JOURNAL ARCHIVE: 10/03/08 4:57 PM
He told me about how his son, despite his advanced college degree in mathematics, went to work as a U.S. Forest Ranger. That reminds me in turn that I was looking at a job with the U.S. Forestry in Missoula, Montana, before I took that job with Microsoft in 1998. That in turn reminds me of thoughts I have had that my double, who is the real Kerry Burgess, is himself a U.S. Federal Marshal. I also have rank with the U.S. Marshal service. That also reminds me that my wife Phoebe knew I was a part-time officer with the U.S. Park Police while I attended the U.S. Naval Academy. I have thought several times also about memories of how one of the few land-based duty stations for the U.S. Navy rating of Fire Controlman was as a U.S. Foresty Ranger. There was some other details I wanted to note her as well but it slips my mind now.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 03 October 2008 excerpt ends]
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: 09/17/07 11:16 AM
It is kind of spooky, for lack of a better term, to think back to that time in Antlers in 1999. All those people that I felt I had known for most of my life might have actually hardly known me.
There were some people that I recognized as family but that I didn't know very well, though. Primarily it was Warren's children. I can remember walking up and talking to his son, which seemed important.
I can't remember any of their names. I think Warren had one son and two daughters. Warren's son was a Forest Ranger, I think. Warren was telling me how he put him through college for a math degree and then he took that kind of job. He also referred to Micheal's death by commenting that his son had also lost a friend in a similar manner. There was a woman there that I can still somewhat visualize. I think she was one of Warren's daughters. I think she her husband was stationed at Fort Bragg with the Army.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 17 September 2007 excerpt ends]
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: http://hvom.blogspot.com/2012/05/you-got-it-backwards-brother.html - posted by H.V.O.M - Kerry Wayne Burgess 05:16 AM Pacific Time USA Tuesday 22 May 2012
I think this is the second time I have watched the DVD for the 1973 film "Soylent Green" although I'm not really certain. I know without looking it up in my journal that the first time I watched the DVD I referenced it in my blog that I had watched it for the first time. I thought of a lot of things as I watch it again tonight and among those is that it is kind of boring to watch again. I think of how "Charles" reminds me in physical appearance to my uncle back in the timeframe of that film. My memory of my uncle is nothing similar to that character "Charles" but the facial appearance, which probably also probably would not hold up to scrutiny of the actor compared to the person I knew, does still, regardless, make me think of my uncle from back in those days. When was that last time I saw him? Ah, yes, 1999. Funny. I can still visualize his newest wife in 1999 when we were in Antlers Oklahoma but I can't actually visualize him. I remember talking to his son the forest ranger who was a mathematics graduate.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 22 May 2012 excerpt ends]
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: From: Kerry Burgess
To: Kerry Burgess
Sent: Wed, April 19, 2006 6:13:57 PM
Subject: Re: I guess it's pretty obvious why the hell I am here.
Kerry Burgess wrote:
It is designed to kill me. Their weapon is time. They have all of it. I have an abundance of time misery. I am a risk to be managed. Because things happen around me that could be embarassing or costly or something else. I was thinking today of that time back in 1999. I wrote about this earlier but it is a good example. It was after that Melissa virus struck. I was calling around to notify my customers with some kind of instructions to help them. I was only getting their voice mail. Then I realized that a manager was laughing on the other side to my cube, at times almost hysterical sounding, and unusal under normal circumstances, and highly unusal for that day. Then I realized that the laughing would probably be overheard on the voice messages I was leaving.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 19 April 2006 excerpt ends]
[ Bill Gates-Microsoft-Corbis-Nazi the cowardly International Terrorist Organization violently against the United States of America actively instigate insurrection and subversive activity against the United States of America with all Bill Gates-Microsoft-Corbis-Nazi staff partners contributors employees contractors lawyers managers of any capacity as severely treasonous criminal accomplices and that are active unlawful obstructions, combinations, or assemblages, or rebellion against the authority of the United States that actively make it impracticable to enforce the laws of the United States in the United States and in the Severely Treasonous and Criminally Rebellious State of Washington by the ordinary course of judicial proceedings ]
http://community.seattletimes.nwsource.com/archive/?date=19980315&slug=2739689
The Seattle Times
Sunday, March 15, 1998
Author Clancy Plots Purchase Of Vikings
By Leonard Shapiro
The Washington Post
PRINCE FREDERICK, Md. - In his 1991 bestseller "The Sum of All Fears," author Tom Clancy writes of a nuclear bomb being detonated by Syrian terrorists at a Super Bowl in Denver between the San Diego Chargers and the late-rallying Minnesota Vikings, wiping out both teams and 60,000 people in the stadium.
