Stuck in Folsom prison, listening to that train pass by
My favorite writer among the bank of writers we have here is Greg. Greg is absolutely batshit nutso and I love it. He's about fifty years old and he is a veteran of the newspaper scene. He started out as a copyeditor at some small newspaper in Mass. and he's done everything from typesetting to reporting--he's done it all.
One of the first things I noticed about Greg was how really red his nose was. It's a really veiny nose with a deep red tint to it and it betrayed him to me immediately. I've seen that sort of nose on plenty of the old farmers in Melrose. That's the nose of a true alcoholic.
My suspicions were confrimed when he started telling me stories about working in the newspaper business and just random anecdotes from his life. About every story he's ever told me has at least included booze or drinking as a minor character, or subplot. And he loves to tell stories.
I've missed Greg the last couple weeks because he took off suddenly on vacation and didn't really tell anyone what he was doing. It was really strange, but Greg is kind of a strange guy so I just tried to imagine what kinds of things he might be doing. My first thought was that he could be a sort of Indiana Jones and he was off in Bulgaria hunting for treasure. I recently read that there are tombs in Bulgaria, and the surrounding area, that still contain treasure from two thousand years ago and earlier. I imagined that Greg was trying to work his way into one of the still-intact tombs to find his retirement in the form of gold rings and armor.
Probably could have guessed that he was doing something less kickass and more...drunk.
So I got back from lunch and I'm stopping in the bathroom and who should be in there but Greg. I said hello and asked him where the heck he'd been, which was a big mistake. Greg likes to talk, and he doesn't really tell simple stories, he likes to branch off into all sorts of related topics and circle back around until he finally gets to the point. I usually don't mind because it's generally pretty interesting, but I was standing next to the urinals in the bathroom while he related a long tale about how he found his biological parents.
It turns out Greg was not hunting for treasure in Bulgaria. Instead, he was paying his last respects to his recently deceased mother. He had tracked her down many years ago and had got to know the family pretty well. It didn't sound like they were close, but they kept in touch.
A little side story he told me was about how his biological father died. Before he was able to track his bio-family down, his father was accidently killed in a moving accident. The oldest son was behind the wheel of the moving truck and pushed the gas instead of the brake. Ouch.
Despite the lack of a father figure, Greg's bio-mother was able to raise ten children to adulthood. It doesn't sound like it was easy for her and the children were very appreciative of all she had done for them. In turn, they were very mournful in her passing. And they must have been Irish.
Greg finished his story by telling about the roast after the funeral. Considering how many children she had, you can imagine how many guests were at this roast. Aside from the children and grandchildren there were the extended family and friends. And they all must have been Irish. Greg said he hadn't seen so many drunk people in one place since he went to Boston for St. Patrick's day.
He told me all of this while I stood next to the urinals, waiting to pee. I was really happy when that story ended. He could have at least had something interesting to tell me, like how he was hunting for treasure in Bulgaria.
__________________________
My mom called me yesterday and told me that I'd got a strange letter in the mail. She said it was really long, so she couldn't read it all to me, but she wanted to read a few little snippets.
It was from some guy claiming to be a member of a secret society. He wanted to assure me that this was not a mass-mailing, nor a solicitation for some product. According to the letter, I had been chosen by an elite team of screeners to be a part of their secret society. The letter assured me that I would be very flattered if I knew who those screeners were and the writer really wished that he could tell me, but it was as secret.
That probably would have been enough for me, because you know anytime you get a letter that says, "This is not a mass-mailing or a solicitiation" then it's a mass-mailing and a solicitation. I told my mom to throw it away. "Hold on" she said, "you've got to hear the rest of this."
This secret society wanted to send me a free book. They claimed I was about to enter the 2nd cycle of growth, or some bullshit like that, and the information in this book would help me to really grow during this important time. My mom said they talked about how I could control people's minds and be financially and socially successful beyond my comprehension.
Blah, blah, blah...
The information in this secret book (a book so secret that I found an online version) would tell me how I could do all this cool stuff. The book was found (not written, but found) by Dr. Frank R. Wallace. Dr. Wallace was given the book by some successful gambler who he met in a casino. He never got the gambler's name, but he was told that this book was over 2,300 years old and contained the secrets to success on every level.
So after hearing all of this I decided to Google Dr. Frank R. Wallace. That led me to all kinds of interesting stuff about him, his book, and his organization called Neo-Tech.
The wikipedia article on Neo-Tech pretty much says it all.
These guys are crazy. And not fun-crazy either. This is a full-blown world domination, cackle maniacally, living inside a hollowed-out volcano and ordering around henchmen crazy. This is Batman-villain crazy.
These guys are like scientology without the pretense of religion. They tell you exactly what they're agenda is. They want to brainwash themselves (brainwash isn't exctly the correct term, but the methods are similar and I don't want to try to explain neuro-linguistic programming) until they're basically superhuman, then they want to upload their consciousness onto a computer and be immortal. After which, the superhuman computer people would rule over all the inferior meat puppets.
I'm sure most of you have heard of transhumanism, well this is transhumanism with a cartoon villain sort of twist.
Very sqrewed up.
And if anyone is interested in transhumanism...
Here's an interview in Asimov's, written by Cory Doctorow. They talk about the Singularity in Sci-Fi and Reality.
