Teen fuck for cash
Mutation Conspiracy - various notes
Conspiracy theories are like assholes; everyone has I've thought up hundreds, nurtured thousands more... Here is the state of my in the year 2001. not saying they are right or wrong, just random ponderings in a brief breath of life...
A debate as old as time itself: Where did man come from? The evolutionists believe we're from apes, but we have no proof. Where is the missing link from monkey to man? The creationists believe that we came from God, Adam and Eve and such and such. But here is something newer on the block to shock both sides and put a wedge right down the middle: Earth is the victim of a drive-by rape.
To think that Earth is the only planet in our galaxy to sustain life is selfish. Maybe some partying aliens were flying by our planet, stopped to take a piss and saw some silver back gorillas, raped 'em and tweaked the DNA code; hence, man was born. Obviously something happened a million years ago to give humans language and opposing thumbs, as well as make us think and walk upright. The divine mutation happened and we are a result of it. I would like someone to prove it wrong.
Showcased as the ultimate learning portal, this computer age drivel has run dry. From selling your demographic breakdown to marketeers to seeing people get killed, it's all at your fingertips. They are the real Big Brother. While you are logging on, they own you, your thoughts, and your soul-buy, buy, die. Its veiled coolness proves addictive. "Oh, you don't know jibberjabber.com? Well, you're cut."
"Your DSL can't download my fuck-file? How uncool." Better get trendy, pronto. Remember this when you log on: You are just another log on the fire of the apocalypse. While sitting there happy as a clam at your lumbar-supported fantasy throne, you're not out robbing banks, burning churches, or making bombs. Eventually, this technology will destroy all spirit of individuality.
The last of the buffalo. Not busted backyard pools; not shitty skateparks with scooters, bladers, helmets, and pad nannies; not big sets of stairs with poachers everywhere. We're talking dirt roads, rafts, rope, knives-fuckin' the real mission. To stand in a whopper is like being alone in an auditorium as a kid, scary. but amazing. The sound echo; the immense speed; the immeasurable danger; but hey, get some before you get in the hole. They're out there. Find one and wear it as a badge of honor. As my dead friend Curtis would say, "What you got?"
The ultimate power symbol. The Egyptians took thousands of years to build them. They have the respect of all successful marketing strategies -- you want to be on top of the pinnacle while your minions slave incessantly below to make you rich. Anyway, we've all heard of what are known as pyramid schemes. You get 10 people to sell junk for you while you get rich; think chain letters. And here's the kicker: Take one of those measly dollar bills out of your pocket and look at what's printed there. A pyramid; universal, absolute truth. Be your own pyramid. Your brain is the tip, your body is the foundation.
As it's going now, cash will soon be a thing of the past. Credit is what the government wants so that they can monitor what you have and how you spend it. The stigma that only drug dealers have cash is propaganda so people that pay with it have to defend themselves. ATM machines give cash but acquire interest on your transactions. Instead of paying once, you pay twice and the deeper you get in the hole, the more they control you.
Slot machines give you "credit." People pay for chips and sodas with debit cards that have interest rates. Direct deposit makes seeing cash that much more difficult. And weirder, it costs a three dollar surcharge when you pay cash for your phone bill; this evil cycle ends with interest, debt, and bankruptcy. I like money in my pocket and paying in full so that no one has a record of my spending habits and consumer drift. Life without cash is on the horizon, but always know where you stand in line or on the phone with the bank.
Holidays are as old as, the hills. Until 1991, April 19th was just another Spring day. But after the FBI killed white separatist Randy Weaver's wife and son, the bubbling under current of people-versus-the-government was brought into public view. The next year, the Branch Davidian Compound in Waco, TX was firebombed by the FBI, with somewhere in the neighborhood of 80 people killed as a result. The militant militias and fringe elements were outraged.
One such ex-soldier, disillusioned with America and its policies, decided to get revenge. His name was Timothy McVeigh. Heavily armed and mad as hell, he plotted his own payback to kill as many FBI and ATF agents as possible in retaliation for their gross misuse of power. His target? Three years to the very day, the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City. He detonated a 7,000 pound fertilizer bomb outside the front door and in an instant, 168 people were vaporized. This act served as a wake-up call to all government officials, saying that everything is not so great in "The Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave." Radical yes, but it put the government on alert and let them know that some people are not above killing innocent children to prove a point; that even the most powerful nation in the world should and could be accountable for its mistakes and blunders. April 19th is a date on which a single man brought the country to its knees. Right or wrong, Tim McVeigh scared the hell out of all ar ms of the federal government.
Terrorists are not turban-wearing suicide bombers; they could be the kid next door. Making Tim a martyr for the cause will undoubtedly lead to a new breed who have an even deeper disdain for law enforcement and its judicial system. On the 19th-this day-every time one passes without incident, the FBI wipes its sweaty brow. But it will happen again.
THE MOON LANDING
The space race was the big hype in the '60s. The US or the Russians were going to be the first on the moon. Lies. Wasting hundreds of millions of dollars, we faked the ultimate non-war. Thoughts to ponder! If we went there, how come we don't go back anymore? Where is the wind to blow the US flag in the famous photo? Can you see stars in outer space? Why hasn't MTV or Coors Lite made a beach house up there? That alone is proof. MTV Real World The Moon, "Your rules don't apply here." Why is Area 51 in New Mexico off limits? It's where they filmed the whole shebang; they don't want tourists posing on "the moon." Where is the crater? There are no films showing the immediate landing. NASA is run by Hollywood. Besides, the shadows are all wrong.
It's hard to explain what Thrasher means; it's so many things to me. It is a job and it is adventure. What it isn't is a lot easier. We exist because we have to; the voice of reason and choice. We are not teen marketing wizards, Madison Avenue shirts, or even computer geniuses. We are skaters who call 'em as we see 'em; straight, no chaser. We swear, spit, yell, fart, crash, burn, and die for this thing that is bigger than all of us.
I am proud to be part of this mission. As I've said in the past, where we are going, no one's ever been there before. And if you asked me to explain Thrasher in two words: Fuck Off. As for the rest, they know. Deep down inside, they do.
COPYRIGHT 2001 High Speed Productions, Inc
COPYRIGHT 2001 Gale Group