dreamdancer

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Solidarity stay away from moving propellers - they bite blue skies from thai sky adventures good solid response-provoking keyboarding

http://www.alternet.org/blogs/peek/139934/conservatives_party_like_it%27s_1992%3A_%22the_government_is_giving_all_your_money_to_welfare_recipients%21%22/#more stay away from moving propellers - they bite blue skies from thai sky adventures good solid response-provoking keyboarding

this is the thread for you

Sir Charles Douglas Henson, Chief of London Watch, and the current Steering Committee Chairman, sat at his writing desk in his member’s study room, secreted in one of the oldest and deeply buried of their organisation’s safehouses. Some of his favourite furniture was here; a sturdy gun cabinet, his childhood pony saddle, a mahogany bookcase crammed with both the latest and most ancient Watch tomes. Atop the bookcase three large photographs of his grandparents, but not his parents or twin brothers. He put down the hourly report. Drawn from all the secretive arms of the Watch it confirmed that the Announcer had managed, with Houdini like ability, to break into every single account in the global banking network. Even the multi-firewalled US banks, using the most up to date encryption systems and secure networks had succumbed to its uncanny reach. Having matched wits with the preposterously, and supposedly, he thought sourly, self-named virus for so long, Henson could feel the strangeness of this, its latest move. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t fathom the purpose of the tax. It was a catalyst, yes, but for what purpose, what strange oddity did the Announcer plan on bringing into being? He considered that it might not have a purpose. Had the Announcer, as he knew Jonas Trent strongly suspected, quietly gone mad? The Americans, he recalled wryly, still claimed that Snowstorm had inflicted more damage to the Announcer than immediately apparent; could Snowstorm, sixteen years late, and after the black debacle of US bankruptcy, have crumbled it from the inside, with this deranged edict its last puff of life? As for Trent, he had thought of the dour scientist as a peripheral player, intelligent but at heart a civil careerist, happy with his current position and content to wait for retirement, now he was not so sure. He had just questioned him, he had been withholding something – he didn’t know what, but something. He had no choice though but to trust him for now; the investigative team he headed was too valuable, the information they gleaned from their constant computer analysis and harassment of the Announcer finally proving its worth. Now, if he used them correctly, the Opeople team would be a strategic force against Sima’s drugged up and spent shamans of the Future Trends Office. That would certainly liven things up for Trent up he considered, make him work for his money. Through the antiquated system of internal monitors he surveyed the Trading Room; entwined within a labyrinth of tunnels, the committee members gathered around its circular five hundred year old trading table, taking their final positions. Where was Kate? The Chief of Family Watch should be here by now, it was already several minutes past the called for time. He could give her no more. From a wooden boxed display seated on a wheeled trolley next to the desk he selected and pressed a service button. In response to the summoning bell the members began to file out of the Trading Room to the Boardroom. He pressed another clunky service button. This one setting in motion a pair of house staff to sweep up and transcribe to the Great Ledger the completed trading chits dropped to the floor. He too made his way to the Boardroom, the narrow corridors of the safe house musty and warm, the walls cloaked in dark paintings and faded tapestries. As he entered through his private door, the heavy oak carved slab creaking noisily on its dry hinges, the Chief of Security Watch passed a note to him, accompanied with two words, ‘Bad news.’ It was not often that Lady Blackwright felt the need to ready him for a blow. He quickly read that the Chief of Family Watch, Kate Saunders, whose support he critically needed, had been shot down by surface to air missile, along with the Watch helicopters escorting her. Eighteen dead presumed in all. The finger of suspicion immediately pointed to the unruly Forest tribes but, he thought harshly, looking at those in the room, an act just as likely to have been perpetrated by those much closer to home. He sat down at the long table. Sima Dudai, Chief of Treasury Watch, was the last to take her seat opposite him. She faced him disdainfully. It was hard to be sure, she kept her usual poker face, but he thought he caught a note of triumphalism in her. No doubt she has her hands in this, and much more, he concluded blackly. An easy majority of the Committee members would profit with her gone. In the present fraught circumstances frailties were being exposed and taken advantage of with Darwinian efficiency. That had always been the way of the Watch. stay away from moving propellers - they bite blue skies from thai sky adventures good solid response-provoking keyboarding

