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Hog Productions
CyberHog Unlimited
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Network Combat Diaries Present
The Alternative Fortean Times
(beware of imitations)
http://www.combat-diaries.co.uk
Panzerben's Combat Diary 22 for October/November 2004
Webmaster Stephen Peverley. steve@kingston-design.fsnet co.uk
OUR FIRST QUARTER MILLION HITS!
377, 605 Successful requests for the Combat Diaries in nine months
SHE'S JUST READ THE COMBAT DIARIES
And remember – intellectual sex is good for you!
Warning:
Statement of Editorial Policy
Impure Unlicensed Product! Consume at your Own Risk!
First a word of warning about the content of the Combat Diaries from our Roving Reporter, George Mensche. We must admit that George is a bit crude and somewhat rude and outspoken. However some agree that there is much wisdom in what this grizzled veteran says. He’s in a bit of a temper this month, for which we offer no apologies. It is just that the Electric Cinema Club Bar on the Portobello Road ran out of Foster’s Best Bitter and Newcastle Brown at lunchtime, so stay with it, please. It doesn’t last long, thank the gods, and here is his portrait, just in case you forgot what his thoughts look like.
“Now all
straight factual goody two-shoes beware: in case of any misunderstanding,
may we first add a Combat Viewer Consumer Warning. We have to say
that this Combat Product contains impurities
numberless,
and it is consumed at a Viewer’s own risk. This product is hopelessly
contaminated. As such, there is no fair play, democracy, political
correctness, and certainly no blessed objective balance in
Panzerben's Combat Diaries.
This is cybermedia. Anything (and I mean anything) is likely to come out
of the dark at you, glowing like the skulls of the old seaside ghost
trains. We use pop, surrealism, collage, soap opera, and tabloid
techniques. We insult, outrage, attack, and libel those bastards who
thoroughly deserve such a treatment, and many others who do not, on
principle alone.
So folks if you want sensible statements in little boxes, this is not the web site for you. Each one of us here cherishes a not-so-secret thought of putting a jack-hammer through a concert grand at the high pitch of a symphonic performance and listening to the discords, the cries for refunds, and the spewing of muesli and mulled vintage. We would also like reading the accusations of nihilistic vandalism in the Gwardian and Twelegraph and the Parish Parsons from ye olde English Protestant salient of Mwagonia Mwagazine, or the Fortean Times (our sister paper), which is about as square as Bertrand Russell’s old long johns.
Now let this oxygen reach your profoundly grateful 21st century head, breathe deep, and prepare for rescue from those who are after the arse of your fertile imagination. But remember that Panzerben's Combat Diaries are not here to educate, inform, or convert you. Their sole object is to offer the greatest intellectual sex you have ever experienced.
If you want to scream and scream again brother and sister bears, this is the place to do it, and don’t let the sceptics tell you there ‘ain’t no Santa Claus, aliens, and nothing behind the veil of the temple, or even hovering over Batley Boiler House for that matter. Treasure your fantasies, your illusions, your self-deceptions, your hopeless desires, ridiculous thoughts, precious silliness, your dreams, and all your nonsense, because without them the system-drones will have you under control.
And you would not want that to happen, would you?
Because once they’ve got you under control, you are dead, brothers and sisters. You might still be glued to the peasant culture coming off the 21-inch Nikon and dining off diseased animals, but no longer are you that miraculous marvel of Nature called a nasty, perverse, and subversive human being. For myself, I never believed that the truth of the universe was something to do with Good Behaviour. I refuse to believe therefore that a man who could walk on water would have had any problems with so simple a thing as a crucifixion.
As Roving Reporter of the Alternative Fortean Times I now wish to give all Combat Viewers a triad of Fortean Combat Mantras by means of which psychic protection can be secured. It is:
When We Imagine, We Create a Form of Life
Disbelief is as Great a Miracle as Belief
Beware Science as a Route to Reality. I prefer the Dean Martin Song Book
Believe it or not, this is what blows for freedom look like. Those who have not been alive since 1500 might have forgotten, or they may not have seen such things before and thought history began with Perry Como and ice cream soda pops. Or indeed modern viewers might have confused such things blows for freedom with Bill and Ben the Flowerpot Men, Reality TV, and quantum eschatology. To blast the virtual golems of these PR Packages apart, I recommend that you all memorise the above Combat Mantra Triad and hold it in front of you like a cross before a vampire. This will save you from being infected by such downloads as the Big Deal God (There Is No Other!) who struggles for Prime Time just as energetically as Persil Washes Whiter.
