Posts Tagged ‘Occupy’

A Postcard from Nepal

“Victor!” began the drafted email message that had been sitting in cyberspace, rotting here, waiting for me like a crow carcass left by a loyal retriever. “My long lost friend, how the hell r ya?”

Could it possibly be? The picture could be of him… of anyone… Was this a trick – a lure placed before my hiding place to bring me out of my hole?

Greetings from the Himalaya: Cyrus Lee Hancock

Greetings from the Himalaya: Cyrus Lee Hancock

I had already wandered outside my safe confines to be here. There are many hotels in Central Florida and many of these many have courtesy internet lobbies for their guests. Such lobbies also work well for anonymous conspiracy bloggers looking to sign-in to mysterious email accounts and read the saved drafted messages left by fellow paranoids. Consider my Neverman ass planted in one such lobby. Before me on this day was an unexpected message from beyond that my eyes scanned frantically. At my back the sound of faux waterfall urged my bladder unnecessarily as the high-pitched spiel of the front desk girl bounced off the neo-post-modern retro-deco plastic blocks that made up the computer station. Could it be that what I was looking at was an actual message from Cyrus Lee Hancock?

“Enough of the fucking small talk, mi amigo. The time for my vindication is nye neigh nigh here. I may be hovering over a mud hole where thousands of strained shits have been taken and frozen at 20,000 feet, but I am not too drunk on altitude and the smell of vomited beer to miss the current events taking place back home. That bitch at the IRS is toast. Or as we say in Himalaya, ‘she’ll make a nice addition to a Yeti’s quilt’. Just like a couple of fucking South Africans I buried yesterday. I buried them, Yeti will fucking dig them up, sew them in, just like Sherpa Jerry says. And Sherpa Jerry don’t lie.

“You need to put the word out. Tell my story, hombre. It is time to negotiate; I am ready to come home. But I am not going to acquiesce until I get some guarantees.”

And so it was clear: Cyrus Lee Hancock had re-emerged onto the grid to take-on the vulnerable IRS that had pursued him to the ends and the heights of the Earth.

He listed his demands to reclaim citizenship of the United States:

  1. I want a full apology hand-written by whoever new is in charge at the IRS.
  2. I want the apology framed. A nice frame. No Target bullshit.
  3. I want the next 10 years off from being taxed by the Federales.
  4. I want my bro-in-law pardoned. Actually, I don’t give two shits, but the wife does.
  5. I want February 29th to just be a day that exists every year. I just got my first gray hair and I have only had seven birthdays – leap day blows.
  6. When kids study the constitution and they read about the 2nd Amendment, under ‘Regulated Militia’, I want there to be a picture of me, my guns, my dog and my Chinese stars.
  7. I want the IRS abolished, once and for all. I might be able to compromise on this one. Exile is okay too.

Cyrus Lee finally concluded, “OASIS and the Hancocks have long endured oppression of the Internet Revenue Service the IRS and if our Kenyan leader in the White House does not step down and allow the rule of the people, then it is time that we rise up like 1776 all over again and stop paying the tea taxes and start taking back our rights as Christian human beings. Or, I guess, just ‘Christians’. Isn’t ‘human’ implied? Unless they baptized Yeti. Fuck if I know. Sherpa Jerry would be pissed if he found out, he’s one of them Hindi Buddhists. Anyway, peace bro, CLH out!”

Prelude: the Emergence of Bucky Swoon

No story just exists in a tightly-packaged 26 month vacuum. How did we get here? What was the fallout? How did I, Vic Neverman, become entangled within the paranoid realm of the survivalist apocalyptist, Cyrus Lee Hancock, and the collection of his minions that were the group known as OASIS?

Circa 2011 of the Common Era: I had a fresh sunburn after relocating from Portland, Oregon, to the cheap plastic wilderness of Central Florida. Without the Dude Collective, my Oregonian commune of drunken philosophers, I quickly found myself lost within the twisted façade of civilization that is this tourism mecca. Parallel to the Arabic Mecca, the space rock that landed here that has fanatics circling like vultures is Space Mountain, or more specifically, Disney and the theme parked madness that followed.

A stranger in A Small World After All, I reached and struggled to find genuine intrigue and conflict in a place where it was all manufactured for consumer consumption. I developed a new alter-ego, Bucky Swoon, and infiltrated the Florida Secessionist Tea Party Movement. I spent a lot of time in North Florida. I wore a ball-cap I had to run over with my car several times to create its perfect shape. I drank cheap swill and allowed myself – err, my alter-ego – to be videoed riding a mechanic bull. I grinned and bore it as they made fun of manatees and manatee wake zones.

And then the Arab Spring arrived.

The Occupy Movement would follow.

Prepping for the Inevitable END: Neverman and Cyrus Lee

Prepping for the Inevitable END: Neverman and Cyrus Lee

Bucky Swoon volunteered to infiltrate the Occupiers as another alter-ego (name since forgotten, hard to keep track). I infiltrated. I returned to tell the Tea Party Secessionists about how ridiculous the Occupiers were and how they were led by a lovely dread-locked girl in a Guy Fawkes mask. Meanwhile, I told the lovely dread-locked girl in a Guy Fawkes mask about how I had infiltrated the Tea Party and how ridiculous they were. I was a double-agent. Or triple, since I was really just working for myself.

Bucky Swoon, who is praised for going undercover as an Occupy Orlando activist by growing a beard, wearing torn blue jeans and not washing his hair (ironically, the same way I infiltrated the Florida Secessionists), was presented with a flier to attend an “Anti-United Nations Paintball Rally sponsored by Cyrus Lee Hancock.”

The rest is history. Or at least some of the rest is in the next paragraph.

