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Conspiracy

Project MKULTRA was the code name for a covert CIA mind-control research program that began in the early 1950s and continued through the late 1960s. Experiments included administering LSD to CIA employees. Coincidentally around that same time the Joint Chiefs of Staff were working on Operation Northwoods. In 1962 there was a plan by the U.S. Department of Defense to stage acts of terrorism on U.S. soil and against U.S. interests abroad. The goal was to generate U.S. public support for military action against Cuba. Does this frighten anyone? The fact that the CIA dosed its own agents with LSD while also being the principal advisor on covert and military issues?

Here’s the scene: Inside a log cabin. Somewhere in upstate New York. It’s 1961. Two CIA agents are high on acid. One agent is occasionally looking out the window. The other agent is pacing back and forth around the room.

“First we put something in Castro’s beard so his beard will fall out and he’ll look like a lizard. Then we shoot Kennedy with a triangulated crossfire because he’s a lizard person too. We take a road trip to Guatemala, set up a banana farm, fly over to Southeast Asia like a huge swarm of bats, bring back heroin, sell that in the projects to get money to buy guns to protect our banana farm.”

“Yeah that kind of makes sense… But how are we going to get everyone in on this? WHAT THE FUCK IS ON ME? IS THAT A SPIDER?”

“Whould you chill?”

“Ok, I’m… fine… my head still feels like there’s a bumblebee in it though. Or some kind of hive… a beehive thing… but… What was I saying?”

“This is what we do. Check it out. We highjack our own commercial airliner and blow it the fuck out of the air over Cuba.”

“Oh man your head looks like a rat face. Wait… what? Highjack a plane? I’m looking at your rat head but I hear these words coming out like streamers. Are we on a plane right now?”

“Just listen to me. Lemnitzer is going to love this one. Say we paint an empty plane to look like a commercial jetliner. We get a few operatives to climb on the real plane. Then we take our bullshit plane and rendezvous in the air so no one knows what the fuck is going on. The real plane lands somewhere in a banana field and our boys climb off and act like they’re picking bananas or some shit. Then we blow the fake empty plane out of the air over Cuba and blame it on Castro.”

“What if his beard is made of bees?”

“Right. It could be a disinformation beard.”

“Oh dude I’m seeing… your head looks like an anteater now.”

“Stay with me. We have to keep this on the down low. We’ll paint the same numbers, same airline, they’ll fly in the air right next to each other and it’ll look like the same blip on radar. We tell the New York Times the other blip was a goddam UFO or Cuban MiG. No one will know or give a shit because the FAA is seeing weird blips all the time. Remember Mac Brazel? We’ll scare the fuck out of anyone who gets too close to the real story.”

“Hey that reminds me. You said I was supposed to get my TS clearance so I can see that thing. Are you a goddam mole? Your face is turning green and I can see my dead father.”

“Look you fuck nut, you’re tripping balls. You have a head full of acid and we’re brain- storming war games right now. I’m not a lizard. You know me. Your father and my father have been friends for fifty years. They went to Yale together. They’re on the square. Fuck we were in the Order of DeMolay together in grade school! Don’t start that paranoid crap.”

“I don’t know dude. I can see weird horns popping out of your anteater head right now. When you get angry I see fire coming out of your mouth and you’re growing a forked tail. Why do you have that bandage on your head?”

“I told you I have to keep my head safe. This is for my Trepanation scar. I need to keep the pressure off my brain.”

“Well I’m seeing two red horns pointing out of that fucked up thing… Oh God! Are you a Shriner?”

“For the last time, you paranoid freak. I’m not a Shriner. You know me. It’s not a turban. It’s for my Trepanation scar. It’s that surgery I got for the hole in my skull”.

“You are out of your fucking mind.”

“Trepanation is a mystical experience. Evidence has been found in prehistoric human remains. The Andean people used to bore holes in their skull. There’s a goddam cave painting that proves it. Hippocrates talked about this shit. Look it up yourself.”

“Why do you have to do this every time? I’m seeing pyramids and dog horns, you’re talking about some fucked up hole in your head, I’m tripping balls out and now some crap about a plane that looks just like another plane? I think I’m going to take my clothes off.”

(Allen Dulles calls)

“Oh God! What is that sound? I’m hearing it in my neck. Something’s wrong here. Is there a fire? I’m hearing a… THE PHONE IS ON FIRE!”

“Would you mellow out? It’s Dulles. He said he’d call us right when we started to peak. I think he wants another ten grams of this shit.”

