Entry V--Wake Up Call

Owwwwwwwwww.

So this is pain.

Thought I knew what it was all this time.

Apparently was kidding myself.

But then, have never been this hungover before.

Even the slightest movement of the head brings forth the most excruciating agony ever inflicted upon mortal man.

Hard to put into words…

Hell, hard to think of words--or any word--period.

Best way to describe it is...my temples are being crushed, my head's being squeeeeeeezed in the clamps of an invisible vice with no sign of it loosening.

Then, that inevitable question of ultimate regret fills me up:

No, not "Why did I drink so much?" But rather, "What the hell am I doing awake?"

Should be sleeping through this--but I can't.

One of the many shitty side-effects of alcohol abuse is that it disrupts normal sleep patterns.

Besides, my head hurts too much to relax enough to fall back asleep.

Just got to lay here and take it, with no relief in sight.

Out of ibuprofen, and completely out of cash until that final check for that extra work I did on Shepherd comes in the mail.

It had better arrive today or I'm seriously fucked.

Well, not any more fucked than I am anyway.

Not sure what time it is, but judging the angle of the sunlight coming through the window, it’s late afternoon.

Don’t even remember what time I passed out last night—or was it this morning?

If it is after two, mail’s sure to been delivered already, but I’m in no condition to lift my head off this pillow, let alone venture downstairs to the box.

Shit, so parched, my mouth feels like the inside of a camel’s hoof and I still can’t muster the will to venture over to the sink to pour a glass of water, free though it may be.

That’s what one gets when one consumes two and a half pints of vodka in the span of an eight-hour binge.

I think. Could’ve been a nine hours.

Ha--worked overtime. And proud of it.

Think it’s safe to say I’ve officially hit bottom.

Only the queasiness in my stomach manages to occasionally divert my attention from the ache in my head.

Maybe if I lay still…breathe deep…count my insecurities (leave the sheep to the shepherds)…I can lull myself to sleep.

Drifting…off…I think…it…might be…work—

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!

No, that wasn’t the completion of my thought--though, the way my head's pounding and buzzing, wouldn't be surprised to find some ringing in there as well.

But no, I'm pretty fucking sure that was the phone.

Except to me, it wasn’t merely the phone ringing. No, to me it was as if something or someone took hold of my hair…then ripped the spine directly out of my flesh…where it promptly and wisely crawled under the bed to escape the torture.

Now the question I need to ask myself is clearly: “Why the hell didn’t I turn the ringer off?”

Maybe because I know I haven’t gotten a call in months. Hell, even the telemarketers ignore me--they know I’m a cheap date.

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!

Caught the full blast of that one, and it hurt worse than the first ring, if that’s possible.

Though I have absolutely no desire to converse with another human being, I'm not about to endure any more of those hideous banshee wails masquerading as innocuous phone rings.

Without budging my 4000-pound head, I extend an arm and reach over with outstretched fingers to the table, clumsily knocking the phone to the floor.

That crash squirts another jolt of punishment through my nervous system.

But it’s not all bad--at least the ringing stopped. Now if only the caller hung up.

With my face still glued to the pillow, blindly grope for the receiver below the bed. Locate it and pull it up next to my ear and mouth, hoping for silence on the other end so I can resume my private misery.

“Hello. With whom am I speaking?”

A woman’s voice.

And not just a woman, it’s the woman with that voice.

The voice I know oh-so-well. A rich deeper tone than I’ve ever heard on a woman, yet one that doesn’t lack a trace of femininity.

The voice I heard on xmas eve, the voice that accompanied those hallucinations on Snob Hill and again when I was looking out my apartment window.

The voice that sang those profoundly opaque lyrics/poetry which I still haven’t figured out.

But that can’t be…

Unless…I’m having another hallucination now? Or about to have one?

But it doesn’t feel like it.

It feels just like an ordinary phone call, despite the extraordinary voice.

On the other hand, I am perfectly capable of being outraged by this call. Who the fuck is this bitch? Who does she think she is? Why should I give her my name? Why doesn’t she tell me her fucking name first?

I should tell her off and slam the phone down on her ear and cause her one one-hundredth of the pain she caused me with that damn ringing.

Instead, I softly respond to her demand through arid and creaky throat:

“This is Darwin Grimm.”

“Good afternoon, Darwin. I am D’mona Cabal. Is this a good time to speak?”

I reckon it would be--if only I could speak--or formulate a coherent thought for that matter.

There is a very small part of me that really wants to tell her to call back later so I can get off the fucking phone and throw the covers over my head for the rest of the day. Or at least, until it’s time to drink again.

Yet a stronger part of me is intrigued by this and not about to squander a chance to speak with the very voice that may be the key to understanding everything that’s been happening to me (or inside my mind) since xmas eve.

“Yes, now’s fine to talk. Ms…Cabal, was it?”

Yes, that is correct, Darwin. You are to refer to me as Ms. Cabal, as a show of respect for my position.”

She’s totally assertive. Some would say ice cold, a real bitch.

Perhaps even…dominating?

For instance, she’s totally at ease with calling me by my first name without asking permission, yet insists that I call her "Ms. Cabal."

Part of me, tucked away in the rebellious chunk of my brain, wants to break out and snarl, “So why exactly should I respect your position?