OASIS and the IRS

Cyrus Lee Hancock and I became fast friends. He saw through the mirage of Bucky Swoon and we came to grips about our antithetical co-existence. We were Spy Vs Spy, White Hat/Black Hat, Jekyll and Hyde… quasi-Canadian gun-enthusiast paranoid (him) and the neo-beatnik pacifist paranoid (me). I furthered my connection by bringing him whiskey on the rare Leap Day of 2012 and by being respectful of his wife, the beautiful enigma that is Layla Santana Crow. Well, I was respectful outside of the debates she and I endured in regards to the existence of dinosaurs. I was, clearly, in favor of the existence of dinosaurs. She, sweet Layla, was not. She, as always, was persuasive, though.

Cyrus Lee Hancock was the purveyor of Hancock Ranch, a survivalist compound where he held corporate retreats preparing suits for the end of the world, or, at least, another Democratic President. Cyrus Lee was also the founder and president of OASIS: the Oviedo Army of Survival, Intelligence and Security. It was a tight-knit suburban commando unit that met every Tuesday night to whatever surprise casserole dish the wives presented. Wine was drunk as preparations for The End were made.

The Future for Cyrus Lee Hancock and OASIS was clearly rooted in The End. Apocalyptoism was all the rage in 2012, especially with an election pending and the hysterical misinterpretation of the Mayan Calendar ending on December 21st. Donations and applications began to pour in from those who wished to join OASIS and have a front row seat to Armageddon from the safety of Hancock Ranch. Cyrus Lee Hancock was to reinvest those funds by increasing his arsenal and packing away enough foodstuffs to feed the loyal survivalist army. OASIS officially filed as a not-for-profit with the IRS as a means to reduce tax payout. Cyrus Lee even, at one point, insisted OASIS was a cult that followed the dinosaur-denying high priestess, Layla Santana Crow, and that the Freedom of Religion should exempt them from having to pay taxes.

Then the Maya Apocalypse occurred.

Post-apocalypse, everyone was pretty much left standing. Everyone pretty much had to go back to work. Everyone pretty much wanted their refund, or at least their share of Cyrus Lee’s arsenal and refried bean collection. Yet, Cyrus Lee Hancock was nowhere to be found. Hancock Ranch had been sold to some Vegan collective from Ohio. OASIS was no more, the Army disbanded with their post-apocalyptic hangover. The IRS arrived, but arrived too late.

The last I saw of Cyrus Lee and Layla was in an Olive Garden. We shared some cold calamari and a lot of salad. It would not be long before these mysterious two evaporated into the mystery dust of the cosmos.

Cyrus Lee Hancock buried his guns away in some rent-a-shed and sent his bride to some Costa Rican nunnery where she could forage with the orphans. His whereabouts were a mystery. A mystery until the downfall of the IRS finally brought him out of hiding and seeking his due justice. Now he wanted his vindication… and a framed apology.

Cyrus Lee Hancock and some Sherpa Dudes in the Himalaya

Cyrus Lee Hancock and Sherpa Jerry and Sherpa She-Bop in the Himalaya


Mother do you think they’ll drop the bomb?

-Pink Floyd

The future is uncertain but the end is always near.

-The Doors

Welcome to the future. Welcome to 2013. I am Vic Neverman and I am your guide to what will be this next year, at least for the length of this blog post. Yes, the future is running a little late, but what’s prognostication without a little procrastination?

I consider myself neither optimist nor pessimist in these prognostic pursuits, merely the pragmatic gambler, placing my wager only after peering perversely into my telescopic lens at the voluptuous Lady Fortune as she bathes in what she assumes is absolute privacy. Yes, as King David upon the roof, I peek at the forbidden flesh that is the future and watch the torrent of water beating down upon the sudsy curvatures of her naked form. Enlightened with such hidden knowledge, I return at once to Plato’s cave to relieve you, dear reader, of the dark abyss of ignorance and deliver you, presently, to what is and what should be… 2013.

1 – Russian Premier Vladimir Putin will resign or be overthrown.

First dart toss and I am going straight for the jugular. Vlad “the paler impaler” Putin is so righteously paranoid, he makes your narrator look like Mary-fucking-Poppins. For good reason – Vlad’s greatest allies are those who fear him most. Russia is a Mafia State, as “corrupt as a prostituted nun selling a hotdog to a lipless pig.” Vlad plans a purge on corruption and this will only bring about his downfall.

To read more on this prediction, see the below blog post…

The Fall of Vladimir Putin

2 – Gun legislation dance will prompt highest gun sales ever

Conspiracy theory has gone platinum of late with hot-headed talk show guests screaming about Obama and the hidden world government taking away our guns. The truth is that these paranoid theorists are on the payroll of the NRA and so is Obama. Every time Obama mentions gun control, what happens? Every gun and round of ammunition between you and St Lou is gobbled up as if zombies are gathering in the parking lot. Not much is made in the USA anymore, but guns and tanks and missiles and robo-pterodactyl drones still are. War is no cottage industry, it is the American industry. All those trillions put into our oversea campaigns – a lot of that money goes into the pockets of bomb builders, contractors and our own troops. The domestic market for weapons is fast expanding. The NRA doesn’t represent gun owners… it represents the gun manufacturers. Politicians do not represent their constituents… they represent special interests.

There may eventually be legislation proposed requiring background checks, proof of ID, sexual persuasion, etc. all while gun lobbyists flaunt the 2nd Amendment like a fifty dollar bill in a whorehouse to keep assault weapons easily obtainable, but the entire drama is little more than grand theater.

