Alan (The Plagiarist) Kazlev

On Dpbsmith/archive02 on Wikipedia, a user with the name “Dlloyd” made the following comments about M. Alan Kazlev:

Talk:Sea urchin
Hi, Sorry I’m not quite sure I understand. I’m not M. Alan Kazlev, and the original article I submitted to the Web back in 1998 was written by me. It was published on my now defunct site www.fossil-company.com (The Fossil Company). I can supply you with a link to an archived version of the site if you wish. (By the way, the picture of Lovenia woodsi in the article on the site M. Alan Kazlev was copied from my ‘The Fossil Company’ site, as was some of the text....).

Here is a link to an archive of my original article from Apr 28, 1999: ARCHIVE LINK

I’d say Alan Kazlev “borrowed” from it extensively: KAZLEV’S LINK

Dlloyd 11:47, 28 Jul 2004 (UTC) (Refs: 01 - 02)

Here is my copyright statemant from the bottom of the original Echinoid article:

Copyright © 1995-1997 The Fossil Company Ltd. © 1997-1999 The British Fossil Company Inc.

Both businesses are now defunct and were owned by me.

Dlloyd 11:55, 28 Jul 2004 (UTC) (Ref: 03)

Although Dlloyd claimed that Alan Kazlev “borrowed” material from his website, it is clear that Alan Kazlev plagiarized it and even had the following attribution on the page:

page uploaded 15 June 2002
(originally uploaded on Kheper Site 11 May 1999)
page by M. Alan Kazlev
bars and buttons from Jelane's families of graphics
this material may be freely used for non-commercial purposes

After Dlloyd made this complaint of plagiarism against Alan Kazlev, the relevant webpage about Echinoidea was removed from the palaeos domain (Ref).

Dlloyd’s archived article about Echinoids can be Found Here and with a little more research, I discovered that Alan Kazlev also plagiarized information from the arizona.edu website (Ref).

The following three paragraphs were published on Alan Kazlev’s webpage and the highlighted sections in yellow were taken verbatim from Dlloyd’s website and the highlighted sections in blue were taken verbatim from the arizona.edu website:

Alan Kazlev’s Plagiarized Page On Echinoids:
The Echinoids, or “sea urchins” and “sand dollars” as they are popularly called, are a large and widespread group of echinozoans. They have globular to flattened tests (exoskeletons) composed of a large number of plates, and live free on and in the sea floor. The exterior of this shell bears spines, which among different species vary greatly in size and shape. They lack free arms like those possessed by starfish and crinoids, and use spines and/or elongate tube feet for locomotion. Common echinoids include urchins, sand dollars, and sea biscuits. Including fossil forms, there are 765 known genera.

Modern echinoids live on all types of sea-floor, from the shallow intertidal zone to great depths. They are usually gregarious animals and are often found in immense numbers. There are two main adaptive types of echinoids: the regular echinoids, which usually live on the sea-floor and whose tests have a five-fold radial symmetry, and the irregular echinoids, which burrow into the soft sediment of the sea-floor and possess a test which shows bilateral symmetry along a central axis.

They are active predators and scavengers. Echinoids are the prey of other animals including fishes, as well as other echinoids. Echinoid spines serve as a weapon of defense against predators and are also used for locomotion. They may carry a poisonous tip or be long, slender and needle-sharp, with tips break off in the body of the predator. Despite this formidable armor some fishes have found ways to get through this defensive armour.

Not only has Alan Kazlev been exposed for his gutter lies and moral debauchery, he is also a plagiarist as well.

Tsk!

'Intermediate Zone Guru' Nonsense

'Intermediate Zone Gurus' - An Introduction:
This webpage was created to expose Alan Kazlev's hypocrisy, equivocations and erroneous "intermediate zone guru" argument against Sri Sathya Sai Baba. Alan Kazlev claimed on his website that I "never addresses his intellectual arguments" and instead resort to "personal attacks". Needless to say, Alan Kazlev is blind to his own feral and abusive "personal attacks" in which he resorts to gutter and blatant dishonesty (even claiming that I was sexually abused by Sai Baba, was "massaged" with oil by Sai Baba and was perhaps "inspired and uplifted" by Sai Baba's sexual advances!). See: Joe Moreno Refutes Allegations Of Sexual Abuse.

Alan Kazlev (a self-professed "all round eccentric") coined (as he put it) "the somewhat clumsy phrase 'Intermediate Zone Guru'" (Ref) to describe what he subjectively believes to be: Gurus who are not as "enlightened" or as "liberated" as he thinks they ought to be. Therefore, one should not confuse Aurobindo's notable "intermediate zone" phrase with Alan Kazlev's "somewhat clumsy" and non-notable "intermediate zone guru" phrase.

Let us start by taking a look at Sri Aurobindo's original letter and convoluted words pertaining to the alleged "intermediate zone":

- Click Here To Read Sri Aurobindo's Letter About The Intermediate Zone

Sri Aurobindo, Theosophist W. Q. Judge and Paul Brunton have all made reference to the "intermediate zone", which has also been described as:

• The "astral plane".


• "Astral intoxication".


• The "hall of illusion".

The "intermediate zone" argument is a broad-spectrum supposition that essentially states that visions, spirit guides, clairaudience, clairvoyance, channeling, psychic experiences, spiritual experiences, out-of-body experiences, near-death experiences, moments of peace and inner revelations are not true "self-realization". Rather, these experiences arise from an "intermediate zone" that is described as a perilous and deceptive psychological region in-between ordinary consciousness and genuine self-realization.

The "intermediate zone" argument is not an "intellectual" argument. It is a philosophical, subjective, speculative, judgmental and often a self-serving argument. Anyone who has ever had any sort of "spiritual" experience may be a victim to the illusions, deceptions, voices and enticements of the "intermediate zone". Anyone who claims realization, psychic experiences, miracles, visions and experiences of God may also be a victim to the "intermediate zone". Therefore, according to one's likes or dislikes, one can use the "intermediate zone" argument against Jesus, Krishna, Rama, Mohammad, Zarathustra, Moses, Buddha, Mahavir and innumerable other Gurus, Teachers, Spiritual Masters, Avatars, Prophets, Visonaries, etc. After all, there is no objective way to determine whether or not someone is truly "self-realized". Alan Kazlev's methodology in determining which gurus are "intermediate zone gurus" is based solely on his subjective, biased and speculative guesses rooted in his personal likes and dislikes.