"An embarrassing coincidence," said Clancy
http://www.e-reading.org.ua/bookreader.php/71211/Clancy_-_Rainbow_Six.html
Tom Clancy
Rainbow Six [ RACKETEER INFLUENCED AND CORRUPT ORGANIZATIONS US Title 18 ]
"I mean that the reason we have a federal law about environmental impact statements is that it's far easier to mess things up than it is to get them right. In the case of recombinant DNA, we can more easily change the genetic code than we can evaluate the effects those changes will cause a century from now. That sort of power is one that should be used with the greatest possible care. Not everyone seems to grasp that simple fact."
Which point was difficult to argue with, the senator had to concede gracefully. Brightling would be making that case before his committee in another week. Had that been the thing that had broken up the marriage of John and Carol Brightling? How very sad. With that observation, the senator made his excuses and headed off to join his wife.
"There's nothing new in that point of view." John Brightling's doctorate in molecular biology came from the University of Virginia, along with his M.D. "It started with a guy named Ned Ludd a few centuries ago. He was afraid that the Industrial Revolution would put an end to the cottage-industry economy in England. And he was right. That economic model was wrecked. But what replaced it was better for the consumer, and that's why we call it progress!" Not surprisingly, John Brightling, a billionaire heading for number two, was holding court before a small crowd of admirers.
"But the complexity-" One of the audience started to object.
"Happens every day-every second, in fact. And so do the things we're trying to conquer. Cancer, for example. No, madam, are you willing to put an end to our work if it means no cure for breast cancer? That disease strikes five percent of the human population worldwide. Cancer is a genetic disease. The key to curing it is in the human genome. And my company is going to find that key! Aging is the same thing. Salk's team at La Jolla found the kill-me gene more than fifteen years ago. If we can find a way to turn it off, then human immortality can be real. Madam - does the idea of living forever in a body of twenty-five years' maturity appeal to you?"
"But what about overcrowding?" The congresswoman's objection was somewhat quieter than her first. It was too vast a thought, too surprisingly posed, to allow an immediate objection.
"One thing at a time. The invention of DDT killed off huge quantities of disease-bearing insects, and that increased populations all over the world, didn't it? Okay, we are a little more crowded now, but who wants to bring the anopheles mosquito back? Is malaria a reasonable method of population control? Nobody here wants to bring war back, right? We used to use that, too, to control populations. We got over it, didn't we? Hell, controlling populations is no big deal. It's called birth control, and the advanced countries have already learned how to do it, and the backward countries can, too, if they have a good reason for doing so. It might take a generation or so," John Brightling mused, "but is there anyone here who would not want to be twenty-five again-with all the things we've learned along the way, of course. It damned well appeals to me!" he went on with a warm smile. With sky-high salaries and promises of stock options, his company had assembled an incredible team of talent to look at that particular gene. The profits that would accrue from its control could hardly be estimated, and the U.S. patent was good for seventeen years! Human immortality, the new Holy Grail for the medical community-and for the first time it was something for serious investigation, not a topic of pulp science-fiction stories.