This Mantra Triad will also stop the cosmic autodiallers putting the Jesus show or the Allah-what’s-his-name show into the hidden files of your cookie collection. And watch out for Isaac Newton and Michael Jackson. These are all versions of the same set of performances and programs you can put your fist through. Of course they all beg you to download. Once in your net, they will proliferate like a virus and you’ll be eating muesli, making intelligent remarks about appalling British films, being nice to gays, and talking about ballerinas and French plays before you can say South Bank.
Such programs are the “aliens” we talk about so often these days, and once inside your head, these harpies will run you as an agenda quicker than you can say Reality TV. Every single one of these universal sets of instructions is after the clit & cock & balls & arse of your imagination. As for divine revelation, you’d be far better off going down to your local DSS and asking them for food, clothing, money, and accommodation. As for the “scientific pursuit of reality,” you’d be far better off with a cut-price Dean Martin CD set, Old Mother Riley films, or even a cheap Japanese reproduction of Brentford Leisure Centre made to look like Mount Fujima.
Remember the above Combat Mantras and chant them out aloud when the Big Images and the Big Messages and the cultural Super Mart Big Deals come to change your circuitry. Chant these Mantras to your loves and your cancers, sing them to your inspirations and your madness and your dreams and your failures, your disappointments, and your visions. They will also cure warts, the palsy, and even prevent Montezuma’s revenge.
This form of Combat Healing will protect you also from another half-century of solid wooden British Arts, Media, and Entertainment, no less. And that’s worth a thanksgiving prayer or two, believe you me. These Combat Mantras are the holiest things in the universe. Why? Because they are OFF switches. And things don’t come more holy than that.”
Remember: Switching OFF is the only Prime Time Act that counts.
Thank you very much.
George Mensch.
Editorial
Editor Panzerben briefs his assault squad prior to yet another raid on the Sceptical HQ in Brentford Leisure Centre, the lair of the Brentford Polonius, the Lenin of the Sceptical Pelicans.
Colin (Bad Man) Bennett
Combat Diary HQ
Portobello Road, London
In October of the year 2004
Well Combat Viewers you will find that there is much Fortean content in this issue (we shall use the capital F from hereon, and the devil take the grammatical hindmost). We intend to become the leading Fortean site on the web in the fullest sense of the word. Not that that would be difficult, since there is nothing (least throughout the length and breadth of merry England) in print or on the web that could be called such in any sense at all. We intend to give Charles Fort his proper place as a revolutionary world-class political philosopher, and will protect him from being regarded as a collector of pickled gnomes for the chortling delight of leafy English middle-class Bohemian eccentrics.
We have been asked many times if can provide printed copies of the Combat Diaries. I am afraid that this is quite impossible, due to the cost of laser printing, collation, and postage. We have had offers from major outfits asking we are interested in selling the Alternative Fortean Times and re-forming it as a news-stand magazine. I am afraid that we have turned these offers down for many reasons. We have seen the steady deterioration of the Fortean Times after three corporations bought and sold it in turn. Frankly, it lost all character, identity and cutting edge. It still looks prettier than the Combat Diaries but that’s about all you can say for it. £4 is a lot to pay for a cosmetic experience. In any case, a sellout would mean the end of the Panzerben Team. The nucleus of the Combat Diaries consists of a group of people who are of small independent means, and they want to remain difficult, dangerous, controversial, and creatively quite mad. Meantime our e-mail is now a blur, and we hope to reach nearly a half million hits before this coming Christmas, 2004.
To this end we have this month therefore a regular Fortean feast. We have put together a wide spread of beautifully engineered belief systems. These grey-scale shades have what is commonly termed the “real” at one end in terms of the garage technomatics of the F117 Nighthawk story, and at the other extreme, we have the fantastic claims of Michael Salla. The rest of our extraordinary offerings this month all belong to those indeterminate and intermediate areas of experience examined by Charles Fort, where, in the middle of our reality scaling, beliefs arrive at the cross roads of vital experience and go into what we here call the Dressing Room.
