[pagan-magik] up! 0028// Friends And Fixtures, Farewell// march 2, 2006

[fraser]

TURN ON COMPUTER // TUNE IN TO FREED SPIRIT OF INTERNET // TAKE OVER!

  “You’re the best reporting journalist my friends and I ever saw
  - please persevere, and many blessings on you.” Brooks, Hawaii.


==== TODAY THE UP!S CIRCULATION PASSES 14,000 ===


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6 months ago i stated that it was now reasonable & timely to accept that 
iraq had been better off under saddam.  well, you could have argued the 
point then, BUT SURELY NOBODY COULD DISAGREE NOW!

those who initiated or supported that disgraceful invasion have been party 
to that country’s utter destruction.  and, except under one condition, i 
Curse you for it.  the condition is that you put your Self on the 
backburner, double your efforts to innerstand what is REALLY going on in 
this world, and redouble your efforts to resist the Evil smartyboots 
Ignorance which threatens us all.
UP!
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u cant understand the world without innerstanding yourself
the up! 0028 // 02, 06
la- la- la- lap-toppling da system!
Friends And Fixtures, Farewell
u cant innerstand yourself without understanding the world
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.. contents...
p.02  Ex-Hippy To Spend Google's Millions
p.06  Friends and Fixtures Farewell another spirit-thrilling extract from 
megatripolis at forever
p.09  Artist Michael Bowen Flees The American Dino, Discovers Civilisation 
In Europe, And Escapes Big Pharm’s Narco-Dream
p.11  MILLION WESTERN SOLDIERS CONDEMNED TO SICKNESS & DEATH
p.14  The Flying Saucer’s Apprentice  PART THREE by David Robert Lewis
"I'm just a guy... Jesus was just a guy, too, of course."
UP!


Ex-Hippy To Spend Google's Millions
The Times February 23, 2006
LARRY BRILLIANT would never have been appointed head of Google’s charity 
unit had a mischievous guru not thrown apples at the American as he was 
meditating at an Indian ashram in the 1970s.

Dr Brilliant was picked yesterday to run Google.org’s charitable 
foundation.  The 61-year-old former hippy was drawn to Google after he read 
the company’s “Don’t be evil” motto in its float prospectus last year and 
has spent the past 6 months in talks with the founders about how best to 
use the foundation’s cash for charitable causes.

Sergei Brin and Larry Page, Google’s founders, chose the unconventional 
doctor, who was once a personal physician to members of the Grateful Dead, 
the psychedelic rock band, because they seek to do “good not evil” with 
their new-found billions.

On paper, the trained physician and former leading light in the World 
Health Organisation (WHO) is the perfect candidate.  He is a child of the 
Sixties who travelled from Woodstock to India and back in search of 
enlightenment and who ended up leading the campaign to eradicate smallpox 
in the sub-continent.  At the same time he is a pioneer in California’s 
Silicon Valley, where he has used the money he made to build a big, 
successful Third World health charity.

Google.org is a jumble of well-meaning charitable funds and foundations 
started almost on an ad hoc basis by the Google founders.  Dr Brilliant’s 
mission is to bring them together and to define their “mission and 
strategic goals”.

Dr Brilliant said: “I have great admiration for Google’s technical 
contributions to society and believe that it can make an equally great 
impression through philanthropy.”

The doctor lived a fairly conventional existence as a philosophy student, 
but turned to medicine after he found out his father was dying of 
cancer.  In 1970, aged 26, he also had cancer diagnosed.  He took time off 
and became involved with the psychedelic movement.  After starring in the 
film sequel to Woodstock, he was paid by Warner Brothers in Indian Airline 
tickets and left America to seek enlightenment at an ashram.

However, his guru would not let him meditate in peace, throwing apples at 
him every time he was spotted in the lotus position.
 >> he was trying too hard, see?  too ‘hardworking’.

The guru, Neem Karoli Baba, told him that instead he should help to save 
India from a smallpox epidemic.  After years of persistence, he led a 
100,000-strong team of WHO doctors that vaccinated the entire country.

More recently, Dr Brilliant founded The Well, a pioneering internet 
community that helped to start the revolution that created companies such 
as Yahoo!, Google and eBay.
UP!


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there is not a single person on this planet who is a Holocaust Denier.  not 
one, despite all the organised propaganda that has, at great expense, been 
daily dripped into our minds.

many, and increasing daily, question the actual number killed but NOBODY 
denies that a large number of jews were horribly killed.  whether it was 
more (or worse) than the current Iraqi Holocaust or the African Holocaust 
or the American Indian Holocaust is for history to decide and for free & 
open debate to inform.  interestingly, the Ignorance involved in these 
other examples has consistently under-estimated the numbers killed.

(believe me, since it’s maybe even the single biggest Holy Cow on the 
planet today and obviously a suitable target for the UP!, i did a long 
search on this subject.  but it turned out too long to publish here, and 
too heated and confused to be worth the hassle involved in making it public 
- by which i mean the organised jewish fanatics who take potshots at anyone 
who raises their head above the parapet - ask ken livingstoned!  but i’ll 
send it to anyone who would like to know some more FACTS on this whole issue.)

and there is one more issue, which you might wish to call Holocaust 
Denial.  and that is whether there actually was a deliberate organised 
campaign to specifically eradicate jews.  what about the gypsies, gays and 
all the others, were they sort of accidentally swept up along with the 
Overall Objective?  weren’t the jews mostly used as industrial slaves and 
worked to death, i mean weren’t they more use to the efficient germans 
alive?  you could, you see, argue whether the Slaves, Savages and 
Insurgents were killed as a policy or not,  ask yourself what YOU think :)
UP!


Bush in India: Not Welcome
Arundhati Roy
On his triumphalist tour of India and Pakistan, where he hopes to wave 
imperiously at people he considers potential subjects, President Bush has 
an itinerary that's getting curiouser and curiouser.