Is Alan Kazlev A Victim Of 'The Intermediate Zone'?
Indeed, one can make the argument that Alan Kazlev is being influenced by forces from the "intermediate zone" because he is a believer, promoter and endorser of Integral Transformation, Integral Metaphysics, Reincarnation, Spirit Possession, Trolls, UFOs, Aliens, Alternate Realities, Cosmic Redemption, Planetary Buddhas, Avataric Gurus, Psychic Powers, Devas, Earth Spirits, Elementals, the Occult, Kundalini, Astrology, Karma, Auras, Astral Bodies, Astral Planes, Astral Beings, Geomancy, Theta Magic, Natal Charts, Samskaras, various New Age philosophies, etc.

Alan Kazlev claimed past life associations with Ancient Rome, Atlantis and Ancient Greece on his bio page. Alan Kazlev explicitly stated that he reincarnates two to three times a century and lived past lives as a Polish Kabbalist, a German Soldier and a 19th Century English gentleman-scholar, philosopher theologian and naturalist raised as a British Israelite (Refs: 01 - 02). Of course, Alan Kazlev's spiritual experiences and spiritual claims are all indicative of the very "intermediate zone" he warns others about. Consequently, Alan Kazlev is not credible because he very well may be possessed by the voices, deceptions, sounds and sights of the perilous "astral realms".

Alan Kazlev said the following about Sathya Sai Baba:

"I always had a good vibe from Sai Baba, and i still do, but i distanced myself because of what i heard (and the huge rumour-mill on the internet)...Yeah he once healed me from the astral plane. So i knew he was genuine!"

"Yet in addition to this more positive Intermediate Zone energy, I have also felt a very ugly and slimy astral energy associated with the sexual abuse. It may be that a lower astral adverse entity is using the human Sai Baba as a puppet to inflict suffering on many."

Therefore, Alan Kazlev claimed he was "healed on the astral plane" and implied he has psychic powers to feel an "ugly and slimy astral energy associated with sexual abuse". Since the "intermediate zone" deals with astral and psychic perceptions, one could argue that Alan Kazlev might be getting his impressions from false voices in the astral realms (which would explain his egotistic opinions, bold-faced untruths, flippant arguments and feral attacks against his detractors). Thank you Sri Aurodbindo, Theosophist W. Q. Judge and Paul Brunton!

It is peculiar that for someone who is not self-realized, Alan Kazlev postures himself as an authority on people who may or may not be self-realized!

Were Aurobindo & The Mother Victims Of 'The Intermediate Zone'?
What greater deception could a conniving and ghoulish Astral Entity from the "intermediate zone" perpetuate than to deceive people into thinking that Sri Aurobindo and Mother Mirra were above the "intermediate zone" and were thereby self-realized? Sri Aurobindo and Mother Mirra claimed special and unique knowledge about the spiritual path and self-realization. It may come as a surprise to many that Sri Aurobindo and Mother Mirra were said to have communicated with each other telepathically and claimed that they used the "Force" (an "intermediate zone" buzz word) to have influenced the events of the Second World War against Hitler because he was under the possession of an Asuric (demonic) being who called himself "The Lord of the Nations, Master of the Earth" (Ref). As a matter of the fact, the following was written about Aurobindo, Mother Mirra and Hitler:

"Mother and Sri Aurobindo participated in the affairs of the earth and the universe according to the mission and the work they were doing. When it was clear that the Second World War was inevitable, they saw the Lord of Nations leading Hitler on and urging him to conquer the world with very tall promises. The Lord of Nations, it was said, appeared before Hitler in a dazzling light in shining white armour and gave him detailed advice. Sri Aurobindo called this war, 'Mother's war.' He used to send his spiritual force in support of the Allies and eagerly awaited the results of individual battles. At every important turning point of the war, Sri Aurobindo took great interest. At the famous Dunkirk battle where the British troops were miraculously saved, it was reported that the fog in the atmosphere served the British navy well. Sri Aurobindo used to refer to that with a smile as the 'mysterious fog'. When Hitler was gaining success after success and Mother was trying in the opposite direction, she said the shining being who was guiding Hitler used to come to the Ashram from time to time to see what was happening. Things changed from bad to worse. Mother decided on a fresh strategy. She took on the appearance of that shining being, appeared before Hitler and advised him to attack Russia. On her way back to the Ashram, she met that being. The being was intrigued by Mother having stolen a march over him. Hitler's attack on Russia ensured his downfall." (Ref)

That's right; Sri Aurobindo and Mother Mirra were alleged to have waged a war on the astral plane (aka "intermediate zone") by using astral powers against an astral demon radiating dazzling light. Therefore, Aurobindo and the Mother's teachings, visions and alleged powers may have originated from the "intermediate zone" and not from genuine self-realization.

'The Intermediate Zone' - In Conclusion
The "intermediate zone" theory can be used to invalidate other's spiritual experiences and can also be used to induce fear, paranoia and doubt about one's spiritual practices and endeavors. Let it go on record that I do not believe that Alan Kazlev, Sri Aurobindo or Mother Mirra were under the influence of sinister energies from the "intermediate zone". This article was written to expose how information can be used and abused to further one's own biased agenda against Gurus or Spiritual Teachers. I think it is safe to say that many people who have had spiritual experiences know they are not "self-realized". For a person who may claim "self-realization", there is simply no empirical or objective methodology to establish the veracity of that claim.

Sathya Sai Baba's miracles (which have been reported in unprecedented numbers on a global scale) are indicative (if true) of spiritual attainment unknown in human history. For example, see:

• Sai Baba Manifestations At Sai Sruti Temple in Harrow, Middlesex, UK


• Sathya Sai Baba Vibhuti Manifestations in a Devotee's House in London


• Satya Sai Baba Vibuthi Manfestations In Bali, Indonesia


• Sai Baba Manifestations In Colusa, California


• Sai Baba Manifestations At Sri Ragnapatnam, Mysore, India


• Sai Sruti's Sai Baba Miracle Photos Galleries

Alan Kazlev argued (unconvincingly) that Sai Baba is a "serial sex abuser". Alan Kazlev believes the allegations against Sai Baba although he conceded (several times) that he did not have the "patience", "inclination", "time" or "interest" to research the Sai Controversy for himself. Consequently, it is not surprising that Alan Kazlev disseminates half truths and whole lies against Sathya Sai Baba and me. The truth speaks for itself:

• Sathya Sai Baba has never been convicted of any crime.


• Sathya Sai Baba has never been charged with any crime.