3 – Big Pharma will produce a zombie pill

The FDA will approve testing of a new super-drug that lowers blood pressure by diverting blood to the groin, curing both heart and erectile malfunction issues in men simultaneously. This super-drug will become the cause of the world’s first zombie outbreak thanks to the use of blow-fish toxins and panther bits in the recipe. Fortunately, the zombieism is contained to just lab rats and gerbils and the one lab scientist who got creative with some PVC pipe after reading a Richard Gere autobiography. Unfortunately, the damn Canadians got their hands on the chemical makeup and will produce a generic version of the pill by 2014.

4 – Climate Change will bring best justification for owning assault weapons

The 2nd Amendment allows us to bear arms as a militia force to standup to a potentially oppressive government. The unforeseen benefit is that such ownership allows us to also scare off our neighbors during climactic climate events. 2013 will see more unpredictable weather – thunder without rain, snow when you expected bikinis and Al Roker thinner than what is humanly decent. Heat-waves will encourage droughts and by extension lower agricultural output, bringing higher food prices. Heat-waves will bring brownouts as more air-conditioners are turned to uber-high. Food scarcity and power outages will bring social unrest, civil chaos, conduct unbecoming, buggery, larceny, cuckoldry, chronic self-abuse and general disorder. Maybe having that assault weapon isn’t such a bad idea after all.

Thunder only happens when it’s raining

– Fleetwood Mac’s words will prove untrue in 2013

5 – Occupy Movement Performs a Reunion Tour

After taking 2012 off, the well-rested Occupy Movement regains steam in 2013. I, Vic Neverman, personally met with “the Freesome Threesome of Orange Avenue” in Downtown Orlando. Their spokesperson spoke as illegibly as the words tattooed across his forehead (the words were written in inky Cursive, which I believe is a dead language like Pig Latin and is thus indecipherable to anyone other than the casual Egyptologist passerby with a slide-ruler and a sundial), yet the message was audible enough: 2013 will be “Occupied like its 2011” just without all of the Jersey Shore paraphernalia of that bygone age. I was accompanied by “the Butcher of Longwood” who boldly sipped from the cursive tattooed-foreheaded spokesperson’s mustachioed-flask of cinnamon-tainted spirit as we made casual comments about the Occupy Orlando mascot “D’Rupy Dawg” as he lay entirely fucked-up on hashish and passed-out in a guitar case. When that sleeping dog wakes it is on!

D'Rupy Dawg, the hobo mascot of the Occupy Movement as found on the streets of Orlando on 1.12.13

D’Rupy Dawg, the hobo mascot of the Occupy Movement as found on the streets of Orlando on 1.12.13

6 – The term “Lesbianian” will enter the American vernacular

“Lesbianian” will describe anything resembling or bearing the characteristics of or employing the essence of being a lesbian. For example, to decorate your office with posters of Xena:Warrior Princess would be lesbianian. Understandable, sure, but lesbianian. Similarly, “Asianian” will be used to describe something that is not Asian, but very closely resembling.

7 – Alternative Religions will be on the upswing

Living in the post-Maya Apocalypse world is a life without meaning. All of the economic chaos, violence, political instability was easily explained with a point at the looming Apocalyptic date of 12/21/2012, but now the Apocalypse has come and went. All the answers we hoped to find in the galactic alignment promised to us by the Maya Astrologers are empty. The people will turn elsewhere for their Truth.

Cults will be on the rise. Scientology, hurt by the sluggish economy, will start offering membership 2-for-1 deals. Locally, here in Florida, the prophetess Layla Santana Crow will build a following with her message that is centered on the disbelief of dinosaurs. Sales of Tim Tebow jerseys will continue to be a high despite no longer having any team’s colors on them.

8 – On a related note, a Tim Tebow update

Number15, the great forsaken one of the NFL, will wander the wilderness of the offseason where he will meet a wizened old sage known as Jim “Crash” Jensen. Tim Tebow will learn that if you can’t play quarterback – play everything else. He will then sign with the Miami Dolphins to play H-Back.

Jim "Crash" Jensen played backup QB, RB, TE, LB, WR, special teams and occasionally was the Dolphin mascot

Jim “Crash” Jensen played backup QB, RB, TE, LB, WR, special teams and occasionally was the Dolphin mascot

Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.

― Søren Kierkegaard

Friends, Paranoids, Countrymen, lend me your ear… I come to bury 2012, not to praise it. I speak to you now not to relish this year’s numerous personal victories or weep over dearly departed milk, spilt from the cereal bowl of the disenchanted dreamer. No! I am here, at the twilight of this year, for one purpose only – to review my 2012 predictions. I do so ascending from the embers of Hades as my own Devil’s Advocate with a callous and critical forked tongue. As a trend-analyzing futurist, I am held accountable for my predictions; I am not some haphazard weather man pointing the direction of the wind like an iron rooster atop your barn. You, dear reader, deserve to have my words tested over the hot coals of hindsight. Well, the grades are in… And the truth is: I fucking nailed it!

Here it is, my 2012 predictions regurgitated from my 12/18/2011 blog post. Also included, on a scale of 0-10 is how hard I nailed this particular prophecy.

1 – “The Mayan Calendar date that is approximately 12/21/2012 …will not bring the end of the world.”

On an accuracy scale of 0-10, I scored a perfect 10. The Maya date of significance came and went. The world continues to turn without so much as a wobble. The Apocalypto aftermath, however, did draw an end to my social calendar. As you, fellow traveler, likely already know I became something of a celebrity in the latter half of this year thanks to a local magazine’s article on adventure racing featuring non-other than Vic Neverman. My social status brought some fame amongst Central Florida’s doomsday prep crowd and I spent many nights at speaking engagements, feasting on free meals prepared by my host/hostess. At a 12/22/2012 post-apocalypse party, my Gratis status soon became Non Grata due to my possessing an anti-social behavior more befitting a baboon than a privileged member of civilization. I have now returned to being shunned by society. Which is fine, I am more comfortable here anyhow.