Or maybe I could emphasize another word: “What the flying fuck is your position? I don't know you from Eve.”

But both will be relegated strictly to the realm of fantasy as I acquiesce completely: “Yes, Ms. Cabal.”

“I phoned you at this time to ensure I would be available to answer any and all questions you may have. However, I will not mince words and inform you of the essential reason for my call.

“I want you to write a book to be released by my publishing house.”

Geezus, that’s a helluva lot more than “not mincing words.” That’s slamming a sledgehammer square onto my already fragile noggin.

“A book? You want me to write a book?”

“That is what I said, Darwin. Why do you sound so incredulous? You have considered it, no?”

How in the hell does she know that? I've never told anyone, not even my Internet chat buddies.

But I don't question her: “Yes, Ms. Cabal.”

“Very well, here is your golden opportunity, as it were.”

As it were…

Eyelids suddenly feel involuntarily heavy…

Close them and a sudden image appears: the book.

That book The book that’s appeared in all my fantasies.

BYE BULL

But don't want to deal with that right now, can't get distracted. So my eyes fly open to dispel the vision.

“But I’ve never written a book,” I protest, as if underscoring the decision just made by my eyes.

Way to sell yourself, Grimm.

“I am not interested in what you have not done, Darwin, I am interested in what you are going to do.”

The words every failed writer longs to hear. But still I can't “Can I ask you a couple of questions, Ms. Cabal?”

“You may ask as many questions as you desire, Darwin. However, you are not to challenge me.”

Oh great, now there’s conditions on whatever questions I can come up with. Gotta tread lightly to avoid any verbal landmines.

First question is the most obvious—except to me: “A book on what?”

I still need to hear her say it. So she does:

“On the only subject you have ever written on: The threat Christianity poses to secular culture.”

“Why would you want to publish a book written about that?”

“Because it is necessary, and if it is written well, it could be quite successful.’

“Why do you find it necessary?

“Because I share your opinions regarding Christianity. In fact, that threat is graver than even you suspect. However, that particular tangent we will not to discuss at the present time.”

Okay, subject dropped, though my curiousity is piqued.

So, another obvious query: “So you’ve actually read me?”

Too obvious. She seems almost disgusted: “Would I be contacting you otherwise, Darwin? You should know that I have read every essay, article and editorial you have ever written.”

“All of them? Even from the zines?”

“Did I just not tell you I have read every essay, article and editorial you have ever written?”

Again, conflicting reactions bubble within me. Should that admission by her leave me impressed, or paranoid?

“As I said, Darwin, do not challenge me. I have read you since your very first piece was published, “Long Shadow of a Short Crucifix” in Street Meat magazine.”

Scariest thing is, she knows me better than I do. Would’ve guessed that “Hypocrisy” was the first thing I got printed.

But in flogging my memory, I realize she’s right, it was “Long Shadow.”

And even though she instructed me not to, I challenge her yet again: “You mean to say you went back and found those articles after you read some of my more “commercial” stuff, right? What was the first one you actually read when it was first published?”

“’Long Shadow of a Short Crucifix,” she informs me without hesitation or explanation.

That reply cuts off the oxygen to my brain more efficiently than any drink ever could.

But somehow, I manage to mutter; “You’re probably the only person on the planet who can make that claim.”

“Probably. However, it is irrelevant. If I am the only person who has read you from the beginning, then it was the right person, as far as you are concerned.

"I am the founder and CEO of Apogee Prose. Are you familiar with my publishing house?

Want to lie--but something in my gut prevents a deceptive reflex and sheepishly admit, "No. I don't really know much about the publishing industry."

"Perhaps you should become better acquainted with it if you are intend to become a published author.

"I launched Apogee Prose five years ago, as an outlet to publish writers whose unique writings are not being read. “In other works, I make books sell that industry professionals thought could not sell.”

“It should not surprise you, that I have read your work from the beginning. Forgive my somewhat jaded terminology, but I “targeted” you, Darwin Grimm, as a “writer to watch.'

"You see, I have the unique ability to read hundreds of articles and books every month, to find the proverbial “diamond in the rough.” “For years, I have scoured hundreds of so-called “underground” publications such as the aforementioned Street Meat, to discover raw, unsigned talent.

"On certain occasions, I will have one of my editors that writer contacted immediately after reading her or his first piece, and offer them a book proposal.”

“Should I be complimented that you are contacting me personally, Ms. Cabal?”

“I am in no position to tell you whether or not your ego should be elevated from this call, but you are correct, it is normally one of my acquisition editors that would seek out new talent, not I.”

She stops. She’s not going to tell me why she, of all people, is calling me at my home, and I’m too scared to ask.

“As I was saying, under other circumstances, I will bide my time, observing the writer as he or she develops, sometimes for years. This is what I chose to do in your case, Darwin.

“I also delayed contacting you because you are an essayist, not an author per se. While I was always intrigued by both your style and substance, I did not see the potential in a complete book from you. Your approach and perspective seemed better suited for the essay form. I surmised that if you had attempted an entire book, the material of your chosen subject would wind up being stretched too thin. Even for a relatively short book.”

She is brutally honest, and proffers perception as precise as a laser beam, saying things about me I never had the guts to admit to myself, that I always kept hidden in the back of my brain.