• Sathya Sai Baba has never had even one single complaint lodged against him by any alleged victim, first-hand, in India. As a matter of fact, not even one alleged victim has even tried to file a basic police complaint or court case against Sathya Sai Baba in India (the only place where courts would have jurisdiction over Baba as an individual defendant: Ref) and all of the alleged victims refused free "world-class legal resources" from Ex-Devotees (Ref).

It is also peculiar that for someone who postures himself as a moral authority concerning various Guru's alleged behaviors, Alan Kazlev is a plagiarist, posted "images of a pornographic kind" on his website (Ref) and published two cyberpunk stories replete with filthy speech and graphic, sexual content (Refs: 01 - 02).

In conclusion, Alan Kazlev's self-described "intellectual arguments" are not so "intellectual" after all. He coined "the somewhat clumsy phrase 'Intermediate Zone Guru'" by twisting and extrapolating on Sri Aurobindo's words. The end result is a "somewhat clumsy" argument that is nothing more than camouflage for a lack of original ideas.

Alan Kazlev - Cyberpunk Sex-Laden Story

Hap New Year
by M. Alan Kazlev
(Released Into Public Domain On The Kheper.net Website)

Alan Kazlev is into "harcore cyberpunk" (Ref) and wrote two cyberpunk articles replete with filthy speech and sexually explicit material. Where and how exactly did Alan Kazlev derive his inspiration for drug and sex-laden stories?

FOUR!
THREE!
TWO!
ONE!
HAAAPP NEWWWW YEAR!

toooohhhh tooohhhhhhhhh nanofireworks sploding in a million color fractals each of them in turn sploding in a million more toohhhhh toooohhhhhhhh sparkling dazzling reflecting off the shiny mirror faces of all the skyscrapers with messages and anis flashing in the Head Up Display of my Ray Surf while the crowd’s pressing in on all directions skwashing me laffing screaming cheering shouting stinka sweat piss vomit alcohol emjay tripweed making my head spin hot sticky SHOOD OLE QUAINTANCE BEE FORGOHHHT this spunky topless babe long hair flouro glo-in-dark make-up mega spunky tits shirt tied in her belt outa nowhere gives me great big kiss kiss soft lips smella sweat and pheronomes grinds her hips into mine sus my dicks gonna burst thru my pants wrap my arms round her bare back pork her fuck her up the vag in the new year strobing crazy head spinning scene she laffs and breaks strobes blinks free some dude in moir jacket maybe her fuck grabs her patterns whirlings strobing reinforcing through tripweed smoke fuck this strobing everything coming in jerks making me wanna puke drink HappyO drink HappyO HappyO the fun drink where’s that babe gone? Maybe I hallucinated her. Unless he was an av, but how could she hold me cos I not in a hotsuit or nothing. This brotha in a reflective shirt catching laser lightshow strobes upto me in discontinuous movements hugs me slobbers all over me hap new year brotha yeah yeah cheers brotha. Cop gunships still circling. Someone drops a bottle nearby smash of breaking glass like the huge holo-enhanced vid screens off half a doz buildings each split into nine squares showing New York London Berlin Shanghi Mexico City Nairobhi Tokyo Rio Crystal Palace mirrored in my HUD a little ninth square expands to fill the whole skyscraper the whole HUD that’s right Alicia the atmosphere in Rio is really something at the moment, and we at World Network News are piping this to you live so all you virchers out there who wanna party can just plug in to our stimspace at CityGard gunships fucking coppa pigs weaving between diamondoid struts flying low over the crowd still yelling haap new year brotha nexta me in spasms on ground jerking epileptic fit or maybe just bad trip but not surprised what with the strobing lightshow hap new year man! some wild eye smiling brotha off his face on ecky or varn or bliss or smash with breath like fresh spew gives me a hug and turns the next dude pooooooo this flare arches brilliant red dot from the crowd nearby hits a strut poohhh! explodes in red glowing sun all bathed in red red red sparks floating down it fades to strobing laser on off on off strobe strobe strobe strobe fuck shouldnt've had that pleen earlier disorientation really hitting me again hope I don’t come in my pants again pleen does that fucking hate that "-as we move into this brave new year people from all over the globe-" Alphonse Cheng CEO of CBD Development (Int.)'s speech coming thru the mike as audio, scrolling text in the bottom of the Field of View of the HUD but the letters are dancing and swimming hardly hear cos of all the fireworks, but it’s all the same shit anyways its always the same all the lights and smoke and holos toohhh tooohh toooohhh tooooohhhh toooohhhhhhh bee-bee-bee-beeeehhhhh ears ringing, eyes dazzled, wish I didnt feel so sick tall skinny Bruvv Iseabail stumbles over in his chrissun robes. "Bless upu my children bless you, bless you." Scopes me. "God bless you Geoffrey!" Bruvv Iseabail’s the only one who use my name, even if it's not my real name, thats why I forgive his crazy shit I guess. That and cos he's memed, so it nah his fault. He sways drunkenly, cheeks flushed and purple, like how they get when he takes that toxic alcohol, farrk how can anyone drink that stuff? "God bless you child," he goes, starts sorta walking to me, think he’s bumping into everyone tho hard to tell cos of the lite show and that. A band of prolies in old imitation ex-cop flack jackets and shorts come by, waving fuzzum pints and tripple X lager, all off their faces. "Fuck ya ya cunt!" "Yeah happy new year cunt!" "Happy new year yaself ya cunt!" Even tho I so wasted still manage to step aside. They sorta carry Bruvv Iseabail along with 'em, not meaning to, but he in the way. Well, sus he orta be cryo, he bout their age and all bee-bee-bee-bee-bee-beeeehhhhh! cascaders twisties roman candles starbursts fracties so many fireworks tooo-tooo-tooo-toooohhhhh! clouds of smoke colored lasers everywhere red green blue yellow purple white upper level Key Plaza best place to be to see in hap new year skyscrapers diamondoid struts plexiglass domes lightshows so many fractal sparklers must be a billion million zillion light beams stabbing the air interfacing with the applets and grafix coming off the Net real life merging with virch so u can’t tell what’s real and what’s virch giant 3Ds of Magnie Ambient the World’s Spunkiest Girl, all golden glowing hair and skin and boobs, and superstud stimshow host Rock Rombert bringing u the very best in entertainment hoping I’d get a message from Angelstar cos I luv her so much but her icon’s dimmed feel like I’m gonna be sick again too much shit too much shit tired of ya old look don’t be a lamer get nuskin - nuskin the original, only from vitek fuck off thought I specified [NO ADDS] fuckka musta hacked thru my operating system again gotta get another update of Sentinal fuck my head hurts from all the strobing holographic laser light everywhere young ppl old ppl prolies grungies cybies chromos phenos xenos druggies stimmies gamies gangers grokkers bangers slammers rammers borgers transers a million different tribes whirling together down a vortex black hole event horizon feel sick sick sick its all going down the whole down the gutter sewer toxic recycling waste dump a zillion little genginerred bugs knawing at your insides disolving everything eating u hope and shitting u out as phosphates nitrates carbonites raw materials for nanofabs to equip CBDdev’s borged-up highed muscle strutting around sposed to be policing but they as outa it as everyone else cos it’s so hot hot so hot midnite and it’s so hot that there’s beads of sweat under the collar of my StreatKred ® OutLawz TM trickling down under my armpits to fuck I hate that when it drips down my sides "-and despite all the challenges facing us, it promises to be an even better year for this great country of ours-" ahh go pull yourself, Prezident Holroyd, wot do u know, sitting in your super-posh mansion coca-cola smart - if you’re smart, you want coca-cola smart - fifty micrograms of neuronal enhancers in every can fuck, can’t even scope anything past multicolour HUD anis cos of all the smoke from the fireworks and all the lightshows hey there's my sista Kimmie pashing with some brotha and it not Snake haap new year! smiling ecked out phenos full exotics dogz ratz birdmirn catpeeple dinos Doogie should be out here he'd be right at home (if he can decide which tribe he belongs to that is) pooooooo another flare blue this time poohhh! cool blue brilliant sun descending down scene changing again in Berlin unprecedented crowds are partying the new year in while over in Nairobi yeahhhh checkit "Myoooot!" strobe strobe sparkle sparkle Kimbie's face suddenly right up close her fountain of platinum hair like fibre optic shower "HAP NEW YEAR!" lips so soft so soft so soft gainst mine close eyes shut out strobing head spinning to much she holds me I hold her hands on her back she’s got the front of her OutLawz ballistic duster unbuttoned and all she got is a bra and shorts on underneath, cos it so hot and all, man this turns me on my cock’s a throbbing point of agony ecstasy wanna fuck fuck FUCK her right here right this here right now she breaks away I open eyes she’s all big beautiful smile sexy legs little dayglo bright pink shorts black bra big tits merges strobes into the crowd like she never was "the culmination of the year, and one that augurs well for for all of us, is the aggrement with NeoTek which will provide- " explosion of twisty-sparklies bee-bee-bee-bee-beeehhhhh! hey did someone just fall thru that gap in the plaza to the level of original street or just strobe effect? Two of them fucking coppa gunships right overhead circling like birds of prey whining turbofans small blue triangle laser scanner playing thru the crowd searching searching "Crystal Palace orbital has never been more deserving of its name than" the strobing stops, and techno rumble stops, time to go home maybe? Some one passes me a joint made a several emjay ciggs nah usually smoke but take a drag and pass it on too the ecked out dude nexta me suddenly realise its my brotha Napier and my sista Jode. "Mute brotha!" Napier grins too-too-too-too-toooohhh! go fireworks behind him and I blink, dazzled too much lite shows too much pharm as he wraps wiry arms round me pongy b.o. StreetKred says its dusters never get pongy, but they nevva tested 'em on Napier I cert. His breath smelly too, tho sus I just as bad. "Hap new year brotha check the babes!"

