Subject: Sister Corruption & Brother Big

From: Bob Allisat <[email-masked]>
Date: Thu, 18 Feb 1999 02:19:18 -0500 (EST)

The Dyson and Roberts ACRONYM show is begining to look
 more and more like some sort of cartoonish parody each
 and every day. "Sister Corruption & Brother Big" would
 be the working title for the project if I were writing
 it. I wouldn't have to improve much on the unreality of
 these very real events to milk maximal humour from this
 situation comedy of situation comedies. Nope. Just follow
 the bouncing balls as they pong from the ridiculous to
 the absurd and back again ad seemingly infinitum. The
 story thus far (for those among us who have had their
 net.conspiracy_kook-funny.bone dials turned way down)...

 Big companies get together behind extremely shiney, very
 expensive closed doors to express huge alarm some time in
 the year of their lord 1998 at the albeit and admitedly
 chaotic but certifiably democratic events also known as
 the Domain Wars or Wars of Internet Governance. The Big
 Boys unleash their once upon a time free wheeling cyber
 anarchist cowboys now erstwhile lap dog shareholders and
 Vice Presidents of same corporations (emphasis on vice)
 who also become alarmed at the potential loss of revenue
 and power they all face should the rambunctious, raucous
 and revolutionary New Guard become successful. Said a-hole
 net heavy shills of THE BOARD OF DIRECTORS begin pinching
 previously unsullied dear oldbie bearded friends cyber-ass
 ever more painfully into silence and abeyance, subsequently
 forcing teams of hitman attorneys, high priced lobby call
 boys and girls upon their ancient buddy and, once the guy
 croaks from all the massive pressure thereafter wheel free
 forcing enyone they were ever even remotely affiliated with
 to adopt their rather unsettling plans for world re-domination
 despite their own better anarcho-intellectual instincts.
 After all one has one's retirement to think of and a case of
 dog-food in some roach den crack hotel breathing in the
 hundred degree filth of painted over, boarded up windows
 while they scream in the hall between gun shots is no-one's
 idea of a great final internet access point. Meanwhile...
 back on the political farm... Billy and Al having successfully
 defended their pink blue chip asses from a Republican Watergate
 revenge reaming worthy of the Ayatollah advertantly drop the
 White Paper, high ground virtual hot potato ball right back
 into the fire running for their Real Politik lives at merely
 the thought of the level and intensity of heat our capitalist
 pig cyber cartelists mounted, launched and shoved up their
 noses ever so briefly amid the mayhem subsequently pretending
 it was all a Magaziner bad dream (poor Ira... first health,
 then the Internet! what a schmuck!). So, as the world turns
 the forces of evil, embodied by the later day wannabe hippie
 but actually corporatist cocksucker in jeans and sneakers
 ESTHER and our Navy Seal washout survivallist millenialism
 infested lunatic anuslicker MIKE with a bang of anonymous
 elf fucker dwarves rush about like right bloody marrionettes
 in their own whacko Punch and Judy show, installing their
 Junta of Eternally Undemocratic Light, Smoke and Mirrors
 whilst whacking up not on one another but upon we the citizens
 of the world over... in the name of the Commercial Father, the
 Multinational Son and the Conglomerate Holy Ghost as if their
 very lives freaking well depended upon it. And the wanker chorus
 instead of disengaging, launching their own counter-jihad
 and unleashing the rebollution comrade wanker moans and wanker
 groans and makes it's occaisional zinger joke and ribald mote
 while events on tragicomic-melodramatic-infotainment centre stage
 unfold in all of it's grossness, decadence, bile, vile and detail.
 Brought to you courtesy the Trilateral Commission or some such
 shadowy men from some other, parrallel, shadowy planet as the
 life of the people known as we unfolds in diametric opposition
 to all such heinous machinations and devious scheming makings
 to bring end to these egregious bastards as inevitable as it is
 unpredictable in terms of time, space, the Milky Way and all that
 rot, raving, riot, radicality so on an so forth that will ascend
 from the teeming unwashed I, for one, am so proud to be part of,
 anonymous and unknown, disreputable and human, so help me Gaia.

 Bob Allisat

 Free Community Network _ [email-masked]
 http://fcn.net _ http://fcn.net/allisat
 http://robin.fcn.net

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From: Bob Allisat <[email-masked]>
Date: Thu, 18 Feb 1999 02:19:18 -0500 (EST)

Bob Allisat