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[Fwd: Speakers at PorcFest 2005!]

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  • Tim Condon
    * REMEMBER... The Free State Project s* * Second Annual Porcupine Freedom Festival* * is happening on* * Saturday, July 23, 2005, thru Sunday, July
    Message 1 of 1 , Apr 5 8:05 AM
      The Free State Project's*
      * Second Annual Porcupine Freedom Festival*
      * is happening on*
      * Saturday, July 23, 2005, thru Sunday, July 31, 2005 *
      * at*
      * Rogers Campground & Motel, Lancaster, New Hampshire*
      *4/3/05: PORCFEST SPAM #3


      First things first: This week's PFS is going out to a LOT of
      new email lists and a LOT of new people. The First Commandment is
      PorcFest Spam is...send it along to other people you know who love
      liberty. The reason the PFS job is commissioned is because the
      Free State Project doesn't have any money. So guerrilla marketing
      is the order of the day. Spead it around. And for those of you who
      haven't seen the first two PorcFest Spams (or the first two
      chapters of Supercharged Solitons, a novel of the future about
      America and the Free State), you can catch them all online at

      And of course for those of you who don't want to be on the PFS
      list, just reply and save "remove," and I'll take you off (but
      you'll be missing to good stuff about the upcoming PorcFest!).

      SPEAKERS? We have several confirmed:

      2004 National Libertarian Party Presidential candidate Michael
      Badnarik (himself a committed Porcupine) will be speaking, no
      doubt about his experiences running for President, the
      Constitution (sorely under attack), and other matters for which he
      is eminently qualified.

      Also speaking will be the founder and president of the
      Coalition of New Hampshire Taxpayers (CNHT), Ed Naile (who also
      gave a great talk to the assembled Porcupines at the 2004
      PorcFest). Take a look at the excellent CNHT web site at
      http://www.cnht.org/. Ed said he'll be talking about the CNHT,
      "insider politics," handling the press, and taxpayer movements all
      over the Free State. Ed, by the way, led a protest on April 1st at
      Dartmouth University: If the students want to vote in New
      Hampshire elections, he reasoned, then New Hampshirites should
      have the right to vote in the Dartmouth Trustees elections!

      Then there's Dr. Jason Sorens, the founder of the Free State
      Project and ne plus ultra of Porcupinedom. Caught at home, I asked
      him what he wanted to talk about. After hemming and hawing a
      little, he said the FSP leadership would probably be conferring on
      the subject collectively (please! not to mention that word!). But
      he did allow as how "we really need to talk about where we've been
      as a movement, where we are now, and where we're going." Sounds
      like something every Porcupine is going to want to hear about.

      Amanda Phillips, the FSP President and tireless agitator for
      migrating Porcupines, will also speak. But I couldn't catch her
      before this PFS went out. She'll doubtless get back to me by next
      week. I'll keep you all in the loop.

      Next week I want to talk about a specific happening at the
      PorcFest, the Mock Town Meeting. Have you ever wondered how a New
      England town meeting really works? Mary Gere, a member of the town
      of Unity's Board of Selectmen for 8 years, is setting up just
      that. I understand that already some of the selectmen in Unity are
      lining up to be spectators, so they can heckle the "stand-in
      selectmen." I'll be talking to Mary this week, and will clue
      everyone in to exactly what kind of learning process you can
      expect on Thursday afternoon, July 28th, in the town of Unity.
      This is a must-not-miss opportunity to figure out exactly how
      town-level democracy really works!


      1. You need to be a part of it! For all information about the
      PorcFest 2005, plus to find out how you and your family can take
      part, see www.freestateproject.org/festival. Join with us--every
      one of you--in both attending and helping to publicize the 2nd
      Annual Free State Project Porcupine Freedom Festival...aka the
      "PorcFest 2005."

      2. Forward this email to your own email lists. We all have
      lists of friends, family, and freedom-lovers we know, and they
      should all have the opportunity to plan on attending PorcFest
      2005. So when you receive this "PorcFest spam," pass it on!

      3. In 2004 the We'll Be There List topped out at about 177,
      and over 300 people attended over the course of the 2004 PorcFest.
      Today there are already 183 on the 2005 List, and we're still
      months away!) Check out who's already signed up at
      then add yourself to the list.

      4. Lodging and accommodations at the Porc Fest: Here's
      everything you need to know about the Lancaster, NH campground and
      motel where the PorcFest will be held, as well as other local
      lodging: http://www.freestateproject.org/news/festival/lodging.php.