Plan One for his March 2 pit stop in New Delhi was to have him address 
parliament, but when a not inconsequential number of MPs threatened to 
heckle him, it was hastily shelved.

Plan Two was for him to address the masses from the ramparts of the 
magnificent Red Fort, where the Indian prime minister traditionally 
delivers his Independence Day address.  But, surrounded as it is by the 
predominantly Muslim population of Old Delhi, it was considered a security 
nightmare.

So now we're into Plan Three: he speaks from Purana Qila, the Old Fort.

Ironic, no?  The only safe public space for a man who’s recently been so 
enthusiastic about India's modernity is a crumbling medieval fort!

Since the Purana Qila also houses the Delhi zoo, his audience will be a few 
hundred caged animals and an approved list of caged "eminent persons." 
They're mostly rich folk who live in our poor country like captive animals, 
incarcerated by their own wealth, locked and barred in their gilded cages, 
protecting themselves from the threat of the vulgar and unruly multitudes 
whom they’ve systematically dispossessed over the centuries.

Will the gorillas cheer him on, the gibbons curl their lips, the 
brow-antlered deer sneer, the chimps make rude noises, the owls hoot, the 
lions yawn and the giraffes bat their beautiful eyelashes?  Will the crocs 
recognise a kindred soul?  Will the CEOs agree?
 >> u bet!

But worse is to come.  Bush will be taken to visit Gandhi's memorial in 
Rajghat.  He's not the only war criminal the Indian government has invited 
to lay flowers at Rajghat - recently we had the Burmese dictator General 
Than Shwe, no shrinking violet himself.  But when Bush places flowers on 
that famous slab of highly polished stone, millions of Indians will 
wince.  It will be as though he’s poured a pint of blood on Gandhi’s memory.

We really would prefer that he didn't. George W. Bush, the President of the 
United States of America, world nightmare incarnate, is just not welcome.
UP!


Big Decision To Make?  Sleep Onnit, or Have A Puff
New York Times Feb 21, 2006
Dutch psychologists found that people struggling to make complex decisions 
did best when they were distracted and were unable to think consciously 
about the choice.  The research not only backs up the common advice to 
"sleep on it" when facing difficult choices, but it also suggests that the 
unconscious brain can actively reason as well.
http://www.kurzweilai.net/email/newsRedirect.html?newsID=5323&m=5435
up!

Rats In A Maze Take A Moment To Remember, But In Reverse
When rats pause in running through a maze, they play back their memory of 
points along their route, but in reverse order.  The discovery may provide 
a deep insight into how memory works in humans.  The reverse replay 
mechanism seems to be part of a neural editing process in which memories 
are selected, combined and stored as a set of edited...
http://www.kurzweilai.net/email/newsRedirect.html?newsID=5299&m=5435
up!

How to Survive a Robot Uprising
In a new book by that name, roboticist Daniel H. Wilson offers humorous 
advice on evading and outsmarting robots as a literary device to combat 
dystopian robot scenarios while serving as a state-of-the-art robotics primer.
http://www.kurzweilai.net/email/newsRedirect.html?newsID=5298&m=5435
up!

Remember To Smell The Flowers As You Carry Your Load
A water bearer in China had two large pots, each hung on the ends of 
a  pole which he carried across his neck.  One of the pots had a crack in 
it while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of 
water.   At the end of the long walk from the stream to the house, the 
cracked  pot arrived only half full.

For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only 
one and a half pots of water to his house.

Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, for which it 
was made.  But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, 
and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had 
been  made to do.

One day, after two years of “bitter failure”, it spoke to the water bearer 
by the stream.  "I am ashamed of myself, because this crack in my side 
causes water to leak out all the way  back to your house".

The bearer replied, "Did you notice that there are flowers on your side of 
the path, but not on the other side?  That's because, knowing about your 
flaw, I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while 
we walk back, you water them.  For two years I ‘ve been able to pick these 
beautiful flowers to decorate the table.  Without you being just the way 
you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house."

We each have our own unique flaw.  But it's these flaws that make our lives 
together so  interesting and rewarding!  You've just got to take each 
person for what they are and find the good in them.

To all of my crackpot friends, have a great day, and thanks for all the 
flowers!
[thanks to philthi mckeswick]
UP!
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TEXT JOCKEY // TJ PHRASER (Fraser Clark) & THE MEDIA EVOLUTION
MIXING THE TRACTS LIVE ON THE KEYBOARD
@ A MEDIA-MEME RATE OF 160 IPP *
* Ideas Per Paragraph
TO SUBSCRIBE SOMEONE, WRITE I wanna get UP! TO fraser at parallel-youniversity.com
TO UNSUBSCRIBE, HIT REPLY WITH REMOVE IN THE SUBJECT BOX
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         )))))((/
__,,,,_{ô¿ô}_,,,,__    the caravanserai* club
* a hostelry with spacious courtyards where camel caravans put up.
Late April Late May - Sahara Desert + Atlas Mountains, Morocco.
(keep this handy in case u suddenly get that feeling: i gotta get outa here!)
when i stopped putting on public edutainments, i started taking little 
trips abroad for my health, sanity, and natural curiosity. at first i went 
alone, tho i tried to persuade a cuppla frens, but you know how frens can b!
then, 2 years ago, a buddy came with me to spain.  in malta that spring 3 
people were with me.   in August in croatia there were 5!  and in Greece 
last Spring there were 7 of us!  and of course people join us along the way.
with morocco this spring, because it’s so near and familiar, it looks like 
there could be 10-20 people coming along!  imagine!

it’s a new kinda clubbing, travel clubbing, which i've called the 
Caravanserai Club. it goes away once or twice a year, during off-peak.  i 
announce a great city in a foreign country that's not too expensive to get 
to, and anybody who wants to comes along, independently!
more details over next few weeks
YOU DO NOT NEED TO INFORM ANYONE THAT U R COMING, BUT, IF U LIKE, CONTACT 
ME AT:
fraser at parallel-youniversity.com
UP!