"You think you can do it?" another congresswoman this one from San Francisco-asked. Women of all sorts found themselves drawn to this man. Money, power, good looks, and good manners made it inevitable.
John Brightling smiled broadly. "Ask me in five years. We know the gene. We need to learn how to turn it off. There's a whole lot of basic science in there we have to uncover, and along the way we hope to discover a lot of very useful things. It's like setting off with Magellan. We aren't sure what we're going to find, but we know it'll all be interesting." No one pointed out that Magellan hadn't made it home from that particular trip.
"And profitable?" a new senator from Wyoming asked.
"That's how our society works, isn't it? We pay people for doing useful work. Is this area useful enough?"
"If you bring it off, I suppose it is." This senator was himself a physician, a family practitioner who knew the basics but was well over his head on the deep-scientific side. The concept, the objective of Horizon Corporation, was well beyond breathtaking, but he would not bet against them. They'd done too well developing cancer drugs and synthetic antibiotics, and were the leading private company in the Human Genome Project, a global effort to decode the basics of human life. Himself a genius, John Brightling had found it easy to attract others like himself to his company. He had more charisma than a hundred politicians, and unlike the latter, the senator had to admit to himself, he really had something to back up the showmanship. It had once been called "the right stuff'! or pilots. With his movie-star looks, ready smile, superb listening ability, and dazzlingly analytical mind, Dr. John Brightling had the knack. He could make anyone near him! gel interesting-and the bastard could teach, could apply his lessons to everyone nearby. Simple ones for the unschooled and highly sophisticated ones for the specialists in his field, at the top of which he reigned supreme. Oh, lie had a few peers. Pat Reily at Harvard-Mass General. Aaron Bernstein at Johns Hopkins. Jacques Elise at Pasteur. Maybe Paul Ging at U.C. Berkeley. But that was it. What a fine clinician Brightling might have made, the senator-M.D. thought, but, no, he was too good to be wasted on people with the latest version of the flu.
About the only thing in which he'd failed was his marriage. Well, Carol Brightling was also pretty smart, but more political than scientific, and perhaps her ego, capacious as everyone in this city knew it to be, had quailed before the greater intellectual gifts of her husband. Only room in town for one of us, the doctor from Wyoming thought, with an inner smile. That happened often enough in real life, not just on old movies. And Brightling, John, seemed to be doing better in that respect than Brightling, Carol. At the former's elbow was a very pretty redhead drinking in his every word, while the latter had come alone, and would be leaving alone for her apartment in Georgetown. Well, the senator-M.D. thought, that's life.
Immortality. Damn, all the pronghorns he might take, the doctor from Cody thought on, heading over to his wife. Dinner was about to start. The chicken had finished the vulcanization process. The Valium helped. It wasn't actually Valium, Killgore knew. That drug had become something of a generic name for mild sedatives, and this one had been developed by SmithKline, with a different trade name, with the added benefit that it made a good mix with alcohol. For street people who were often as contentious and territorial as junkyard dogs, this group of ten was remarkably sedate. The large quantities of good booze helped. The high-end bourbons seemed the most popular libations, drunk from cheap glasses with ice, along with various mixers for those who didn't care to drink it neat. Most didn't, to Killgore's surprise.
The physicals had gone well. They were all healthy sick people, outwardly fairly vigorous, but inwardly all with physical problems ranging from diabetes to liver failure. One was definitely suffering from prostate cancer his PSA was off the top of the chart-but that wouldn't matter in this particular test, would it? Another was HIV+, but not yet symptomatic, and so that didn't matter either. He'd probably gotten it from drug use, but strangely, liquor seemed all he needed to keep himself regulated here. How interesting.
