The Blanket

The Pentagon's Secret Weapon

John Chuckman

( The following is a transcript of a recorded late-night telephone call from an anonymous source claiming high-level clearance at the Pentagon.

I cannot vouch for its accuracy, but aspects of it seem so plausible and so much in character for those now running the White House and trying to run the world that I regard it as vital enough information to bring to the public's attention. It contains a chilling tale.

It all started immediately after September 11, indeed, the very day that Bush disappeared on Air Force One to pose for ten-thousand-dollar-a-pop campaign photos of himself staring out a window somewhere over the Atlantic while calling the executive chef on board for another bag of pretzels. It was the same day Dick Cheney went into hiding at Halliburton's Secure Executive Golf Course somewhere on a banana plantation in Central America.

At the castle of the Republican Party's most important multi-billionaire donor - as it happens, an exact copy of mad King Ludwig's mountainside fantasy in Bavaria - there is an underground laboratory where the withered bits of his nasty body are kept alive in vats of bubbling biological cocktails, resembling the reddish blobs of a 1970s lava lamp. The blobs are wired to a complex of supercomputers capable of instant communication with any member of the Bush cabinet. Other vats in the same laboratory maintain bubbling bits of Ayn Rand, Walt Disney, Martin Bormann, the Shah of Iran, and J. Edgar Hoover - each tank anxiously awaiting its appointment with destiny for rebirth.

This is the world's finest private laboratory, expert in the cloning of DNA, and it received a phone call from Washington requesting immediate cooperation on a new project. Scrapings of skin taken from the president's elbow, taken by a team of surgeons treating him for a bruise sustained while falling off his chair, were being rushed by military jet to the site, immersed in liquid nitrogen, even as the call came through.

The request was to preserve the samples of the president, as an additional line of defense against terrorism, and to begin experiments with their cloning. The thinking was along the lines of a second, third, or fourth secret government being readied to step forward in case of disaster, totally defeating the expectations of any potential attacker. Depending on the success of the tests, samples from Cheney, von Rumsfeld, Ashcroft, and selected others would also be forwarded. The name of the Secretary of State Powell was conspicuously absent from the list.

Some weeks later, the Pentagon called asking for delivery of half the lab's sample, the president apparently expressing unwillingness to again have his elbow scraped. The lab was to continue its research into cloning the president, but a new, second secret project was to start immediately. Somewhere in the bowels of the Pentagon's most secret weapons laboratory, the terrorist attack had generated a revolutionary idea.

Von Rumsfeld's chief expert on weapons of mass destruction had hit upon an ingenious new concept. The president's DNA would be replicated millions of times, and bits of it would be imbedded into microscopic, synthetic spores the Pentagon had been developing for years as a vector for spreading germ warfare. These spores could then be released in bombs designed to explode harmlessly in the air over a target, creating a monstrous aerosol cloud of spores for a radius of miles from the detonation.

The synthetic spores when inhaled, swallowed, or imbedded in the flesh of humans were readily taken up by the body, and the genetic material they contained would spread in the fashion of a virus. Within a matter of weeks, people exposed to these spores would begin showing characteristics of the president.

Explode enough of these bombs over any country whose behavior was unacceptable, and, without killing a single person, you could create in a matter of weeks an army of Bush-clones. Smiling, bland zombies barely capable of earning a living on their own, conspicuously displaying an unquestioning obedience to orders.

Any country thus exposed would be the Pentagon's for the taking. Clearly, America's dear boys in uniform would never again have to be put in harm's way. They could just peacefully pursue their mail-order degrees in hospitality management and refrigeration-repair technology while relaxing with hot pizza and Playboy from the PX and watching Pat Robertson on cable TV in off hours.

It was a backwater politician's dream come true, pampering the boys in the service, while conquering the world.

Indeed, the thinking ran that it would not be necessary ever again to occupy a country. Signals could be sent directly to the leaders of any successfully-treated country from the bubbling tank or from the Halliburton Secure Golf Course with instructions on just how to conduct their affairs. It was the fondest hope of the experimenters that this particular characteristic, pliability to taking orders from wealthy father figures, would be among those successfully transplanted by the spores.

If so, the possibilities were endless. America could avoid any future contamination of its precious boys to the devious ways of foreigners. Perhaps, the United States could stop issuing passports altogether, an idea much favored in Texas, and close all of its embassies abroad. With benign, pliable populations spreading across the planet, everything could be run from the tanks or the plantation.

There are concerns that certain transmitted characteristics might prove a problem. Among these is the expected severe dumbing-down of populations and their inability to articulate clear language, but there is hope that actual field tests of the spores will reveal ways to manage these difficulties. American politicians who know about the secret project actually are enthusiastic about this possible outcome so that no one has to listen to a "pukey fur'ener" again.

The Pentagon believes, at least initially, that the spores must be handled with extreme caution, comparable to that used in the handling of thermo-nuclear weapons. Their accidental release on home turf could pose a grave threat, considering the country is in so dumbed-down a state already. Again though, politicians in on the project regard this possibility as less a threat than a promising new horizon. The views from the vat on this point are not yet known.

John Chuckman encourages your comments:








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A free society is one where it is safe to be unpopular.
- Adlai Stevenson

Index: Current Articles

11 August 2002


Other Articles From This Issue:


Class War
Newton Emerson


Nationalist Euphoria - Unionist Despondency
Billy Mitchell


Silent But Lethal

Anthony McIntyre


Democratise Democracy
Davy Carlin


The Pentagon's Secret Weapon
John Chuckman


8 August 2002


Billy Mitchell


Frances McAuley - Resisting the Loyal Sons of Hate

Anthony McIntyre


Intense Winters
Miguel Castells Artetxe


Modernising Republicanism
Davy Carlin


Another Death in Turkish Prison Hunger Strike




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