So you think you're free from the oppression and tyranny of the CON, do you?


Why don't we try a little test to see if what you desperately

hope to be true really is? Don't worry, I won't expect you to actually

do this -- I already can predict the outcome -- I just want you to

imagine it and see how you react.


Unless you have 20/10 vision and more room in your television viewing

room than a three car garage, it's less than 20 feet from your

television to where you sit and watch it. Seven to ten paces depending

on leg length, traditional foot binding, etc. It takes you all of 10

seconds to make it A L L T H E W A Y over to it. The caloric

output for such a minute effort doesn't even show up on those charts

that diet and exercise freaks like to memorize.


So why the remote control? If it's so easy to get up and go over to

it, why do you need to sit and operate it from far away? Oh, I can

smell the smoke from those fires of rationalization burning already --

you're going to say it gives you Slack to sit back and make it all

happen. And you know, that's true. EXCEPT.


Sure, you get Slack from it. But where does that Slack go? It sits

there in a lump with you and evaporates in the glare of the CRT,

because you don't USE it. Slack is NOT a force, it's an EXPERIENCE. It

CAN'T be stored. You use it, or it's wasted.


Now, since you're not using it, guess who is? You got it, the CON is

sitting there on the other side of the screen, just PEELING the Slack

from your bones. While you're sitting there getting it from your

voluntary inability to stand up, they're STEALING IT from you, right

out from under you, IN YOUR VERY LIVING ROOM.


They're stealing it from you by encouraging you to KEEP sitting there

and experiencing hour after hour of mind sucking drivel. JHVH-1 FORBID

you should get distracted by something else. Why, then you might start

to THINK, or even DO SOMETHING, other than ingest the programming that

creates good little consumers out of your emptied shells.


As long as your plan of action is inaction, they have you. The choices

you get from using your remote control is in which channels to watch,

not whether to watch. Yes, there's a power button on it. But you don't

use it nearly as much as you'd use the one on the set if you could

actually break yourselves away from the cushions. The idea of the

remote is to keep sitting there, and as long as you're still sitting

there, why, what else is there to do? As long as they KEEP you remote,

they keep you under their control.


So here's what I want you to try. I'd really prefer you try to do this

to get the full effect of it. Knowing how likely this is, 99 out of

100 of you will just have to imagine it. Which PROVES THE POINT I'M



SMASH your remote control. Just crush it under your heel. Roll over it

with the car, bash it with a hammer, launch it with a nine iron, throw

it at the wall, just do whatever it takes to break it into lots of

small, inoperative pieces. Destroy the device that pins you to your



Not easy to take, is it? Your mind searches for excuses, your gut

broils, your palms sweat. It's OK, that's a natural reaction -- to


RUNS YOUR LIFE. And that's just from imagining it. If you really tried

it, you'd also be quickly remorseful and angry, and planning on how to

go about getting another one, even before the adrenalin wears off.


Freedom sucks if you're not ready for it.


Remote. They're MILES away, and they're still pulling your strings.


Control. They don't make you do anything except make you WANT to do

what THEY want you to do.


Remote control.


Even the most dedicated Rewardian requires either Emergentile

behaviors if not an Emergentile present to help them to process the

Slack they accumulate. You can sit there in a pile, but Slack won't.

It's fleeting, constantly in motion. If this weren't so, the

CONspiracy could capture it, bottle it and sell it. And then, THEY

WOULDN'T NEED YOU ANY MORE. They have a fine reputation for destroying

things that they need -- things they don't need get relabled as

garbage. (What's a weed? A flower without official CON recognition).


You can't soak in Slack. You have to LIVE it. And when you're plugged

into the tube, you aren't living; you're the high end of an electronic

IV feeding YOUR Slack into the CONspiracy Stupidity Box. The little

they let you keep is tainted. It's poisoned with the blue glow that

keeps you going back to give MORE and MORE. They've managed to turn

your "Bob" given Slack into FALSE Slack. And we all know that kind

never satisfies.


Remote. You'll probably never meet the people who benefit from your

ass growing wider than the Lazy Boy seat -- they fly in higher circles

than the wide bodied hulks they're getting you to become.


Control. Your heartbeat is slower and more regular now. The panic

reaction is over. You know this message will end soon and your life

will be as it was before. Soft. Safe.















(@ @)\DynaSoar\___, Doktor DynaSoar Iridium, Scienfictiontologist

ll ll Yetii Genetii Research InstiToot, Somedamnwhere, VA

Clench of The One True Pipe Dream, ElectroChurch of the SubGenius

Life is a game. Money is how we keep score.