Neutral Spirits

Loyal readers will note that some time has passed since my last batch of postings. But I really have an excuse this time that doesn’t involve my laziness. Just read below and I think you’ll get a sense of the shit I’ve been doing and why blogs have to go on the back burner. This will all seem like bullshit, but I guarantee this all happened (honest injun). All the following documents have yet to be declassified, so keep it under your hat.

The KC Report.

Sir,

It’s over two weeks since I have been able to report. I have infiltrated the designated group. They clearly are the future leaders of industry, politicians, those in the know. They are young and good looking. They jog. I smoke. I wear white pants and paisley ties. They wear khakis and stripped ties. They compliment me on my tattoos and clothing, yet they seem unfamiliar with the style (note: tell Deborah in the costume department to investigate this further). When they jog by, they affably grin at me. I nod. And smoke. The disguise unit must really be performing well since they believe me to be near their approximate age. Little do they know I was born in the same decade as their parents. I accidently let my age slip. Rookie mistake. Yet they didn’t believe me so I think my cover is secure. Walking around town today to get a sense of the environment. I was stopped by some derelict bridge dwellers sipping his malt liquor. I assumed he wanted money. Here’s the dialog: He: “Hey.” Me: “What is it?” Him: “I was just wondering if you’re okay. You look sad.” Me: “That’s how I always look.” I’m starting to get paranoid. I think they may be on to me. I see a leaf on the sidewalk and think it’s a dead bird. Or that it’s concealing a dead bird. I twist my ankles avoiding them. And an old lady laughs at me. Sir, I have sent my last seven reports to the given address and I haven’t received any responses. I am beginning to believe that the relocation initiative may have been enacted and I have yet to be apprised of the situation. I am cut off. I haven’t heard from Central in over a month. I am beginning to feel that I am on my own. If someone receives this document, please establish the extraction protocol. I am alone.

Here

Lee Moses-Time and Place

The KC Report Cont’d

Sir,

I have now made contact with several other outsiders who seem to also be on the periphery of the goings on in this organization. One is clearly another agent. A Swede again. It’s fortuitous that our paths cross at this moment. We can both speak of the old times and old assignments. We recognize that we are both withered. At the end of it in many senses. It’s established a camaraderie that’s atypical in this line of work. We laugh at the expense of the objective’s naivety. And also our own failures. I am not sure if, at this point, this mission will succeed. Sorry to break protocol Sir, but, please don’t make me put a bullet in this guy like last time.

Here

Max Roach-M'Boom

Return to Base (in transit)

Sir,

Conflicts have surrounded this assignment. Namely, the mode of transportation. Yesterday, I flew from Kansas City back to base in Chicago. Today, I have flown from Chicago to Nashville to Austin to Houston and finally arrived in Los Angeles. There was a baby in the airport who I am pretty sure it must have been an op. Or at least a stress test. The continual cries reminded me of tier two training. Maybe it was sent by the agency or by other sources, but I can tell there was something off about the whole thing. Maybe the baby was bugged. Maybe the baby was the bug. I didn’t have time to consider the options and just stepped on it’s head. I didn’t see the wires but I am certain a full body profile scan will reveal abnormal activities. I have collected samples and await the results.

Here

Skald-Voices of Thula

The LA Report

Sir,

I haven’t been here before. I never wanted to be here before. Now that I am here I enjoy it and feel conflicted. I feel instantly false. It is a true pleasure dome in some Coleridgean sense. Exotic trees, things that are that shouldn’t are. I feel like those invisible man science kits someone has put together but the pin barely hold it all in place and the pancreas is still in the box. But I now have a tan. An instant tan. I hate tans. Yet I have one now. There’s a certain allure that is compelling. It is a siren song calling me towards this life of pleasure and ease. Midwest roots run deep and it’s something that simply registers as false. Good new though sir, I have amassed a small faction of other outsiders(as previously reported) that seem to be on a similar path and we continue to grow. We have bonded over age and smoking and general despondency with all outside ourselves. We are the kooks. Somehow, while everyone else is busy we have entrenched ourselves into daily lives.

Here

Günter Maas-Klangbilder

The LA Report Con’t

Sir,

I am beginning to feel that perhaps this cover is running too deep. I work twelve hours a day and then retire to my cubicle to work for five more hours. I can barely finish my reports, which accounts for my infrequencies. I need more time. I saw the ocean the other day but it didn’t see me. A girl winked at me but I haven’t been briefed in weeks now and I cannot tell what the signals are anymore. I still cannot tell if the comsat link correctly transmits these messages or if they are entering a void. But something is certainly afoot here. I cannot pinpoint it at the moment but all of my instincts tell me there is something that I am not yet seeing. And once I see what it is that I cannot yet see then I might not be able to…well. I have to wait and see what is to be seen before I report on it. Four more weeks should give me time to discover what it is that is at the core of it all.

Here