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 Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone

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LindyLady
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PostSubject: Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone   Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone EmptyMon 16 Nov 2009, 2:41 pm

"Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone" by Robert Graysmith, which appeared in USA Today on November 11, 1997. A copy of this article was found at The Memory Hole website.

http://www.thememoryhole.org/crime/unabom-alone.htm

Quote :
Saying that Ted Kaczynski wasn't the only person behind the Unabomber mail-bomb campaign is the height of paranoid lunacy, right? Everybody knows that the reclusive former professor belongs in the heavily-populated pantheon of lone nuts.

Well, not everybody. In November 1997, as the trial of Ted Kaczynski was in its preparatory stages, true crime writer Robert Graysmith examined some of the huge flaws in the theory that Kaczynski was the sole perpetrator. Graysmith has investigated several cases and is best known for his classic work on the Zodiac Killer, titled simply Zodiac. His article on the Unabomber case was published in USA Today, the country's most mainstream, most widely read newspaper. Obviously, suggesting that Kaczynski acted in concert with at least one other person was not yet considered off limits.

At the end of his article, Graysmith optimistically states that the upcoming trial will get to the bottom of things. This was never to be. Judge Garland Ellis Burrell Jr. denied Kaczynski's requests to represent himself at trial, and on 22 January 1998 Kaczynski pled guilty. All of the crucial problems which Graysmith highlighted in his article--all the impossibilities and inconsistencies--were instantly forgotten as the government and media pretended that Kaczynski's guilty plea closed the book on the 18-year string of mail-bombings.


Maybe the Unabomber Wasn't Alone
Robert Graysmith
USA TODAY, 11 Nov 1997


When FBI agents swarmed into Ted Kaczynski's Montana cabin on April 3, 1996, they unearthed "a mother lode of evidence" that he was the Unabomber. The case seemed open and shut.

But as jury selection opens up Wednesday, serious questions about the government's case remain.

The FBI logged 720 items of evidence from the cabin. Agents searched that cabin so thoroughly they cataloged lint and dust. But what may be more important is what they did not find.

The cabin had no electricity, no lights, no power of any kind. Yet the suspected terrorist bomber, the subject of the longest search in FBI history, had built sophisticated bombs, cutting, welding and drilling metal pieces to do so. Where were the tools?

In the cabin FBI agents ferreted out a blue and red wooden-handled manual drill, seven wood drill bits, one drill base and a welding mask.

It's highly unlikely that those tools alone could have built the Unabomber's weapons.

-- There was no power drill, though the Unabomber's pipe bombs had precisely drilled fittings to secure the metal end caps that sealed the explosive inside.

-- There also was no electric welding set (and no gas tank or acetylene torch for a gas welding set). But beading and a change in the pearl-like grain of metal on the finished welded end plates of the bombs suggest high temperatures had been reached, such as the 6,300-degree heat from an oxyacetylene welding torch.

The fire pit in Kaczynski's garden might have generated high temperatures, but it seems unlikely he could have done any detailed welding work in such a place.

Each of the Unabomber's devices, with the exception of the first two, showed over-soldering. There was solder in that cabin, but no soldering iron.

Penciled numbers on the bomb pieces show that the devices were assembled and reassembled many times before being finished. Could he read those marks in the cabin's very dim light?

Kaczynski could have worked outside, either to assemble the bombs or work the metal in the fire pit, but agents had the suspect and the cabin under surveillance for two months before his arrest. Surely they would have seem him at this. Yet when they seized the cabin, they found a live bomb wrapped and ready to mail. Where had that come from?

Was there a hidden lab? And, if so, whose was it?

Kaczynski was a poor man. In an 18-year crime spree he spent only a few thousand dollars. Outfitting his own machine shop or bomb lab was surely beyond his means.

Had the accused secretly gained access to welding equipment in Lincoln or Helena, test-detonated his devices in the remote Scapegoat Wilderness and gathered components from the many junk piles owned by his neighbors? And if there was a lab or machine shop belonging to someone else, did he know Kaczynski was using it?

Until we know where and how the Unabomber made his bombs, the possibility of an accomplice cannot be ruled out.


There are other hints that there may be an accomplice. The Unabomber used the Park Hotel in Helena, Mont., as a halfway house, staying there before he left the state and when he returned. For every bombing, we can fix a stay at the Park hotel before and after.

There is only one exception. The registration records do not show any stay at the Park Hotel bracketing the bombing that killed Hugh Scrutton, one of the murders for which Kaczynski is about to go on trial.

