THE PROOF OF THE PUDDING...
(begun Monday 21st March at 6.45am..)
....is indeed in the eating, though odds are, you wouldn't care much for the dishes we're being fed....*waves to Dominic, who's doing guard duty in my gmail account this morning....
I'd climbed up to the top to fetch the Times, before I remembered...
Happy Human Rights Day, Herr Doktor Sutcliffe!!
Many of your chosen targets will be spending this public holiday at home, so what better chance will your IT monkeys get, to fatten up those Leverage files you're sitting on? A few more choice and very personal remarks uttered carelessly to their wives or to a friend who's visiting, and our City Manager and the Criminals he's aligned to, will continue to dance ten steps ahead of what passes for the Law...*winks at the Molestor...
The storm I mentioned in Ripe for the Plucking, never did get as far as the Zone, though the lightning played down south for hours..I guess it could've been the Visitors back early, to check on our progress?
I'm betting they're insisting that to avoid facing total extinction, it's necessary we start building up a tolerance to massive amounts of radiation, and only then can we survive what's coming? About right, Mikey dear?
It's the site of your larnie beachfront apartment that has me now thinking you just might be a Communicator, but hell, who knows?
I was taking one of several brief naps on Saturday afternoon, (not long before my system went into shock for the second time in two days), and I dreamed a fantabulous dream... The daytime dreams are disturbed by daily sounds, and therefore generally way more colourful than those experienced after dark.
A solid phalanx of vehicles was moving slowly down Berea Road, on the wrong side of the road, mind you.. I was jammed into the back of a big black banger with a merry band of people that I didn't know from Adam.. At some point, before we got to Scotty's Dog Parlour, I bailed out to look for someone... Who, I've no idea...
Anyways, I couldn't find them, and I managed to hitch a ride on the back of a big white flatbed truck, as we rejoined the hundreds heading down towards the beachfront....
Next thing, we were parked in the parking lot where Rachel Finlayson used to be, and there was water right up the sides of the truck and filling the whole parking lot and surrounds... Everyone was happy, and watching the skies over behind Howard College, as the lights played in the towering cumulus clouds... What a spectacular show it was, as massive bubbles of light swelled and burst repeatedly, across the clouds...
I remember that the Baths had been replaced by an open-fronted shell of a building covered with attractive graffiti, and a guy with dreads and a loud Hawaiian shirt sat inside watching the proceedings..*blinks...
I'd climbed up onto the cab of the truck and was about to dive into the clear, inviting water, when I woke up.. Bummer...
Nothing portentious about any of that.. It's that big old moon's proximity that will have flooded the beachfront in my dream, and the silent lightshow could've been the Visitors showing off, or just a rather amazing electrical storm..*shrugs..
Wanna chat Mikey?
Want to plead your case and say that you're in touch with Higher Beings and merely following orders? The sweet irony of it is, that electing to tell the truth at last, would likely have you institutionalised before you could so much as increase our rates again..*falls over laughing..
OTOH of course, it's possible you were never deemed worthy of direct contact, but have been forced into service by someone who bothered to gather some grubby little details from your past, and create you a Leverage file, whose contents would make Joe Public's nose run copiously, were he privy to the gory details.. *winks..
Which is it to be Mike? Come whisper in my cancer-covered ear, and I'll not tell a soul.. If you were to trot out the former scenario, I'd ironically, be one of the very few who didn't insist that Town Hill be your next point of call...
To those hard-core SF fanboys and girls that hang out at the Recruitment Centre? All that I've struggled to tell you over the years has come to pass.. Why would I bullshit you now?
Godknows why I was allowed to see Them, as they mapped out the Project's route back in the nineties... Chances are, that even then they saw this Retard as a minor diversion, and had me roped in as the Village Idiot, designed to divert those disturbing little pricks of conscience that used to bother you all so... *grins..
Mission accomplished in that Department, hey Balliram? My inherent unpleasantness worked a treat, and with your assistance, there are now many that watch the deliberate physical destruction enacted in this tiny corner of the globe, without a flicker of pity or compassion... *teeth..