Making Our Own Heaven
by Henry Makow Ph.D.
The world often seems like a stuffy public toilet without ventilation.

This is because Protagorus' dictum "Man Is The Measure Of All Things" is 
the official religion.

Modern culture mostly consists of reflections of our degenerate selves, a 
"wilderness of mirrors" as T.S. Eliot said.
 >> a guy who worked for a bank most of his life and read greek.

We inhale our own fumes.
The religion of man is "humanism "or "illuminism."

Plato tried to correct Protagorus.  "God and not man is the measure of all 
things."

We didn't listen to Plato.
 >> correction:  most of humanity did and still do.  it’s the elite who didn’t.

God is now banished from public life.  When was the last time a Divine 
Standard was applied to anything?  That would be like a breath of fresh air.
 >> i’d call it an Objective Standard.  and megatripolis{@forever is 
exactly that breath of fresh air!

J. Edgar Hoover said, "The individual is handicapped by coming face-to-face 
with a "conspiracy so monstrous he cannot believe it exists."

The Illuminati, a Luciferian secret society, the highest echelon of 
Freemasonry, controls the world.  (That's their logo on the US dollar with 
the words "we did it!" in Latin.)

Lucifer represents man's rebellion against natural and moral laws i.e. 
God's design.  The Luciferians are very rich.  They need to short circuit 
God's plan in order to impose their "New World Order."

We are being inducted into a Luciferian cult via the mass media and 
education.  It promotes our animal instincts because we are to be their 
cattle and servants.

The Illuminati have declared war on God and the human race.  We are cannon 
fodder, human sacrifice.

The human race has suffered more than enough duplicity and degradation to 
justify revolt.  But we have been programmed by occult magicians to accept 
our suffering as inevitable, necessary and even heroic.
http://savethemales.ca/

BUT GET YOUR TIMEDANCING SHOES ON!

Friends and Fixtures Farewell

AN EXTRACT FROM
megatripolis at forever
the out-of-your-head-breaking futurist e-novella
from club saviour Fraser Clark

THE STORY SO FAR
Nothing has yet happened, except that time has been running so long it must 
have almost run out - or so most people thought at the time of the 
following Primal Event.
The citizens of Megatripolis, the Future Perfect State, to which our 
species finally evolved, spend much of their lives exploring their 
historical roots (what else to do?)
By far the most popular tourist sites in their History are the 2/3 Cusp 
Virtual Leap Era in the Over-Developed West area of the original planet 
Earth, and Cleopatra's time in Egypt (mostly elderly ladies, though 
everyone's been back there at least once).
However, the younger, hipper Megatripolitans have recently got caught up in 
a new craze, that of re-living the previous time-dances of the early and 
even pre-Megatripolitans.
The following, the single most visited life, is the very first such 
journey, lived by Captain Pilgrim Buchanan, whose well-documented Time- 
explorations, with other Knights Temporal, employing the Nectar Chip, later 
played such a pivotal role in securing the original state of Megatripolis 
in time, if still not yet in space.

NOTE: early time-trips were very approximate affairs, and many overlaps 
with the YOUniversal Unconscious and beyonditall at singularity occurred which 
no effort by GodThrong at Service.Org  can totally eliminate.

NOW READ  ON.

After Victor/Caleb-to-be beamed out his Honesty Path rap,  events began to 
accelerate.  Though we’d now secured our position by altering an 
insignificant detail in History [I’m now aware how non-insignificant our 
tinkering had been!] the Concrete Boys were unquestionably getting closer 
with every hour we hung around this time space.  Lady Anne had dreamed 
they’d broken down her door the night before, and naturally we knights took 
such dreams most seriously.

Of course we were worried for ourselves, but we were much more worried that 
they would find Victor  too soon!  For this man’s mind was crucial - both 
for the Future, and for our own search for a “Left Hand Path” to 
Megatripolis.  The Concrete Boys must not trace him!

And we were preparing for our next Chip when a truly amazing ‘event’ 
occurred.  A Time-Shattering Event! An email, titled ‘GOD SOS’, appeared on 
Victor’s screen!  He had created us!  Such was the conclusion we jumped 
to.  He had created a future that included us!

 From the point of view of our own research, of course, our working 
assumption had been proved correct!  Whether conscious of it or not, Victor 
knew about the Future Perfect State!  Perhaps he was even one of those 
early castaway Megatripolitans they speak of who got stranded in history.

Despite the Massive Risk of being spotted, instead of chipping out of then 
we plugged our equipment in and initiated preparations for entering 
Victor’s psychic space.  We absolutely could not let such a chance go by, 
and could only pray that going into him might actually help us ‘disappear’.

Which is when the second, this time totally terrifying, Event occurred.  We 
had double-spliced the primary cortex of Victor’s Imagination circuits, 
using the limited supplies in our tool box, with the central channel 
from/to YOUniversal at superconscious, and Morningstar was in the very act of 
making a test run connection of this complex to the Higher Emotional Brain 
(technically a fractal within his physical brain) when suddenly, with a 
sound like the puncturing of membrane in the very fabric of space/Time, the 
Concrete Boys were upon us!