Killgore didn't have to be here, and it troubled his conscience to look at them so much, but they were his lab rats, and he was supposed to keep an eye on them, and so he did, behind the mirror, while he did his paperwork and listened to Bach on his portable CD player. Three were claimed to be-Vietnam veterans. So they'd killed their share of Asians-"gooks" was the word they'd used in the interview-before coming apart and ending up as street drunks. Well, homeless people was the current term society used for them, somewhat more dignified than bums, the term Killgore vaguely remembered his mother using. Not the best example of humanity he'd ever seen. Yet the Project had managed to change them quite a bit. All bathed regularly now and dressed in clean clothes and watched TV. Some even read books from time to time Killgore had thought that providing a library, while cheap, was an outrageously foolish waste of time and money. But always they drank, and the drinking relegated each of the ten to perhaps six hours of full consciousness per day. And the Valium calmed them further, limiting any alteranions that his security staff would have to break up. Two of them were always on duty in the next room over, also watching the group of ten. Microphones buried in the ceiling allowed them to listen in to the disjointed conversations. One of the group was something of an authority on baseball and talked about Mantle and Maris all the time to whoever would listen. Enough of them talked about sex that Killgore wondered if he should send the snatch team back out to get some female "homeless" subjects for the experiment-he would tell Barb Archer that. Utter all, they needed to know if gender had an effect on the experiment. She'd have to buy into that one, wouldn't she'? And there'd be none of the sisterly solidarity with them. There couldn't be, even from the feminazi who joined him in running this experiment. Her ideology was too pure for that. Killgore turned when there came a knock at the door.
From 10/20/1931 ( Mickey Mantle ) To 8/3/1998 ( RACKETEER INFLUENCED AND CORRUPT ORGANIZATIONS US Title 18 - Tom Clancy "Rainbow Six" ) is 24394 days
24394 = 12197 + 12197
From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official Deputy United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 3/26/1999 ( the "Melissa" computer virus was produced by Corbis Microsoft Bill Gates ) is 12197 days
From 10/23/1957 ( premiere US film "Time Limit" ) To 3/16/1991 ( date hijacked from me:my first successful major test of my ultraspace matter transportation device as Kerry Wayne Burgess the successful Ph.D. graduate Columbia South Carolina ) is 12197 days
From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official Deputy United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 3/26/1999 ( the "Melissa" computer virus was produced by Corbis Microsoft Bill Gates ) is 12197 days
From 10/23/1957 ( premiere US film "The Tin Star" ) To 3/16/1991 ( date hijacked from me:my first successful major test of my ultraspace matter transportation device as Kerry Wayne Burgess the successful Ph.D. graduate Columbia South Carolina ) is 12197 days
From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official Deputy United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 3/26/1999 ( the "Melissa" computer virus was produced by Corbis Microsoft Bill Gates ) is 12197 days
From 4/7/1926 ( premiere US film "Say It with Love" ) To 1/19/1993 ( in Asheville North Carolina as Deputy United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess I was seriously wounded by gunfire when I returned fatal gunfire to a fugitive from United States federal justice who was another criminal sent by Bill Gates-Nazi-Microsoft-George Bush the cowardly violent criminal in another attempt to kill me the known official Deputy United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) is 24394 days
24394 = 12197 + 12197
From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official Deputy United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 3/26/1999 ( the "Melissa" computer virus was produced by Corbis Microsoft Bill Gates ) is 12197 days
From 12/11/1946 ( UNICEF founded ) To 3/26/1999 ( the "Melissa" computer virus was produced by Corbis Microsoft Bill Gates ) is 19098 days
19098 = 9549 + 9549
From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official Deputy United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 12/25/1991 ( as United States Marine Corps chief warrant officer Kerry Wayne Burgess I was prisoner of war in Croatia ) is 9549 days
http://community.seattletimes.nwsource.com/archive/?date=19990329&slug=2952170
Monday, March 29, 1999
`Melissa' Crashes, Swamps E-Mails -- An Estimated 100,000 Computers Infected By Virus
The AP
PITTSBURGH - E-mail systems crashed or were swamped at hundreds of companies of all sizes by the "Melissa" computer virus, a computer expert estimated today.