      5. PorcFest 2005 is going to be extraordinary. How do we
      know? Because PorcFest 2004 was a stupendous success. Don't
      believe me? Check it out!

      6. If you have any questions, email Varrin Swearingen, the
      "PFC" this year ("Porc Fest Czar") at varrin@...,
      or me, Tim Condon, at tim@... (813-251-2626). Many
      people are helping put this incredible gathering together, but we
      need you too. You canhelp out by joining our "planning email list"
      at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/porcfest2005.


      (See You At The Porc Fest!)

      /SUPERCHARGED SOLITONS, Chapter 3, By Tim Condon/

      / Frank Bennett heard the voice of the woman he loved,
      his wife Linda, on the phone. "Hi Baby. Wake you up?"/

      / He could hear her shifting in the bed, and visualized her
      smooth perfect body as she rolled over to peer at the low-light
      LCD clock by their bed. "Hmm-m-m." She yawned into the telephone.
      "Hell no," she murmured sarcastically. "You know I stay up till
      3:00 a.m. every morning. I just love it."/

      / Bennett laughed, a low private chuckle. "Sorry. I just wanted
      you to know I'm was leaving now; I'll be home in about a half hour."/

      / She was waking up now. "Do be careful, honey. It's late. The

      / "Not to worry," he responded. "When I get there I'll going to
      kiss you right on the lips."/

      / A low chuckle issued from her, slightly distorted by the
      telephone receiver. "Which lips?"/

      / It was Bennett's turn to laugh. "Naughty, naughty, you have a
      dirty little mind," he said with a lewd overtone. "In the
      meantime, watch your back; never can tell when the block committee
      might be monitoring the phones."/

      / "It's not my back I'm worried about," she replied with a soft
      emphasis on the word. "I want you to come home and kiss me all
      over." She chuckled her low, throaty laugh again, the way he so
      loved. "In fact, come home right now and make love to me, my love."/

      / "Don't move, don't move," he replied in mock agitation, "I'm
      coming...I mean I'm on my way!"/

      / "Be careful," she murmured. "I love you."/

      / "I will. I do. Love you," he said back. /

      / Frank Bennett leaned back in the chair again and watched the
      computer spew the last of the information onto the folded paper;
      he smiled at his mind's picture of the wife he loved...and loved
      to love. They had met four years before, when he had taught an
      undergrad physics seminar at the university. "Dancing with dunces"
      the course had been nicknamed by the physics professors; it was
      designed for non-science majors, to round out undergraduate
      knowledge with a smattering of science. She had approached him
      after the very first class. "Why the hole in the jacket?" she had
      boldly asked. /

      / "My first lesson in applied physics," he'd answered. /

      / Her perfectly straight strawberry blond hair---just the
      opposite of the variegated and frizzed hairstyles that had become
      so common---had fallen across her shoulders and blown into her
      eyes the first time they went out. He liked the fact that she was
      unconcerned with the fashions of the time. It had surprised him
      that she was such a free-thinker, yet a journalism major. It was
      well known that the professors of journalism at UM--like most
      professors everywhere--frowned on independent thinking. "Stick
      with the government experts," they always urged, with the unspoken
      warning that the national licensing board could snatch your
      journalism license at any time they wanted. /

      / The Journalistic Excellence Resource for Knowledge,
      Oversight, Fairness, and Factuality (JERKOFF) had been put in
      place with the 26th revision of the McCain-Feingold campaign
      finance reform act. Not content to restrict the First Amendment
      rights of non-journalists, Congress had eventually passed
      licensing requirements for all journalists. The U.S. Supreme Court
      had upheld the law, noting that "reasonable restrictions on
      heretofore unreasonably sacrosanct activities can only be
      characterized as a response to new realities not contemplated by
      the Founders. By upholding the /Journalistic Excellence Resource
      for Knowledge, Oversight, Fairness, and Factuality (JERKOFF)/, we
      pay tribute not only to those same Founders, but also to the
      evolving standards of informational responsibility necessary to
      maintain democratic processes as recognized by the World
      Information Court and United Nations, as well as in our sister
      regimes such as Cuba, France, Sudan, and Saudi Arabia. In so doing
      we also celebrate the ongoing evolution of the words in the living
      document that our Constitution must be in order to meet modern
      international realities."/

      / Almost every state had enthusiastically signed on to monitor
      and enforce the new licensing statutes for journalists, and
      accommodations were quickly made by most mainstream media outlets,
      who themselves celebrated the special restrictions aimed at
      muzzling the non-mainstream media./