All I can do is step back and take it, as she proceeds: “I still harbored reservations, so I spent one long evening reading through your entire published output, from “Long Shadow” through your last piece, “If You’re Not Within, You’re Without.” By reading them consecutively, at one sitting, I became aware of the formation of a thematic pattern I had not previously.”

While I don’t wanna challenge Ms. Cabal, can’t help but asking: “Thematic pattern?”

She obviously doesn’t feel challenged, as she answers in full: “I take it from your tone of voice that the continuity I discovered in your work was unintended on your part. Regardless of whether it was constructed subconsciously or not, I found that each essay or article you wrote was subtly building on its predecessor.

"In doing so, you managed a rare feat for an essayist; you created an incredibly cogent tapestry of arguments against the validity of Christianity influencing modern American culture. When read in succession, your essays present a nearly unified vision. A vision, I might add, that is not merely confined to the negative, which the reader might assume at first glance. Rather, you lay out a series of life-affirming ideas and values that could exist in a post-Christian world.

"After finishing reading your work, I realized you had made the convincing argument that America, and eventually, the entire world, would be better served if Christianity, and all other religions, were abandoned.”

It’s all clear to me now. I never woke up from my latest booze-induced coma, or I am trapped in yet another fantasy. Ms. Cabal has got to be from another realm, another dimension most wondrous.

Here is this powerful, older woman, with the most seductive voice imaginable, taking my writing more serious than anyone--myself included--ever has. And she’s offering me a book deal on top of it.

Really have to cherish this moment. If I never wake up, if reality never intrudes, nothing can ruin this.

Ms. Cabal proceeds, “It was at that time I saw a book within your capabilities, Roger. A legitimate book. I am fully confident you could produce a book of interesting material from cover to cover over the span of a 200-page work of nonfiction.”

A sudden pause. Suppose she’s waiting for a reaction. But this is hitting me too fast, I’m not ready. So I resort to a sidebar: “Ms. Cabal, how did you ever find me?”

“I offer you the opportunity of a lifetime and you are only concerned with trivial details?”

Should’ve known she wouldn’t let that one pass easy. After a short delay that seems excruciatingly long, she resumes her more natural even tone, “However, you do have a right to know.”

“I realize you value your privacy, Darwin. I do the same as you shall learn. I obtained your phone number from an editor at Apollo magazine.”

One name comes immediately to mind. “Had to be Sid…Sidney Barrett, right? How much did he hold out for?”

“Excuse me?”

May be skating on thin ice here, but “I know the staffers at Apollo, even the editors, don’t make much. I figured he wanted cash to hand over my number.”

Her tone stiffens; maybe she doesn’t care for my raw cynicism: “You are correct, Darwin, it was indeed Mr. Barrett who gave me your number. However, he never sought any kind of compensation, monetary or otherwise.”

Wonder what she meant by “otherwise?” If she’s as hot as she sounds, I’m sure Sid would’ve gladly handed over my number for a roll in the hay.

Ms. Cabal continues, “Once I explained who I was and why I wanted your number, Mr. Barrett gladly turned it over. In fact, he seemed genuinely interested in wanting to help advance your career.”

“Hmm. Sid wasn’t very interested in “advancing my career” when I was trying to sell him stuff lately. Maybe he figured I’d stop bothering him with submissions if he pawned me off onto you.”

“I do not care for your defeatism, Darwin.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Cabal. I’ll try to be more positive.”

"Thank you, Darwin.”

With each command she gives, I feel a surge through my groin. And every time I obey her, I feel a stronger surge.

Shut my eyes accidentally and again the image of BYE BULL flashes in the darkness.

Again, flash my peepers open just as quickly to be rid of the vision. Her voice, the images—there’s gotta be some connection. “May I ask you another question, Ms. Cabal?”

“Ask as many as you feel are necessary.”

“Have we ever spoken before?”

“No. We have never met, Darwin. What makes you ask?”

“Your…voice. I recognize it from…somewhere.”

"That should not surprise you. You might even know my face. While I am no celebrity, and choose not to be, I have spent most of my life in the media spotlight, to a certain degree. You see, my name was not always D’mona Cabal.”

Don't ask her, but rather, wait for her to tell me" "I was formerly known as Mona Christian."

christian? I know it's just a surname, but the irony of her recruiting me to write for her isn't lost on me.

Unfortunately, who she is is lost on me.

The best option is to come clean: “No, I honestly don't know you as either Ms. christian or Ms. Cabal."

“If I were anyone else, I would be offended by your ignorance. And if you were anyone else, you would know who I am.

"Darwin, I am the sole heiress to the Christian Microchip fortune. My father was Duncan Christian. Perhaps you have heard of Christian Technologies?”

Holy shit! christian Technologies? I'm speaking to a woman who is worth untold billions. Heart races a bit at the thought, though I'm kinda disappointed in myself that I would be rendered nervous just by a few extra "zeroes" in her checking acccount.

Admit to her I have heard of the company: “That I have. In Silicon Valley, right?”

“You wouldn’t expect it to be in Napa Valley, now would you?” she snaps back rhetorically. But just as quickly, she returns to her businesslike tone, “I enjoyed a childhood most privileged, as you could imagine. I attended all the finest private and prep schools, Harvard for my undergraduate degree in business management and then back to the Bay Area at Stanford for my masters in English literature.

“However, I did not pursue a career right away. I did not have to due to my considerable trust fund.”