Jeff Carpenter, a team leader for the Computer Emergency Response Team (CERT) at Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh, estimated that more than 100,000 computers and hundreds of companies had been infected by the virus.
CERT first learned of the virus Friday afternoon, and its members worked through the night to analyze it, Katherine Fithen, CERT manager, said. She said the full reach of the virus might become clear today when millions of people sit down at their computer terminals for the first time since Melissa emerged.
Fithen declined to say if any government's security was breached and wouldn't name anyone whose files had been damaged. The New York Times reported today that files at Charles Schwab, Lucent Technologies and Intel had been affected.
The Melissa virus spreads via infected e-mail and attacks computers loaded with Microsoft's widely used Word 97 or Word 2000 programs, according to CERT.
http://www.f-secure.com/v-descs/melissa.shtml
F-Secure Virus Descriptions : Melissa
NAME: Melissa
ALIAS: Simpsons, Kwyjibo, Kwejeebo, Mailissa
For more information on Melissa, see Global Melissa Information Center at http://www.F-Secure.com/melissa/
A virulent and widespread computer virus was found on Friday, March 26, 1999. This virus has spread all over the globe within just hours of the initial discovery, apparently spreading faster than any other virus before.
The virus, known as W97M/Melissa
http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/362983/Mickey-Mantle
Encyclopædia Britannica
Mickey Mantle
Mickey Mantle, in full Mickey Charles Mantle, byname the Mick (born Oct. 20, 1931, Spavinaw, Okla., U.S.—died Aug. 13, 1995
http://www.e-reading.org.ua/bookreader.php/71211/Clancy_-_Rainbow_Six.html
Tom Clancy
Rainbow Six [ RACKETEER INFLUENCED AND CORRUPT ORGANIZATIONS US Title 18 ]
Brightling looked at the electronic key and smiled. This was the last major hurdle for the Project. This would be the home of nearly all of his people. A similar but much smaller structure in Brazil had been finished two months earlier, but that one barely accommodated a hundred people. This one could house three thousand-somewhat crowded, but comfortably even so-for some months, and that was about right. After the first couple of months, he could sustain his medical research efforts here with his best people-most of them not briefed in on the Project, but worthy of life even so because that work was heading in some unexpectedly promising directions. So promising that he wondered how long he himself might live here. Fifty years? A hundred? A thousand, perhaps? Who could say now?
Olympus, he'd call it, Brightling decided on the spot. The home of the gods, for that was exactly what he expected it to be. From here they could watch the world, study it, enjoy it, appreciate it. He would use the call-sign OLYMPUS-1 on his portable radio. From here he'd be able to fly all over the world with picked companions, to observe and learn how the ecology was supposed to work. For twenty years or so, they'd be able to use communications satellites no telling how long they'd last, and after that they'd be stuck with long-wire radio systems. That was an inconvenience for the future, but launching his own replacement satellites was just too difficult in terms of manpower and resources, and besides, satellite launchers polluted like nothing else humankind had ever invented.
Brightling wondered how long his people would choose to live here. Some would scatter quickly, probably drive all over America, setting up their own enclaves, reporting back by satellite at first. Others would go to Africa-that seemed likely to be the most popular destination. Still others to Brazil and the rain forest study area. Perhaps some of the primitive tribes down there would be spared the Shiva exposure, and his people would study them as well and how Primitive Man lived in a pristine physical environment, living in full harmony with Nature. They'd study them as they were, a unique species worthy of protection and too backward to be a danger to the environment. Might some African tribes survive as well? His people didn't think so. The African countries allowed their primitives to interface too readily with city folk, and the cities would be the focal centers of death for every nation on earth-especially when Vaccine-A was distributed. Thousands of liters of it would be produced, flown all over the world, and then distributed, ostensibly to preserve life, but really to take it… slowly, of course.
