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 PROTECTED] http://fcn.net _ http://fcn.net/allisat http://robin.fcn.net
