Contact

I have news. Excitement. Disappointment. And newness to my drab life among this slow release/slow cook nightmare that is Soybean Island.

First I must project some images. Small. Banal. Boring images. The Apparatus does not read. They involve themselves in images and soundbites and the occasional caption--yet, I must (as always) be careful.

So, here:

And, there.

My news is that I have made contact.

I have confirmed my hypothesis that the original inhabitants--the Eye-Nye-Habs--do exist. At least descendants of these aboriginal indigenous humans still live amongst the unknowing denizens (and we renditioned prisoners) on this non-emerald isle.

Yes.

I was walking through yet another park when I was approached by a group of them. I did not know they were them. But they were. They convinced me that that they were them. Yes. And I was taken into a secret spot for counsel. A council. Me and them. Them and I.

They told me many things. Including their work--as I suspected--as I hoped, hoped, hoped--to oppose and eventually overthrow The Apparatus and regain control of their ancestral lands (be it as it may).

Wow!

And they want me to help.

That is, they threatened to expose me if I did not help.

So, though I very well may be willing to help, I have little choice but to help.

Ah:

So. It turns out I must be careful what I say even to them. But, given a choice (of which I have very few) I would chose to work with them. Even though I have little choice.

They did inform me that there is an underground network of resistance to The Apparatus. That they know about the people of prisoner status, like myself. They pointed out--quite pointedly--that all regular citizens of Soybean Island are prisoners themselves. These inhabitant just don't realize it. The only citizens with freedom (and knowledge) are The Apparatus, The Corporate Masters and the Elite of The Elite.

They--the vestige offspring of the Eye-Nye-Habs--call these unenlightened low-information citizens Snailians.

Yes.

Snailians.

Interesting.

I am now, officially, an agent for the resistance. I am a Non-Snailian in cahoots with the opposing force.

I have been asked to continue with my job as An Object of Curiosity.

I have been given the sortie of doing nothing different than what I have been doing. At least for the time being.

Hmmm.

Seems like the new boss is the same as the old boss . . .

We shall see.

Please do not inform on me, dear reader who does not read. Who evidently does not exist . . .

This is all I dare say.


Goodbye from Soybean Island