Three of them, all in Male bodies.  One had chosen to look like Darth 
Vader.  The second was a Viking chieftain.  And the third embodied this 
grotesquely ugly, spiked blob such as Chad the Cynic might have 
created.  They were amazingly fast too.  In the micronan it took us to 
digitalise their virtual bodies, they’d stripped us of our actual personal 
information.  Age, height, weight, hair and eye colour - they’d recorded 
them already!  Sensors, indeed, were nibbling my chest measurements and 
inserting themselves into my DNA when Prince Rupert cloaked me with a 
hearty “All For One And Free for All!” before whirling round to project 
pure streams of mystical invective in their direction:

“MEGATRIPOLIS FOREVER!  POWER TO THE ANCESTORS!  We’re all children of the 
one Great Cell, right, and, when you drop all the competition, don’t you 
just feeeel it?!  Love really IS the answer, man!  Myth embodies the 
nearest approach to absolute truth that can be stated in words, you 
actually know this.  The only..”

It was working!  While the Boyos hesitated, confused by being unable to 
register anything “factual and quantitative” in the Prince’s stream of 
consciousness, my wits were recovering.  My chest measurements returned to 
privacy.  And my UC password!  My god, they’d even grabbed that!  Meanwhile 
Morningstar was giving them her own kind of (subtler) blast:

“Come, my Sweet Brothers, let’s make love beneath these stars of infinite 
space, we can do it if we try, why not? nobody will know! here we are, we 
all really want to
 it’s in our natures, so why not? oh yeah, feel these 
soft breasts
 and here
 Love, Love, Love IS the Answer...”

They were falling back in disorder!  They’d programmed and kitted 
themselves for Battle and were getting Love; unprepared, threatened, they 
oozed back behind the event horizon.  They’d learn a lesson, obviously, and 
would return with a re-jigged attacktic while we, equally, would hang even 
looser still, and surf each moment’s spontaneity to counteract it.  Neither 
of us dared allow ourselves to contemplate whether Order or Chaos was the 
fabric of Infinity.  But clearly Chaos is the Infinite, I see that 
unambiguously when the Concrete is far behind me.

Talk about shocked, I’d been rooted to the spot like a rabbit in 
headlights.  To have lost, even for a moment, my chest measurements to 
Eternity’s guardians sent deep icy shivers up and down my chakras.

And yet, as so often in a Knight Temporal’s life, Fate’s acceleration 
necessitated that this sink into me in delayed reaction form, only to be 
allowed out under the bed clothes or in the privacy of the toilet.

FOR YET ANOTHER ‘SOMETHING’ HAD MANIFESTED THAT BROKE EVERY TENET OF OUR 
OWN MIND SETS!


The Old Man is just an ordinary God!
In the Beginning, in the first crystallisation to drip from 
beyonditall at singularity, when all the gods lay   stunned on clouds, the Old 
Man had woken first.
Instantly grokking the situation, He then stirred each of the others to 
welcome Him or Her to “My Place,” and explained that He’d chosen them to be 
“My Arch Angels”. “You’ll be in charge of the winds,” “You’ll govern the 
Oceans”  Sol was put in charge of Earth’s central heating and fecundity.
Lucy’s resistance group begin a campaign to stir up a rebellion.  The 
Megatripolitans are the first to join because, though they’ve claimed back 
the right to self perfection, the Old Man is refusing everyone their right 
to Eternity.
[ends]
GET megatripolis at forever HERE...
http://www.oneworldnet.co.uk/ebooks/index3.php
*******************************************
up!

Digital Books Start A New Chapter
  BusinessWeek, Feb. 27, 2006
Lighter devices, better displays, and the iPod craze could make digital 
books best-sellers!!!

Portable devices are becoming lighter and more appealing.  Books are being 
scanned into digital form by the thousands.  The most important step 
forward may be in "digital ink," the technology used for displaying letters 
on a screen.

E Ink has created a method for arranging tiny black and white capsules into 
words and images with an electronic charge.  Because no power is used 
unless the reader changes the page, devices with the technology could go as 
long as 20 books between battery charges.  The text also looks just as 
sharp as ink on a printed page, since each capsule is the size and pigment 
of a grain of laser-jet toner.
up!

Walter Cronkite: "With police wielding unprecedented powers to invade 
privacy, tap phones and conduct searches seemingly at random, our civil 
liberties are in a very precarious condition.
"Amid the clichés of the drug war, our country has lost sight of the 
scientific facts.  Amid the frantic rhetoric of our leaders, we've become 
blind to reality: The war on drugs, as it is currently fought, is too 
expensive, and too inhumane.
"But nothing will change until someone has the courage to stand up and say 
what so many politicians privately know: The war on drugs has failed."
http://www.drugpolicy.org
UP!


Artist Michael Bowen Flees The American Dino, Discovers Civilisation In Europe,
And Escapes Big Pharm’s Narco-Dream
I was born the last month of 1937.  Soon the usa corporate war freaks got 
very rich on ww2, and it wasn’t long before the corporate boys created a 
ghastly Wagnerian tangle of suffering that nobody ever needed anyway.

In 1940 I got a nasty touch of polio.  I lived in Beverly Hills, my 
playmates were the sons of the war lovers.  During the polio years my life 
was saved from the medical doctors’ ideas that I should live in an iron 
lung and die.  My doctor father and my Vedanta practising grandmother 
killed the polio virus by raising my temperature to a huge degree.  The 
corporate doctors who were experimenting with putting people in horrible 
iron lungs didn’t like what my father did.  Even though it saved my life.

By the time I could play again I had learned I had to start thinking on my 
feet early in life.  I wanted to be an artist and nothing else.  Laying 
flat on my back for 2 years with polio made my brain flow around in art 
thought soup.  I grew up reading all the racist junk about the sneaky Japs 
and the happy tap dancing Negroes.  Somehow none of it made sense.  The 
black people were definitely not happy and the Japanese made incredible 
art.  I found that in my father’s library.

Besides, my playmates Gary and Lindsey Crosby were miserable in their dad’s 
mansion near ours.  Gary killed himself later on.  I had to escape from 
Beverly Hills.  I had a plan.  Join the air force and be a normal 
artist.  I thought that might be too nuts for them and they’d throw me 
out.  I was 17, my mother was drunk every day because Uncle Benjie was 
dead.  Assassinated at mom’s girl friend’s house, Virginia Hill, who lived 
around the corner.