Moreover, a bank deposit slip, apparently on a Helena bank for one of his three accounts, dated Dec. 11, 1985, places the former mathematics professor in Montana while the bomb that killed Scrutton was being placed in Sacramento.


FBI agent Terry Turchie wrote in his detailed affidavit that the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms "has been unable to determine as yet whether this posting date accurately indicates that Theodore Kaczynski personally made a deposit on that day." If that loophole stays open, it is a big one. It would have taken the accused 25-1/2 hours by bus, which is how he always traveled, to get to Sacramento to place that bomb.

Of course, with the trial and Kaczynski's detailed diaries, we will eventually know the answer to these and other inconsistencies.

I can hardly wait.

Copyright 1997 Gannett Company, Inc.
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PostSubject: Re: Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone   Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone EmptyTue 17 Nov 2009, 11:46 am

Geez, not another poor victimized innocent. It's really hard to take this kind of injustice....really makes me sick.. Sad
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PostSubject: Re: Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone   Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone EmptyTue 17 Nov 2009, 2:15 pm

ScoutsHonor wrote:
Geez, not another poor victimized innocent. It's really hard to take this kind of injustice....really makes me sick.. Sad
Well, we won't know because the state never had to actually prove it's case to a jury.
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PostSubject: Re: Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone   Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone EmptyTue 17 Nov 2009, 6:21 pm

Kaczynski is still alive. I believe he's in his late sixties. There's an article I read on the Net recently, from 2008 I think, that was somewhat interesting. I'll look for it and post it here. The least we can do for this man is give him some attention, because just a quick read of Graysmith's piece is enough to convince me he was framed.

Did you read the Wiki info re his MK Ultra involvement??? This evil garbage just never ends.

Read
here:
http//www.google.com/#hl=en&source=...443ffcb5a5cce1
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Project...table_subjects


Last edited by ScoutsHonor on Tue 17 Nov 2009, 7:44 pm; edited 1 time in total
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PostSubject: Re: Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone   Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone EmptyTue 17 Nov 2009, 7:35 pm

Interview with Ted
Kaczynski
http://www.primitivism.com/index.html

Kaczynski's story represents a parable:

"Once upon a time there was a continent
covered with beautiful pristine wilderness, where giant trees towered over
lush mountainsides and rivers ran wild and free through deserts, where
raptors soared and beavers labored at their pursuits and people lived in
harmony with wild nature, accomplishing every task they needed to
accomplish on a dailv basis using only stones, bones and wood, walking
gently on the Earth. Then came the explorers, conquerors, missionaries,
soldiers, merchants and immigrants with their advanced technology, guns,
and government. The wild life that had existed for millennia started
dying, killed by a disease brought by alien versions of progress, arrogant
visions of manifest destiny and a runaway utilitarian science.


"In just 500 years, almost all the giant
trees have been clear-cut and chemicals now poison the rivers; the eagle
has faced extinction and the beaver's work has been supplanted by the Army
Corps of Fngineers. And how have the people fared? What one concludes is
most likely dependent on how well one is faring economically, emotionally
and physically in this competitive technological world and the level of
privilege one is afforded by the system. But for those who feel a deep
connection to, a love and longing for, the wilderness and the wildness
that once was, for the millions now crowded in cities, poor and oppressed,
unable to find a clear target for their rage because the system is
virtually omnipotent, these people are not faring well. All around us, as
a result of human greed and a lack of respect for all life, wild nature
and Mother Earth’s creatures are suffering. These beings are the victims
of industrial society.


"Cutting the bloody cord, that’s what we
feel, the delirious exhilaration of independence, a rebirth backward in
time and into primeval liberty, into freedom in the most simple, literal,
primitive meaning of the word, the only meaning that really counts. The
freedom, for example, to commit murder and get away with it scot-free,
with no other burden than the jaunty halo of conscience.


"My God! I’m thinking, what incredible
shit we put up with most of our lives--the domestic routine, the stupid
and useless and degrading jobs, the insufferable arrogance of elected
officials, the crafty cheating and the slimy advertising of the
businessmen, the tedious wars in which we kill our buddies instead of our
real enemies back home in the capital, the foul, diseased and hideous
cities and towns we live in, the constant petty tyranny of the automatic
washers, the automobiles and TV machines and telephones-! ah Christ!,...
what intolerable garbage and what utterly useless crap we bury ourselves
in day by day, while patiently enduring at the same time the creeping
strangulation of the clean white collar and the rich but modest
four-in-hand garrote!


