a submarine had set off to search a post nuclear World to track down a signal coming from a remote military base - only to find it was being sent by a Coke bottle half balanced on a Morse tapper. Outside the room the nurse waited for him. Because his nicotine craving had returned - and to avoid an awkward piece of dialogue - Dirk turned to her and asked . Patch? Dirk took two nicotine patches from his wallet the first of which he stuck onto the inside of his arm. Stepping closer to Doctor Killfile he opened her white coat and slid his hand into the opening at the front of her dress. He pressed the patch onto her leg as close to the top of her inner thigh as he dare. She took a deep breath and then slowly breathed out. What Bogart could have done with these things Dirk thought to himself. Is he crazy? Dirk asked tilting his head back to towards the door. Who knows Doctor Killfile replied We let him type away. He sees something on the TV in the morning and it keeps him busy all day. What he types doesnt go anywhere it just stays on a mainframe in the basement. It can be read by anyone else in the building but thats it. We got them all in here conspiracy theorists, racists, nationalists. Theyve created a world within a world really... Her voice trailed away and she stared down the corridor for a while then added So long are two things are different neither will come to be in the other and so become at once both one and two. Dirk gave her a puzzled look You mean their brains are fried? Fried? Killfile smiled at Dirk No that was Plato. Then the smile fell from her face. You must remember, mister, plate o... 169 ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 8 Jan 2007 10:06:12 -0500 From: "Mag I. Grady" Subject: foreman And with Microsoft continuing to lower their costs, by the time they're = ready to launch this they won't even be taking that much of a hit. I certainly don't recall much discussion about sexual pleasure or = sexuality other than monogamy and marriage. Gain insight into the issues of tomorrow. The announcement comes two years after the software was released for = Windows and nearly as long since TiVo first promised it would be made = available to Mac users. Characters could also be much smarter and = craftier, as increased processing power boosts their artificial = intelligence. whether we're using a laptop, a PDA or a smart phone. This could bring about competition among the suppliers and in turn = reduce the cost of smart cards to benefit users. From their web site: WikiLeaks is developing an uncensorable version of = WikiPedia for untraceable mass document leaking and analysis. Am I correct that what you're saying is, "Give up on embryonic stem = cells, because Hitler did something similar, and they haven't provided = results" ? "This is going to be the only official Mac solution," said Adam = Fingerman, Roxio's director of product development. Developers Held = Liable for Software Bugs? How do I stop my friend from posting embarrassing videos of us on = YouTube? You go, Nanny Government, we love you! Later someone else found = that he could rub two sticks together, and he could make fire, and cook = food. Could you please provide some links for further information? Thus = far they have posted a single document on Somalia and and analysis = thereof. Speaking as a logical person, I don't understand the attacks on = embryonic stem cell research. The electricity-generation system can be modified to run on gasoline, = ethanol, diesel, biodiesel or even a fuel cell in the future, he said. = Theypresented a session on including Incident Handling andInformation = Security staff in a Software Security developmentmethodology. Remember, = if you will, that Hilter always couched his plans for euthanasia of the = imperfect or undesireable as the highest and most compassionate course = for humanity. [demime 0.97c-p1 removed an attachment of type image/gif which had a name of night table.gif] ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 08 Jan 2007 14:24:31 +0000 From: "Osvaldo Fulton" Subject: Rolexes for sale..Cheap! j6w Dear ammf@fruvous.com http://camineer.com At Prestige Replica, we specialize in the sales of brand name quality replica timepieces, at some of the lowest prices possible. take a moment to select ur chice With our large selection of watches you can be sure to find that perfect timepiece that will suit you best Thanks Mary Cassidy http://camineer.com/ ammf@fruvous.com wrote: > I selling Rolexes . Do you want? b404jp3etf- ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 8 Jan 2007 11:07:19 -0500 From: "ammf@fruvous.com" Subject: las vegas discount coupons [TABLE NOT SHOWN] ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 08 Jan 2007 18:43:23 +0000 From: "Zachary Beltran" Subject: Do you want Rolex? Or BVLGARI watch? 