Mom signed the papers and I was in the air force.  I was too nutty for them 
and they did kick me out.  I was then free of the Korean War draft and free 
to be an artist.  I moved in with the now world famous Ed Kienholz the 
assemblagist.  He taught me how to survive even when my back hurt.  I left 
Beverly Hills for good.  Ed and I paid 7 dollars a month rent for a shack 
in an L.A. alley.  I began to paint.

After a year I got tired of eating white bread and tomato soup raw from a 
can and started living with John Carradine’s wife.  She bought me a new 
Cadillac convertible.  She divorced the great actor who drank so much 
scotch with barbiturates that he thought he was in Spain if the sun came 
out.  We moved to romantic San Francisco.  On the way to San Francisco we 
stopped to see my dad who was living in Uncle Benjie’s old house in Las 
Vegas.  Dad sent me out to one of his friend’s casinos so he could have a 
“talk” with my new bride.

We found a house in San Francisco.  One day Sonia told me she’d had sex 
with my dad that night in Vegas to make the family closer.  She was also 
pregnant; to this day we don’t know if my oldest son is my son or my 
brother.  For some reason none of this seemed odd.  After all I was finally 
in San Francisco.  There was something about San Francisco that always 
enchanted me.  My mother had a boyfriend that I loved too.  He built the 
Flamingo hotel, and casino in Vegas and really started the town.  I first 
learned about San Francisco when uncle Benji, mom and I drove up the 
California coast to the city to see some of uncle Benjie's buildings there.


Sonia and I and little Michael were happy in San Francisco but, eventually, 
it was just me in the City.  I painted every day.  When the Beat generation 
arrived I was already in it.  We decided to change the world by living the 
bill of rights.  The corporate fascists didn’t like that, so they tried to 
kill us and drive us away.  They lost and we won.  We changed the world.  I 
loved painting and I worked hard at it.

My body started to hurt all the time.  I went to some doctors. they didn’t 
do anything  except give me pills that made me work harder.  My body hurt 
more.  Finally in the 70s and 80s people who had polio and lived started 
getting it again in weird ways.  Doctors kept giving me more pills.  One, 
without any tests, trades for my paintings.  In other words I gave him 
paintings and he said I had this new disease that everybody who ever had 
polio got.  He called it Post Polio Syndrome.  I gave him paintings he gave 
me pills.  But these pills were different.  They made me feel great.  I 
could work as much as I wanted and never hurt.  Later I found out the pills 
were called oxycontin.  And it was just like morphine.  You took them and 
you didn’t hurt so I took them and gave the dr more paintings.  The 
doctor’s office was a corporate office.  Soon it had a lot of paintings.

I was showing at the Whitney museum. and museums all over the world.  If I 
forgot to take the pills I would start to get sick, the dr said I needed to 
take the pills or I would get sick.  So I kept taking the pills, and making 
more paintings, and giving them to the corporate dr.  I didn’t hurt but I 
was afraid of running out of the pills and really getting sick.  Once I 
thought what a rotten thing to do to a Korean veteran.  I have to pay 15 
hundred dollars every month for the pills or I would get sick.  I noticed 
when a barrel of oil would go up in price so would the pills.  I asked a 
pharmacist if the pills were made of oil.  He said no, but when oil goes up 
so does everything else because of the corporations.  This seemed as crazy 
as everything else in Beverly Hills.  Finally I couldn’t stand it 
anymore.  Life became work for oxycontin.

My wife is Italian and our little boy is Italian, this meant we could live 
in the E.U.  I felt safer for my family.  In America I couldn’t send my 
little boy to school because the kids were on crazy pills sold by criminals 
with guns.  He couldn’t learn in a place like that.  We sold everything we 
had and moved to Europe.  But now I was addicted to legal narcotics!  The 
dr said I could get the morphine like oxycontin in Europe.

We got on a plane and came to Europe, and in Europe I went to the dr.  The 
dr said you are addicted to narcotics, I said yes, and showed him the paper 
that said the American dr said he was treating me with narcotics for post 
polio syndrome.

By this time something had broken in my back and I couldn’t walk 
anymore.  The American dr had said when this started that it’s probably the 
polio.  Probably?  It is or it isn’t.  The european doctors tested me. They 
said you need an operation not pills.  I said ok.  Tests were made.  An 
operation happened.

I have no more pain no matter how hard I work.  The Drs Here didn’t want 
money to operate either.  Now I can walk, paint, send my little boy to 
school.  These Drs are not corporate Drs and they are successfully getting 
me off narcotics which I never needed, because I never had post polio 
syndrome.  I was lied to, for 1500 dollars a month!  For a decade!

I think it’s bad to lie to a veteran.  Especially one from the Korean war 
which killed lots of Koreans for corporations while thinking they were 
making the world safe for democracy and the bill of rights which we Beat 
artists lived not just read.
Michael Bowen.  2006.
up!

"A nation of sheep will beget a government of wolves."  Edward R. Murrow.
up!

“Do not believe in anything simply because you have heard it.  Do not 
believe in anything simply because it is spoken and rumoured by many.  Do 
not believe in anything simply because it is found written in your 
religious books.  Do not believe in anything merely on the authority of 
your teachers and elders.  Do not believe in traditions because they have 
been handed down for many generations.  But after observation and analysis, 
when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good 
and benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it.  It is 
fearlessness, and it is love.” Buddha.
 >> why does nobody do cartoons of the buddha?  izzit because he genuinely 
rises above the merely personal?
UP!

“I do enjoy the UP!s, it's a great work you're doing...  a sort of 
extension of the Encyclopaedia Psychedelica for the internet age... All 
good wishes!”  Lokabandhu, UK.