"Such are my thoughts—you wouldn’t call
them thoughts would you?—such are my feelings, a mixture of revulsion
and delight, as we float away on the river, leaving behind for a while all
that we most heartily and joyfully detest. That’s what the first taste
of the wild does to a man, after having been penned up for too long in the
city. No wonder the Authorities are so anxious to smother the wilderness
under asphalt and reservoirs. They know what they are doing. Play safe.
Ski only in a clockwise direction. Let’s all have fun together."

--Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire, 1968

"I read Edward Abbey in mid-eighties and
that was one of the things that gave me the idea that, ‘yeah, there are
other people out there that have the same attitudes that I do.’ I read
The Monkeywrench Gang, I think it was. But what first motivated me
wasn’t anything I read. I just got mad seeing the machines ripping up
the woods and so forth..."

-Dr. Theodore Kaczynski, in an interview with the
Earth First! Journal, Administrative Maximum Facility Prison, Florence,
Colorado, USA, June 1999.


Theodore Kaczynski developed a negative attitude
toward the techno-industrial system very early in his life. It was in
1962, during his last year at Harvard,he explained, when
he began feeling a sense of disillusionment with the svstem. And he says
he felt quite alone. "Back in the sixties there had been some
critiques of technology, but as far as 1 knew there weren't people who
were against the technological system as-such... It wasn't until 1971 or
72, shortly after I moved to Montana, that I read Jaques Ellul's book, The
Technological Societv
." The book is a masterpiece. I was very
enthusiastic when I read it. I thought, 'look, this guy is saying things I
have been wanting to say all along.'"


Why, I asked, did he personally come to be
against technology? His immediate response was, "Why do you think? It
reduces people to gears in a machine, it takes away our autonomy and our
freedom." But there was obviously more to it than that. Along with
the rage he felt against the machine, his words revealed an obvious love
for a very special place in the wilds of Montana. He became most animated,
spoke most passionately, while relating stories about the mountain life he
created there and then sought to defend against the encroachment of the
system. "The honest truth is that I am not really politically
oriented. I would have really rather just be living out in the woods. If
nobody had started cutting roads through there and cutting the trees down
and come buzzing around in helicopters and snowmobiles I would still just
be living there and the rest of the world could just take care of itself.
I got involved in political issues because I was driven to it, so to
speak. I'm not really inclined in that direction."


Kaczynski moved in a cabin that he built himself
near Lincoln, Montana in 1971. His first decade there he concentrated on
acquiring the primitive skills that would allow him to live autonomously
in the wild. He explained that the urge to do this had been a part of his
psyche since childhood. "Unquestionably there is no doubt that the
reason I dropped out of the technological system is because I had read
about other ways of life, in particular that of primitive peoples. When I
was about eleven I remember going to the little local library in Evergreen
Park, Illinois. They had a series of books published by the Smithsonian
Institute that addressed various areas of science. Among other things, I
read about anthropology in a book on human prehistory. I found it
fascinating. After reading a few more books on the subject of Neanderthal
man and so forth, I had this itch to read more. I started asking myself
why and I came to the realization that what I really wanted was not to
read another book, but that I just wanted to live that way."


Kaczynski says he began an intensive study of how
to identify wild edible plants, track animals and replicate primitive
technologies, approaching the task like the scholar he was. "Many
years ago I used to read books like, for example, Ernest Thompson Seton's
"Lives of Game Animals" to learn about animal behavior. But
after a certain point, after living in the woods for a while, I developed
an aversion to reading any scientific accounts. In some sense reading what
the professional biologists said about wildlife ruined or contaminated it
for me. What began to matter to me was the knowledge I acquired about
wildlife through personal experience.


Kaczynski spoke at length about the life he led
in his small cabin with no electricity and no running water. It was this
lifestyle and the actual cabin that his attorneys would use to try to call
his sanity into question during his trial. It was a defense strategy that
Kaczynski said naturally greatly offended him. We spoke about the
particulars of his daily routine. "I have quite a bit of experience
identifying wild edible plants," he said proudly, "it's
certainly one of the most fulfilling activities that I know of, going out
in the woods and looking for things that are good to eat. But the trouble
with a place like Montana, how it differs from the Eastern forests, is
that starchy plant foods are much less available. There are edible roots
but they are generally very small ones and the distribution is limited.
The best ones usually grow down in the lower areas which are agricultural
areas, actually ranches, and the ranchers presumably don't want you
digging up their meadows, so starchy foods were civilized foods. I bought
flour, rice, corn meal, rolled oats, powdered milk and cooking oil."