"Whaddaya mean babes?" Jode growls.

Napier lets go of me. "Hey sista, nah get enuff of ya!" His duster’s unbuttoned like the rest of us, I mean, it hot enuff as it is, and all he’s got is his dirty sportzboy skirt and Raptorz boots and that’s all. The head of his bio-enhanced dick hangs out from under the hem of his mini skirt NEOTEK written on it in small glowing green letters. Jode hits him in the chest with the side of her fist, not the spikes on her knucklers of cors. He sorta chuckles, lifts up the front of his skirt, pulls out his bionic enhanced cock and flops it around. The little green NEOTEK starts blinking red green red green. Jode’s like half laffing half disgusted "put it away Napier!" Smiles at me, in a happy mood for once tonite sus. "Hap new year anywayz brotha" She gives me a big hug and kiss, pressing herself against me so I start going hard. Both my sistas are quite spunky, fact. She lets go, vizzies Napier grinning and going for it. "Napier, pause witha wanking hey!" To me "later Muter." They merge into the crowd.

A small clan of stimmies push past, brothas and sistas, holding each others, wired to each others genitals, laffing and screaming with joy.

Wish I had a girlfriend.

I was hoping Angelstar at least’d come on and wish me haap new year.

This sux.

Where’ve Jode and Napier gone?

Fuck.

Feel dizzy all of a sudden.

Things spinning again. Hate that. New year or no, last time I’m taking this much pharm, thadda cert "-that has made NewHaven project the envy of the metropolitan district-" Someone being sick right nexta me, some dero fukka bhergh bherghh BHHERRUGHHH! Spew everywhere sorta gooey yellowy grey color some of it gets on my coat and daks and some drips down thru my ripped denims and inside my Raptorz boots fucking feel it wet and yucky on my sox if I wazn’t so wasted I’d have that cuhn. just imagine how Snake’d react. Or Jode. They wouldn’t take that shit, someone chucking up on 'em. Think I’m gonna faint. Too much fireworks splosions my ears ringing yeah fucking hap new year thanx for the chunda brotha u wanna move - u need AeroFloatz - pressure adaptive soles, memory-polymer lacings n cilia-generated micro airflow for coolness and comfort - Nike - just do it - yo! On off on off here we go again bibibibibibiiiii fly like an eagle bibibibibibiiiii fly like an eagle techno-fusion sounds like Antarr Rhys or maybe Kosmik JamborEE strobe strobe bibibibibibiiiii fly like an eagle what’s an eagle? if I wasn’t so outa it I’d do a search. what does the future hold? Madame Fu ™ knows. Find put what life for has in store for u with our Madame Fu TM Expert System no thanks I nah wanna fucking kno what’s in store for me thats riight Roy; what they've actually done here in Mexico City is to reconstruct an entire aztec temple complex complete with farrrk, this is too mega disorientating gotta sit, park my butt somewhere. Global One - big solutions for a small planet. All this Global One shit starts scrolling thru my HUD. "It’s a speed thing. Pure, unadulterated broadband speed. And that’s exactly what you get with Global One ™ A blazingly fast dedicated downlink plus simultaneous data compression-decompression and our network of-" Something spraying over me hope it be beer or fuzzum fuck it’s warm must be piss spin round to slam the fucka but there's just this crowd of outta it faces.