Is she gonna spend half the conversation repeatedly informing me of how much money she has? “I was a socialite for a time being, during my 20’s, and I still move in those circles to this day.”

“Wouldn’t know you from that. I steer pretty clear of the Sn—er, Nob Hill scene.”

“You were going to say “Snob Hill." It's alright Darwin, I happen to agree with you. I am only a snob when it suits my purpose. In that time, I have established many solids relationships with the prime movers of business and high tech in the Bay Area."

Really want to ask Ms. Cabal why she changed her name, but again, I’m afraid to. Something tells me it wouldn’t be right, that she'll tell me when she's good and ready.

A christmas message to all my Atheist and Freethinking friends

This is a message from Darwin Grimm, not part of the online novel Darwin Blinks.

I know it's easy to get down in the dumps this time of year, with either christianity itself or a "war on christianity" shoved down your throats every 4.2 seconds. ("War on christianity" my ass, yeah, the world's most dominant religion is persecuted, that's a good one).

Always keep in mind, we're right and they're wrong. christianity doesn't save any immortal souls. It only enslaves mortal souls.

The next entry in the novel will follow soon.

Looking forward to 6-6-06 in the coming year.

Entry IV--Three Sides of the Same Coin Part 2

FOc is something of a rarity in America these days.

Now, in the 1990's they would have gotten lost in the crowd of christian terrorist organizations, but then, when the war on another brand of terrorism--islamic--started up, all the christian baddie groups conveniently dried up, almost overnight.

It's my considered opinion that it was intentional.

The purpose? To cast christianity in a light of being the “superior” religion, not inherently violent like islam. And it was as amazing as it was scary that the most Americans forgot about treacherous the christian terrorists had been throughout the 90's.

But now that islam has been reduced to a spiritual shell of its former self by the US military (kind of hard to exert any significant influence when the overwhelming majority of your adherents are dead), the radical christian elements are gearing up again.

But for what purpose this time around?

That's the key question.

But before it can be answered, have to shade in the background.

Including a bit o' news that never made it to the mainstream press (or the alternative media, for that matter).

It's concerning the time the FOc slipped up, and in fact a connection to an institution was revealed, but then quickly covered up.

See, clandestine connections between two organizations aren't revealed by anyone ever climbing on top of a mountain or a skyscraper and announcing to the world that, "Hey y'all, we're involved with the US military. Look over here. Yeah that's us."

Rather, these truths are revealed are found by merely by coming across connections between individuals, sometimes just two people.

But sometimes, that's enough.

A few years ago a young man named Jeffrey Alan Daniels, arrested (accidentally?) during his botched nocturnal attempt to plant explosives and blow up the last remaining abortion clinic in Jacksonville, Florida. (Obviously, this incident took place before abortion was outlawed by Congress).

Daniels made the ultimately fatal mistake of carrying some FOc propaganda literature on him when he was popped by local Jax police, who of course were not “in the loop” when it came to the FOc. Daniels' incriminanting pamphlets were noted in the initial local and wire press reports regarding his bust, but was subsequently dropped from all of the following reports.

Not surprisingly, that piece of information was also not included in any of the official FBI reports on the attempted bombing.

With media/law enforcement compliance like that, it hardly mattered that Daniels fucked up and was busted with the FOc literature--because the "official story" soon became that no such literature ever existed.

Actually, it was I who discovered that Daniels was carrying the FOc lit after I scoured the online editions of several newspapers shortly following his arrest. (A red flag was raised in my mind soon as I heard it was an abortion clinic).

Tom Sawyer was damn impressed when I presented that bit of procured info to him and I really think it’s one of the things that sold him on me, because I was a worthy compadre of his in the conspiracy biz.

Tom took the ball from there, and found out a lot more about Daniels.

Daniels’ capture ended up costing him his life after he was transferred to federal prison shortly after being nabbed. Just one day before his scheduled court arraignment, Jeffrey Alan Daniels “committed suicide” in his cell by hanging himself with several tied prison shirts tied together.

Why the quotes? Because it's more likeley that Daniels was murdered. Why? Simply put, his premature demise conveniently ended any possibility of a trial that could have shed light onto Daniels’ ties to the FOc, the military, and possibly the Crusaders.

After Daniels’ demise, the mainstream limited their reportage to portraying Daniels as an ex-Marine with a “dishonorable discharge” on his resume (for punching an officer). This incident painted Daniels as a “bad apple” in a bunch of “good soldiers,” but nowhere in their reports was it mentioned that he was utilized in covert bombing operations conducted abroad by naval intelligence, primarily off the coast of several African nations.

In essence, Daniels served the same function in the military as he did as a civilian—planting bombs in order to cause civil strife. . The bombs Daniels planted in Africa weren’t done to support any kind of US military endeavor, but rather to be depicted as, you guessed it, acts of “terrorism.”

In this case, terrorism perpetrated by leftist rebels or near the borders of nations where tensions already ran high between feuding national neighbors for the purpose of justifying an eventual US invasion in the area, ostensibly, to “clean things up.”

During the time Daniels was blowing up bridges and seaport docks in the Third World his mentor was a naval intelligence officer, a Team Commander by the name of Doug Johns.