Kaczynski lamented never being able to accomplish
three things to his satisfaction: building a crossbow that he could use
for hunting, making a good pair of deerhide moccasins that would withstand
the daily hikes he took on the rocky hillsides, and learning how to make
fire consistently without using matches. He says he kept very busy and was
happy with his solitary life. "One thing I found when living in the
woods was that you get so that you don't worry about the future, you don't
worry about dying, if things are good right now you think, 'well, if I die
next week, so what, things are good right now.' I think it was Jane Austen
who wrote in one of her novels that happiness is alwavs something that you
are anticipating in the future, not something that you have right now.
This isn't always true. Perhaps it is true in civilization, but when you
get out of the system and become re-adapted to a different way of life,
happiness is often something that you have right now."


He readily admits he committed quite a few acts
of monkeywrenching during the seventies, but there came a time when he
decided to devote more energy into fighting against the system. He
describes the catalyst:

"The best place, to me, was the largest
remnant of this plateau that dates from the tertiary age. It's kind of
rolling country, not flat, and when you get to the edge of it you find
these ravines that cut very steeply in to cliff-like drop-offs and there
was even a waterfall there. It was about a two days hike from my cabin.
That was the best spot until the summer of 1983. That summer there were
too many people around my cabin so I decided I needed some peace. I went
back to the plateau and when I got there I found they had put a road right
through the middle of it" His voice trails off; he pauses, then
continues, "You just can't imagine how upset I was. It was from that
point on I decided that, rather than trying to acquire further wilderness
skills, I would work on getting back at the system. Revenge. That wasn't
the first time I ever did any monkeywrenching, but at that point, that
sort of thing became a priority for me... I made a conscious effort to
read things that were relevant to social issues, specifically the
technological problem. For one thing, my concern was to understand how
societies change, and for that purpose I read anthropology, history, a
little bit of sociology and psychology, but mostly anthropology and
history."


Kaczvnski soon came to the conclusion that
reformist strategies that merely called for "fixing" the system
were not enough, and he professed little confidence in the idea that a
mass change in consciousness might someday be able to undermine the
technological system. "I don't think it can be done. In part because
of the human tendency, for most people, there are exceptions, to take the
path of least resistance. They'll take the easy way out, and giving up
your car, your television set, your electricity, is not the path of least
resistance for most people. As I see it, I don't think there is any
controlled or planned way in which we can dismantle the industrial system.
I think that the only way we will get rid of it is if it breaks down and
collapses. That's why I think the consequences will be something like the
Russian Revolution, or circumstances like we see in other places in the
world today like the Balkans, Afghanistan, Rwanda. This does, I think,
pose a dilemma for radicals who take a non-violent point of view. When
things break down, there is going to be violence and this does raise a
question, I don't know if I exactly want to call it a moral question, but
the point is that for those who realize the need to do away with the
techno-industrial system, if you work for its collapse, in effect you are
killing a lot of people. If it collapses, there is going to be social
disorder, there is going to be starvation, there aren't going to be any
more spare parts or fuel for farm equipment, there won't be any more
pesticide or fertilizer on which modern agriculture is dependent. So there
isn't going to be enough food to go around, so then what happens? This is
something that, as far as I've read, I haven't seen any radicals facing up
to.


At this point he was asking me, as a radical, to
face up to this issue. I responded I didn't know the answer. He said
neither did he, clasped his hands together and looked at me intently. His
distinctly Midwestern accent, speech pattern, and the colloquialisms he
used were so familiar and I thought about how much he reminded me of the
professors I had as a student of anthropology, history and political
philosophy in Ohio. I decided to relate to him the story of how one of my
graduate advisors, Dr. Resnick, also a Harvard alumni, once posed the
following question in a seminar on political legitimacy: Say a group of
scientists asks for a meeting with the leading politicians in the country
to discuss the introduction of a new invention. The scientists explain
that the benefits of the technology are indisputable, that the invention
will increase efficiency and make everyone's life easier. The only down
side, they caution, is that for it to work, forty-thousand innocent people
will have to be killed each year. Would the politicians decide to adopt
the new invention or not? The class was about to argue that such a
proposal would be immediately rejected out of hand, then he casually
remarked, "We already have it--the automobile." He had forced us
to ponder how much death and innocent suffering our society endures as a
result of our commitment to maintaining the technological system--a system
we all are born into now and have no choice but to try and adapt to.
Everyone can see the existing technological society is violent, oppressive
and destructive, but what can we do?