A MILLION WESTERN SOLDIERS
CONDEMNED TO SICKNESS & DEATH
As Scandal Explodes
Why did the US Veterans Affairs Secretary, Anthony Principi, resign recently?

The Preventive Psychiatry Newsletter has written to its subscribers telling 
them the real reason was he’d been involved in a massive cover-up of the 
fact that Gulf War Syndrome was caused by the use of depleted uranium, 
according to the SF Bay View.

In the article Arthur Bernklau, executive director of Veterans for 
Constitutional Law, wrote that “thousands of our military have suffered and 
died from depleted uranium which has finally been identified as the cause 
of this sickness, eliminating the guessing.  The terrible truth is now 
being revealed.”

He goes on to detail several alarming statistics.
The historical disability rate amongst soldiers last century was about 5%, 
approaching 10% during Vietnam.
Due to the use of depleted uranium in the battlefield, however, 56% of the 
580,400 solders who served in Gulf War 1 were on Permanent Medical 
Disability by 2000.
11,000 Gulf War veterans are already dead.
Now 518,739 Gulf War Veterans, almost all of them, are currently on medical 
disability.

Principi, under orders from the Bush Administration, had allegedly been 
covering up the disastrous results of using depleted uranium since 2000.

With so many soldiers having serious health problems it has become 
impossible to keep secret.
http://www.freemarketnews.com/WorldNews.asp?nid=8018
 >> Just read your preview of this piece. All American cities are filling 
up with ex soldiers living on the street and eating out of the trash, 
anyone can see it.
michael bowen.
up!

Don’t Care About Bluddy Soldiers And Iraqis Dying?
Well, How About Depleted Uranium Contaminating Europe?!
Dr. Katsuma Yagasaki, a Japanese physicist at the University of the Ryukyus 
in Okinawa, has estimated that the atomicity equivalent of at least 400,000 
Nagasaki bombs has been released into the global atmosphere since 1991, 
from the use of depleted uranium munitions.

And Who’s Been Using Them?  Iran?  North Korea?  Iraq?

It is completely mixed into the planet’s atmosphere in one year.  The "smog 
of war" from Gulf War I was found in glaciers and ice sheets globally a 
year later.
http://tinyurl.com/qxkoq]
 >> let’s be as fair as today’s insanity allows, let’s say we have to give 
up either depleted uranium munitions OR stop building nuclear sites, fair 
enuff? :(
up!

"Did the use of Uranium weapons in Gulf War II result in contamination of 
Europe?  Evidence from the measurements of the Atomic Weapons Establishment 
(AWE), Aldermaston, Berkshire, UK, raises this question" reported the 
Sunday Times Online (February 19, 2006) in a shocking scientific study 
authored by British scientists Dr. Chris Busby and Saoirse Morgan.

The highest levels of depleted uranium ever measured in the atmosphere in 
Britain, were transported on air currents from the Middle East and Central 
Asia; of special significance were those from the Tora Bora bombing in 
Afghanistan in 2001, and the "Shock & Awe" bombing during Gulf War II in 
Iraq in 2003.

After the "Shock and Awe" campaign in Iraq in 2003, very fine particles of 
depleted uranium were captured with larger sand and dust particles in 
filters in Britain.

These particles traveled in 7-9 days from Iraqi battlefields as far as 2400 
miles away.

The radiation measured in the atmosphere quadrupled within a few weeks of 
the 2003 campaign, and at one of the 5 monitoring locations, the levels 
twice required an official alert to the British Environment Agency.

In addition to depleted uranium data gathered in previous studies on Kosovo 
and Bosnia by Dr. Busby, the Aldermaston air monitoring data provided a 
continuous record of depleted uranium levels in Britain from the other 
recent wars.

EXTENSIVE VIDEO NEWS FOOTAGE OF THE 2003 IRAQ WAR, INCLUDING FALLUJAH IN 
2004, PROVIDED IRREFUTABLE DOCUMENTED EVIDENCE THAT THE US HAS UNETHICALLY 
AND ILLEGALLY USED DEPLETED URANIUM MUNITIONS ON CITIES AND OTHER CIVILIAN 
POPULATIONS.

These military actions are in direct violation of not only the 
international conventions, but also violate US military law because the US 
is a signatory to The Hague and Geneva Conventions and the 1925 Geneva Gas 
Protocol.

DEPLETED URANIUM WEAPONRY MEETS THE DEFINITION OF A WEAPON OF MASS 
DESTRUCTION (WMD) IN 2 OUT OF 3 CATEGORIES UNDER US CODE TITLE 50, CHAPTER 
40 SEC. 2302.
up!

Dead Man Wanki- eh Walking
RUSSIA WARNS U.S. AGAINST STRIKING IRAN
Gen. Yuri Baluyevsky, the chief of Russia's general staff, warned the 
United States against attacking Iran.  "A military scenario can't be ruled 
out," he was quoted as saying by Russian news agencies."

IRAN: ''US THREATS OF MILITARY ACTION ARE BUT EXPRESSIONS OF ITS DESPERATION.''

The Iranians defend themselves with this: "The US, the Zionist usurper 
entity, and their band of bullies would do well to kick their habit of 
threats of military action, especially as the rulers in Washington are well 
briefed on just what they might face in Iran should they get carried away 
with their megalomania," concluded the editorial.  IRNA
http://tinyurl.com/d3v5b
UP!
(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o
  the UP! is a global edutainment round-up, broadcast weekly to =[13,799]=
Alternative// Activist// Zippy// Trance// New Age// Peace folks
recommended to the Parallel YOUniversity// Megatripolis Dance Dept as
  "showing signs of life".  Since recipients forward it widely to their own 
lists & sites,
we conservatively estimate 50,000+ direct recipients.
A further 40,000 read it on the YOUniversity's site.
And, because of its 'mix' of 'specialist' & 'general' content,
it's increasingly being posted on a variety of sites worldwide,
making an estimated total weekly readership of =[275,000]=
(\o/)(\o/)\(o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o

“I need my fix of UP!s polychromatic anti-news!”. James Elias, Amsterdam.