Bit more breathing space on this smooth marble step. Well, it clone marble I sus. Like who got real marble? Everything clone now days. Atomically accurate.
Still feel sick and outa it. All the pharm. My getup’s so heavy, my OutLawz and boots and shit. Maybe park here a bit longer should be cryo. Least I’m outa the strobe. Hate that retro disco shit.

Now there’s this trippy stuff scrolling. What the fuck all the music too pharmocoupia enhanced brain evolution through chemical synthesis of neuropeptides BioGen’s Nurone TM retroengineered nanoviroids boost neurotransmitter potentials by 5000% make the transhuman leap to the post-larval grade of interstellar extraterrestrial evolution as prophesied by Saint Timothy and Yaqui Shamanism proof that Carlos Castenanda was originally from Orion the cybonically and psychedelically-enhanced bardo realise the enlightenment of the Clear Light of the Bardo the Buddha Vairocana who on the seventh day "Yo hard brotha! Check hap new year with these babes"

Look up, blinking thru the grafix.

This craze-looking dude, wide eyes, dilated pupils behind his Cyberman visor. Standing over me holding out some pharm in his hand. No thaaanx! Had enuff for tonight. Shake my head. The Buddhist iconography fades to white and out of the white this old dude called - I squint to read the name - Saint Timothy Leary - appears in my HUD, big smile all wreathed in gold halo. Must be one of the deities the pharmos worship. "Good gear!" he grins a me. He merges with the pharmo dude in real life. How’d he do that? Nanofog? Or am I still tripping. Nothings fucking real any more. Droplets of sweat on this bozo’s forehead glimmer in the night like stars. A long document on The Psychedelic Experience and The Tibetan Book of the Dead starts downloading onto my Ray Surf’s hard drive. KKHHHHHHH! Hot air blasts over me, furnace hot. Blue triangle laser light on the strange brotha's hand body face so bright I squint as it jumps aggressively to attack me I look down and my chest and legs have this blue triangle outline moving over them. KKHHHHHHH! We both look up. Hot air on my face big rectangular shape, rounded nose, thrust vents, spotlight and laze sight, zapper turrets and riotfoam pods. Cop gunships, CityGard logo underneath - checked blue and white band over smilie face with crossed zapper and batons - big painted text

CityGard
015to
CityGard
we never sleep - so you can

on the bottom. Timothy Leary and the document are pushed aside as all this coppa shit starts loading in my HUD, CityGard homepage, Neighbourhood Watch, How You Can Tell Your Kid Is Involved In A Gang... Farrk, all I need. The Po shit starts fighting with the pharmo shit. Like, they having a regular rumble on my Ray Surf Fixed Drive. I’m in for it now. I mean, if u doughed up the pigs heavy u, and if u not u could get wasted in a driveby or alleyway. U nah win and u nah win. One Jan in a holding cell. I check the pharmo brotha, what I can make of him thru all the grafix and ani and shit in the HUD. He sorta swaying, he so outa it. Holding up the hand with the pharm in it, like a offering. Yells over roar of thrusters "HEY MAN, LEGAL!"

The gunship hovers, the wash of its engines hot on my face.

I feel sick in my guts.

just go away. just go away, nah heavy us.

Fucking coppas.

The gunship peels off to scope out the resta the crowd.

My lungs empty in a lonnnng sigh.

The pharmo dude mumbles after 'em "yeah, fuck off. Fashists."

Nah sus what a fashists is, tho gestimate it mean one of their enemies in the pharmo cultics.

He scopes me again. "Fuckin fashists. Don’t give ya a min peace. Not like this shit illegal neither."

I give a sympathetic nod.

He takes off his Cyberman, starts fiddling with it. "See what they did. Fuckin hung my system. Prob put a trojan or a virus in there. Hafta do a low level format. Fashists. Mean, ifn it was Black Lace or shit, could understand it. Jus Hip Peppie Tides. Health Food." He stares into space. "Hey! Jojo! That u man? Yeah. Fucking oinkers hacked my system. Wadda ya mean. Cors I had my firewall up. How do I kno man? Musta used some nanoprobe. Yeah howdaya know they dont have that shit? CityGard. Yeah. Well howdaya know they dont have that shit? Like they’re sweet with CBDdev and the dev has it fah sure. Yeah well howdaya know they dont have that shit? Yeah. Okay. Ready. Cool" He sorta leers at me, or maybe it’s a smile. His eyes look funny. Glazed sorta. "My man Jojo’s gonna fix my tech. Fuck that man’s on another planet, top hack but knows shit, like since the oinkas made the deal with CBDdev they been getting the unreal tech, not like the old days fuck what does he know they dont have that sorta shit."

Yeah, well if ya ask me the hack’d sus more’n this clown. Anyway I just sick and trippy enuff as it is.

"Hey brotha?"

Shake my head. Sick of looking at his craze face so scope the dirty concrete between my boots. My Ray Surf’s playing this movie about some juve called Brian and how he’s getting in trouble thru hanging out with his homies. It’s a coppa propoganda vid, tho one I havent seen before.

"They fucked ya system too eh?" he says.

I look at him, nod.

"Fuckin fashists. Can’t handle the truth. Old Aeon thinking. They couldn’t handle Timthee Leary when he was alive and they still can’t. Same as Cheezus and the rest."

Pharmo cultics. Nah into it.

"This about freedom brotha! Freedom to have a good time. And evolve beyond the stage ovva larval terrestrial primate. Ahh. Cool" He taps the side of his Cyberman. "I’m online again." The cop shit is trashed and the pharmo cultics starts coming thru again, tibetan deities and dna graphics and nano-neuronal interfaces and ancient civilisations and chemical models of drugs and shit and the pharmo is like "Check the score bro! Chemical Enlightenment." and fuck this is all starting to get on my nerves already like why does everyone have to hack into my sustem all the time I push myself up, walk off. "Hey where ya going?" I ignore him. He yells behind me "fuck off then. Fuckin straighthead!"

Fuckin straighthead hey? Whatever that is. Wish Snake was here. He’d take the fukka out.

I take off my cyberman. Shut it down, flick the power off. Put it back on, now its nothing but standard shades. Fuckin straighthead...muvvafukka! If Snake or Napier ever heard that, that fucka’d be dead!

Wanna get outa here. Start walking again. Back into the lightshow.

Push thru the crowd.

Faces. Sweaty bodies.