"The big problem is that people don't
believe a revolution is possible, and it is not possible precisely because
they do not believe it is possible. To a large extent I think the
eco-anarchist movement is accomplishing a great deal, but I think they
could do it better... The real revolutionaries should separate themselves
from the reformers… And I think that it would be good if a conscious
effort was being made to get as manv people as possible introduced to the
wilderness. In a general way, I think what has to be done is not to try
and convince or persuade the majority of people that we are right, as much
as try to increase tensions in society to the point where things start to
break down. To create a situation where people get uncomfortable enough
that they’re going to rebel. So the question is how do you increase
those tensions? I don't know."


Kaczynski wanted to talk about every aspect of
the techno-industrial system in detail, and further, about why and how we
should be working towards bringing about its demise. It was a subject we
had both given a lot of thought to. We discussed direct action and the
limits of political ideologies. But by far, the most interesting
discussions revolved around our views about the superiority of wild life
and wild nature. Towards the end of the interview, Kaczynski related a
poignant story about the close relationship he had developed with snowshoe
rabbit.


"This is kind of personal," he begins
by saying, and I ask if he wants me to turn off the tape. He says
"no, I can tell you about it. While I was living in the woods I sort
of invented some gods for myself" and he laughs. "Not that I
believed in these things intellectually, but they were ideas that sort of
corresponded with some of the feelings I had. I think the first one I
invented was Grandfather Rabbit. You know the snowshoe rabbits were my
main source of meat during the winters. I had spent a lot of time learning
what they do and following their tracks all around before I could get
close enough to shoot them. Sometimes you would track a rabbit around and
around and then the tracks disappear. You can't figure out where that
rabbit went and lose the trail. I invented a myth for myself, that this
was the Grandfather Rabbit, the grandfather who was responsible for the
existence of all other rabbits. He was able to disappear, that is why you
couldn't catch him and why you would never see him... Every time I shot a
snowshoe rabbit, I would always say 'thank you Grandfather Rabbit.' After
a while I acquired an urge to draw snowshoe rabbits. I sort of got
involved with them to the extent that they would occupy a great deal of my
thought. I actually did have a wooden object that, among other things, I
carved a snowshoe rabbit in. I planned to do a better one, just for the
snowshoe rabbits, but I never did get it done. There was another one that
I sometimes called the Will ‘o the Wisp, or the wings of the morning.
That's when you go out in to the hills in the morning and you just feel
drawn to go on and on and on and on, then you are following the wisp. That
was another god that I invented for myself."


So Ted Kaczynski, living out in the wilderness,
like generations of prehistoric peoples before him, had innocently
rediscovered the forest's gods. I wondered if he felt that those gods had
forsaken him now as he sat facing life in prison with no more freedom, no
more connection to the wild, nothing left of that life that was so
important to him except for his sincere love of nature, his love of
knowledge and his commitment to the revolutionary project of hastening the
collapse of the techno-industrial system. I asked if he was afraid of
losing his mind, if the circumstances he found himself in now would break
his spirit? He answered, "No, what worries me is that I might in a
sense adapt to this environment and come to be comfortable here and not
resent it anymore. And I am afraid that as the years go by that I may
forget, I may begin to lose my memories of the mountains and the woods and
that's what really worries me, that I might lose those memories, and lose
that sense of contact with wild nature in general. But I am not afraid
they are going to break my spirit. "And he offered the following
advice to green anarchists who share his critique of the technological
system and want to hasten the collapse of, as Edward Abbey put it,
"the Earth-destroying juggernaut of industrial civilization":
"Never lose hope, be persistent and stubborn and never give up. There
are many instances in history where apparent losers suddenly turn out to
be winners unexpectedly, so you should never conclude all hope is lost."



S.H. NOTE: Ted Kaczyinski steadfastly maintains that he is not the "Unabomber", and is
innocent. And he ascribes his brother David's action (in turning him in) to a complex
mixture of 'worship and jealousy.'
****
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PostSubject: Re: Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone   Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone EmptyTue 17 Nov 2009, 9:20 pm

ScoutsHonor wrote:
Kaczynski is still alive. I believe he's in his late sixties. There's an article I read on the Net recently, from 2008 I think, that was somewhat interesting. I'll look for it and post it here. The least we can do for this man is give him some attention, because just a quick read of Graysmith's piece is enough to convince me he was framed.

Did you read the Wiki info re his MK Ultra involvement???
This evil garbage just never ends.

Read
here:
http//www.google.com/#hl=en&source=...443ffcb5a5cce1
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Project...table_subjects
I didn't see the Wiki but I saw in the Das Netz documentary that he was a mind control victim.

I don't think they actually used the mind control victims to carry out any of their dirty deeds, except perhaps some of the peripheral actions, just enough to be "seen" in various places.

