It was Yahweh. He said, " And I shall cause eternal strife between you and the woman" or something like that. If you own a Bible, look it up. It's in Genesis, and it comes after the sparerib dinner and the snake dance, that's all I remember. But it's one reason why I won't allow a Bible in my house.

Eternal strife: when I see you as a piece of me that I have suppressed, and you see in me a part of you that was barbiedolled from you, then we will never really know each other, will we?

We are supposed to be exposing covert ops and official corruption here at the Agents Forum, yet often those matters serve only as points of departure for some self-revalatory soul-baring post. I see in this nothing inconsistent with the rules of the Forum.

For They clearly went after our souls. The deliberate separating of the male from his internal Yin, the female from her internal Yang, HAARP, the deliberate dumbing down of the masses, the crap on tv, the bullshit in the newspapers, the fastfood bullmarket what's-in-it-for-me smog over everything we used to love, memory of food that used to taste good, politics, and its whore the who-cares economics of an oil-clogged sea otter's final fading dialog with the deep, the solitary tear of the old Navaho on the butte as the hot wind brings the snarl of Caterpillars gouging out cellars for lookalike houses from the pristine chaos of the desert, the tear rolling down a cheek rugged and windworn as the rocks, disappearing into the alkali gravel.

Meanwhile here in this spook tavern on the Web some of us out our souls, a public purging of the fluoridated heavy-metal disease that was inflicted on us all. It was the biggest Black Op around, and no one who reads these personal spiritual confessionals should ever imagine they are out of place on this Forum.

Least of all You, you useless piece of shit sitting in a bunker lit by monitors, scanning the postings here to ferret out the programmable misfits for your boss--you, bored by the apparent irrelevance of some cybercreature called Jana or Terra Or Esclarmonde, because you are too busy writing the next paragraph of your resume to realize you are nothing but Mister Jones, and you don't know what's happening here, not a fucking clue.

Here's a hint, technowhore: it's a dog-eat-dog world only if you like the taste of dogmeat. And here's something for your resume: Power is the ultimate refuge for those who flee from love.

But it's never enough, is it? Which explains most of modern civilization.

Oliver