THE ZIPPIES //FEEDBACK

On the Zippie definition, I recall in the early 90s an alt. newsgroup of 
that name, and the dream-like description of one 'sitting beneath a tree 
using a laptop'!
Zen Inspired Professional Pagan
editor, birminghamrecords.
up!
(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o
  the UP! is a global edutainment round-up, broadcast weekly to =[14,002]=
Alternative// Activist// Zippy// Trance// New Age// Peace folks
recommended to the Parallel YOUniversity// Megatripolis Dance Dept as
  "showing signs of life".
Since recipients forward it widely to their own lists & sites,
we conservatively estimate 50,000+ direct recipients.
A further 40,000 read it on the YOUniversity's site.
And, because of its 'mix' of 'specialist' & 'general' content,
it's increasingly being posted on a variety of sites worldwide,
making an estimated total weekly readership of =[275,000]=
(\o/)(\o/)\(o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o

The Flying Saucer’s Apprentice
PART THREE

"I'm just a guy... Jesus was just a guy, too, of course."
by David Robert Lewis
What am I doing here?  I was always asking myself that as the Zippy 
phenomenon continued to, well, continue.  Looking at it from the next year, 
2004, the problem is not too difficult to sort out.

While Fraser was being touted by the press as some kind of cult-figure 
surrounded by a horde of acolytes, on the one hand, the reality was 
completely different -- there were no 'true-believers" only variations of 
what can only be described as a rag-tag army of techno-hippies and 
cyber-anarchists -- the reinforcements he’d been looking for since the 
Sixties.

Though people like Earth Girl and Michael John seem to pop-up in story 
after story about the Zippies, it’s probably because they were already 
well-known, and Americans to boot.  Very little is ever said about the 
actual tribe that accompanied Clark from London, and this criticism is not 
a new one.  In fact, in a piece posted on the web shortly after the tour 
fell-apart, an anonymous author makes the startling point: "Take the very 
question of who these people are: How were they educated? What parts of 
Britain are they from? What do they do for a living? Who are their parents?"

And comments: "This was barely touched upon for those who were the nucleus 
of this movement, and not at all for the late-comers, who form, by 
Marshalls estimates, about half of the 200,000 zippies."

I'm not trying to include myself, here, but Americans like to honk their 
own horn, and it is probably safe to say that the closer you were to the 
nucleus surrounding Clark, the least likely you were to actually get heard 
- since the man was quite capable of telling everybody to shut-up while 
having a conversation about topical profundities like "we don't want to be 
all commercial or have stars" .  The thought police and people like John 
Bagby were only too happy to oblige in following orders.

We return from yet another fashionable appearance at the Marconi Convention 
Centre, go up to the apartment where one of Clark's goons, from the bad 
side of London clubland, asks me if I'm gay.  His name is Ronnie, and he's 
shooting a movie about the tour, and "do you get it in the backside, you 
know, like in the arse?"

"Can't say I do....do you?” I want to reply, but instead I play dumb, not 
wishing to appear so ultimately stupid, but then what am I actually doing 
here, making history with a capital H, with a bunch of gay-bashers in San 
Francisco of all places?  According to Ronnie, the Zippies are having 
trouble with a bunch of club queens (in particular one promoter) and they 
need a couple of extra zippies, you know, like for support.

The totally anonymous monkey creature inside of me still wants to shout 
out: Sure I'm a Zippy supporter, what club soccer do you watch?  Zippies 
FNL, Zippies Guinness Cup or the Zippies United Local?

Except, where I'm from, this kind of cultural bickering is taken 
seriously.  Politicians often feel the need to feel popular by rigging the 
polls, bussing in supporters who have no idea what they’re supporting, and 
press ganging people with little else to do, except go along for the 
ride.  I ask myself the question -- am I just one of the crowd -- the mob 
-- the passing parade whose presence has no effect on the outcome of events?

I have no answers.  The reality is that I've spent the last ten years 
thinking a particular event was possibly significant, when in fact the 
truth is, it was as insignificant and impossible to believe as King Kong on 
rollerblades, or as futile as owning one of those quaint do-hickeys for 
someone else's brand new Beetle (1960s reissue) -- you know it does 
something probably useful, you know it’s probably vital to the workings of 
the man and his car engine - but what!?  If it falls out and the car still 
goes, you do nothing, tell nobody, and go about your business blissfully 
unaware, and for all they know, internal combustion could be the result of 
a wormhole in spacetime.

Your Messiah will arrive later than expected.
 >> it was certainly about internal combustion :)

THERE were always elements of the messianic about Clark's mission.  Part of 
his charm and allure was in recasting the Yuppie as a Hippie holding a 
computer, with an innocent vision of dancing outdoors in Mother Nature 
amidst a bigger dose of Millennium Fever than most.  Indeed, there’s 
nothing wrong with being characterised as some kind of holy man hauling a 
laptop while riding on a donkey, even if this makes you look like the Jesus 
Christ of rave culture as Time or Newsweek would have it.  Or Christopher 
Columbus as I still maintain.  It’s another thing entirely to actually tout 
yourself as G-d, or to claim to embody the spiritual physicality of a 
Christ, without stopping to consider that there could well be a pantheon of 
gods out there that include Buddha and even the Zoroastrian embodiment of 
the great god Mazda?

We arrived one night at Kat Mckenna's houseboat in Sausalito somewhere, and 
we are instantly thronged by worshippers who insist that I’m Krishna and 
Fraser is like God.  They all circle us like pixies at a fairy wedding, and 
dance and sing a song too horrible to imagine.  I think it has something to 
do with Fraser's birthday, but I’m too stoned to remember anything more 
than that.