aaahh, another ayn rand freak

More ominously, on the subsequent pages, he read that the Winstone family had rejected the compulsory purchase order of their wiltshire manor; instead they intended to, ‘Hold onto, at any and all costs, the entirety of the family estate. Let the Announcer and its Watch lackeys attempt to come and take from us what is ours and they will leave with bloody noses.’ Above this quote a black and white photograph of the Baroness appeared, sitting uncomfortably astride a civil war cannon. She cradled in one arm a small bristly terrier, frozen in mid snarl by the camera lens; in the other she gripped a shining black machine pistol attached to a bulky loading chamber, that looked indeed, to Cedric’s untrained eye, to contain enough ammunition to dispense with any and all aforementioned lackeys. The article concluded with a final quote from the bloated, ruddy-faced Baron Winstone himself, photographed sitting precariously upon a slender hunting seat, armed with a long barrelled double bore shotgun, in the midst of the three-thousand-acre estate held by his ancestors for nigh on a thousand years, telling all and sundry, but particularly the Announcer to, ‘Bugger off.’ Cedric put the paper in the bin, watched out of the surround screen as the carriage ventured onto the M4, picking up speed to a steady fifty miles per hour as it did so. The suburbs had become noticeably more rural, he could see isolated groups of farm animals grazing on small meadows of patched together gardens. Exotic shaped turbines, all painted brightly, were elevated high into the air, twisting arrays of solar panels soaking up the sun at their feet. He leaned out of the soft sofa seat to tap the decorative dashboard at the front of the carriage. ‘Are you back yet?’ Still no reply from the Announcer. stay away from moving propellers - they bite blue skies from thai sky adventures good solid response-provoking keyboarding

http://www.alternet.org/blogs/peek/139889/the_secret_right-wing_strategy_on_health_care%E2%80%94exposed%21/#more stay away from moving propellers - they bite blue skies from thai sky adventures good solid response-provoking keyboarding

He scanned among the jumble of messages for something from Jenny, but found nothing. What he alighted upon instead, at the bottom of page two, was a personal edict from the Announcer titled, simply and intriguingly, ‘To Jedi Arthur’; which immediately sparked in him, as no doubt the damned thing intended, an intense, involuntary introspection to the summer of 2017, to the long weeks he had spent in his youth as a Jedi Warrior. He experienced a physical, freefall surge of adrenaline as his thoughts were dragged back to that time: He floated above a vast battle scarred warship. He watched as a spiralling, twisting flock of automated fighters rushed noiselessly past him, scorching the warship with colourful bursts of energy. He tracked the wreckage and the dismembered and burnt bodies spinning out of the ruptured areas. He waited patiently for the moment when, then cocooned within his stealth suit, and now within his memories, he and the tens of thousands of other players subscribed to the Jedi-Borg War game, who had endured weeks of pre-training, would finally initiate their personal assault upon the Borg King’s Death-Ship, its last refuge in all the galaxy. As the years had passed by he had thought he had forgotten all this, forgotten the frenetic time he had spent within the ship’s labyrinthine, booby tapped interior. But he had not. He pulled himself back to the present. He opened the edict: “Dear Jedi Arthur, I have arranged an appointment for you at your Bristol office this afternoon, 2.30, to discuss a banking proposal with the Nanja representative, Mr Andrew Suarez. A carriage will call at your convenience. Your friend and colleague, Jedi John, aka ‘The Universal Announcer’.” He had no idea who Andrew Suarez was, nor the Nanja. He reached the obvious conclusion that they were a cover for something the Announcer didn’t want openly discussed at the moment. He couldn’t know unless he attended the meeting. He read the signature again and recalled Jedi John as a large, burly warrior with an exotic armour that fluxed and glowed as he moved; his fighting style quick, brutish and extremely effective at short range. Now the Announcer claimed to be that player. Was it serious, or playing a mischievous game with him? He picked up his cup and drank his tea. If Jedi John – and they had all been anonymous to each other in real life, had indeed been a virtual construct then this was something the Announcer’s detractors had always claimed, that it had been around for much longer than it admitted to. He read the edict again then deleted it. Frustrated, he closed the connection, washed and dressed in one of his floral decorated suits that were this summer’s high style among the London traders. He ate a cereal breakfast with a second cup of tea, during which he decided that he would take up the Announcer’s edict, rationalising that if he stayed overnight in Bristol he would be able to watch the airship Patrick dock in the morning. If Jenny were amenable – and he didn’t see why not, she could join him, they would make a weekend break of it. ‘Ok, I’ll play along. But I want a decent carriage.’ The Announcer flashed a tick and a