2 – “…the spiced fowl appendages we have all been eating at Buffalo Wild Wings come from the genetic freak of a six-winged chicken engineered by those Frankensteinian mad scientists at Mansanto, evil motherfuckers they are.”

Score of 9. “Monsanto is the devil”  My agricultural industry insider, M. Von Love told me. Our ability to feed the world has grown leaps and bounds thanks to innovation in the science of managing fields and the technology of machines. Monsanto’s monopoly on seeds and proliferation of pesticide, however, is crippling all gains by slowly killing the world’s populace. Monsanto is not out to cure hunger, It is out to control the world’s food supply. This prediction would have been a perfect score, but the Washington Post never went public with their exposé.

3 – “Occupy the Democratic National Convention’ will be infiltrated by agent provocateurs”

Score of 10. Sometimes predictions can be so powerful, they undermine the very event they attempt to forecast. In this case, instead of risk being ripped apart by agents provocateur, the Occupy Movement simply agreed to become bored with it all and disintegrate. The thing about revolution is that it is a bitch.

4 – “2011 was the year of the drone… 2012 will be the year of the spy blimp.”

Score of 10. Drones were still prevalent in 2012, sure. And stealth helicopters stole headlines after the bin Laden raid in Pakistan, but who can deny the sudden omnipresence of blimps watching us all from above? To quote an anonymous bathroom stall poet, “Privacy is dead. And death is the only chance for quality alone time.”

5 – “Vlad Putin will win the Presidency of Russia”

Score of 10. I wish I were wrong on this one. If I had been wrong, Russia wouldn’t have cock-blocked us in Syria and Pussy Riot would still have their freedom and obscurity.

6 – “By 2020, 80% of our fastfood nutrition will be hidden inside of an egg roll.”

Score of 10. Not only are egg rolls, and their tasteless spring cousins, now a fixture in Americana cuisine, the Chinese have secured all the rare mineral rights in Africa and Australia, ensuring only they and Monsanto will be the global super powers in 2050.

7 – “Illegal phone applications will utilize facial recognition software”

Score of 10. Again, sometimes predictions can have such an impact on the future as to dismantle it. My paranoid ravings about cell phone applications have started petitions against social networking sites to ensure this new technology will not be released onto the public. By my being so goddamned accurate, I prevented this horrid future from actually occurring. Yet.

8 – Robots will take the place of TSA agents, romantic companions, line cooks and pets.

Score of 10. While I haven’t necessarily had my cavities explored by a metallic TSA agent or robo-gyrl, it is really just a question of expense. Think about it – 20 years ago, we could have all had mobile phones and home computers, but it was cost prohibitive. In another 3 or 4 years of cost-reducing innovation, most of my carnal delights will likely be provided by the delicate skill of my pocket automaton, Lucy.

9 – “WikiLeaks will reveal President Eisenhower met with the Emperor of the Greys (those almond-eyed, naked, grey-skinned aliens) and made a peace treaty stipulating an allowance for alien harvesting and testing of human subjects and livestock.”

Score of 9. I do not necessarily hear anyone claiming this to not be true. The deduction of the one point, like the Buffalo Wild Wing prediction, is simply due to the failure of the 4th Estate to reveal this truth.

10 – “It will be learned the Vic Neverman blog was nothing more than a Stuxnet cyber-worm burrowing into your computer and creating random gibberish upon your screen in order to keep you from creating your own nuclear weapon arsenal.”

Score of 10. Of course…

For a final tally of 98! That’s an A+ in my book. Good job, Vic, and a Happy New Year to All!


Interesting 2010 predictions made by Vic Neverman for 2011

-The NeverBrother-in-Law will attempt to frame Vic. This actually did happen in 2012.

-Osama bin Laden will be found in New Jersey. In 2012, he was actually found in Pakistan.

-China will use its weather devices to send more hurricanes to make landfall in unexpected American locations. This didn’t occur in 2011, because as I said at the time, the United States countered with our own weather manipulation technology. In 2012, however, Super Storm Sandy hit New York City just prior to the Presidential Election.

Breaking News: Occupy Oregon to Intensify at State Legislature

This just in – Trusted Neververse insider, Phineas Crux, has gotten details on the Oregon State Legislature stocking up on state police for today’s opening of congress in Salem. The twin demonstration mobs, Occupy Portland and Occupy Salem, will be picketing outside of the state congressional building today and the state police believe there will be several forays of Occupiers entering into the building to disturb “floor meetings, committee meetings, or general Capitol business.” Oregon lawmakers are told to hit the “panic button” as soon as a disruption occurs and that it is better to panic too soon than too late.

Fear not, Phineas Crux is keeping his rape whistle close just in case “any of the fuzz-balls gets too close.”

They say history is cyclical. Certainly music, film, and television sitcoms seem to be the second-hand cigarette of yesteryear’s stamped-out tobacco, so why wouldn’t history be similarly recycled? If ‘they’ be right about the cyclicality, then all one must do in order to predict the future sequence of events is be able to discern the path with which the coincidental foci of the ellipse travels. Ha! To quote Euclids, ‘easier said than done, you little sycophantic Pythagoran hustler’. I daren’t even try to unweave the riddled cycle… or… dare I?

Alas, I, Vic Neverman, futurist to the stars, am coming forward to provide you, dear reader, my forecast for 2012. Using my knowledge of passed past, my insight into the present and my irritable bowel syndrome for the future, I have come up with a set of predictions I feel Edgar Cayce could only dream about*!