8kvm Dear ammf@fruvous.com http://camineer.com At Prestige Replica, we specialize in the sales of brand name quality replica timepieces, at some of the lowest prices possible. take a moment to select ur chice With our large selection of watches you can be sure to find that perfect timepiece that will suit you best Thanks Rebeca Cassidy http://camineer.com/ ammf@fruvous.com wrote: > Do you want Rolex? Or BVLGARI watch? p9vg6t2jrr- ------------------------------ Date: 8 Jan 2007 20:07:44 GMT From: MI5Victim@mi5.gov.uk Subject: MI5 Persecution: Dirk Gently on the Toronto Case Dirk was on the West Coast when he got the call. An old friend at the Toronto police department thought he would like to fly up and take a look at a homicide which had occurred the previous evening. He decided to skip the last day at the World Holistics conference and take the next plane out of San Francisco. The flight was bad; Dirk had been hit on the back of the head by the Newspaper trolley, the drinks trolley, the dinner trolley and now the gift trolley. When the hostesses werent trying to tear his arm off they pestered him to stop leaning into the aisle - - ignoring the fact that the guy next to him was taking up one and a half seats. Air Canada used to be the flight which was so good you just didnt wanna get off - on this occasion Dirk would be glad to see the back of the plane and the over sized alternative comedian wedged into the window seat. After breathing in a couple of lungfulls of crisp Canadian air Dirk took a taxi into town. There was a small group of demonstrators outside the MacDonalds and the taxi driver insisted on stopping on the opposite side of the street. Dont Eat Meat the placards read and the demonstrators chanted. A couple of policemen where stopping the crowd entering the restaurant itself - one held up his arm and challenged Dirk. A wave of the fax he had been sent and the policeman pushed open the door. There were few customers in the restaurant. Not surprising really with a demonstration going on outside, half the dining area roped off with tape and a dead body seated at one of the tables. Mr Gently sir the officer in charge called out as he peeled one end of the tape off a column We were told not to touch anything til you got here. The body of the man slumped awkwardly in a chair. Then even a dead body would start getting uncomfortable in a MacDonalds chair after twenty minutes - and this one had been there for at least eighteen hours. Two back legs and the tail of a cat hung out of the mans gaping mouth. Dirk turned to the officer, I suppose you are going to tell me this is the darndest thing you ever saw? Aint this the darnd.... The officer seemed annoyed that Dirk had second guessed him. Were removing the body in a few minutes, so if you can get through as quick as possible Many people eat cats in fast food restaurants? Dirk asked and without waiting for an answer leant over the table to pick up an untouched burger. And whats this? he asked waving it in front of the officers face. Its a Vedgie Burger The waitress, who was cleaning one of the adjacent tables, shouted across. She walked over to Dirk. We started doing them because of that lot out there she nodded towards the protesters who were pressing there faces against the windows Theyre called Linda McCartney Vedgie burgers - ever heard of them? Dirk suddenly felt faint, perhaps a combination of hunger and jet lag. This is deja vu all over again he thought to himself. He glanced at policemen - at the badge on his shoulder OPD but this wasnt Ontario this was Toronto. OPD - Officially Pronounced Dead. It dawned on Dirk what was happening, he knew what he would see if he looked out of the window. Sure enough, there it was, the Volkswagen Beetle parked across the road - number plate 28IF - 28 IF Paul McCartney had lived. And amongst the lyrics of the song blaring out into the restaurant he could pick out the words I buried Paul. Now it was though Dirk was viewing the whole scene though a TV screen. This was conspiracy. Not -a- conspiracy, or -the- conspiracy, but just plain conspiracy. You look faint - are you OK mister? The waitress asked. Dirk shook his head Probably a bit hungry Then to economise on dialogue took out a pack of cigarettes and held it out towards the girl. She was about to take one but Dirk snatched the pack away, held it up to his mouth and drew out two cigarettes. He lit both then passed one of them to the girl. It was the closest he had come to a sexual encounter in three months. Want a Burger? the waitress asked. Dirk looked down at the Vedgie Burger on the table. No thanks - just a plate of fries The waitress walked away and Dirk looked around the room. Apart from a family seated in the far corner there was only one other person in the restaurant - and he wasnt eating. The guy was about mid twenties and had straggling, shoulder length hair. On the table in front of him were lots of pieces of paper cut into squares. Every so often he