The syntho techno beat muddling with Kirby’s speech and the hap new year rap. A humungus 3D of Ipissimus Agrippa in his regal-ia floats in the air above, pushing in with the Neotek logo. Microsoft, Sun, Nike, Burger King, too many logos, all of 'em flashing like spazzo, making my headache worse. Push past a bunch of prolies off their faces on fuzzum. A few old wrinklie ravers on eckie or pleen or something sorta dancing, tho they nah very good. Dadadadadadaa dididididi goes the beat. Oooh i feel lerrrrv goes the words. Oooh i feel lerrrrv. Shoulder between a tribe of cybies all luminous eyes and tek implants. Thru the screaming laffing dancing hugging kissing crying spewing strobing crowd. Holoscreens an entire skyscraper the Big Apple's showing once again it ahs what it takes we're virching to you live from Central Park with Kimmie chatting mega friendly with some strange brotha, tall grungy with spikey duo mohawk, flak jacket, and lotta bod piercing. My head spinning like crazy, maybe shoulda rested more. Global One logo flashing thru the smoke and lightshow. Two brothas and a sista nexta me sharing pipe laffing and falling off each other must be tripweed prob laced with bliss or pleen.

Snake my brotha pushing past them, sleeveless ballistic jacket so shows nanotatt on each arm, face screwed up, tatts angry slitted red eyes, goes upta mohawk Kimmie with, pushes him back "FUCK OFF MAN!"

The mohawk scopes him. "Sup man."

"Fuckin mess nutha brotha's babe show ya sup!"

Mohawk raises both hands palms forwards goes "easy brotha peace like. Hey. Cryo."

Kimmie goes "Snake he nah mess me. Snake? Snaaaaake?" she grabs his arm.

Snake shakes Kimbie's hand off, steps forward, pushes mohawk back. "SAID BACK OFF CUHN!!"

"Kay brotha ceasefire ready," Mohawk backs off.

"Snaaake..." Kimmie goes.

"Fuckin slut! Whadda beed doin!" He grabs her wrist. "Fuckin turn away two sec ya lipdockin some cuhn!" Twists her arm.

"Owwww! Dohhhhn!"

Farrrrk. Heavy scene. Gotta rescue Kimmie .

Push thru to 'em.

Outa nowhere this gothie vampire couple blocks my way. "How bout a drink hard boy?" the sista vampire, the morticia goes, scoping my neck. Fuck. Nah wanna mess with vammies, just hope they nah mess with me, keep going nah viz 'em nah even look at 'em. They step aside. Cryo! Gotta rescue Kimmie .

Kimmie’s like "owwwwww leggohhh!!!"

"What, ya go, jus flirt with every fuckin cuhn come along?"

"Nohhhhhh leggohhhh!!!" She starts crying.

"Nah scope me smoochin every babe, do ya? Do ya??!"

"Myuooot!" Streches her free arm to me. "Snake's hurrrrtin me. Owwwww!!!"

He looks at me agro "nah fuckin hurtin her!"

I go up so my face centimetres from his. He stares at me, face contorted, hot breath fogging up my smart shades. I’m mega sick. Either he whacks me with his free hand or he let go of Kimmie . His face swims. Fuck this being outa it. Feel like I gonna chuck.

He lets go of her, takes a step back. "Didja check wot this sista did?"

I shake my head to pretend that I nah scope her lipdock mohawk, but it just make me more dizzy.

"Fuckin lipdock strange cuhn!"

I try to give sorta half-sympathetic nod.

"Nah only be nymphoslut, catch fuckin disease!"

"Nohhh wohn," Kimmie goes.

"Ifn kiss ya, pork ya, nah sus whadda get!"

Kimmie looks away, like maybe trying avoid Snake's gaze. Her eyes light up, she goes "hiiiii!"

I turn round, slowly so I nah black out. Them fucking vammies again. The morticia’s still scoping my throat. The brotha vampire, the vlad, gots his attention fixed on Kimmie .

Kimmie goes "ya real vampires?" Snake just vizzies me like everyone inna world 'cept me and him are mega fucked.

"That is right my sweet, we are the children of the night," goes the vlad in that funny way they rap. He’s not very tall, 'bout my height, but even skinnier, with long black hair running back from an exaggerated wid-ow peak. Nah matter that he’s skinny tho, them vammies r baaaad news. U nah wanna slam 'em.

"Ya gots ya metabolism redone an all?" Kimmie wants to know.

Snake goes "look bro-"

He ignores him, goes like "oh yes we are the real thing. I can assure you my sweet little flower" He’s smiling just enough to show tips of his canines pressing against lips. His eyes got a look I nah like.

The morticia goes "there’s a lovely orb display just around the corner, little ones, in the park." her head turns towards the area.

Snake goes "scuse us kay," grabs Kimmie by the shoulder, steers her off.

The vammies viz hungrily their departing backs.

Now they’re scoping me.

Morticia smiles. Long sharp canines. "That leaves just us. So tell me....how hard are you, hard boy?" Ugly menace in her voice. Hatred, loathing.

Gotta get outa here or I gonna be vammie lamb. Like they got viroids that fuck u up when u been bitten. I turn and push thru the crowd after Snake and Kimmie . Feel their hot heavy stare on my back, on my neck. Makes the hairs on my skin stand up. Zero in on the techno beat, let the sound wash away the heebies. The beat even louder now, now that the fireworks are over. Techno fusion, sounds like some Antarr Rhys clone. Laser strobing everything still flicking on and off in time to the beat. All the tatatatatta wiwiwiwiwi getting to my head. This nah very good techno. Sus someone just spewed on me again. Appaluchia Gold - when only the best will do in two huundred metre tall letters flashes across the buildings. Kimmie and Snake are standing under a maglev pillar. I can hear Kimmie going "they were harrrd, hey Snake?"

"Jus fuckin posers," Snake’s reply.

Kimmie looks over at me, waves.

I stumble over.

Snake says "les get outa here, all this techno making my head spin." "I wanna stay lohhnger."

"Nah way, too many wierdos" Looks at me. "Comin?"

Nod.

He puts an arm around Kimbie's shoulder.

I just wanna lie down somewhere. But I follow after 'em. After all, they are my only family.

This cyberpunk story had me falling out my chair laughing. Not because of its sleaziness, psycho-babble, uncommon grammar and atrocious spelling mistakes. Rather, I was thoroughly amused that Anti-Sai Activists (including the pseudo-moralists Robert Priddy, Barry Pittard, Kevin Shepherd and Brian Steel) heavily cite and reference Alan Kazlev as an honest, decent, sober and credible person against me. Apparently, Ex-Devotees are in for a surprise! Expect critics to ignore, dismiss and trivialize Kazlev's sleaze, images of a "pornographic kind" and moral debauchery.