Johns was truly a master at masterminding covert bombing operations. He was highly adept at infiltrating any location and determining the ideal location in which a bomb should be planted in order to inflict the most damage—and more importantly, generate the most press coverage. Johns also was said to be an excellent instructor of such protégés as Jeffrey Alan Daniels.

Johns was an expert on the hardware of bombs and was always eager to get his hands on the latest technology when it came to timed explosive devices.

Even outside the military, Johns' path continued to cross with that of Daniels, not surprisingly, at least when you look at it now with proper persepctive.

After Daniels was “discharged,” Johns abruptly resigned from active duty, citing “work-related stress” and headed home to the U.S., right about the time Daniels was arriving back home.

Six months later, the first FOc bombing took place, at a clinic in Media, Pennsylvania.

Johns entered the private sector after his resignation from the military and began working as a “military contracting consultant” (hence Tom Sawyer’s knowledge of John’s activities).

Johns was known to be attending a conference of military contractors less than 50 miles from the site of that FOc Media bombing.

Some of the researchers in our geek squad think Johns is the de facto leader of the FOc, but I remain unconvinced (as does Tom Sawyer) until I/we see some more conclusive evidence.

But there’s little doubt that Johns is connected to FOc, probably working as one of the highest-ranking officers out in the field; essentially a “Team Commander,” just like he was in the 3rd World.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Meanwhile, following his dishonorable discharge, Daniels became a drifter, moving around the country visiting friends, family, and sometimes, even going to places where he didn’t know anyone and had never expressed an interest in visiting.

Likely he was on assignment as it were, involved in the FOc bombings and was being shuttled from city to city, depending on wherever he was needed.

Details on his whereabouts during the bombings is sketchy, as he kept an extremely low profile during this time.

However, it’s known that at three of the FOc bombings, sketches based on eyewitness accounts of suspects match Daniels’ basic physical description.

Something else that’s never been reported but that Tom became aware of, and that is FOc’s use of sophisticated bombing devices, those used by military in many of their covert attacks.

Precisely the explosive devices that Johns used in the field for so many years and still consults on to this day.

Well, Doug Johns’ best friend is Pat Stanhouse, who is on the Board of Directors for the Crusaders. Stanhouse was a lifelong ONI (Office of Naval Intelligence) Admiral who joined the Crusaders after retiring from active duty.

But wait, there’s more…

Another in our researching cadre was able to ascertain that Daniels himself was a member of the Crusaders for a very short period while he was still in service overseas. After he returned to the states following the discharge, he immediately terminated his membership.

In our opinion, this was done to sever any ties between him and the Crusaders, in the eventuality that he be caught, which of course, he was.

So now we’ve returned to that big question--why Why does the military have connections the Crusaders and the FOc?

It’s best to look at them as two separate “arms” of this christianized fundamentalist wing of the military.

In other words, three sides of the same coin.

Any way it turns up after being flipped spells doom for freethinkers across the land.

The Crusaders publicly forward their christian agenda; at the grassroots political level and by influencing the courts.

The FOc is their underground strong arm of enforcing the same agenda—blowing things up and killing anyone who gets in their way. Also forcing change, like leading to the criminalizing of abortion after there were no abortion clinics left open and no one to fight the legislature that the Crusaders helped push through Congress with their lobbyists and with their constituents haranguing their congressmen/women to outlaw abortion.

And it sure did work. In concert, the FOc and the Crusaders removed a woman’s right to choose.

Again, that one-word question must be raised: "Why?" What's the motivation for a military takeover?

This runs mostly into the realm of pure speculation, but it could be that the Pentagon is looking at subjucating the federal government and basically running the show (not that they don't already, but this would be more monolithic).

Just like in Nazi Germany, where the hidden truth is that the 3rd Reich was actually fueled by an underground military movement bent on seizing power in Deutschland, our military would use a "christian front" to establish a theocracy in the name of the Crusaders or (much less likely), the FOc.

And there's the always the scenario that has the FOc being legitamized by the Crusaders' ruling government, co-opted into the fold and work as the secret police that would enforce the newly mandated biblical law.

So, is the military motivated by power or morality? A little bit of both perhaps.

In fact if it was just "power for power's sake," I might be able to stomach that a bit easier.

Unfortunately, there’s reason to believe that some of these high-ranking individuals in Washington actually believe they are acting under “god’s command,” or that they are “serving christ” by attempting to transform America into a “christian nation.”

Some of these holy rollers, like Pleasant, actually believe god is “offended” by America the Decadent. (Yet another example of the folly of trying to infuse “god” with human emotions and values).

There types are officially known as “Reconstructionists,” those who believe that christ will only "return" to Earth on the condition that the entire world is converted into a globabl christian theocracy. (A sane soul might question why christ would need to return and presumably save the world if a heaven-on-Earth already existed, but that logic is lost on the Reconstructionists).

Does everyone in the military/intelligence communities who wish to bring about theocracy actually believe the hype about doing it for god, jesus and the restoration of morality or do they cyncially know it's just a ruse?

Hard to say, but at least a faction of the Reconstructionists seem interested in overtly subverting America to military rule, so it’s possible they’re “piggy-backing” onto the theocratic agenda.