i've already got a car

it appears his hobby is collecting tin hats

a national health service would be another good idea for the us

You could easily substitute "far left" or "Islamic terrorists" or "those 4 guys in Miami" or even "those two dudes in their mom's basement." That doesn't make it any more (or less--I do realize there are a few wackos out there really thinking that way) real, nor does it make it something that's likely to have any real effect. http://www.alternet.org/story/139872/there%27s_no_ammo_on_the_shelves_--_is_it_the_gun_nuts%27_fear_of_obama-lypse/?page=entire stay away from moving propellers - they bite blue skies from thai sky adventures good solid response-provoking keyboarding

good news from china now... http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/2009/may/06/china-seeks-climate-change-deal stay away from moving propellers - they bite blue skies from thai sky adventures good solid response-provoking keyboarding

what about this lobby? http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2009/may/06/us-israel-palestinians-middle-east stay away from moving propellers - they bite blue skies from thai sky adventures good solid response-provoking keyboarding

http://www.guardian.co.uk/politics/2009/may/06/michael-savage-sue-jacqui-smith stay away from moving propellers - they bite blue skies from thai sky adventures good solid response-provoking keyboarding

a flat rate inheritance tax is the fairest tax. stay away from moving propellers - they bite blue skies from thai sky adventures good solid response-provoking keyboarding

Busted: Fox News Caught Repeatedly Cropping, Manipulating Video. Hey, kids! Do you ever get tired of Fox News' crops? I don't mean the food they might be literally growing, in Glenn Beck's Doom Room, in preparation for Imminent Socialist Panic. I'm talking about the way they manipulate video to make it look like people are just straight up saying the opposite thing they actually said. Well, it's been bothering the media critics at Media Matters For America for some time, and they have, for a long time, been cataloging "examples of Fox News hosts and correspondents cropping comments by progressives and Democratic political figures in a manner that misrepresents them." A new mash-up video offers some side-by-side examples of what they're talking about: http://www.alternet.org/blogs/peek/139820/busted%3A_fox_news_caught_repeatedly_cropping%2C_manipulating_video/ stay away from moving propellers - they bite blue skies from thai sky adventures good solid response-provoking keyboarding

http://www.alternet.org/democracy/139825/the_far_right%27s_first_100_days%3A_getting_more_extreme_by_the_day/?page=entire stay away from moving propellers - they bite blue skies from thai sky adventures good solid response-provoking keyboarding

presumably a generation back it would have been impossible to discuss tobacco and cancer around the bonfire as the tobacco industry shills would have immediately claimed a 'political' bent rather than a science and health one. stay away from moving propellers - they bite blue skies from thai sky adventures good solid response-provoking keyboarding

presumably (for the mods info - this is theoretical only) i could start a science discussion at the bonfire along the lines of 'does anyone know how gravity works?' I am not sure you do. i'm sure i don't - that would be why i would ask the question. but nobody would say 'it's a political scam' same with global warming stay away from moving propellers - they bite blue skies from thai sky adventures good solid response-provoking keyboarding

are you adding to your collection? (do you want duct tape as well) stay away from moving propellers - they bite blue skies from thai sky adventures good solid response-provoking keyboarding

here: http://www.alternet.org/mediaculture/139040/fox_news_continues_to_hallucinate_about_a_socialist_fascist_menace_--_and_it%27s_causing_real_damage/?page=entire stay away from moving propellers - they bite blue skies from thai sky adventures good solid response-provoking keyboarding

you'll have to read my book to find my complete model

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2009/may/05/israel-gaza-united-nations stay away from moving propellers - they bite blue skies from thai sky adventures good solid response-provoking keyboarding

presumably (for the mods info - this is theoretical only) i could start a science discussion at the bonfire along the lines of 'does anyone know how gravity works?' stay away from moving propellers - they bite blue skies from thai sky adventures good solid response-provoking keyboarding