Digital Underground - uXu - Underground eXperts United #uxu-423

### ### ### ### ### #### ### ### ### #### ### ### ##### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ##### ### ### ########## ### ### ########## ### ### ### ### Underground eXperts United Presents... ####### ## ## ####### # # ## ## ####### ####### ## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ## # ## #### ## ## #### # # ####### ####### #### ## ## ## ## ##### ## ## # ## ## ## ####### ####### # # ## ####### ####### [ Modus Operandi ] [ By The GNN ] ____________________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________________ MODUS OPERANDI by THE GNN/DualCrew-Shining/uXu 16 June 1988. Me and Bill plotted the route while drinking beer at a sleazy bar downtown. God, we were pretty drunk that evening. Yet we managed to plan the whole operation, from beginning to the end. The next day we stole a car and hit the road. 17-24 June 1988. It never seize to amaze me how much energy God managed to squeeze into little children. Bill operated the camera at all times. I covered his back the best I could. If someone spotted us, it would all be ruined. As far as I could tell, no one ever did. 25 June 1988. We better lay low for a while. We dumped the car far away and took the train back home. I examined the tapes as soon as we got back. Wonderful material. 28 July 1988. Bill is restless and wants to move on with the plan as quick as possible. I keep tell him that we must keep calm. If we rush things it will all fail. Bill knows he does not have to wait forever. The summer is soon over, and we have not got much time. I have edited the material we collected. The tape is around fourteen seconds, containing seven sequences. Bill has begun to work with the explosives. 4 August 1988. We shot the last sequence today. Early in the morning, we buried the bomb deep down in the sandbox. We had to work as fast as possible. This was the grand finale. The whole operation would fail if we fucked this up. But we did not. The body plunged all over the playing field, yet we could cover up all tracks in less than a minute. No one saw us. We cheered as we watched the film. I edited the whole tape the same evening. The movie is ready. Sixteen seconds, eight sequences. But now we must lay low for quite some time. We have all the time in the world. 5 August 1988. Media is silent concerning the explosion. Excellent. 7 August 1988. Still silent. We made it. No one ever noticed. 10 July 1989. Time to hit the road again. We quickly found a car. Of course, the stupid son of a bitch had stashed the map from last summer at a 'very safe place', which now turned out to be so safe that he did not even found it himself. Luckily for us, we got me and my shock-proof memory. I perfectly remembered all the kindergartens we visited before. Since Bill almost put the whole adventure to an end due to his... way of being... I let him take all the risks this time. He had to hide all the explosives himself. I observed him dig in the sandboxes, safely hidden in the car. We managed to cover all places in one single night, all according to the plan. The parcel is loaded. Soon, it will be time for a silent movie. 11 July 1989. Upset parents, crying children (wonder why, they don't even know what is going on) and assuring cops. I think all news channels covered the story of the mad bomber today. Mad bomber? The police is well aware of the fact that none of the bombs could ever detonate. No one else is. As we expected, they will keep this little detail secret until the madmen are apprehended. But just you wait! The ace has yet not been drawn from the deck. But it soon will be. 14 July 1989. The hype concerning the mad bomber is given less and less time on the news. As a result, the parcel has left the building. Bill is going paranoid. But I know he will not do anything stupid. 15 July 1989. Television, the drug of the nation. My goodness! Sure, I knew the television channel in question had no pride at all, but what they showed today really hit the bottom. I thought they would contact the police first, then show the nation our eight sequences (well, nine if you count the last part). But they did not. They broadcast the whole tape the very minute it arrived to their studio. If one is to believe the news, the nation is in a state of shock. No children must go to school tomorrow. The police will catch the madmen. Blah blah blah. What bothers me is that no one is interested in the message. Except for that annoying detail, everything follows the plan. 16 July 1989. Well, ALMOST everything is following the plan. The message is not given enough time on television. Everybody whines about children. My children, our children, blah blah. What about THEIR children? THEIR children? 20 July 1989. Occasional reports concerning the investigation. The truth has not been revealed. No one debates the main issue. Something has to be done. I have not told Bill what I am up to. He wants to forget the whole thing. 21 July 1989. I assured Bill that I would not turn him in. He kept on moaning about fingerprints, DNA-tests, possible witnesses and not wanting to spend the rest of his life in jail. He really acts like a child sometimes. Eventually he agreed to let me do what I wanted to. I called the police and turned myself in. They picked me up half an hour later. No excessive force were used. They knew I would not fight back. 22 July 1989. I have no clue what they say about me on television since I am in custody. Never mind. They interrogated me for six hours. "Are you a terrorist?" they kept on asking me. As you surely understand, I said, that is a relative matter. No one was angry even though I talked back. The police were aware of the truth. I was not shown the tape, but they handed me a printout of the scenes and asked me if I was the one responsible. 0-2.3 seconds; children playing in sandbox; location unknown 2.3-4.5 seconds; children playing in sandbox; location identified 4.5-6.6 seconds; children playing in sandbox; location identified 6.6-9.1 seconds; children playing in sandbox; location identified 9.1-11.7 seconds; children playing in sandbox; location unknown 11.7-13.1 seconds; children playing in sandbox; location unknown 13.1-14.2 seconds; children playing in sandbox; location identified 14.2-16.4 seconds; doll blown to pieces in sandbox; location identified 16.4-30.0 seconds; text 23 July 1989. Since I explained everything (Bill's part excluded) they just questioned me for two days. They tried to get me to confess that the booby traps I scattered in sandboxes all over the country were NOT constructed in such a way that they could not be set off. I wonder why? Do they want me to be a true terrorist? After three hours they told me that they believed me. Their technicians examined the traps, concluding that they could not explode. It does not matter, they say. It is the thought that counts. I completely agree, but I believe our thoughts differ in many respects. 23 August 1989. My attorney opened the trial by reading the message given in the very last part of the tape. He ought to be an actor. I have never seen a guy almost cry as he slowly read the words: "Every day thousands of children are killed all over the world thanks to hellish machines constructed by the weapon industry in our country. If this is good, if this is right, no one can deny us the right to try some of these weapons on our own children. This we will do, and you cannot complain, since you accept the killing abroad by remaining silent, no matter the horrors you observe every day on TV." 25 August 1989. They released me this afternoon. I was given a $30.000 fine and a seven-year conditional sentence. If I had been convicted before, the judge would have thrown me in jail at once. Promise me you will be a good boy in the future, he said. I could not really make that promise, I replied, since I really think I am a truly good boy already. The whole court gave me a look that could kill. I think they wished they could undo the verdict. I had almost forgotten the power of media. I seemed like I was some kind of national hero, despite the fact that I was a form of terrorist. Seems like the truth wins now and then. A crowd had gathered outside court. They cheered and applauded. I think I saw Bill somewhere in the middle. Reporters asked me a lot of strange questions. My parents told them to fuck off. We went home in dad's car. Mom and dad explained that they surely were not proud of me. One day, I would understand what I had done, they said. Hell, I understand now. I understand many things. Never underestimate the intelligence and wit of a sixteen year old prankster. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- uXu #423 Underground eXperts United 1998 uXu #423 Call RIPCO ][ -> +1-773-528-5020 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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