And the age-old dream of a selective pestilence is now within the reach of modern technology . .. London Times ...
Ethnic weapons that could wipe out one race and leave another unharmed could soon be developed. A leading geneticist Carl Larson said icily: ‘Ethnic weapons would employ differences in human genetic configuration to make genetic variations to make genocide particularly attractive as a form of war.’ Writing in the US Army Military Review Larson argues enzyme levels can vary according to race... The absence of certain enzymes can cause death. Enzyme deficiencies could be exploited by chemical warfare. ‘It will probably be possible to develop a chemical which will act as an enzyme inhibitor... Say you find an enzyme inhibitor to which ninety percent of all Europeans would be vulnerable which effects only ten percent of Africans. .. Since the inhibitor could tell friend from foe, no matter how intermingled it is, it would be the superselective military weapon, that all military thinkers dream of. Larson admitted more genetic research is needed before ethnic weapons become a practical reality.’
Well that item is over ten years old... Selection could be carried much further even to the point of annihilation that effects only people with certain traits of character, since character traits indicate metabolic variations. If anyone is habitually angry and antagonistic this effects his entire metabolism. The study of psychosomatic medicine has repeatedly shown that patients with certain character traits are more subject to certain illnesses.
It seems then that War, Plague and Famine are merging. What about the last horseman: Death? Can death maintain a separation from the means by which death is produced? From the horsemen who do the job? Or is the union between death and the instructions of death about to be consummated? ... There are those who think so.
Psychosomatic medicine has demonstrated that patients with certain character structures are more disposed to certain illness. We can go further: characterological and metabolic alteration can be induced by environmental pressures. It is not difficult to pressure large numbers of potential or actual enemies towards a way of life that will bring them within the range of our biological agent. Forced urbanization was the CIA policy in Vietnam that was implemented by Bill Colby, concentrating population in urban centers. Diet and the whole psychological and physical environment underwent specific alterations. And the disease agent is provided with receptive hosts in convenient proximity.
The Herald Tribune, June 1970: ‘The Synthetic Gene Revolution.’ Dr Har Khorana at the University of Wisconsin has created an artificial gene. News that may rank with the splitting of the atom as a milestone in our control — or is it lack of control? — of the physical universe . ..
‘It is the beginning of the end.’ This was the reaction to the news from the science attache at one of Washington’s major embassies. ‘If you can make genes, you can eventually make new viruses, for which there is no cure. Any little country with a good biochemist could make such biological weapons. It would take only a small laboratory. If it can be done, someone will do it. To be sure it is almost science fiction. Unfortunately science fiction has a bad habit of coming true.’
The virus for which there is no cure could be death itself. The genetic message of Death ...
The gentlemen riders have no meaning outside a human context; they are in fact human inventions. So let us examine the human context. The first thing that would impress a visitor from outer space is the tremendous inexplicable gap between potential and performance. No species that isn’t fundamentally flawed could be this stupid this consistently. Consider the human organism as an artifact. Comparative evaluation will show us where this artifact is, what is wrong with it, and how far it has to go. Look at the first powered planes, and compare with a modern transport or fighter plane. Even if we were transported back to 1910 we could still see that this artifact is in a rudimentary stage. Riddled with flaws, it must improve or disappear.
Death is that which, when it occupies you, you are dead. Death is eviction from the earth body. Death is an unbearable presence. People die to avoid it... Death can be simply defined as what kills you... We all have a photographic memory of the past... This has been recovered under hypnosis and with the increased use of tape recorders there are more and more cross checks on the accuracy of the materials recovered. And messages purporting to come from some dead VIP through a medium could be checked for voice prints. Quite as definitive as finger prints for purposes of identification. Do we have on some deep biological level a memory of the future as well? Do we all know when and how we will die? A disquieting thought and even more disquieting could be a virus or a microwave that releases the death message to zero in on Death, directed by some molecular affinity to release your death instructions. The virus or wave simply gets keys in the latent death message. It is interesting that knowledge of such breath-taking implications may be buried in Top Secret Files. If we have a virus with an affinity for death, it might just be a good place to start looking for our ancient antagonist, Death itself. Some ocultists say the death center is located in the back of the neck. Perhaps we would become a bit more precise about the exact meaning of this death center. Is this where our final instructions, the last telegrams are written out and the death warrant officially signed? Interesting questions .. . And I fear they are beyond the scope of those who think of death as a company cop.
The most crassly utilitarian research may turn up the most spectacular theoretical conclusions and applications in other areas.
I am not concerned here with the history of germ warfare but with the outer frontiers of biological and chemical weaponry at the present time.