      / As usual, only the crackpots and fanatics (as the mainstream
      media referred to them) in New Hampshire had refused to cooperate.
      At one point Governor Nappen had called out the state militia to
      back up the state police, when Massachusetts had threatened to
      send its state police, highway patrol, office of terrorist
      security, and state income tax police north into the Free State to
      force compliance with JERKOFF. In addition, Congress saw that
      billions in federal monies were withheld from New Hampshire, but
      the famously resistant New Hampshirites had told the federal
      government to keep its money and JERKOFF itself./

      / So at the university Linda Bennett had stifled her natural
      curiosity and fitted quietly into the journalism curriculum. In
      the end her unusual good looks, with dark eyebrows framing
      striking green eyes had quickly landed her a broadcasting job at a
      local Miami TV station. /

      / But career ambition was not Linda's objective. The work was a
      means to an end: It defeated boredom which she hated. So she was
      pleased and surprised when she discovered she was never bored in
      Frank Bennett's presence. His sharp-edged intellect entranced her.
      She would sit on the beach, arms wrapped tightly around him,
      listening as he tried to explain one or another scientific enigma
      he might be struggling with. And she was shocked when she realized
      she had fallen in love with the man. It had happened so quickly.
      She loved him for his mind, she laughingly told her friends, but
      the sex, like their ability to sense and communicate with each
      other without words, was extraordinary./

      / One evening early in their courtship they had sat together on
      the beach watching the sun sink into Biscayne Bay. As the huge
      red-orange orb sank slowly into the water, they had slipped naked
      together into the warm bay waters. She had clung to him, wrapping
      her legs around his muscular midsection. /

      / "Will you love me?" she had murmured into his ear. A simple
      question, simply asked. He had instinctively known what she spoke
      of; it wasn't the act she meant, but rather something else,
      something that had been unspoken between them. She was seeking
      spiritual intent. He responded simply, nodding his head against
      hers, murmuring yes into her ear, for he had fallen in love with
      her also. They had already instinctively known. They were
      soulmates, of the same spiritual kin./

      / No one seemed surprised when they married within a year.
      Their love broadened and deepened, further enriching their lives
      with each passing day, and they often talked at night of their
      careers and hopes for the future, the children they would have
      and adventures they would seek. But they waited. The time would
      yet be right, after he had won his doctorate and established a
      permanent presence on a university faculty./

      / Frank Bennett stood in the darkness of the lab, reflecting on
      his incredible luck that a woman like Linda would actually love
      him. He knew that when he arrived home she would undress him and
      massage his temples and forehead. Then she would slip into bed
      beside him, and they would savor the warmth and texture and touch
      of each other. He shivered momentarily, then turned back to gaze
      out the dark window at the lights streaming along the nearby
      Interstate. /

      / Presently the whisper of the printer ceased, and he tore off
      the computer paper, folding and thrusting it into a large inside
      pocket of his military jacket. He initiated the shutdown sequence
      for his workstation on the big Biolex/

      / "Is that it for the day?" the machine asked him in its
      mellifluous voice. He punched a "y" on the keyboard, and the
      screen blanked immediately. He knew that no one other than himself
      could activate the internal workstation he had been utilizing. Not
      without knowing the complex sequence of passwords and sign-on
      protocols he had built into the computer under his identification
      code. He had also built in several more redundant layers of
      security beyond those provided by the DIA specialists. He wanted
      his own data to remain sacrosanct. And for good reason. If he
      could make a breakthrough in the area he was researching,
      superpumped solitons utilizing biologic factors, the implications
      would be massive, and would reverberate throughout several
      scientific disciplines./

      / He looked again out the window. He could feel the adrenaline
      building. He would travel through the unkept, violent anarchy of
      Miami at 3:00 a.m. to get home. He savored the feel of it, then
      strode down the hallway past the waiting elevator, entered the
      stairwell and bounded down the stairs several steps at a time. He
      burst out of the stairwell across from the front security station,
      alarming the security guard at the monitor desk. The guard jumped
      when Bennett hurtled out of the stairwell door./

      / "Shit!" he yelled. It was Bennett's friend, Bill Tidwell, who
      had a Louisville slugger raised halfway behind his head. "Would
      you knock that crap off Frank!?!" /

      / Bennett grinned. "Whatsamatter, Bill? You jumpy tonight?"/

      / "Plenty of reason to be," said Tidwell. "You know what's
      outside those doors, well as I do." They looked at each other in
      silence, then turned and peered out the bulletproof glass doors. /

      / Bennett sniggered. "You know what, Bill?"/

      /(to be continued)/

      [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
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