*An inside joke amongst us futurists, Drowsy-Ed was also known as ‘the sleeping prophet’

So, without any more build-up outside the thudding drumroll of my fingertips upon the keyboard, I present my predictions:

1 – The Mayan Calendar date that is approximately 12/21/2012 signifies a new age, but it will not bring the end of the world. Of course, any sensical conspiracy theorist knows that promoting gold gets you endorsements from the hawkers and that substantiating doomsday rumors increases your readership, but that does not mean these activities are morally justified? The Mayans do not believe the end of the world is coming, so why should Vic? Better yet, why should you?

2 – An expose piece by the Washington Post will reveal that the spiced fowl appendages we have all been eating at Buffalo Wild Wings come from the genetic freak of a six-winged chicken engineered by those Frankensteinian mad scientists at Mansanto, evil motherfuckers they are.

3 – ‘Occupy the Democratic National Convention’ will be infiltrated by agent provocateurs who will turn to violence, which will incite some random circumstantial police brutality. The resulting outrage will taint Obama’s chances of re-election.

4 – 2011 was the year of the drone as our remote control assassins and spies were busy in East Africa, North Africa, Afghanistan, Pakistan, and gods know where else. Even back inside the domestic borders, Miami and Houston police have contracted for ‘flying lawn mowers’ to patrol overhead. 2012 will be different, though. 2012 will be the year… of the spy blimp.

5 – Vlad Putin will win the Presidency of Russia after a brief hiatus as Prime Minister. Of course, the only way this victory will come is through bribery, extortion, and beatings. Many beatings. All courtesy of the KGB school of electioneering.

6 – I remember in the past when futurists told me I would be eating more tacos than hamburgers and using more hot sauce than ketchup. Those predictions seemed silly at the time. Lo and behold, I just had Korean BBQ Tacos out of a mobile restaurant in a gas station parking lot. So what is next in gastro-predictions? By 2020, 80% of our fastfood nutrition will be hidden inside of an egg roll. Forget children, egg rolls are our future. In 2012, the stock price for Hot Pockets will sky-rocket.

7 – Illegal phone applications will utilize facial recognition software, allowing its piratical users to identify strangers on a plane, shoppers in line, patrons at a bar, all by taking a quick snapshot via camera phone. Do not be surprised when you receive a facebook message in 2012 from a complete stranger, “hey, saw you on the opposite sidewalk and couldn’t get your attention, but wanted to say ‘hi’. So HI there… :)”

8 – Robo-Talk!!! Vic Neverman loves to think where robotics will be in the next year. I especially can’t wait until it is socially acceptable to tell the NeverMum I have been married all along to a Japanese automaton who is programmed to cook me crepes and perform other ‘jobs’ around the house. Until then, I foresee:
8.a) robo-hands will be used by TSA for frisking passengers at the airport
8.b) online dating sites will hopefully begin including a new group for robotic companions, which will also be available for purchase.
8.c) pizza and burritos will still require the delicacy of the animated hand, but robots will soon be flipping our burgers and frying our potato sticks.
8.d) living pets will become less relevant as furry robots will be able to reproduce their animalistic charm without the odorous byproduct.

9 – WikiLeaks will reveal President Eisenhower met with the Emperor of the Greys (those almond-eyed, naked, grey-skinned aliens) and made a peace treaty stipulating an allowance for alien harvesting and testing of human subjects and livestock. Considering Ike’s other options, we will call this the greatest presidential bargain since Seward’s Folly.

10 – It will be learned the Vic Neverman blog was nothing more than a Stuxnet cyber-worm burrowing into your computer and creating random gibberish upon your screen in order to keep you from creating your own nuclear weapon arsenal.

Sometimes the most trusted ally is a proven antagonist. It is more important to know a man’s intentions than to agree with them. A familiar rival is often more forthcoming than a fellowship of strangers. Look at Jack Kennedy and Nikita Kruschev, these rivals chose a diplomatic stalemate over the proposals of their hawkish generals who would sooner see mass extinction of the species. Kennedy and Kruschev avoided all-out war by finding the lowest common denominator: survival. In similar fashion, I, Vic Neverman, broke bread (or more literally cracked open beers) with the ever-devious, Phineas Crux. Over a compromise of mutual survival, we two enemies had joined a common cause.

And now the bastard has gone missing.

Despite our longtime opposition, I had employed Phineas Crux into my ever-expanding Neverman Network Of Spies (NNOS). As a political elitist in the Oregonian state capital, an expert on Trans-Pacific foreign policy, and an erstwhile spelunker in the Portland Underground, Phineas Crux is a unique resource to report back on West Coastal stirrings. Most recently, Phineas has been keeping an eye on the Occupy movement in both Portland and Salem, Oregon. He’s made comparisons of the Occupy organizational structure to that of the anti-Franco communists of the Spanish Civil War. He’s mentioned that the homeless seem to have a large role in the local movement, but since the hipsters of Little Beirut (as Portland was called by the 1st Bush Administration) often blur the lines between fashion and destitution, it is not easy to separate the true vagrants from the trustifarians. In perhaps his most startling revelation, Phineas Crux’s espionage uncovered recent research Occupation participators have conducted to learn more about prior secessionist movements in California, Oregon and Washington.

And that is the last we’ve heard of our wayward antagonist.