You do realise that it's not just a change in your tolerance to radiation that's taking place here, but your thought processes as well? Your 'being' is also getting re-arranged, if you will.. Atrocities that would have appalled the previous generation (that would be me), are now regarded as everyday, and accepted with few comments, if any...
Will the Seriously Concerned such as Karl Muller and the Part-Time Activist, be offered the opportunity to fit in to the New Order, or will they continue to be regarded as dangerous dissenters, and hounded by the pack? It's hoped that the Authors see them as well worthy of inclusion, and that ultimately they're afforded the respect they both deserve... In fact, I would hope that rpm and Cara are among the first to plead the case for their inclusion.. *stern...
It's now 7.55am, and I diligently report that stepping outside on this lovely morning, has both the fierce BackFire and the spinal ache disappearing magically, and I confess I battle to keep up with the whims of our Area Controller... *yawns...
Once inside the house, and they kick back in straight away.. *studies the Sadist...
Yesterday, I'd left my spare Nokia plugged into it's charger on the same jackpoint that had so overheated my CPF loaded phone.. Hours later, I gingerly removed the spare and found no trace of heat at all... You've got a Keeper there Earl, you sure have.. *cackles... A more nauseatingly destructive, needlessly cruel individual, it would be hard to find.. Perfect for the job!
Tuesday 22nd March at 3.55am
Anyone ever bothered to research our Earl? I've always maintained that one of the Druglord's main priorities would've been to have his IT Monkeys constantly trawling the net, to make sure any damaging details of his colourful past were removed...
He would've had to drop the slightly tawdry nick-name at the start of his make-over, for the reference to the Peerage is a dead give-away of his chosen profession..*winks... Nowadays he'll just be Michael Barnabas, whose worked his way up to mingle with the top echelons of our Government.. Good on yer, mate! *applauds...
(Though a rat dressed in peacock's feathers, is still a rat....)
Old habits die hard hey Earl, and when you were offered the chance back in the late nineties, to diversify and expand your business interests, you fell on it with delight..
After all, a large part of your Empire had already been built on the use of compliant Telkom employees at Overport Exchange, tapping into resident's fixed lines and then delivering the results to your doorstep? You don't get to keep ahead of the Law without advance information, right? *winks...
It's not like you really had to break sweat to morph into a legit businessman either.. I'm told you were always a good-looking boy, so you would've upgraded the attire accordingly, and begun attending St. Ann's, for starters... Some ostentatious favours to a few carefully chosen locals, and you were good to go...
Course, there was no ways you were going to give up your initial money-spinner, so you set about muddying the trail and creating hand-picked Lieutenants to manage your *coughs* less savoury activities...
To this day, I still firmly believe that you played your part in the SBV Heist, and that the bulk of the money was needed to ensure that the Zone was yours, and yours alone.. That you know every last detail of the slaughter of Attorney Sham and his family over in Morningside, and the reason that such a harsh message had to be sent to all the other Bankers guarding the Heist loot...
It was way more than the R31mil odd touted in the press and in books, was it not? I guess you could easily double the amount, and you'd be nearer the mark?
So ja - Your contacts at Telkom Overport were probably what first brought you to the ears of the Project Authors, and from there, it's history...
Right now, the sky's the limit, hey Earl? (geez, ain't that the truth, wrathex?) You and your carefully chosen minions, including the Sex-Offender and the Sadist, are now genuinely untouchable..*beams...
Stunning achievements by the likes of the honourable Hugh Glenister are merely a diversion, and won't change a thing.. The Visitors won't really give a rat's arse whether you're a criminal or not, in their rush to create a hardier, radiation-tolerant population..
I've said often enough how fortunate I feel to be around at this time of such momentous change, though I confess of late, it's getting harder to cling to that concept... *winces...
Never has the term adapt or die meant more, and my Area Controller is now single-mindedly hell-bent on proving this theory, one way or the other.. *nauseous...
Do I merely imagine the order given, to step it up a few notches, falling from the Telekom Agent's lips, or is that exactly where I sit right now? Long outgrown my funny factor, and now no more than an irritating pest, bent on revealing the darker side of our enforced evolution? *grins..
Enough.... Peace julle...
---oOo---
Tuesday 22nd March 2011 at 10.43am...