In order to enforce the theocracy, it's an absolute necessity to have the military behind them, anyway. If they don’t, they’re not going to get very far with making everyone bow down to the crucifix every hour on the hour. Sure, 75 percent of Americans identify themselves as christian, but most don’t live for it. Their feet are firmly planted in the secular culture. (What they don’t realize is that their footing may someday turn to either deadly cement or quicksand).

Problem is, the second most trusted institution after the church is the military, and it isn't very far behind. The irony here being that the military is becomingly increasingly disconnected from the civilian population, becoming a decidedly one-sided relationship.

The military thinks much of civilian society is soft, decadent and morally astray. This relates to the stranglehold christianity has on the military, especially since the “war on terrorism,” when devotion to christianity was heavily “encouraged” in order to give the troops “spiritual motivation” for wiping out most of the muslim world.

Speaking of them, remember the good ol’ days when the biggest threat to all of us was some wild-eyed islamic terrorist with a dirty bomb for a shoe sole? Now that islams’s been reduced to a hollow rotting shell of its former self, christianity is once again the biggest threat to the world now--especially if it’s used to justify Armageddon. (This is a variation on the Reconstructionists argument--in this case, the endtimes/"rapture" won't take place until the world is aflame--and nuclear warheads could do the trick just fine).

Another crucial question to pose is—what would it take for the public to accept theocracy? It has to be generally accepted, otherwise they run the risk of widespread resistance that could put a crimp in their plans.

So, how do they pull it off? Simple. Get people to ask for it, no—demand it. Make the current living situation intolerable, that has people clamoring for some perceived “higher power’ to take over and right all wrongs.

Perhaps with “Great Depression II.” Some of the Internet geeks have suggested that, and could it ever come to that? Thanks to super-inflation, it just might. Prices and the unemployment rating is rising as fast as the stock market is dwindling. Layoffs are rampant, home building and buying is down, debt, both personal and corporate is piled high. (Irony is, that christianity’s partly responsible for the economic downturn in recent years. The old business adage of “Grow or die” is being stifled by the increasing pressure christian groups, such as the Crusaders put on Congress to ban new technologies that are considered “immoral” such as fetal tissue research, cloning, and biotechnology).

If things keep heading down this path of economic chaos, people will be looking for a change, the proverbial white knight to ride in and save them by getting America back the “way it used to be.” (Of course, the America I think they have planned has never been “that way,” not even in the conformist 1950’s).

Still having trouble envisioning how they might pull that off. I reckon one option for them is to go the way the war on terror was justified, where some kind of catastrophic event takes place involving the loss of many lives.

This sets the stage for martial law to be declared in order to justify the military taking over, while the Constitution is suspended--or outright abolished--and replaced with biblical law.

Not everyone would accept it, of course. I wouldn’t. Nor would my fellow geek researchers. For our troubles, we’d presumably be locked up--or worse. What could prevent them from initiating theocracy? If enough people found out about it, maybe. If the mainstream press ever got hold of it and ran with it, for certain. Riiiiiiiiiiiiiight. That ain’t ever going to happen, so no sense counting on it.

Most people don’t and won’t accept the possibility of theocracy. A lot of them don’t realize how young America is and change is inevitable. 20 years ago, would anyone had though islam would essentially cease to exist? If history’s any teacher, it won’t be pretty. Most empires tend to go under, in one form or fashion.

But still, people think it could never happen here. Which is exactly the collective attitude required for it to take place. The theocrats will protest that they don’t want to bring theocracy about, but they have “no other choice.” Likely they won’t forcefeed it down people’s throats, but having people request--or better still, insist--that it be spoonfed to them. That's the theocrat's preferred outcome, anyway.

But bottom line is, we have all this speculation and nowhere to go. We don't have proof positive of a theocracy, something to directly link someone big--like Pleasant--to any theocratic plans involving the military.

Not even Tom Sawyer has that kind of info. Nothing he's admitting to or willing to share, at least.

And maybe that's 'cause he doesn't want to scare us...

Or that he just doesn't trust us enough to share such awesome knowledge, corny as that sounds.

That's the only way we could break up a potential theocracy, if somehow, someway, one of us could dig up something that would become "breaking news" linking Pleasant to these plots.

It would be like that woefully underreported story from the 1930's where there was an actual fascist coup planned by a grouping of banking and industry right-wing big-wigs in conjuctino with the military against the FDR administration. Unfortunately for the would-be fascists, the military guy they picked to lead the overthrow, a little-known hero named General Smedley Butler (Marine Corps), proved himself to be a true patriot and went along with the plot, until he could expose it to the light, thus nipping the coup attempt in the bud.

That's who we need, someone like ol' Smedley, someone on the inside to blow up their theocratic agenda, cause lord knows we can't expect someone from the outside to do anything. I mean, Tom Sawyer is great and all, but I just don't think he's powerful enough to bust it from the inside.

Shut off my PC in frustration. Staring at that FOc story all night isn't going to get me anywere--if anything, it could overstimulate me and trigger another of those nasty hallucinations.

Set my sights on doing just the opposite--pure mindless obliteration and reach for the bottle to refresh my drinky poo.

Entry IV--Three Sides of the Same Coin

(Note: The first three entries of Darwin Blinks can be found below).

I'd rather have a bottle in front of me...as the old saying goes.

I think I’ve got this figured out now.

Every time I’ve hallucinated, I’ve either been out somewhere or sober, so the logical conclusion I draw from that is from now on I’m going to be drunk--and a homebody.