Has Phineas gone so deep underground he cannot sneak off to a nearby internet cafe to send a short message without being overseen by oppressive forces, be they of the fascist police state or the anarchist pitchforked public? Or has Phineas Crux been more violently silenced – muzzled in some Shanghai Tunnel or buried beneath the snows of Mt Hood? Or could this be the work of a jilted former lover, a scorned ex-flame who wishes to see Phineas finished off (just less pleasantly than times past)? Certainly, there is one such anti-Crux femme fatale that comes to mind… An obvious suspect, she… She who called me, Vic Neverman, in an endless rant of a letter “naive” and “idiotic” (the gall!) for my trusting Phineas Crux. In her defense, however, one must always be cautious when dealing with Phineas. I, Vic Neverman, could trust Phineas Crux precisely because I knew he was untrustworthy. As I mentioned previously, it is better to have a man whose intentions are clear than to have one whose agenda is clouded by their sycophantic agreeableness. Crux is definitely the former.

Portlandian Secret Society "The Dude Collective". Phineas Crux is on the far left, Vic Neverman on the far right.

I first came to know this character, Phineas Crux, in Portland when I and the warior-poet, Ginger Hustle (whose been featured in previous Occupy blogs), entered into the surreal realm of a Jim Morrison shrine off the eastern banks of the Willamette River. Within this Temple of Doors, the warrior-poet and I became acquainted with Phineas Crux and we would later be initiated into a cultic brotherhood of sorts, which I have referred to before as the Dude Collective. Despite being fellow philosopher-monks in the Collective, rivalry and sabotage ensued between Crux and Neverman. When my play, “Operation Smoking Dragon” premiered in Lincoln City, who was it streaking through the audience with just a tube sock covering his nether-parts? Phineas Crux. And then in the aftermath of a great blizzard, “Sno-pacalypse 2008” as the local news called it, lines were clearly drawn for a final battle between Phineas with his merry men and Ginger Hustle and I, Vic Neverman, on the opposite side. Perhaps the only thing keeping us from mutual annihilation was the holiday spirit contained in the seasonal craft beers we had been gulping down… poisonous remedy it could be.

The zenith of the antagonism between Neverman and Crux was reached when each of us, under different pretenses, found ourselves in Southeast Asia suspecting the Other as a saboteur. The dusty jungles of non-monsoonal Vietnam and Cambodia were the devil’s playground for our dance of intrigue. One positive aspect of traveling in corrupt states is the ease with which I bribed the Saigon police with the help of my guide Now True Van Wasted (“now true” being a brutal anglicization of her name Ngoc Truc). I used these bribes in an effort to recapture my stolen passport and visa (courtesy, one would suspect, of the devious Phineas Crux) and to further hinder the plans of he, my nemesis.

Showdown in Siem Reap. From left to right, Mr and Mrs VanWasted, Phineas Crux, Vic Neverman, and hovering over the scene, Phineas' 7 foot goon, Q-Ball

It wouldn’t be until both Crux and Neverman found themselves in Cambodia before we would actually meet face-to-face for the first time since Portland a month earlier when each saw the Other off, like two racers revving engines at the starting line. It was in the crossroads of the “White Market” in Siem Reap, among the pedicure-by-goldfish stalls and the sickeningly capitalistic vendors of land mine souvenirs, that Neverman and Crux met with our teams in tow. Phineas suspected me of wrong-doings I was absolutely innocent of. I, in turn, accused him of nearly blinding me by poisoning my contact solution in Ho Chi Minh City (I was sporting an eye-patch for a while there) and then later hiring a local goon to mug me of my traveling papers (if it weren’t for an ever-present and surprisingly helpful Mossad agent, I would still be hitchhiking my way out of Indochina). Our mirrored sneers became snickers and our ricocheted paranoia brought a cynical levity. With so much in common, our friendship was quickly renewed.

We would both return to Oregon for the last months of the Dude Collective before the brotherhood would geographically fracture, separating members by continents and oceans. It was just as well, going on double-dates with your arch-nemesis and a pair of unsuspecting girlfriends was getting awkward. By the end of the year, Crux left Portland for the state capital and Neverman was in Florida.

But through the web – specifically the online forum Zoey & the Zeitgeist – the misaligned alliance remained… until now.

Now, Crux is gone…

The Occupy Everything Movement is at a critical juncture. With violence breaking out between protestors and police on the West Coast and the coming Winter in the Northeast, it is time for a change in direction. This anti-capitalism effort has plateaued and it appears Obama, with the assistance of a cooperative media, are making efforts to move public awareness away from the Occupy Movement. There are three recent examples of how the White House and mass media has stemmed the flow of energy into the movement through: distraction (potentially), ignoring historical milestones that may add flame to the fire, and an empty offering from the Powers-that-Be as far as transparency of government.

Ginger Hustle, master of using leverage in his persuasive arguments

First, a report from Ginger Hustle, one of many within the Neverman Network of spies. Below is GH’s post from the “left coast” which includes an intriguing hypothetical about how a new scandal’s suspicious timing has diverted public attention away from the Occupy Movement:

All is well up here on the left coast. I feel like people are
starting to shake off the lethargy of our spiritual hibernation. The
constant bombardment of images of riots all of the Multiverse has
awoken the hunger in the loins of people everywhere. I must admit I’m
always fascinated when people start gathering in pursuit of a single
goal. I find that although it’s misguided and misdirected it can often
be the catalyst for something amazing. I think the biggest speed bump
in our generations lives has been entertainment. As long ago in the
ages of the Holy Roman empire, The Colieseum was meant to entertain
and therefore keep the dociled peoples off the necks of the silent 1%.
Like a good Illusionist misdirection at the precise moment can be
very powerful. In my slightly Belzered brain I must wonder if the Joe
PAterno thing was merely a trifle the spooks held for a time such as
this… The Occupy Wall Street was really starting to gain some
traction. Popping up in more than 200 cities across the Great U S of
A, and like a great poker player with an Ace up it’s sleeve they drop
this case on the public in an effort to side track and therefore table
something that has the potential to truly awaken the “Bear.” The
“Bear” of course being more than any beard totting fuzzy Portlander,
but actually symbolizing the quiet slumbering masses…

A well written post by Ginger Hustle, an old ally of Neverman from my secret society days within the Oregonian Dude Collective. I especially appreciated GH’s reference to the conspiracy and Law & Order icon, Richard Belzer. Ginger Hustle is right, the Sandusky/Paterno scandal is certainly one that seemingly sat shelved for a long period of time. How is it that it is just now unraveling before us? Is this suspicious timing just a means of distracting the public away from the Occupy cause?