My guess is that events such as the kind that Kaczynski is accuse of are done by professional teams.

I'll check out the piece the you posted, thanks.
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PostSubject: Re: Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone   Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone EmptyTue 17 Nov 2009, 10:37 pm

I forgot about the Das Netz documentary--!

Going to watch it now, thanks for reminding me.

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PostSubject: SHIP OF FOOLS by Ted Kaczynski   Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone EmptyFri 20 Nov 2009, 11:46 pm

SHIP OF FOOLS
by Ted Kaczynski

Published by OFF! Magazine, a zine produced by students at SUNY
Binghamton and edited by Tim La Pietra.


Once upon a time, the captain and the mates of a ship grew so vain of
their seamanship, so full of hubris and so impressed with themselves, that they went mad.
They turned the ship north and sailed until they met with icebergs and dangerous floes,
and they kept sailing north into more and more perilous waters, solely in order to give
themselves opportunities to perform ever-more-brilliant feats of seamanship.

As the ship reached higher and higher latitudes, the passengers and crew became
increasingly uncomfortable. They began quarreling among themselves and complaining of the
conditions under which they lived.



"Shiver me timbers," said an able seaman, "if this ain’t the worst
voyage I’ve ever been on. The deck is slick with ice; when I’m on lookout the
wind cuts through me jacket like a knife; every time I reef the foresail I blamed-near
freeze me fingers; and all I get for it is a miserable five shillings a month!"

"You think you have it bad!" said a lady passenger. "I can’t sleep
at night for the cold. Ladies on this ship don’t get as many blankets as the men. It
isn’t fair!"


A Mexican sailor chimed in: "¡Chingado! I’m only getting half the wages of
the Anglo seamen. We need plenty of food to keep us warm in this climate, and I’m not
getting my share; the Anglos get more. And the worst of it is that the mates always give
me orders in English instead of Spanish."


"I have more reason to complain than anybody," said an American Indian
sailor. "If the palefaces hadn’t robbed me of my ancestral lands, I
wouldn’t even be on this ship, here among the icebergs and arctic winds. I would just
be paddling a canoe on a nice, placid lake. I deserve compensation. At the very least, the
captain should let me run a crap game so that I can make some money."


The bosun spoke up: "Yesterday the first mate called me a ‘fruit’ just
because I suck cocks. I have a right to suck cocks without being called names for
it!"


It’s not only humans who are mistreated on this ship," interjected an
animal-lover among the passengers, her voice quivering with indignation. "Why, last
week I saw the second mate kick the ship’s dog twice!"


One of the passengers was a college professor. Wringing his hands he exclaimed,
"All this is just awful! It’s immoral! It’s racism, sexism, speciesism,
homophobia, and exploitation of the working class! It’s discrimination! We must have
social justice: Equal wages for the Mexican sailor, higher wages for all sailors,
compensation for the Indian, equal blankets for the ladies, a guaranteed right to suck
cocks, and no more kicking the dog!"


"Yes, yes!" shouted the passengers. "Aye-aye!" shouted the crew.
"It’s discrimination! We have to demand our rights!"

The cabin boy cleared his throat.

"Ahem. You all have good reasons to complain. But it seems to me that what we
really have to do is get this ship turned around and headed back south, because if we keep
going north we’re sure to be wrecked sooner or later, and then your wages, your
blankets, and your right to suck cocks won’t do you any good, because we’ll all
drown."


But no one paid any attention to him, because he was only the cabin boy.
The captain and the mates, from their station on the poop deck, had been watching and
listening. Now they smiled and winked at one another, and at a gesture from the captain
the third mate came down from the poop deck, sauntered over to where the passengers and
crew were gathered, and shouldered his way in amongst them. He put a very serious
expression on his face and spoke thusly:


"We officers have to admit that some really inexcusable things have been happening
on this ship. We hadn’t realized how bad the situation was until we heard your
complaints. We are men of good will and want to do right by you. But – well –
the captain is rather conservative and set in his ways, and may have to be prodded a bit
before he’ll make any substantial changes. My personal opinion is that if you protest
vigorously – but always peacefully and without violating any of the ship’s rules
– you would shake the captain out of his inertia and force him to address the
problems of which you so justly complain."


Having said this, the third mate headed back toward the poop deck. As he went, the
passengers and crew called after him, "Moderate! Reformer! Goody-liberal!
Captain’s stooge!" But they nevertheless did as he said. They gathered in a body
before the poop deck, shouted insults at the officers, and demanded their rights: "I
want higher wages and better working conditions," cried the able seaman. "Equal
blankets for women," cried the lady passenger. "I want to receive my orders in
Spanish," cried the Mexican sailor. "I want the right to run a crap game,"
cried the Indian sailor. "I don’t want to be called a fruit," cried the
bosun. "No more kicking the dog," cried the animal lover. "Revolution
now," cried the professor.