A hermit of epic proportions.

But if I never leave the house, except to get booze from the downstairs store, how will I possibly bring in any money to pay the rent--and more importantly, how will I pay for more booze?

Wary of doing anything that would stimulate me, but growing bored just staring at the wall.

Music is out…haven’t listened to any since NYE. Yeah, I know what Nietzsche said about life’s meaning without music in it, but I’ll have to do without it until I get my head straight. Make that...straighter.


Head lazily rolls around on my neck until I see the computer on the table behind me.

Haven’t approached that dusty old thing this entire new year.

Weird how rarely I approach the PC when it used to be such an integral part of my life.

Couple years ago, I was a total Internet junkie, practically living on it. That’s where I bought everything, conducted all my writing business, ordered food and found women to go out with me.

But I’m just bored and drunk enough to surf…

Fire up the computer and the Web…

Up comes my home page which includes a listing of news headlines, most of them mainstream and generally worthless, but occasionally I’ll find something of interest…

Like right now:

CHEMICAL TRUCK BOMBED CARRYING 4-YEM MATERIALS, DRIVER DEAD, RADICAL GROUP 'FORCE OF CHRIST' CLAIMS RESPONSIBILITY

Not again.

Scroll down to scan the article, not that it's anything I haven't read before--or that long ago.

Didn't the Force Of christ bomb something else just last month? Maybe it will say somewhere in the body if I read closer...

Distracted from that thought by spotting what I was looking for--in January, the FOc bombed a pharmacy in Columbus, Ohio that was selling 4-YEM. It was the only place south of Cleveland where you could get the abortion pill in the state. Until last month, that is.

It says here that increasingly, pharmacies have started hiring small private security forces to protect their interests

So with half the pharmacies in the US too scared shitless to sell 4-YEM in fear of being bombed and the other half surrounded by small armies to prevent being bombed, it seems FOc has shifted focus to targeting the actual chemicals used to make 4-YEM.

4-YEM is the so-called "abortion pill," a synthetic steroid women ingest to terminate a pregnancy. 4-YEM was a remarkable improvement over its mifepristone predecessor, assuring in pregnancy termination in 99 percent of cases and effective up to 90 days following conception.

The unfortunate one percent for whom 4-YEM is ineffective have to either have a baby they don’t want, fly out of America to a country that hasn’t outlawed abortion…yet, or resort to the lowest option of all—an illegal abortion (or "bort" in slang), performed by dubious doctors operating out of back alley clinics and motel rooms, procedures which are often hazardous and risky to the pregnant woman’s health.

More details in the story brings up a familiar scenario following any of these--investigators searching through the rubble of an FOc bombing, but yet never seem to be able to find a shread of evidence linking any living person to the FOc, even though they've been around for going on two decades now.

It's more like they're just a gathering of shadows that are real good with plastic explosives.

Some say that the FOc was partly responsible for abortion being made illegal; that the violence they perpetuated against clinics caused so many to shut down that there wasn't enough resistance to the legislation that ultimately outlawed them.

With surgical abortion out of the picture, the FOc turned their attention to 4-YEM, and according to this article, it's becoming increasingly difficult to obtain, espcially in more rural areas.

Their strategy is consistent with their stated goals in the rare communiques they have released--to completely eliminate abortion from the American landscape.

(Though I tend to doubt FOc has a solution, final or otherwise, for coat hangars. Also, given their white proto-fascistic evangelical leanings, they probably wouldn’t object too much to minorities getting abortions).

When you think about it, targeting the trucks that carry the 4-YEM chemicals makes a helluva lot more sense, from a terrorist perspective.

Trucks are easy to target, out all alone on the open road. They have to make stops for fuel and repairs for the rig, and for food and bodily functions for the driver. Leaving the vehicle unattended and offering many opportunities for explosives to be planted on said vehicle by perpetrators following the truck in a vehicle of their own.

Scroll up mindlessly back to the story's headline and note with interest that it referred to the FOc as a "radical group" and not a "terrorist group" which would be more correct. If the FOc ain't terrorists, who the fuck is?

The paper, like the federal government, also describes the FOc as "leaderless, without any known ties to any particular group or individual."

I disrespectfully disagree.

I know all about FOc's ties to groups and individuals alike.

How do I know these things that seemingly alude megacorporate media and the most powerful government in the history of the world?

Easy. For you see, ladies and gentleman, I have a problem:

I am a...conspiracy theorist.

Though I much prefer the term "reality theorist."

It just happens to be a reality that is not reported on nor commented on, and thus escapes the awareness of all but a select few--such as myself.

Reckon I stumbled onto this hobby because it was an extension of my anti-christian leanings. In other words, since I found christianity to be a lie, why then wouldn’t other institutions—i.e., government--be likewise based on lies, treachery and deceit?

Christianity claims to have a person’s best interests at heart, when actually the opposite is true, and such is the case with the U.S. government, especially in the darkest unseen corners of the Pentagon and in Langley, VA.

After I finally gave in to the rest of the world and got the Internet at home a few years ago, it wasn't long until I literally spent hours upon hours researching conspiracies and communicating with others who felt as I did.