Rites of Spring: Pagan Ritualistic Dance of the Dude Collective featuring Phineas Crux, Vic Neverman, Ginger Hustle and Wara

A curious play by the media was Tuesday’s lack of coverage of the anniversary of JFK’s assassination. If there is any one date that should send anti-goverment suspicion racing through the veins of the American Public, it would be 11/22. Is it any coincidence that this 48 year milestone came and went without so much as a mentioning of Zapruder, Lee Harvey, Jack Ruby and the vigilant Garrison? 11/22/1963 is overwhelmingly thought to be a day of dark conspiracy in the mind of the collective public. Was the anniversary largely ignored in order to not add additional kindle to the fiery public dissatisfaction?

Lastly, the White House recently responded to the call for transparency in regards to UFOs. Regardless of whether you, dear reader, believe in the existence of extra-terrestrials zipping around our ears, there should be no doubt in the existence of aircraft that is unknown to the public and thus “unidentified” when observed. Why these files haven’t been previously released by the government would lead one to believe in a cover-up. At last, Obama’s Administration issued an offical letter to address the UFO question. In summation, Team Obama said there is no conclusive evidence to believe in the existence of alien life. Hardly the offering that was expected. This meager attempt at transparency came off as hollow, but an attempt nevertheless of the government to say, “see here… we aren’t hiding anything under the rug” while never opening up the closet door to display the secrets that lay behind.

The Occupy Movement is losing steam – necessary heat with the coming of winter. Is it possible the government purposely kicked the legs out of the movement by bringing us a distracting scandal, ignoring a vitally important milestone (a cynical holiday recognized by all conspiracy nuts, like Vic), and by providing an empty offering of transparency?

Saturday Morning, 11/5/11

The foliage at ‘Freedom Park’ is sparse, but bearing enough bushiness to allow me, Vic Neverman, to lurk nearly undetected by the collective mass of protestor. Should I be discovered and interrogated, my cover story was that of wayward coleopterist, searching for the elusive Cicindela sexgutta (a Latin term for the six-spotted tiger beetle). No surprise, the majority of my preparation for this cover was practice saying ‘Cicindela sexgutta‘. The true target of my observations, though, was the Occupation movement that had gathered in this grassy corner of Orlando to protest corporate greed.

Gaustmeister, the co-author of my work-in-process 6,000 page tome on the Fourth Crusade, mentioned (49% mockingly/51% deathly serious) the French Revolution’s Reign of Terror grew out of a similar casual dissatisfaction as what is evidenced by Occupy Wall Street and its spawned geographical varieties. It is with this historical perspective I carried a worst case scenario on this venture. Upon arrival, my attention – and my imagination – was immediately swept up by one of the charismatic leaders of the movement. Fear not: Vic was not swayed emotionally or politically to join the ranks, but rather I became fawningly spellbound by the harmonic voice of this dreadlocked woman behind the Guy Fawkes mask as she yelled out for a ‘Mic Check’. No, I wasn’t about to take up her cause, but I did allow myself to be enchanted by the beauty of her delivered fiery diatribe about the movement not being a fight between good and evil, but rather a fight for fair representation in government. Meanwhile, a counter-protestor held a sign up to inform the crowd that the Tea Party was going to “kick your ass”. Bucky Swoon would have been proud…

One of the next speakers, who followed this Lady Fawkes, had perhaps the worst idea I have ever heard at a political rally. This fantastic fool rambled about how the ‘natives’ owned land before ‘Manifest Destiny’ (which is untrue, ownership of property wasn’t even a concept of Native Americans) and how this land was now under the control of the Mexican drug cartels. This fantastic fool called out the underrepresented ‘natives’ to stand up, leave their reservation and their bingo parlors and take back their land from the cartels. It is idiocy like this, from someone who seemed to be associated with the Occupy Orlando leadership, that is going to continue to undermine the approachability of this cause for the greater public. Which is exactly how I knew she was a plant – an agent provocateur assigned to discredit the movement. Even her Guy Fawkes mustache seemed crooked.

Despite my agitation over the fool and my desire to speak to Lady Fawkes – if only to say the words “Cicindela sexgutta” – I had to remain the impartial observer. It became time for the march to downtown Orlando to begin. I removed myself to a tavern for refreshment and to consult my notes.

Occupy Everything Conspiracies

The first call to protest and the occupation of Wall Street can be traced back to the Canadian anti-materialism magazine, AdBusters. This magazine is supported, in part, by the Tides Foundation, which is donated to by the liberal billionaire George Soros, who happens to admit his sympathy to the protestors. See the article below for the allegation Soros is funding OWS.

The fact that a liberal billionaire might have some connection to the Occupation Movement, in itself, means nothing. The fact that it is George Soros means everything – at least to the radical right’s conspiracy theorists. George Soros is the poster boy for conservative fear-mongers, like Glenn Beck who has led the recent charge in anti-Sorosism, claiming George is a “Nazi” collaborating “puppet-master” behind the “New World Order”. Lyndon LaRouche has gone as far to claim George Soros is a global drug kingpin.