(CIA agent picks up the phone)

“Yeah… Uh huh… Right! I know dude. It’s fantastic! I’m seeing all kinds of things. Olsen is about ready to jump out the window. This batch is amazing. I can get you another 10 grams. We can dose the whole Revolutionary Armed Forces with half that amount. Put it in a crop duster and fly it over Havana… Uh huh… Right… We’ll pile naked Cubans up in a pyramid, have them jack off and take pictures of it… (laughs) I know. Plans within plans. Yeah… Ok… Working on it… I’ll give you a report in five days after I come down. See ya.”

“Who was that?”

“It was Dulles. We need a notebook. I’ve got to keep track of this. It’s so clear to me now. Lizards, guns, heroin, bananas, pyramids. It’s all coming together.”

“I feel like I have bat wings.”

“Would you get the hell away from that window!”

(Twelve hours later)

“Time has no meaning. There is only the absolute present. There is no past. No future. No history. Everything is occurring in one infinite moment.”

“Time has meaning because I have shit to do today. You’ve been on that fire escape for 12 hours.”

“I told you I’m on this fire escape because you are still on fire.”

“I’m not on fire. There is no fire. I don’t have a cat head. Your arms are not made of rubber. We’ve been over this a million times.”

“Then what is that ball of fire doing in the sky? Doesn’t it seem hot to you? I feel hot.”

“It’s the sun. The sun is a giant fireball. It’s the middle of July and its two in the afternoon. Just hop down onto that dumpster it’s only about five feet.”

“I’m on the side of a mountain. It looks to be about a fifteen thousand foot drop.”

“That’s the acid. The LSD is tricking your brain. It’s not real. It’s all in your mind.”

“If it’s all in my mind then everything is in the mind, along with the fireball in the sky and this mountain. You cannot tell me it’s not real because I’m experiencing it right now.”

“I’m going to beat you in the head with a fucking shovel if you don’t come down.”

“There is only my subjective reality. Therefore fuck off. I’m telling you to fuck off so you are fucking off right now.”

“Look. I have to work today. I’ve got to type out that Northwoods Document.”

“And what is that? That’s not real. You were telling me you were going to do all this fake crap and blame it on Castro. You’re wasting your time because you’re on fire. You need to stop drop and roll. You flaming fucking cat midget with your fucked up cat head. Fuck off.”

“Ok so if I’ve been on fire for this long how come I haven’t burned up completely?”

“Good question. I’ll tell you why. It’s because your cat head is made entirely of asbestos and you’re wearing a non-flammable gay sweater. You have a wooden leg. And I think you’re in the CIA.”

“We’re both in the C.I.A.”

“So you admit it. You’re a goddamn intelligence officer!”

“That’s our job. That’s what we do. You just took some acid and you’re freaking out.”

“Let me get this straight. I’m in the CIA. I’m high on acid and there really is a giant fireball in the sky. You admit you’re also in the CIA but you have a cat head. You say it’s all in my mind but some of this is real. If this is some kind of mind control operation you’re not very good at it.”

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I’m chatting with a friend about Implantable Transponder Chips, it’s just another Sunday afternoon and I stopped in mid sentence thinking of the word transponder. “Hey that sounds familiar. I seem to remember reading something about the transponders being turned off somewhere. It was that switch those sneaky terrorists found on 9-11. NORAD was up shit creek as George W. Bush read a book on feral goats.”

But what is the purpose of an Implantable Transponder Chip for humans? Why do they tell us we’ll need one in the bright future? Oh for fuck sake maybe grandpa is lost in the woods again. He’s got distemper. We don’t know what he might do. We’ll have to put a chip on his forehead just to keep track.

Do you think grandpa will have that secret on/off switch too? Just in case all hell breaks loose and he needs the switch for some reason when he’s lost in the woods? Let’s say he’s not really lost he just wants to turn the switch off for a goof. Maybe he wants to play a prank on the front desk girl at the Sunnydale Rest Home. Maybe the doctor who implanted it on his skull told him about the switch, “Remember Frank. If things get really crazy you can always shut the transponder off. If you’re ever lost and you don’t want to be found just flip this switch right here on the taint. It’s in a secret place between the scrotum and butthole. Taint balls, taint ass. Get it? Well anyway no one should ever find it.”