The processes set in inexorable motion by the industrial revolution with its total commitment to quantity and quantitave criterion, are just beginning to reveal themselves as the death trap they always were. At a time when the hope of the human race lies in space exploration and above all in biological mutation, we are threatened by a Moron Majority committed to enforcing their stupid bestial, bigoted opinions on everybody else. To such people the very thought of mutation is the ultimate sacrifice. These are the guard dogs that will keep the human race in neoteny until this experiment is quietly buried ... until it disappears. That is what we are facing here. An extermination program. All the basic moves thought out in the turn of the century. Topheavy urban populations that depend for their existence on the industrial machine continuing to function on the vast unseen bureaucracy that provides food and services. What form could rebellion take if the communists took over the country they would either have to keep the present bureaucracy in place or provide a new one to fill exactly the same functions. All paths are blocked by numbers, by more and more of what we have too much of already. This means that the human stock, the human product, far from reaching a point where it could be possible to fulfill our destiny in space is inevitably declining and devalued just as the currency is devalued. Like the army — more and more to buy less and less. What we are dealing with is the virus mechanism of replication. The human products that best lend themselves to replication have a higher potential for survival in a deadly environment. That assures the survival of the species. Jerry Falwell and his Moral Majority being a case in point: a majority that prides itself on its unthinking adherence to certain rigid standards that have nothing to do with the survival of the species. This product produces and consumes. The full force of mass production capitalism is behind it like a vast reservoir... It votes. It is tirelessly devoted to promulgating its image and forcing that image on everyone else. Now faced by this deadly process the history of our planet is a history of idiocy highlighted by a few morons who stand out as comparative geniuses. Today no supergenius has achieved what might be called normal intelligence in terms of the potential functioning of the human artifact.
We see now that the gentlemen riders are eliminating each other. Famine is after all very old hat and very slow, but the chief of the Death Division has some explicit ideas . . . He has that awful shy and cute duck manner .. . ‘Well you see we??
?ve been you might say streamlining the department to uh consider famine in the very widest sense of the word. .. death deficiency. .. This of course can be a lack of some basic atmospheric necessity such as oxygen...’ The press start to gag and show signs of asphyxia ... The chief turns a button’... and so you see it can also refer to what we might call spiritual famine. Faced by a prospect of Levittown houses built to the sky the target collapses and dies for the simple lack of any reason not to. No do not underestimate us, gentlemen ... Are you bored with breathing? An air famine would amuse you? I think tot really ... But of course we’re taking war out of that horrible nuclear thing so bad for our image, my dear so its simply Plague and death getting together, famine and war standing by.’
The Great Glut
Many ecologists, including Allen Ginsberg, have questioned the long-range- wisdom of dumping sewage into our lakes and rivers and seas, killing the fish or rendering them unfit for our ever-growing consumption. Cousteau sounded a word of warning: ‘The seas are already forty percent dead.’ Allen suggests that we simply reverse directions and channel our shit back to the soil.
Now to put this fruitful concept into operation. All the toilets of New York City empty into vats where the rich substance is reduced to liquid form and piped into relays of tanker trucks to be conveyed to the hinterlands, where the eager farmer waits. Every block has a dog shitting area to facilitate the collection of dog shit which would otherwise foul the barren pavements and asphalt. All recyclable garbage is collected and poured into the vats. Patriotic Boy Scouts organize vast shit hikes to fertilize the truck farms surrounding the cities.
A further step is obvious. The human body makes the best fertilizer that can be got. So corpses are collected and fed into the vats to be processed with the shit and garbage and returned to the soil. Posters throughout the city admonish the citizen: ‘GIVE IT BACK TO MOTHER EARTH.’ Stern-faced farmers point to the passerby: ‘WE NEED YOU.’ Soon a funeral is an ecological outrage as unpopular as a fur coat. The hinterland achieves a fertility unknown in the history of mankind. Vast vegetables pile up in the markets — potatoes as big as watermelons, carrots six feet long, artichokes the size of washtubs. And the hogs fed on the soft mushy corn reach a weight of two tons, wallowing in their shit, too fat to move. You can cut the soft lardy flesh with a fork.
In fact all this food still smells of the shit and corpses it is made of, as if the glutted land cannot transmute the superabundance of nutrients which seep into the vegetables and the hogs, the chickens big as ostriches, the rhinoceros-size steers. The people fed on this food are bloated and stink of carrion and sewage, belching coal gas. Many of them are confined by their weight to hydraulic wheelchairs, with receptacles for shit which are emptied into containers provided on every block like mail boxes.
The cities are dying of surfeit. Some of the young people refuse to eat the disgusting vegetables swollen with loathsome ichors and the soft greasy stinking meat, which they execrate as ‘fit only for the consumption of underprivileged vultures.’ They take refuge in remote barren regions where the soil is too poor to qualify for the bounteous urban overflow. Monstrous plant forms evolve in the plains of Kansas, Iowa, Illinois, Oklahoma and Texas, man-eating plants fed on rendered corpse juice, to be in turn ploughed under by combines of tractors manned by farmers in gas masks. The end product is an unpopulated jungle; primeval swamps, vines and firs slowly grow over the dying cities. Only the sparse populations of the poor soil areas survive the Great Glut, which subsides over the years into virgin forest and untouched jungles of teeming fertility swarming with animal and insect and vegetable life. Ecology has won by a glut.