It would be a while until the infamous "Smells Like Zippy Spirit -- The 
Stillbirth Of A Supertribe" piece in OUTside Magazine , the outdoors 
Rolling Stone, was published, along with the Fraser quote "I'm just a 
guy... Jesus was just a guy, too, of course."  I could never figure out 
exactly why Hampton Sides wanted to pronounce the Zippies Dead on Arrival, 
but then you have to figure in the exploitation angle.  The fact that none 
of us were getting paid, and as the "new supertribe" multiplied, so did the 
number of promoters eyeing his bank account.
 >> i wasn’t claiming i was jesus, i was saying jesus was just a guy, like 
moi.  who, incidentally, predicted that many would come after him who would 
go further.

Being so close to a superego like Clark’s can be dangerous.  It’s one thing 
to stand next to a Mandela or a Tutu, and to get a whiff of actual 
greatness, but being situated next to Clark, at any time of the day, was 
like being absorbed by an unstable supernova, his ability to make even the 
smallest detail seem completely trivial and significant, and to literally 
mesmerise your mind with his bard-like, rhyming verse - the man, as so many 
critics like to tell us, had the real gift of the gab, and was indeed some 
kind of leprechaun spouting poetry and persuading you that things were, far 
from being stillborn and over, just starting!
 >> and now with the zippy meme sweeping india china and japan, hmm.

When the "Here come the Zippies" story was breaking on the West Coast of 
America during 1994, Bill Griffith, the creator of a cartoon character 
named "Zippy" expressed his concern that people like myself were simply 
"cashing-in".  Even though I couldn’t afford to wash my socks, we were 
"cashing-in", perhaps on Zippy himself?

"I've always longed to be a Mascot" says Zippy the Pinhead in the comic 
strip - "Yippie, its Zippie", about a "bunch of weirdoes who guzzle mashed 
enzymes and get communal and stuff."  "Good!" says Zippy's 
ultra-rationalist partner Griffy, "Fantabulous!  Now I'll get this out on 
th' Internet and we can start licensing - I see "Zippie" screensavers, 
"Zippie" flavoured teas!  Zippie" clam dippies!!  You'll be huge!!."

While it seemed, to an ultra-rationalist, that Clark was making money off 
the odd appearance, cadging a dollar here and there, and generally getting 
around by conning his way through the masses of hysterical new age 
wannabes, all of whom wanted to be in on the action, he was far from being 
a Sai Baba or Maharaji.   In fact being Jesus Christ was not all that 
desirable, since one of the side-effects of being cast as an impoverished 
beggar on a donkey was that the Apple powerbook was always out of date or 
on loan, a simple prop.  It was more like a marketing opportunity that 
failed to alert brand managers or the faithful to some potential high-tech 
shenanigans that could conceivably have enriched those whose lives depended 
upon making money.

Clark raised the issue of his status as "guru" one night.

"I'm reading 'On the Guru Trail', what do you think?” he asked

"Dunno." I said.  “We haven't eaten for days."

Aside from the enormous marketing opportunities which failed to 
materialise, and the claim to a demographic that could be measured in the 
hundreds of thousands, and which still today measures something in the 
absurd region of a 300 million plus audience on the Asian Subcontinent 
(according to Outlook India), there were also the associations with 
technology companies that were exploitative, the media which exploited us, 
and the expectations that if we were not already being exploited, or 
exploiting those teen spirits, then who the hell were we to even ask for 
money?

Picture a scene in a boho cafe off Haight St, Clark surrounded by hordes of 
teens who all want a piece of zippy nippy, and the promoters of this zippy 
spirit who all want a piece of teen.  Either way, I'm stuffed.  Whether I 
like it or not, I still end up being some kind of purveyor of jail-bait at 
the end of a hook threaded by sharky school-moms who only want Fraser for 
dinner.

Cut to the Moscone Centre technofair, innocent me, accosted by adult 
technotourists, and still I go down in the history books as , "a new 
species of gibbon" to use Hampton Sides' phrase.  Yet another appearance at 
the same venue, packed to capacity with San Francisco's youth.  Fraser 
laughs and shows me the Zippy the Pinhead cartoon.  I am introduced to an 
overfed, leering man in a suit as "a zippy," and still I can't even get a 
drink.  Eventually I manage a glass of mineral water - apparently zippies 
live exclusively on rare minerals mined at the bottom of the ocean.  They 
don't eat meat or drink wine like you or I.

The crazy thing in this image is I imagine my beatific facto-facto 
girlfriend there too.  I imagine her, fending off the teenagers, the both 
of us escaping from this weird scientific laboratory from the 
‘50s.  Dissected.  Redirected.  Injected.  All because of the west coast 
fantasy industry.  The need by the media to possess your soul and to 
literally own a piece of the new energy without actually paying for it - 
the new media, the new techno resource -- and all because of Clark's 
original sin - the neat switch that created Zippy as the supposed antidote 
to the Yuppie and the result into Jesus Christ with a laptop computer on a 
donkey.  Ashes and sackcloth beating a bible of "RavElations” on your forehead.
 >> the name of my book on the rave scene, the Book of RavElations.

Son - you can be a technopagan and still work in an office if you want 
to.  Girl -- you can be at an office party and still live in the 
wilderness.  We can all liberate our desktops from the dance floor.  We can 
all club ourselves conscious, at least if there's still something conscious 
left to club for.
(continued and ended in next UP!)

a l l g o o d t h i n g s c o m e t o a n e n d
which don't justify nuttin'
U U U U U U U U U U U U U U U U U U U U UP P P P P P P P P P PP P P P P P P 
P P P P P P P P
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SO RECOMMEND SOMEONE 2DAY!!!!!!!!!!
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