Flippy Flog #1

Hi! Flippy here! Out in my garden you can see for some distance to the south. One thing I wonder about is why, in these days of omnipresent law enforcement, no one seems willing to do anything about all the microwave towers. We know they’re not all being used for cell phones. In fact, with the level of service I’m getting (how about you?) I would say next to NONE of them are being used for cell phones. Yet there they are. What it means to me, is that most likely someone’s using them to look down into your back yard! Go on, go out there! I bet you can see one. And if you can see one, they can see you! My best friend, Sanford, says there is a hookup from his toaster to the microwave towers. Everything in his kitchen is being relayed. Never mind your computer, or the internet. We’re worried about all the wrong stuff, is what Sanford says. Down there where your bagels go, THAT’S where the real action is! Well, maybe not. But I’ll bet there’s something going on somewhere that we don’t know about, and maybe we’ll find out years from now that there’d been all this stuff that we should’ve known about and that maybe not knowing caused something to happen that has changed everything that’s ever happened since then and it all came from some little thing, like a toaster or something. So maybe Sanford’s on to something there. It’s not like they have to open your mail or anything. It’s all right there, little currents in the air. Maybe they can read your aura as well, really get into you. So what do you do? I say, go into Operation Shutdown, like Derek Bell. I mean, if you aren’t GIVEN that outfield job, do the Pirates really want you anyway? Just don’t give ‘em anything to look at, keep it under wraps, make THEM show themselves! Just use that six inches of psychological lead shielding! And when you hear sirens, hide. Maybe get behind your sofa or something.
I was reading this book, about this female Israeli secret agent. More like a resistance fighter, operating alone. But wronged, really wronged, you know, with a bitter past. And all these bullets flying about in some sandy place, big dry cliffs. So she has to give up, but resolutely, you know, in a way that it’s really some sort of victory, right? So into captivity, but her captors respect her so much (and the commanders want her, of course) but she’s so isolated in her bitterness that they can’t approach, so the respect is all they’ve got, she’s so beautiful, until finally the woman writing these books is in an auto accident and she has to stop. She buys a house in a mountain community, with a quiet, clear stream, and gets set up there, and no one knows who she is, maybe she’s never sold a single manuscript, you know? And then there’s a landslide so that she has to move, but her husband doesn’t want to because she seems to want a very basic, very conservative type of place but still it has to be over a certain number of square feet and there’s not enough money because she needs to sell the beautiful woman fighter books....it’s very confusing, really. I can see it though, can’t you?
Your Pal,
Flippy