would pick up a camcorder and pan it around the room and then, when he was finished, speak into a microphone which was attached to a tape recorder. Dirk walked over to where the man was sitting. The small pieces of paper had paragraphs of text written on them and were stuck to the top of table with blobs of mustard. Lines had been drawn, some solid some dotted, on the table top with a marker pen. The lines ran from one piece of paper to another. What are the lines for? Dirk asked, realising straight away that What the hell are you doing? would be more appropriate. You see The man replied nervously The dotted lines are weak links and the solid lines are strong links. The dotted lines are things which are happening in the rest of the world and the solid lines are things which are happening to me. Now you see I draw over a dotted line, replacing it with a solid line, when I can link something back to me. Like this The pen squeaked over the Formica and before Dirk could interrupt the man added. You see I lost my short term memory and, as a consequence have a very short attention span. I write down, record and film everything then put it all together later So Dirk interrupted. You filmed what happened here? Yes, yes, its here on this tape The man pushed the cassette across the table. On the label the words Grassy Knoll had been crossed through and replaced with MacDonalds. Suddenly the man sprung from his seat. Dirk turned and saw that the body was being removed on a stretcher. As it passed the man picked a small object off the edge of the stretcher itself. This is important he said, laying a blood stained bullet on one of the small pieces of paper on the table. Suddenly the room was filled with a deafening throbbing sound as a Black Helicopter landed in the street outside. Two men in United Nations uniforms got out and collected the stretcher. Back at the table the long haired man was replacing all the dotted lines with solid ones. Dirk panicked and began to walk backwards at some speed. Barging through the swing doors he stumbled into the kitchen, tripped and felt himself sink slowly into a large vat. The guys fallen into the batter Dick heard someone shout before he sunk below the surface. He came to sitting in a chair with the batter solidifying all over his body. He surveyed the room through two eye-holes someone had cut. Suddenly the chair on which he was sitting was picked up carried through the restaurant and out of the building. As the chair was being lifted and put into the back of a van, Dirk caught a glimpse of the waitress following him. Your fries mister, your plate o.... The doors of the van shut and Dirk tried desperately to steady himself as it sped across town. Eventually the doors flew open and Dirk was flung into the road at which point the solidified batter shattered and set him free. Standing up he found himself outside the international departures terminal of Toronto airport. In the departure lounge Dirk had time to reflect on the days events. He had got caught up in the conspiracy theories and the haphazard welding together of pieces of irrelevant information. It was time to catch the person who was operating the bizarre cognitive engine which appeared in front of him like a fairground mirror, distorting any flaw it could find in his own, fragile, map of the real world. Dirk leant into the aisle of the plane as it took off for London. The oversized person next to him swung his arms violently as he complained about every thing from the supper in a plastic tray to the state of British politics. With a shaven head and a badly fitting suit the man looked as though he could have worked behind the reception desk of the Kremlin. However when he spoke he did so in a Liverpudlian accent. Me I blame the Con-serv-a-tive government, me. The Tour-rees. That-cher. Me. They need a good kicking He jerked his feet forward and struck the seat in front with his Doc Martins. With these. Me Doc Martins. Doctor Martins, Doctor Martins, Doctor Martins Booots! The phrase was now being sung over and over again as the man writhed in his seat and clicked his fingers. Dirk looked down at the boots and thought of the reaction most people used to deal with the paranoids at the end of the wire. A nice quick kick. Oi nutter - get some therapy. This is the easy way out and perhaps the safest. After all there you are sat, alone, in front of the screen. No body language between you some paranoid. No way of telling if he really is some gibbering psycho. Look at it too long and you be drawn in. Fall into the tangled database of weird links with him. Who knows he may be watching you, reassembling and linking your experiences with his. How sure are you of you own cognitive threads. After all cognition is only a bug fix for a neurological system which was designed in a hurry - its abused by everyone from politicians to advertisers. If people really can