Progress was going well. Back at his corporate headquarters the fictional documentation for -A was already fully formulated. It had been supposedly tested on over a thousand monkeys who were then exposed to Shiva, and only two of them had become symptomatic, and only one of those had died over the nineteen month trial that existed only on paper and computer memories. They hadn't yet approached the FDA for human trials, because that wasn't necessary-but when Shiva started appearing all over the world, Horizon Corporation would announce that it had been working quietly on hemorrhagic fever vaccines ever since the Iranian attack on America, and faced with a global emergency and a fully documented treatment modality, the FDA would have no choice but to approve human use, and so officially bless the Project's goal of global human extermination. Not so much the elimination, John Brightling thought more precisely, as the culling back of the most dangerous species on the planet, which would allow Nature to restore Herself, with just enough human stewards to watch and study and appreciate the process. In a thousand or so years, there might be a million or so humans, but that was a small number in the great scheme of things, and the people would be properly educated to understand and respect nature instead of destroying her. The goal of the Project wasn't to end the world. It was to build a new one, a new world in the shape that Nature Herself intended. On that he would put his own name for all eternity. John Brightling, the man who saved the planet.
Brightling looked at the key in his hand, then got back into his car. The driver took him to the main entrance, and there he used the key, surprised and miffed to see that the door was unlocked. Well, there were still people going in and out. He took the elevator to his office-apartment atop the main building. That door, he saw, was locked as it was supposed to be, and he opened it with a kind of one-person ceremony, and walked into the seat of Olympus's chief,o d. No, that wasn't right. Insofar as there was a god, it was Nature. From his office windows, he could see out over the plains of Kansas, the swaying young wheat… it was so beautiful. Almost enough to bring tears to his eyes. Nature. She could be cruel to individuals, but individuals didn't matter. Despite all the warnings, humankind hadn't learned that.
Well, learn it they would, the way Nature taught all Her lessons. The hard way.
Pat O'Connor made his daily report to the ASAC in the evening. Coatless, he slid into the chair opposite Ussery's desk with his folder in hand. It was already fairly thick." Bannister case," Chuck Ussery said. "Anything shaking loose yet, Pat?"
"Nothing," the supervisory special agent replied. 'We've interviewed fourteen friends in the Gary area. None of them had any idea what Mary was doing in New Fork. Only six of them even knew she was there, and she.ever discussed jobs or boyfriends, if any, with them. So, nothing at all has happened here."
"New York?" the ASAC asked next.
"Two agents on the case there, Tom Sullivan and Frank Chatham. They've established contact with a NYPD detective lieutenant named d'Allessandro. Forensics has been through her apartment-nothing. Latent prints are all hers, not even a maid. Neighbors in the building knew her by sight, but no real friendships established, and therefore no known associates. The New York idea is to print up some flyers and pass them out via the NYPD. The local detective is worried there might be a serial killer loose. He has another missing female, same age, roughly the same appearance and area of residence, fell off the world about the same time."
"Behavioral Sciences?" Ussery asked at once.
O'Connor nodded. "They've looked over the facts we have to date. They wonder if the e-mail was sent by the victim or maybe by a serial killer who wants to fuck over the family. Style differences on the message that Mr. Bannister brought in-well, we both saw that it appeared to have been written by a different person, or someone on drugs, but she was evidently not a drug user. And we can't trace the e-mail back anywhere. It went into an anonymous- remailer system. That sort of thing is designed to protect the originator of electronic mail, I guess so people can swap porno over the Net. I talked with Eddie Morales in Baltimore. He's the technical wizard in Innocent Images" - that was an ongoing FBI project to track down, arrest, and imprison those who swapped kiddie porn over their computers - "and Bert said they're playing with some technical fixes. They have a hacker on the payroll who thinks he can come up with a way to crack through the anonymity feature, but he's not there yet, and the local U.S. Attorney isn't sure it's legal anyway."