Usually found kindred minds on certain message boards. Some might scoff, but there’s a certain honesty and integrity to be had on a discussion board. You get to know a person based on their ideas, and they way they express themselves. It’s a lot easier to be freer and bolder than when dealing with someone face-to-face, or even on the phone, where self-consciousness often dominates the dynamic.

From these discussion boards with themes like conspiracy theories, atheism, free thought and anarchy, a small network of Internet geeks such as myself sprung up. Our network of nerds soon lead us to conclude that each of us had some data that the others didn’t, like jigsaw pieces scattered about the world, but that nobody had the data that would complete the puzzle.

Even though none of us had all the pieces, there was a fundamental truth we all shared--our collective conviction that there was a concerted effort on the part of certain elements of US intelligence/military to subvert the last vestiges of democracy in America.

That’s it. That’s as far as we were prepared to go. None of us ever had the balls to use the “T” word. Theocracy.

Theocracy is rule by religion. In this case, christianity. Old Testicle biblical law would replace the Constitution as the law of the land. Democracy, inalienable and civil rights would cease to exist.

Freedom of speech, along with just about every other freedom, would be out the window.

One reason no one would say it is because there is no concrete evidence that a theocracy is in the works, there's no hard proof, and we wanted to stick to things we could document. One of us had a connection

Second, we didn't want to become too competitive with our individual pet theories and possibly splinter us off into divided factions that are counterproductuve.

Another reason, and probably the dominant one, was that nobody wants the others to think he was that paranoid to think that the bible belting gestapo would be knocking at our door any day now.

But privately, I think each and every one of us thought that theocracy was in the wind. Including me.

Especially me.

That's because I have a cyberpal that none of the others know about. A man(?) who actually has connections to the U.S. military and intellgience agencies.

I know him as Sawyer.

Not his real name, of course, that’s his nom de cyberspace.

Don't know his real name, and not sure I'd want to. Could be dangerous. Don't think I'd ever want to meet him, either.

I say "him" and assume he's a guy because a) "Tom Sawyer" is a masculine name, b) he writes in the voice of a "guy" and c) he seems to know waaaaay too much about the proverbial "old boys network" one finds associated with the Pentagon and CIA.

Know it sounds sexist, but I can't help it: It would blow my mind if it was a woman who knew all this. Can't imagine she'd be very good looking.

He says he goes by Tom Sawyer because, like the fictional character that serves as his inspiration, Tom is the one with the "smarts" while I, going by the nom de cyber of Huck Finn, am the one who acts out his lofty ambitions in "real life" (as it were) by disseminating the information he clandestinely passes on to me, which I then pass on to the other webgeeks.

Tom regards us not unlike "troops on the front line" but really, when you think about it, we haven't done all that much beyond Internet postings. It’s not like us have ever written a book on the subject. Hell, I've never even written an article on the subject.

We’re better informed than the general populace, but that’s about it.

On that free-thinkers forum where I first “met” Tom, he was quickly impressed with my level on knowledge on the subject and eventually came to trust me enough that he told me who he was and that which he knew.

Not that he's ever told me exactly what he does, but he’s hinted at it: working somewhere in the murky depths of military contracting consulting; he claims to be involved with military/intelligence personnel at the highest levels.

Sometimes Tom says more than he should; he's let it drop he's a computer programmer and advises military and intel on security issues. While still remaing humble, Tom's told me that he's so well-connected, he’s privy to certain classified info even before certain high-ranking military and intel brass get their paws on it.

But it's not like Tom is is in on the meetings where FOc members actually consort with legitimate military officers/Intelligence agents, he hears this all second-hand himself.

From whom, do you ask? Why, from those who oppose whoever it is they're snitching on.

You see, military intelligence is not a monolith by any means. There are competing, yes, even warring factions. Some are legitimately concerned with preserving constitutional democracy, while others are hell bent on installing fascism—or maybe even the aforementioned theocracy.

Those that are opposed to the fascists/theocrats are the ones who pass on info to various “outsiders,” such as Tom Sawyer because they know this news would never be released by any "legitimate" media outlet.

Course, there’s always the possibility that Tom Sawyer is actually conspiring against us, that he’s playing me and the other conspiracy geeks all for suckers of the highest order.

Perhaps one day I should expect to be rounded up, in the middle of the night, by some secret police force?

Maybe I should expect for that to happen, but I don’t.

I won’t.

I can’t.

Tom Sawyer just seems too genuine.

Besides, it's not like me and the geeks are plotting secession, sedition or attempting to overthrow the government in any way shape or form, we're jus passing...information along.

Albeit information that the government would not want ordinary citizens to possess--“national security” concerns and all.

Another possibility is that Tom Sawyer’s being lied to by his “contacts,” that they’re either setting him up or leading him astray.

See how easy it is to get paranoid with this hobby?

Bottom line, Tom Sawyer means too much to our research, to our hopes of actually cracking the conspiracy open, for us to abandon him or to mistrust him on any level.

So what exactly has Tom Sawyer told us?

That the FOc is connected to the both the military and the Crusaders of the New Millenium, for one thing.

Also, that the Crusaders are tied to the U.S. military--which really wasn't any big revelation, seeing that Rev. Pleasant was one of the most famous generals in U.S. military history.

But the FOc connections are another thing altogether--especially when you consider the official line is that the FOc has no connections to anyone anywhere.

Definitely a case of the establishment, be it government or media, protesting too much.

My comrades and I know better...