convince each other that a bottle of washing up liquid is as exciting as an orgasm using just television God knows what they can do with a computer. Better to avoid the risk. A swift kick. After all if youre Homophobic you put the boot in because you are scared of any ambiguity in your own sexuality - - why not be Nutterphobic as well. Although Dirk would have liked to devoted time to tracking the culprit down he decided to let it rest. The Internet changed over the next twenty odd years. A lot of the people who used it went out and got lives. And those who already had lives burnt them away. The number of users had dwindled after someone had invented a C++ program, with truth as a variable, to deal handle politics and government. Dirk had already retired from finding old ladies cats with the help of obscure science when he got another call from Toronto. It was 4th March 2025 when he booked onto the Air Canada flight from Heathrow. The silver haired woman in the seat next to him painted bright red lipstick around her mouth. Of course it was no surprise to be offered the job after Claire Raynor retired she sneered After all I used to be a psychiatric nurse... Now if Blokes had periods they would understand... By chance the taxi ride to Toronto mental hospital took him past the MacDonalds - where the whole thing had started. Of course it was barely recognisable having become a Church Of Scientology Vedgie Bar. Police in riot gear kept the two sets of demonstrators apart. Dirk didnt really know what to expect when he got to the hospital. The girl at the reception desk directed him to a row of chairs in a wide well lit corridor. There was a strong smell of disinfectant, the furniture and the carpets were immaculately clean and behind the rows of teak veneer doors the nutters were all safely locked away. For some reason Dirk started thinking about CompuServe forums. A tall blond woman in a white coat approached. Mr Gentle, I assume Yes Dirk replied shaking her by the hand. Youre the nurse who... Doctor She interrupted, Doctor Killfile She led Dirk across the corridor towards one of the doors then stopped with her hand resting on the handle. Now you know about this person dont you? and after Dirk nodded she continued Dont tell him anything about yourself - dont let him get into you head. If he does hell screw it up The door opened to reveal a frail man sitting in from of a TV screen. He had a keyboard on his lap and next to the television was a computer screen. Dirk glanced at the walls of the room and remembered that his settee at home need upholstering. The nurse left the room and the man looked up So you come to my daughters wedding and ask me to kill a man he said in a dry cackling voice. Look he continued, pointing at the screen, I know that man. Theyre talking about me now - listen. The man stared at Dirk. Whats your name? Are you one of my friends from the Internet? - Are the lambs still screaming Dirk? Dirk, at first recoiled in horror, then felt a sense of anti climax. So this is what they hyped up to superstar status on the back of their own fears of madness. Dirk was reminded of the film A day on The Beach where a submarine had set off to search a post nuclear World to track down a signal coming from a remote military base - only to find it was being sent by a Coke bottle half balanced on a Morse tapper. Outside the room the nurse waited for him. Because his nicotine craving had returned - and to avoid an awkward piece of dialogue - Dirk turned to her and asked . Patch? Dirk took two nicotine patches from his wallet the first of which he stuck onto the inside of his arm. Stepping closer to Doctor Killfile he opened her white coat and slid his hand into the opening at the front of her dress. He pressed the patch onto her leg as close to the top of her inner thigh as he dare. She took a deep breath and then slowly breathed out. What Bogart could have done with these things Dirk thought to himself. Is he crazy? Dirk asked tilting his head back to towards the door. Who knows Doctor Killfile replied We let him type away. He sees something on the TV in the morning and it keeps him busy all day. What he types doesnt go anywhere it just stays on a mainframe in the basement. It can be read by anyone else in the building but thats it. We got them all in here conspiracy theorists, racists, nationalists. Theyve created a world within a world really... Her voice trailed away and she stared down the corridor for a while then added So long are two things are different neither will come to be in the other and so become at once both one and two. Dirk gave her a puzzled look You mean their brains are fried? Fried? Killfile smiled at Dirk No that was Plato. Then the smile fell from her face. You must remember, mister, plate o... 169 ------------------------------ End of alt.music.moxy-fruvous digest V11 #4 *******************************************