Here in Peep Town
“FBI is a gang of professional criminals paid by the government to break the government’s own laws. FBI itself is above the law. It buries its agents so deeply in anonymity that they can’t be identified by any central authority. They operate freely, unconstrained by oversight or accountability. Is it any wonder that some of them, armed with the most sophisticated privacy invasion tools in existence, use those tools for their own ends?”
“No one will believe you.”
The Postal So-called Police
Captain Chappaquiddick
Faggy Boys Inc.
Our Elected Representatives
A Peepie Primer
Robert the Pervert
The Three Stooges
I Telephone the President
An Arrest?
How the Peepies Enforce
Mob Rule
Considering a Career?
Senator Couldnthelp
Circus Life
A Love Letter
Hal the Pig, CPA
American President Lines
The Cable Guy
Hard Work Pays Off
A Visit from the Plumber
Freaky Me
The Casting Couch
Peep Town Now
Senator Couldnthelp
Writing letters to the authorities
had elicited zero productive results.
Telephoning the president
had turned into a joke on me. I decided to try a different approach. One of my college classmates had gone on to become a U.S. senator. We’d known each other slightly; we'd been the two worst students in our French class, and we’d studied together occasionally. Why not give him a call?
I got his phone number in the Senate Office Building from Washington D.C. information. I called him up and introduced myself. He didn't remember me but he was able to identify me by looking me up in our class yearbook. I verified it was he by asking him a question about his college life that only he could have answered correctly.
I told him I needed his help. I explained that the city of San Francisco was in the grip of a gang of homosexual Peeping Toms, that this gang was underpinned by corrupt FBI agents, and that no one seemed interested in doing anything about it. He replied that he’d do what he could.
I called him back several times. Each time the operator asked me if I recognized his voice before completing the connection. Sometimes the voice on the other end wasn't his. In those cases I said so, and kept saying so, until his voice came on. Unfortunately, our conversations led nowhere. He kept telling me he was doing everything he could.
I was getting exasperated. At one point, in a context I’ve forgotten, I referred to the Peloponnesian War.
"What’s that?" he asked.
"Oh, you know, Senator," I answered in a withering tone, "Athens and Sparta."
How can a senator call himself a statesman without ever having heard of the Peloponnesian War?