Here’s a possible scenario. Frank is lost in the woods unprotected. He’s rolling around smacking into trees. Sunnydale Rest Home needs to keep track. It’s total chaos. Anything can happen. Let’s say a group of Boy Scouts find Frank naked and screaming in a patch of poison ivy. Let’s say hypothetically the Scout Master is a pedophile. Let’s also say, just for the sake of argument that the Scout Master tells the troop to beat and fuck Frank until he’s dead and they’ll all get a Gang Rape Merit Badge. The PowerReachTM5G transponder module in Frank’s forehead is capable of transmitting data up to distances of 320 kilometers. The front desk at Sunnydale has an array of tracking equipment. They know the exact location of every patient. But the Scout Master knows where Frank’s secret switch is. An hour and fifty minutes creep by and Frank is raped repeatedly by a troop of adolescent Boy Scouts.

How did the Scout Master know about the secret switch? Why would the doctor implant a Transponder Chip in Frank’s forehead with an on/off control on his taint? We know the Transponder is there for a reason. It’s for emergencies. Anything can happen in the woods. Sunnydale needs to know where Frank is at all times. Somehow he gets lost on the radar screen. Do they send out a nurse? Call the police? Form a search party? Fuck no. It just so happens, Frank was raped during a routine exercise. The staff at Sunnydale were coincidentally herding everyone out the door for the rape crisis awareness drill Virginal Guardian. No one saw what was happening until it was too late.

The Scout Master gives a long patriotic speech about honor and silence during a time of tragedy. Frank’s corpse is buried by the troop in a shallow grave and later dug up by wolves and torn to pieces. This is just a hypothetical situation. The important point I want to make is that the PowerReachTM5G transponder module is designed for total security but also includes a simple on/off mode option.

Or here’s another scenario. Sunnydale might want to keep track of Frank’s family. Let’s say there are all kinds of people coming and going through the Sunnydale Rest Home security perimeter. Things can get crazy. People drop off presents and flowers. They visit at all hours of the day. You never know how long to stay. Old people can die at any time. Maybe the family might want to know of Frank’s impending death while they’re out buying flowers. Or Sunnydale might want to know where Frank’s family is just in case they forgot the copay.

How can Sunnydale convince all the families to come on board with the PowerReachTM5G transponder module? This may sound crazy, but what if Sunnydale could stage an event somehow, say another Virginal Guardian test. Frank may or may not be in on it. The doctor may have told him about it or it was stuck somewhere in the appendix on page 378 of the PowerReachTM5G transponder instruction manual. PowerReach will clearly inform all customers of article 66934vs2r17.

“In the event of (0) / 2 + (k=1..) (a(k) cos kx + b(k) the customer will agree to 1/PI f(x) kx dx 9838453 any test Sunnydale Rest Home may decide to exercise during a routine Dn(t) dt Sn(x) = 1/PI ? f(x+t) Dn(t) dt Dn(x) = Dirichlet kernel = to advance said customer support relations 1/2 + cos x + cos 2x + cos nx = [ sin(n + 1/2)x ] / [ 2sin(x/2) ] under article 66934vs2r17 of the PowerReachTM5G transponder instruction manual limf(t) cos kt dt = lim(k->)f(t) sin kt dt = 0 A(0) a Scout Master may fuck your ass [ A(k) cos (k(PI)x / m) + B(k) (sin k(PI)x / m) so we can test our radar system or start a war with ] a(k) = 1/m f(x) any other Rest Home we want which may or may not have supplies we need (k(PI)x / m) dx xk+1 = (xk + y / (xk)n-1) if you agree to these terms and conditions it really doesn’t matter 21/3 = 1.259921049894 B = 0.61357421875 We’ll do what we want whenever we want anyway 29 = 0.7098625 * 23 exp = 9 – 3 = 6 yi+1 = yi + (xn/2)(a – yi2) ax2 + 2bx + c = 0 x2/r2 = 1+ 2/r2 = -130 = 0”

Basically what this means is Frank’s part of the Sunnydale Rest Home “test” or what we could describe as the PowerReachTM5G transponder Venereal Grandfather exercise. Since PowerReach virtually owns Sunnydale and can shut the electricity off with one key stroke we’ll just call it the PowerReach Frank is Fucked Guardian Test Thing Whatever. We can call it what we want. The point is Sunnydale needs to keep track. So they stage a spectacular event. They hire a few Scout Masters to beat and fuck Frank in the woods until he’s unconscious. The family was told all about the significance of the Transponder Chip. But somehow the on/off switch got activated and the family wants to know why. That’s where PowerReach comes in. They sing a few Sunnydale songs, print up some bumper stickers so we never forget and the CEO reminds people of what can happen in the woods. The family gets a heartfelt apology from the PowerReach PR firm on the mistakes that were made and the shareholders have agreed that the PowerReach TM5G transponder module will now support a new failproof re-designed on/off mode option.