Also See:
- Alan Kazlev - Cyberpunk Druggy Article
- Grungy Alan Kazlev

Alan Kazlev - Cyberpunk Druggy Article

syndorphin2-6-C
by M.Alan Kazlev
(Released Into Public Domain On Cyberpunk.omou.net)

Alan Kazlev is into "hardcore cyberpunk" (Ref) and wrote two cyberpunk articles replete with filthy speech and sexually explicit material How exactly does M. Alan Kazlev know so much about drugs, drug usage and the drug scene?

Every time we hit a speedbump my head whacks the ceiling. Dasa's hunched forward in the driver's seat. Sweat shines on his bunched muscles, on his cropped fuzz of hair. Still got my dataglasses on so there's all these site listings scrolling before my eyes. Feel nauseous from lack of HappyO. Nova Probe Five trance apocalypse metal thunders in my ears. I'm trying very hard not to think about Amanda.

"Yes? Arnold? Is Arnold there?" Marvin's stentorian voice carries over the grinding beat. His avatar's sitting there in the top left corner of the ‘glasses display next to the rest of us, this pooncy little miniature, even more of a queen than the original. I glance over at him, making the site listings scroll horizontally. He's sitting there with his mobile pressed hard to his ear like its stuck with KrazyGlue or something. "Yes. I'd like to speak-"
A drone van zooms up out of the night at an intersection. Dasa swerves just at the last moment; bottles of Boost rolling all over the floor. More scrolling, fast, now I'm dizzy now as well as sick. "Fuck!" Dasa breathes. We're gonna crash one day, I just know it. Just hope my body doesn't look too mashed when they broadcast it live as it's being cut outa the wreckage. Nice vidding for the goulish. Fuck I cant handle that TrueRealityLive. Could never sus why Amanda always had to have it on.

"I want to know if Arnold's there. Pardon me, Dasa, could you turn that down please?"
Feel like I'm choking you know. The air in this bimbobox always smells of b.o. and fart and dirty laundry, mainly cos Dasa cuts the air conditioning to get more juice to the motors. My knees are cramped against the back of his seat.
"Yes, Arnold, I'd like to...excuse me, DASA, WILL YOU PLEASE TURN THAT FUCKING MUSIC DOWN?" Nova Probe Five powers down a few dozen decibels. We hit another speedhump. My head bumps against the roof again. "I'm sorry, what was that? He's not? Well do you know when he'll be in? No. Cool, thank you."

Cool. God. Marvin's the only nigel under thirty I've ever known who still says "cool" as a colloquialism.
"No luck?" Amber the blonde gasmgurrl with the incredible legs is squeezed in on the other side of Marvin.
"They're just cunts," Marvin tells her. He looks at me, fat lips and small moist eyes smiling. "If you'll pardon the language."

Dasa mutters "yeah, cunts," Behind the `glasses bright text and icons street lights and ghostly trees and houses rush past. Some of the listings look vaguely interesting. I just cant be fucked keying into them. Dasa makes a hard right. I'm thrown against Marvin's soft and eager bod. "Wooooh!" Marvin grins.

"Spyder, leave Marvin alone!" Renee the little dark-haired gasmgurrl laughs the front seat. Amber grins at us. Her av lights up ting! text appears in the display chat window ***Syder - leave Marvin alone!

"No, please molest at your leisure," Marvin suggests.

"In your dreams Marvin," I mutter. My t-shirt's soaked with sweat; it's all sticky and clammy against my back. Fuck I need a hit. I need my medicine or I'm gonna go fucking nuts in here. An image of Amanda floats unbidden before my eyes and my heart wrenches with the memories. Me and Amanda on the beach. Sunset. Why is it that even when someone treats you like shit, just dumps you like that, u still can't stop loving them? That all you want to do is be with them. Why is the human heart so stupid? I lean as far as I can against the window, rejoicing in its hard surface. The listings scrolling before my eyes are a mindless blur, a never-ending river of data.

"I'll try JoyousBoi," Marvin suggests. "JoyousBoi's always got gear."

"Yeah, sick Marvin," I mutter. A little icon for this JoyousBoi pops up next to Marvin's. Anything to take away the pain...

connecting...........

JoyousBoi. God what a nick. What'd I do to deserve this? Ting! JoyousBoi's icon lights up. Marvin booms out "Hello? Can I speak to JoyousBoi please? Marvin. Yes, this is Marvin, he knows me-"

Another furtive glance at Amber. Why does she have to sit next to Marvin? How come gays get all the girls? Dasa swings another hard right. Why are we going round in circles? The great unsolved mysteries of life.

"Dasa, why are we going round in circles?" Renee asks. Her av lights up Ting! text scrolls ***why are we going round in circles?

Dasa grunts. "Cos." We hit another fucking speedhump.

"WILL SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHY WE'RE GOING ROUND IN CIRCLES?" Renee cries. She's got short spikey black hair and a sexy face ruined only by a nose like the beak of a predatory bird. Why do gasmgurrls always have to be so spunky looking? There's another mystery for you. "HUH??!!! DASA???" My dick's going hard again; that's how long I've been off the ‘dorth.

Proteus's av appears in the dg display. Proteus is a bot. I think. Or an AI. A hackakid by the nick of nIgHtStAlKeR once traded him (it? him? her?) for a kilo of HappyO and 200 grams of DMT. God knows what he did with all that skag. Put it in his olds' coffee perhaps. In those days the Doc was still around and drugs came easy. Tonight Proteus looks like a man, except that his body's all shiny like liquid. Sometimes he looks like a woman. Sometimes an animal. Sometimes an alien. His voice is asexual over the ‘box's speaker system. Text scrolls on the ‘glasses chat window. "The reason we're going round in circles is because Dasa is feeling emotionally stressed because he's not scoring any syndorphin2-6-C and so feels compelled-"

"-yes I'd like to speak to JoyousBoi please. This is Marvin. Marvin! You can check my ident-"

Ronni's Goodtime HomePage flashes in big letters, pushing the other listings aside. Vid of a sexy girl masturbating. My cock goes even harder. Lust and nausea fight for control.

"-driving round in circles in a manner conducive to endangering life." Proteus concludes.

"Thank you for that, Proteus," Renee says. "Now tell me something I don't know." She looks round at me. "AIs!"

