126 lines
5.3 KiB
Plaintext
126 lines
5.3 KiB
Plaintext
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Conspiracy Nation -- Vol. 8 Num. 59
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======================================
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("Quid coniuratio est?")
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QUIG'S TALE
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===========
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I met an old sea dog, name of Quig. I saw him from my window,
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approaching the Seaside Inn. He had a patch over one eye, a peg
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leg, and a large parrot was perched on his right shoulder. He
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entered the inn and called loudly for some ale. I shuddered as
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he approached my table.
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Says Quig: China White in Montana? It's bogus, matey.
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Says I: How so?
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He sat himself down.
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Says Quig: It's thievery. I had that story first, in Arizona.
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Black Dog Paulsen stole my story, and put it in Montana.
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Says I: What about this Paulsen?
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Says Quig: I know this guy so well. I was the editor of
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Grapevine. I published 60 articles. Black Dog *never* published
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anything. He's put his name on things that Fletcher Prouty
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wrote. And people wanted to believe that he's some kind of
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scholar. But there's nothing there.
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Quig's parrot kept squawking, "Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!"
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Says I: People have been wondering what happened to the Free
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Speech web site. And understandably, they're worried. Because
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they think maybe something bad happened to Ron Paulsen.
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Says Quig: The Grapevine newspaper was set up by the core of the
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newsletter editors for the Mensa society of greater Phoenix.
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They wanted to benefit the homeless people of Phoenix. And I
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became their editor. We published 60,000 papers per week and it
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put $40,000 per week into the hands of the desperately needy
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here.
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Ron Paulsen was homeless when he was taken in to operate the
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computer. And the computer had all my work in it. And Ron was
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getting an agency fee and he posted my stuff on the Internet.
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And he, unknown to the publisher of the Grapevine, registered
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their domain names in his name. And he did the same thing with
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me.
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Ron found this kid who borrowed $2600 from his mother's
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boyfriend to buy the computer where all my work was. And with
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that, they said, "Oh now *we* own the newspaper. *We* own the
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web site." And he's got the domain name registered in his name.
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Quig quenched his ale, then diverted into a dark tale of Vince
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Foster being a strong stand-up guy behind "Lefty" Bill Clinton
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and how Foster had been eliminated by somebody who wanted to
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weaken Clinton's hand, "somebody that was already controlling
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Clinton."
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The comely lass of a barmaid brought Quig fresh ale. He grabbed
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out at her, trying to steal a kiss, but she evaded his grasp.
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Quig went on. He hinted that Contras had infiltrated the
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militias and that the whole movement was not as it seemed. He
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then claimed that an inexperienced Paulsen had been taken in by
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CIA-linked sharpsters peddling wild tales to gullible neophytes.
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I cut in, breaking Quig's rambling account.
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Says I: But what happened with Paulsen then? He just suddenly
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disappeared?
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Says Quig: He ran out of money. He didn't pay his bills. He's
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now a homeless and penniless drunk, on the street.
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Says I: I'll just give people the gist. I don't want to take
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sides.
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There was fire in Quig's eyes as he boomed out, "I am just
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absolutely amazed at how many people have to be morally neutral.
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Can't you make a fu**ing decision!?"
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Says I: I'd have to hear Black Dog Paulsen's side of the story.
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Says Quig: There *aren't* two sides to this.
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Says I: I'm not gonna take sides.
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Quig looked ominous as he suddenly rose. Before I knew it, he
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had grasped my hand and held it tight. Says Quig: Yeah well you
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know what? Dante says the hottest places in Hell are reserved
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for those who remain neutral in a moral crisis.
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With that, he shuffled off, into the twilight. I ordered fresh
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ale. After quaffing the brew, I was horrified to notice
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something on the palm of my hand -- THE BLACK SPOT!!
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Views expressed do not necessarily reflect those
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of Conspiracy Nation, nor of its Editor in Chief.
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Want to know more about Whitewater, Oklahoma City bombing, etc?
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(1) telnet prairienet.org (2) logon as "visitor" (3) go citcom
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See also: http://www.europa.com/~johnlf/cn.html
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See also: ftp.shout.net pub/users/bigred
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Aperi os tuum muto, et causis omnium filiorum qui pertranseunt.
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Aperi os tuum, decerne quod justum est, et judica inopem et
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pauperem. -- Liber Proverbiorum XXXI: 8-9
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