Since many call the Occupation Movement the liberal counterpart to the Tea Party, let us for the sake of argument, call Soros the liberal counterpart to the Tea Party funding fraternity, the Koch Brothers. While Soros might have some extreme conspiracy theories out there regarding him, the Koch Brothers have been exposed of having illegal dealings with Iran. I will take Soros over Koch any day of the week. See the Bloomberg expose on the Kochs below…

Another great conspiracy theory involving the Occupation movement involves a figure right here in Orlando: Shayan Elahi, the legal counsel for Occupy Orlando. In a rant by a United West investigator, Shayan Elahi is claimed to be the leader behind Central Florida’s leaderless “occupation”. The column in the link below mentions Elahi is a member of the Council on American Islamic Relations and then makes a radical jump to insist the CAIR is Hamas and Hamas is the Muslim Brotherhood and thus the organization that stepped into the power vacuum created by the Arab Spring is indeed running the show in Orlando.

While the author of the United West column is an adept at fear mongering, I still find the Islamic connection to the local movement curious. The anarchists, atheists, and hippies I have seen at these rallies are the furthest thing from Jihadists, but the pawns of any good conspiracy would not be the usual suspects. This is certainly one potential plot worth monitoring.

In summation, the most-prevalent conspiracy theories behind the Occupation Movement are reaches for some very biased “journalism” as a means to discredit the protests. While I am not ready to become an advocate for the Occupy Everything, the true motive has yet to be realized by the participants and those that oppose them.

Return to Freedom Park

The true motive behind Occupy Everything seems as elusive as that damned six-spotted tiger beetle. The best speech I heard at ‘Freedom Park’ was by an older gentleman (who admitted to being convicted of a felony via illegal drug possession, and thus being a vote-less citizen) who emphasized the need for all to become informed citizens, to participate in politics at the local level, to invest locally. The overall concept of “if everyone takes care of their own backyard, we will have a nicer neighborhood” is a positive sentiment to take forward, though perhaps a bit too subtle and longterm for those hungry activists in the park who are still split on many issues.

One issue was brought up last week in a general assembly: should Occupy Orlando officially endorse the “Free Bradley Manning” campaign. In an example of sound group judgment, this proposal was shot down. While the Occupation (and Vic Neverman) is a proponent of transparency, and by extension WikiLeaks, the ends do not justify the means and the criminal activity of Bradley Manning (stealing diplomatic cables and sending them to Julian Assange’s WikiLeaks to be published, which in part incited the Arab Spring) should be met by fair* punishment. Manning could be considered a hero, but he should not be pardoned for his treason.

*Many have claimed Manning’s interrogations have been excessive and the UN has not been allowed to meet with Manning to discuss his treatment and these allegations.

Saturday afternoon, I returned to Freedom Park post-march (post my pints of beer) to attend a general assembly. The first thirty minutes were an explanation of the rules of the assembly, how to make proposals, how to agree or disagree, etc. The soothing voice of Lady Fawkes adequately described the process as work and not a lot of fun. It was no surprise that the bandana-masked anarchists had not stuck around for this bureaucratic process. In the extra hour I spent pretending to comb the grass for insects, nothing of importance made its way up the hierarchy to be discussed by the crowd at large.

A cool breeze picked up in intensity and since I wasn’t planning on camping out overnight, I decided to make my escape. I had never said “hello” upon arrival and I didn’t bother saying “goodbye” as I left the park. I, Vic Neverman, do have one final message for the dreadlocked beauty behind the Guy Fawkes mask:

Cicindela sexgutta, baby. Cicindela sexgutta

“Occupy (insert location here)”… what is it all about?

The Spanish Inquisition that is the televised Establishment pundits are weary of Occupy Wall Street and its franchised spawn, crying witchcraft and demon-possession, or the contemporary equivalents of such. Is this Occupation Movement no more than a 21st Century St Vitus’ Dance – a mass psychogenic illness plaguing the underemployed and bored? Or is it something more: will the effect of all the dissatisfaction create a more liberal version of the Tea Party Movement?

The Wall Street Journal took a survey of Occupy Wall Street (or, more aptly, “Occupy Zucotti Park” in NYC) and found 64% of protestors were under 35 years old and as many as 31% would support violence in order to enact change. Of course, the WSJ is likely biased against any anti-Wall Street rally. Still, by assuming the Zucotti bunch represents the rest of the country is parallel to saying the Tunisian revolters were secular, so the rest of the Arab Spring must not be Islamic Fundamentalists. Occupy Wall Street is where the Occupation began, but it is not the voice of the entire movement. If there even is such a collective voice, it wouldn’t be limited to the five boroughs.

In Oakland, violence has broken out. While New York’s OWC might be having their “Valley Forge” moment with the onset of winter, Oakland’s occupation is having their “Spartacus” moment as the Californian participants are chanting, “we are all Scott Olsen” in reference to the injured veteran amongst their ranks. Watching the weekend play out in Oakland, trying to figure out where this movement is going, I became inspired by the Bay Area strategies. The Occupy Oakland group began sending out roving bands of spies to follow the Bay Area police. Social networks kept the larger body informed on where the various busses of police officers were moving. It was a grass roots cold war.

The Occupation’s espionage on the police inspired me, Vic Neverman, into initiating Operation Lambshank. I am slowly developing my own nationwide spy network to follow the Occupation around. Until I know for certain where this occupation mania is leading, I want to keep a NeverFinger on its pulse. Since the movement is no more New York than it is Oakland at this point, I decided to establish tentacles across the country.

I have deputized two of my trusted affiliates: one in Chicago and another in Oregon (Salem and Portland), both of whom have frequent run-ins with the Occupation of their respective cities. They will report to me and I, Vic Neverman, will compare their findings with my own infiltration of the Central Florida occupation.

Let the games begin.