DESTINATION NOWHERE: COUCH POTATO ON THE GHOST PLANET

My opinion (finally) on the secret services is that there are two kinds: There are the kind that are actively wicked and they are exactly but EXACTLY like SPECTRE in the Bond saga. Using every available means at their disposal, from mind control to media control, from terrorism to martial law, they're hard at work trying to turn the American Dream into a nightmare, the free world into a prison camp. They are, I shit thee not, controlled by hypnotic commands which emanate from the graves of Adolf Hitler and Hirohito. After a rough day of enslaving the globe, they may usually be observed at the local tavern, alternating shots of sake an' schnapps and harmonizing on "Those were the Days My Friend" and "Tomorrow Belongs To Me."

Then there's the "good" secret service. These are the innocent bystanders who sit there after yet another hard day of sitting there, puffing on and playing with their pipes, congratulating themselves for living one more day in ever worsening conditions they had no hand in creating no sir not me no sir, singing funny little songs, dozing contentedly, smiling serenely, and generally living in a state of what can only be called Divinely Inspired Detachment from it all. Why, there's one right over there. What's that? Why he's singing a song, I think it's a religious song. Let's listen: "JAH, JAH, RASTAFARI" he sings, clapping his hands together like a small child. He doesn't know what the song means, but he once heard it on a recording of field hand music or slave songs or something, and he has chanted it ever since, he says, because it makes him feel secure, like nothing matters very much in the long run. He asks us in a beseeching tone if we understand and if we have any drugs. We tell him that yes, we understand but that now we must be leaving Shangri-la as the Chinese soldiers he was hired to protect us from are telling us to "Board the train please" before they "shock with electric cattle prod." "Ouch, OUCH! OK, OK!" We get on board the train, which will take us to a field where we will work today. Though we don't actually get paid for our labor, they let us sing all we want. As the train departs, the nice secret service man skips off to rejoin his co-workers , who laugh good-naturedly as all around them every goal of world domination the Nazis ever dreamed of is reached and then surpassed. These good, brave men and women of our proud Military Industrial Complex only appear to be asleep. In reality they are in a deep, trance-like meditation. Their chief mantra is "Yes, We're Well Aware Of That."

They are not, I repeat NOT to be confused with the "Bad Guys." There is a world of difference between the two. One side is active, the other side is passive. One side is as serious as the grave, and the other is very light-hearted and humorous indeed. One side has a list of very definite goals and for every minute that goes by, not one but many steps are being taken toward the realization of those goals. The other side has no real goals other than a kind of "every man for himself" survival at whatever level of well-being they can manage and circumstances allow him to keep. One side has a catchy slogan: "Steal All. Destroy All. Kill All." The other side also has a slogan, equally catchy: "Whatever... whuh...? Huh?... Turn off the light, stop hoggin' the pillow... zzzzzzz."

Both sides of the so-called security business are best represented by two Marvel comic book characters: Galactus and The Watcher. Galactus, you will recall, was all about sucking life out of the planet Earth using, among other things, numerous diabolical machines. The Watcher, of course, only had one "power," if you can call it that. He WATCHED thangs. Sort of like a cosmic couch potato. "Hey Watcher! What're ya watchin'?" "Galactus." "What's he doin'?" "Eatin' the planet." "Anything I can get you? Chips? Beer? A TV Guide?"

Spy this, Spy that... They even got a new movie out with the unfortunate title Spy Kids. As well as a new non-Bond spy flick starring Pierce Brosnan, the current James Bond. You just can't have enough "groovy spy" flicks. That's where the U.S. and England "stand" in 2001. Our Latino brothers and sisters are just as bad or worse - for awhile recently the big Hispanic radio station here in the northeast had a phrase they used to broadcast every hour. A guy with a real basso profundo voice would boom out: "SIEMPRE PRESENTE!!" Which means "always present." Que? Who or what is "always present?" As for Spanish TV, let's see, they've got a show called Control and one called Sueños (dreams).

I'm not saying a word. Not one word.