The captain and the mates huddled together and conferred for several minutes, winking,
nodding and smiling at one another all the while. Then the captain stepped to the front of
the poop deck and, with a great show of benevolence, announced that the able seaman’s
wages would be raised to six shillings a month; the Mexican sailor’s wages would be
raised to two-thirds the wages of an Anglo seaman, and the order to reef the foresail
would be given in Spanish; lady passengers would receive one more blanket; the Indian
sailor would be allowed to run a crap game on Saturday nights; the bosun wouldn’t be
called a fruit as long as he kept his cocksucking strictly private; and the dog
wouldn’t be kicked unless he did something really naughty, such as stealing food from
the galley.


The passengers and crew celebrated these concessions as a great victory, but the next
morning, they were again feeling dissatisfied.

"Six shillings a month is a pittance, and I still freeze me fingers when I reef
the foresail," grumbled the able seaman. "I’m still not getting the same
wages as the Anglos, or enough food for this climate," said the Mexican sailor.
"We women still don’t have enough blankets to keep us warm," said the lady
passenger. The other crewmen and passengers voiced similar complaints, and the professor
egged them on.


When they were done, the cabin boy spoke up – louder this time so that the others
could not easily ignore him:


"It’s really terrible that the dog gets kicked for stealing a bit of bread
from the galley, and that women don’t have equal blankets, and that the able seaman
gets his fingers frozen; and I don’t see why the bosun shouldn’t suck cocks if
he wants to. But look how thick the icebergs are now, and how the wind blows harder and
harder! We’ve got to turn this ship back toward the south, because if we keep going
north we’ll be wrecked and drowned."


"Oh yes," said the bosun, "It’s just so awful that we keep heading
north. But why should I have to keep cocksucking in the closet? Why should I be called a
fruit? Ain’t I as good as everyone else?"


"Sailing north is terrible," said the lady passenger. "But don’t
you see? That’s exactly why women need more blankets to keep them warm. I demand
equal blankets for women now!"


"It’s quite true," said the professor, "that sailing to the north
imposes great hardships on all of us. But changing course toward the south would be
unrealistic. You can’t turn back the clock. We must find a mature way of dealing with
the situation."


"Look," said the cabin boy, "If we let those four madmen up on the poop
deck have their way, we’ll all be drowned. If we ever get the ship out of danger,
then we can worry about working conditions, blankets for women, and the right to suck
cocks. But first we’ve got to get this vessel turned around. If a few of us get
together, make a plan, and show some courage, we can save ourselves. It wouldn’t take
many of us – six or eight would do. We could charge the poop, chuck those lunatics
overboard, and turn the ship to the south."


The professor elevated his nose and said sternly, "I don’t believe in
violence. It’s immoral."

"It’s unethical ever to use violence," said the bosun.
"I’m terrified of violence," said the lady passenger.
The captain and the mates had been watching and listening all the while. At a signal
from the captain, the third mate stepped down to the main deck. He went about among the
passengers and crew, telling them that there were still many problems on the ship.


"We have made much progress," he said, "But much remains to be done.
Working conditions for the able seaman are still hard, the Mexican still isn’t
getting the same wages as the Anglos, the women still don’t have quite as many
blankets as the men, the Indian’s Saturday-night crap game is a paltry compensation
for his lost lands, it’s unfair to the bosun that he has to keep his cocksucking in
the closet, and the dog still gets kicked at times.


"I think the captain needs to be prodded again. It would help if you all would put
on another protest – as long as it remains nonviolent."


As the third mate walked back toward the stern, the passengers and the crew shouted
insults after him, but they nevertheless did what he said and gathered in front of the
poop deck for another protest. They ranted and raved and brandished their fists, and they
even threw a rotten egg at the captain (which he skillfully dodged).


After hearing their complaints, the captain and the mates huddled for a conference,
during which they winked and grinned broadly at one another. Then the captain stepped to
the front of the poop deck and announced that the able seaman would be given gloves to
keep his fingers warm, the Mexican sailor would receive wages equal to three-fourths the
wages of an Anglo seaman, the women would receive yet another blanket, the Indian sailor
could run a crap game on Saturday and Sunday nights, the bosun would be allowed to suck
cocks publicly after dark, and no one could kick the dog without special permission from
the captain.