Within this mythological control centre, the “real” is carefully constructed of performances and rehearsals of masques within masques. These are those ever-changing and unstable percentages and averages that make up the mentality of the Man on the Clapham Omnibus, so to speak. Thus is costume is adjusted and the New Script checked for its bid for 15 seconds of historical Prime Time.
Second House Saturday night at the old Glasgow Empire didn’t have anything on this.
Meantime, in reward for my many sins, the great Nick Redfern has invited me to write a monthly column for Phenomena Magazine. This means I shall have to put on a suit and tie and behave myself. But like Toad of Toad Hall, I might find this a little difficult on occasion.
Meantime, thank you all for overcoming your need to disbelieve.
The Leader
(“couldn’t lead a dog to breakfast” – overheard remark in the Combat Diaries Canteen, possibly from George Mensche)
And don’t forget to get your copy from your local magazine store:
Writer Lloyd Pye, whilst on a visit to Britain shows a Convent Garden cat person the latest copy of Phenomena magazine.
Contents of current Combat Diary 22 for October 2004
Please Press the Chapters headings for access
Chapter 1: Lee Harvey Oswald as Fortean Man Colin Bennett
Chapter 2: Charles Fort’s Book of the Damned Fort/Bennett
Chapter 3: Tesla, the Lost Wizard Marc J. Seifer
Chapter 4:
Latest UFO Reports and Encounters
Vike/Shaffer
Chapter 5: The Nazi
Extraterrestrial Connection Michael Salla
Chapter 6: Metasociology of the Digital Sphere Hans Geser
Chapter 7: The F117 Nighthawk Story Part 1 Jay Miller
Chapter 8: The Alien is Under Construction Richard Doyle
Chapter 9: Jack Ruby's Girls
Josh Alan Friedman
Chapter 10: Stephen Greer
Interview
Dolan/Greer
Chapter 11: Stanton Friedman’s
review of Kevin Randle’s book Case MJ-12.
Metatheatre: Signal to Noise Ratio by Colin Bennett
Book
Review: Eugenia Macer-Story reviews Adam Gorightly’s
The Prankster and the Conspiracy.
Classic
British Holiday Riots (1):
The Great Brentford Panic of ’04.
In which Patricia Farson reports on the recent holiday of Elmon and Siedlitz, cooks to the House of Panzerben
Before British holiday During British holiday After British holiday
Before British holiday Siedlitz sabotages the act After British holiday
Editorial Team
We are proud and pleased to announce that Phil O’Brien, the author of the novel, The Irish Israeli War has joined our Books Editorial Team. She will work with Marina “Cyber” Khan to give the latest information about the very best books of interest to all Combat Viewers. Below we show the cover of Coldplay: Look at the Stars, Phil O’Brien’s new book from Plexus, now available from Amazon and all good bookshops. For her sins, Philomena is the long-suffering wife of Panzerben.
We welcome Feral house, Paraview Books, New Paradigm Books, and the Conspiracy Journal of Tim Schwartz to the Combat Diaries of the Alternative Fortean Times. We will be updating all their products through further issues.
Marina Khan Phil O’Brien
Each month we give a selection of books we think will be of interest to Combat Viewers. We begin our list with three recently published books which fill in the techno-conspiratorial background of modern prototypal airborne forms. It is essential to have this kind of historical knowledge, rarely expressed by eternally camp media and hardly present in the education system. This is what political Forteanism is all about: penetrating the cultural advertising structure to find out who we were before most of us we were born, indeed. Here are the protean ancestors of the things seen in our skies, born moreover out of evil, destruction and savage demoniac politics.
Part of our modern tragic soul is in these fuselages and wiring diagrams and thrusts and pressures that eventually took us to the moon. In every sense the books that follow the first three publications are flesh on these old wired-in Nazi bones.
Please press the heading below to access Books Bizarre and enter a new world.
Marina and Phil
New Paradigm Books
Paraview Press
Check out Eugenia Macer-Story’s
review of Paraview’s latest publication, The Prankster and the Conspiracy,
with Foreword by Robert Anton Wilson
In Trauma Room One read the disturbing analysis of what happened
during the very first autopsy examination of President Kennedy’s
body.