"Shit." Ussery thought of that legal opinion. Kiddie porn was one of the Bureau's pet hates, and Innocent Images had turned into a high-priority nationwide investigation, run from the Baltimore Field Division.
O'Connor nodded. "That's exactly what Bert said, Chuck."
"So, nothing happening yet?"
"Nothing worthwhile. We have a few more of Mary's friends to interview-five are set up for tomorrow, but if anything breaks loose, my bet's on New York. Somebody must have known her. Somebody must have dated her. But not here, Chuck. She left Gary and didn't look back."
Ussery frowned, but there was no fault to be found with O'Connor's investigative procedures, and there was a total of twelve agents working the Bannister case. Such cases ran and broke at their own speed. If James Bannister called, as he did every day, he'd just have to tell him that the Bureau was still working on it, then ask him for any additional friends he might have forgotten to list for the Gary team of agents.
http://www.e-reading.org.ua/bookreader.php/71211/Clancy_-_Rainbow_Six.html
Tom Clancy
Rainbow Six [ RACKETEER INFLUENCED AND CORRUPT ORGANIZATIONS US Title 18 ]
Black project, eh? he asked himself. He'd see about that. The cabinet meeting ended early. The President's congressional agenda was moving along nicely, which made things easy for everyone. They'd taken just two votes-actually, mere polls of the cabinet members, since the President had the only real vote, as he'd made clear a few times, Carol reminded herself. The meeting broke up, and people headed out of the building.
"Hi, George," Dr. Brightling greeted the Secretary of the Treasury.
"Hey, Carol, the trees hugging back yet?" he asked with a smile.
"Always," she laughed in reply to this ignorant plutocrat. "Catch the TV this morning?"
"What about?"
"The thing in Spain-'
"Oh, yeah, Worldpark. What about it?"
"Who were those masked men?"
"Carol, if you have to ask, then you're not cleared into it."
"I don't want their phone number, George," she replied, allowing him to hold open the door for her. "And I am cleared for just about everything, remember?"
SecTreas had to admit that this was true. The President's Science Advisor was cleared into all manner of classified programs, including weapons, nuclear and otherwise, and she oversaw the crown jewel secrets of communications security as a routine part of her duties. She really was entitled to know about this if she asked. He just wished she hadn't asked. Too many people knew about Rainbow as it was. He sighed.
"We set it up a few months ago. It's black, okay? Special operations group, multinational, works out of someplace in England, mainly Americans and Brits, but others, too. The idea came from an Agency guy the Boss likes and so far they seem to be batting a thousand, don't they?"
http://www.snpp.com/episodes/5F16
King of the Hill
Original airdate on FOX: 3-May-1998 [ RACKETEER INFLUENCED AND CORRUPT ORGANIZATIONS US Title 18 ]
% McBain, flying a UNICEF plane, is under attack by five "Comi-Nazi" fighter
% jets. One plane fires a missile at McBain's plane, and the back end
% explodes.
They won't stop me from delivering these UNICEF pennies! (he lifts up a pallet and throws it out the plane) Go, pennies! Help the puny children who need you!
-- McBain, pilot extraordinaire, "King of the Hill"
% While he is throwing the pennies, he rips his shirt, and we see his
% six-pack. Bart is lying on the rug watching this on the TV, with Homer
% sitting on the couch.
Bart: Wow! McBain is really buffed up! You could grate cheese on those abs!
Homer: Yeah, but can he do this? [Homer takes a drink from a beer can on his stomach, then crushes the can between the folds of fat.]
Bart: [shudders]
-- The abilities of Homer's stomach... "King of the Hill"
% Back to the TV. McBain jumps out of the plane, still on fire, towards the
% Comi-Nazis' planes. He lands on one and breaks its window. The pilot
% surrenders, but McBain breaks his neck anyway.
- posted by H.V.O.M - Kerry Wayne Burgess 9:53 PM Pacific Time USA Friday 01 June 2012