The passengers and crew were ecstatic over this great revolutionary victory, but by the
next morning they were again feeling dissatisfied and began grumbling about the same old
hardships.


The cabin boy this time was getting angry.

"You damn fools!" he shouted. "Don’t you see what the captain and
the mates are doing? They’re keeping you occupied with your trivial grievances about
blankets and wages and the dog being kicked so that you won’t think about what is
really wrong with this ship --– that it’s getting farther and farther to the
north and we’re all going to be drowned. If just a few of you would come to your
senses, get together, and charge the poop deck, we could turn this ship around and save
ourselves. But all you do is whine about petty little issues like working conditions and
crap games and the right to suck cocks."


The passengers and the crew were incensed.
"Petty!!" cried the Mexican, "Do you think it’s reasonable that I
get only three-fourths the wages of an Anglo sailor? Is that petty?

"How can you call my grievance trivial? shouted the bosun. "Don’t you
know how humiliating it is to be called a fruit?"

"Kicking the dog is not a ‘petty little issue!’" screamed the
animal-lover. "It’s heartless, cruel, and brutal!"


"Alright then," answered the cabin boy. "These issues are not petty and
trivial. Kicking the dog is cruel and brutal and it is humiliating to be called a fruit.
But in comparison to our real problem – in comparison to the fact that the ship is
still heading north – your grievances are petty and trivial, because if we don’t
get this ship turned around soon, we’re all going to drown.


"Fascist!" said the professor.
"Counterrevolutionary!" said the lady passenger. And all of the passengers
and crew chimed in one after another, calling the cabin boy a fascist and a
counterrevolutionary. They pushed him away and went back to grumbling about wages, and
about blankets for women, and about the right to suck cocks, and about how the dog was
treated. The ship kept sailing north, and after a while it was crushed between two
icebergs and everyone drowned.


© Ted Kaczynski, 1999
[b]
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incognito

incognito


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Join date : 2009-10-20
Location : in the rainforest

Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone Empty
PostSubject: Re: Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone   Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone EmptySat 21 Nov 2009, 1:11 am

Great thread.

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ScoutsHonor

ScoutsHonor


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PostSubject: Re: Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone   Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone EmptySat 21 Nov 2009, 11:28 am

Great find! Thanks.
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Clairvoyant




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PostSubject: Re: Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone   Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone EmptySun 22 Nov 2009, 5:39 pm

Very interesting stuff, I didn't know much of anything about the
"unibomber", I think I was in middle school at the time he was
captured.

In what ScoutsHonor posted it says at the end that he maintains that he is not the unibomber, but he plead guilty right? Just wondering if anyone could shed some light on that.

Anyways aside from the guilty or not guilty question, I really enjoyed reading about his anti-industrial desires and I can really relate to them. I haven't given a whole lot of thought to it but the whole industrial-consumption economy really seems to be unsustainable, certainly with what seems to be an accelerating rate of consumption that we see now.

I have to wonder if the elite knows this, and purposefully creates these high consumption levels to glean the profit off the top, only to destroy the machine through war/depression/etc and then start the process over again.

I think of all the things I have in my modest apartment, computers, cell phones, furnature, everything. Just me by myself having these luxuries seems harmless at first, but when you think about the about the resources used and waste created to not only create these products but to also replace them with better versions continuously it starts to seem very wrong.
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They Live

They Live


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PostSubject: Re: Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone   Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone EmptySun 22 Nov 2009, 10:31 pm

Kraig wrote:
In what ScoutsHonor posted it says at the end that he maintains that he is not the unibomber, but he plead guilty right? Just wondering if anyone could shed some light on that.
I guess the issue is that the state never had to prove its case, so we can't really be sure because there were so many questions raised about the evidence against Kaczynski.
Bert.G wrote:
All of the crucial problems which Graysmith
highlighted in his article--all the impossibilities and
inconsistencies--were instantly forgotten as the government and media
pretended that Kaczynski's guilty plea closed the book on the 18-year
string of mail-bombings.
I also seem to recall in the Daz Netz documentary that Kaczynski felt pressured into the guilty plea, but I could be wrong on that point.
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ScoutsHonor

ScoutsHonor


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PostSubject: Re: Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone   Maybe the Unabomber wasn't alone EmptyTue 24 Nov 2009, 7:10 am

Quote :
In what ScoutsHonor posted it says at the end that he maintains that he
is not the unibomber, but he plead guilty right? Just wondering if
anyone could shed some light on that.

As I understand it, it was a plea bargain. He was offered a choice of facing the death penalty (in a trial) or pleading guilty and saving his life. He had very little choice... Sad, isn't it..
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