POP and the Herolds
I mentioned recently a super painkiller now under development: P.O.P., Pituitary Opioid Peptide. POP. This morphine-like substance extracted from the pituitary glands of cattle is fifty times stronger than morphine as a painkiller, and non-habit-forming. You see the implications: Non-habit-forming, no side effects like constipation and loss of sexual energy, and fifty times the strength of morphine, twenty-five times that of heroin. So why should anyone ever have to say ‘I’m hurting’?
The medical profession tried desperately to throw a block in and keep it on prescription, but mobs poured out of the ghettoes and the suburbs screaming ‘Death to the RX profiteers!’ I figured to get in on the ground floor of this good thing.
You can see the complete obliteration of the whole Protestant ethic: ‘You gotta pay for pleasure with suffering.’ But here it was in a syringe, one pop lasts a week. And think of all the subliminal pain we carry about all the time, not only physical but psychic: the fear, the depression, the boredom and dreariness, all gone, just like that — POP!
Now fear needs a reservoir of pain to draw on, and that reservoir is suddenly cut. No one needs to drink or smoke any more, they don’t have anything they need to forget about or escape from... POP ... Gotta be a catch somewhere. But is there a catch? The usage of this divine substance would allow for a much more modest living standard. When you are feeling no pain you don’t need cars and TVs and luxurious overheated quarters. A bare cubicle and the simplest food will suffice. The whole human equation of pleasure and pain, the struggle to achieve pleasure or at least comfort and the even stronger necessity of avoiding pain and discomfort, has been rendered obsolete. War and crime disappear. Why fight when you have it made? Why steal when your needs are so simple and easily satisfied? Pop will take care of you. Pop will cover you in a warm blanket. Pop will supply all your needs. End of the human rat race — POP.
If you find it — as I do — difficult to conceive of a painkilling drug that is not habit-forming, here is another script:
‘Well, Doctor?’ asked a highly-placed narcotics official.
‘The drug is not heroin. It’s an organic compound with a gold base. Probably synthesized from a drug similar to bannisteria caapi!
‘One of the psychedelics?’
‘Undoubtedly it has psychedelic properties. At the same time it is a cell-blanketing agent, like morphine and heroin, but much more potent. To put it simply for a layman, its psychedelic properties expose more area to blanket.’
‘It is a habit-forming drug?’
‘It is indeed. Thirty times more habit-forming than heroin, and in consequence the withdrawal symptoms are proportionately more drastic. Animals given one injection of this drag die in convulsions if the drug is withheld beyond eight hours even though industrial doses of heroin are administered. Capture for such an addict means death in literally inconceivable agony, since the drug is an inconceivable painkiller. It is also a retroactive painkiller, wiping out all past reservoirs of pain and consequently fear as well. These Herolds have only one fear: withdrawal. Owing to the drug’s psychedelic properties, the addicts are in telepathic communication. They go armed at all times. The Herolds will not be taken alive.’
‘But who is distributing this hellish stuff?’
‘That’s your department. My guess is it leaked from some top secret project — whether American, Russian, Chinese or French does not matter at this point. Point is, these addicts have a vital necessity to communicate their addiction as a matter of survival. Remember that only one exposure establishes lifelong addiction. They could put it in milk, soft drinks, candy bars, or addict whole populations with aerosol bombs.’
‘My God.’ The high narc steps to a window. He needs a breath of fresh air. ‘Of course it’s the Commies’ he thinks. ‘The fiends . ..’ He flushes with rage. Then he feels a little stab of pain and looks down to see a dart embedded in his stomach. It must have come from across the street. His flush fades to a gray-green pallor as a cool blue frequency fixes him right to metal. Feels so good that feeling, he could just swim in it forever and ever. And a little cold voice in his brain is telling him what to do. He turns towards the doctor, the dart concealed in his hand, and jabs the dart into the doctor’s arms. The doctor smiles.
‘That wasn’t necessary, except as a demonstration of your loya
lty to our cause. You see, I became addicted during my analysis of the drag. I think we are now ready for that emergency meeting with the President and all the top brass. If you want something done, go right to the top. Within an hour, Air Force planes will blanket America with aerosol bombs. Then these States will be truly united.
‘This drug is only the beginning. Soon we will have drugs a hundred, two hundred times stronger than heroin. First America, then the world ... a world without pain and without fear, working shoulder to shoulder to produce the perfect product.’
Mind War
Earlier I have suggested that the CIA, the Russians, and the Chinese have all set up top secret centers to study and apply psychic techniques to political ends. Those of you who have read Psychic Discoveries Behind the Iron Curtain will infer that the Russians are ahead of us.