I also recommend reading A Brave New World (Aldous Huxley) and That Hideous Strength (C.S. Lewis). You think transhumanism is a new idea? Hardly.
Does anyone else smell propane?
One of the first things I noticed about Greg was how really red his nose was. It's a really veiny nose with a deep red tint to it and it betrayed him to me immediately. I've seen that sort of nose on plenty of the old farmers in Melrose. That's the nose of a true alcoholic.
My suspicions were confrimed when he started telling me stories about working in the newspaper business and just random anecdotes from his life. About every story he's ever told me has at least included booze or drinking as a minor character, or subplot. And he loves to tell stories.
I've missed Greg the last couple weeks because he took off suddenly on vacation and didn't really tell anyone what he was doing. It was really strange, but Greg is kind of a strange guy so I just tried to imagine what kinds of things he might be doing. My first thought was that he could be a sort of Indiana Jones and he was off in Bulgaria hunting for treasure. I recently read that there are tombs in Bulgaria, and the surrounding area, that still contain treasure from two thousand years ago and earlier. I imagined that Greg was trying to work his way into one of the still-intact tombs to find his retirement in the form of gold rings and armor.
Probably could have guessed that he was doing something less kickass and more...drunk.
So I got back from lunch and I'm stopping in the bathroom and who should be in there but Greg. I said hello and asked him where the heck he'd been, which was a big mistake. Greg likes to talk, and he doesn't really tell simple stories, he likes to branch off into all sorts of related topics and circle back around until he finally gets to the point. I usually don't mind because it's generally pretty interesting, but I was standing next to the urinals in the bathroom while he related a long tale about how he found his biological parents.
It turns out Greg was not hunting for treasure in Bulgaria. Instead, he was paying his last respects to his recently deceased mother. He had tracked her down many years ago and had got to know the family pretty well. It didn't sound like they were close, but they kept in touch.
A little side story he told me was about how his biological father died. Before he was able to track his bio-family down, his father was accidently killed in a moving accident. The oldest son was behind the wheel of the moving truck and pushed the gas instead of the brake. Ouch.
Despite the lack of a father figure, Greg's bio-mother was able to raise ten children to adulthood. It doesn't sound like it was easy for her and the children were very appreciative of all she had done for them. In turn, they were very mournful in her passing. And they must have been Irish.
Greg finished his story by telling about the roast after the funeral. Considering how many children she had, you can imagine how many guests were at this roast. Aside from the children and grandchildren there were the extended family and friends. And they all must have been Irish. Greg said he hadn't seen so many drunk people in one place since he went to Boston for St. Patrick's day.
He told me all of this while I stood next to the urinals, waiting to pee. I was really happy when that story ended. He could have at least had something interesting to tell me, like how he was hunting for treasure in Bulgaria.
__________________________
My mom called me yesterday and told me that I'd got a strange letter in the mail. She said it was really long, so she couldn't read it all to me, but she wanted to read a few little snippets.
It was from some guy claiming to be a member of a secret society. He wanted to assure me that this was not a mass-mailing, nor a solicitation for some product. According to the letter, I had been chosen by an elite team of screeners to be a part of their secret society. The letter assured me that I would be very flattered if I knew who those screeners were and the writer really wished that he could tell me, but it was as secret.
That probably would have been enough for me, because you know anytime you get a letter that says, "This is not a mass-mailing or a solicitiation" then it's a mass-mailing and a solicitation. I told my mom to throw it away. "Hold on" she said, "you've got to hear the rest of this."
This secret society wanted to send me a free book. They claimed I was about to enter the 2nd cycle of growth, or some bullshit like that, and the information in this book would help me to really grow during this important time. My mom said they talked about how I could control people's minds and be financially and socially successful beyond my comprehension.
Blah, blah, blah...
The information in this secret book (a book so secret that I found an online version) would tell me how I could do all this cool stuff. The book was found (not written, but found) by Dr. Frank R. Wallace. Dr. Wallace was given the book by some successful gambler who he met in a casino. He never got the gambler's name, but he was told that this book was over 2,300 years old and contained the secrets to success on every level.
So after hearing all of this I decided to Google Dr. Frank R. Wallace. That led me to all kinds of interesting stuff about him, his book, and his organization called Neo-Tech.
The wikipedia article on Neo-Tech pretty much says it all.
These guys are crazy. And not fun-crazy either. This is a full-blown world domination, cackle maniacally, living inside a hollowed-out volcano and ordering around henchmen crazy. This is Batman-villain crazy.
These guys are like scientology without the pretense of religion. They tell you exactly what they're agenda is. They want to brainwash themselves (brainwash isn't exctly the correct term, but the methods are similar and I don't want to try to explain neuro-linguistic programming) until they're basically superhuman, then they want to upload their consciousness onto a computer and be immortal. After which, the superhuman computer people would rule over all the inferior meat puppets.
I'm sure most of you have heard of transhumanism, well this is transhumanism with a cartoon villain sort of twist.
Very sqrewed up.
And if anyone is interested in transhumanism...
Here's an interview in Asimov's, written by Cory Doctorow. They talk about the Singularity in Sci-Fi and Reality.
I also recommend reading A Brave New World (Aldous Huxley) and That Hideous Strength (C.S. Lewis). You think transhumanism is a new idea? Hardly.
Does anyone else smell propane?
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