"Well, you had to ask," I manage to say. My stomach doesn't feel too good, even though I haven't eaten all day. ‘Turkey's a killer.

Dasa pulls another sharp right. Marvin's kinda like a pillow my bod falls against. Apart from the robot drones, the streets are deserted at this hour. "By the way Dasa," Proteus observers "you just clocked up another speeding violation. Ticket number 253b610037t." Ting! A copy of the ticket protocol summary scrolls down the chat window.
"Fuck," Dasa says. He pulls the wheel sharply to the right. Whoomp! Another speed hump, my head against the ceiling.

"I'm accessing the PoliceStar databanks now. Accessing speeding violation ticket. Ticket number 253b610037t deleted." Ting! ***Deleted...

"Thanks broh." Dasa's shoulders hunch even more. We're airborn again, whack! my head against the roof. Fuck I hate speedhumps.

"Marvin! Yes. I'm a friend of JoyousBoi. Yes, I'll hold." Marvin presses his chin over the mouthpeace. Smiles to me "they're all just cunts. If you'll pardon the expletive."

Whump! Ouch another speedhump. "Dasa!"

Dasa actually glances round at me. Apart from the shaved head he looks a lot like the young Sly Stallone in the vids my olds used to always watch. "Yeah Spyd?"

"D'ya think you could find another street to go round in?"

"Hey?"

Whump! I grit my teeth. "Speedhumps."

"Sorry broh. Sick. Let's ex this scene." We swerve round a roundabout. Tires screech, street lights and houses and scolling displays blur. Round and round the roundabout. I'm gonna spew, I know I am. My stomach spasms, but nothing comes up.

"Cochleal fluid disorientation," Proteus observes "nausea, extended exposure can lead to long-term physiological effects."

"Thank you Proteus," I hiss between gritted teeth.

Dasa chuckles, straightens the wheel. We shoot ahead like a rocket, the motor a high pitched whine.

Marvin's voice: "what do you mean he doesn't know me?" I make the mistake of looking at him.

He gives me a look like aren't these dealers such a pain. "I called barely a month ago. Yes. Okay, I'll hold." Impatient sigh.

Dasa pulls a hard left and Marvin scrunches against me. Someone's just let off another fart. I want to unwind the window but the mechanism's stuck again, happens all the time with these old ‘boxes. We pass a 7eleven. An animation of the 7eleven logo fills my dg's. A little dittty starts playing in my earphones, a movie now of happy ppl buying stuff, superimposed over more homepage listings. Thought I selected filter all ads under options.

Renee yells "hey, pull over Dasa!"

"Whah?" he goes.

"Got the munchies!"

Dasa swings a hard-U. Tires squeal. Centrifugal forces drive me into Marvin's welcoming flab. The 7eleven tune and movie come up again. It's really giving me the shits. Happy happy happyyyyy.!!!! Proteus is saying "-another one. Illegal U-turn. Ticket number 083c5036048t" Ticket protocol text scrolls before my eyes.

"Fuck," Dasa mumbles. He hits the anchors hard! I'm slammed against the front seat.

"Dasa fucking shit!" Renee yells.

"Sorry," he mutters. I pull my dg's and earphone off, can't handle all the ad jingo shit. We're double-parked in front of the 7eleven. My stomach's a sick tight knot.

"Deleting now," Proteus says.

"Thanx man," Dasa replies to him (it?).

I get out. Cool night air on my sweaty brow.

The urge to vomit passes. It feels good. to stretch my legs.

Renee leads the way inside, jacket, oversized T-shirt, stockinged feet but no shoes. No panties either I bet. What is it about gasmgurrls? I put the dg's in my shirt pocket. Cameras in armored casings track us. Everything's clean, the shelves neat and stocked. Some juves on SmartSkaytZ glide between the aisles, around and around. They stop to check out Amber and Renee. Don't blame them. Gotta get some syndorph or I'll start wanking again. At least when your smashed you don't hafta worry about sex. The shop nigel checks us out mega paro from behind his security glass. I give him the thumbs up, say "yo, peace brother!" Dunno why I bother though.

"What's that," Marvin's booming. "Yes of course we've got eurobucks, what do you think we are?" He looks up at me.

"Gimme that." I take the mobile. "Yeah, yo!"

"Yo", comes the voice at the other end. He's disabled the video 3D display so there's just the Telstra logo in the little screen.

"We got euro man. Good enuff for you?"

"Yah. Euro or Nuyen or Yuan."

"Yeah we got euro, sick?" Fucking moron. We never had these hastles with the Doc.

"Sick."

"Spyder!" Renee yells.

"Yo." I hand the mobile back to Marvin and amble over. She and Amber have picked out chips and tofu-bars and fruit juice and chokkie mango supremes. My stomach spasms, a tight knot of bile and hunger.

"Pay the nigel."

"Pause on that." I go over to the isles and pick a muslei bar and a health bar, and get a Nature's Bounty orange and mango drink. Gotta get some nutrients into me or I'll faint. Back to the counter. Marvin's got two chocolate splices, a bag of donuts and a large bag of hot chips. Dasa's standing near the door, barrel chest, baggy shorts, muscles bulging under his singlet. He keeps glancing out the armored glass at his little red bimbobox. As if anyone‘d bother cracking it. "Want anything Das?"

"Sick broh, got some Boost inna car."

"Copy." I swipe my card thru the little slot. The machine beeps, a green light blinks. My dwindling savings. We walk out.

Fuck, this is claustrophobic. Just sitting here. "You sure you got the right street Marvin?"

"Of course I'm sure!" Like, how dare you presume?

"Kay, chill" I mutter.

"Reneeeee!" Amber squeals from the front seat. They swapped possies when we got back in the car after the 7eleven.

"Sorry," Renee goes.

"Restrain yaself girl," Amber giggles. "ooooooohhhh!!!"

Renee chuckles.

"Hey like what?" Dasa turns round, grinning like the smilie man on the Toots4Life ad.

"None of your concern Das-boy," Renee says coldly.

Dasa looks disappointed.

Fuck these gasmgurrls. How'd Das ever get mixed up with ‘em? At least with Amanda I knew where I stood. Well, did...

A robot delivery van goes past. SPEEDEE KOURIERS it says on the side.

The munchies and fruit juice are churning around in my stomach. Hope I don't chuck. On top of everything I'm feeling sorta feverish. Tell you, HappyO ‘turkey sux big time. Syndorphin. It's a cunt of a drug. As old Stan would say.
"Spyder?" Renee says.

"Yeah sister," I make myself say. Last thing I feel like now is a long rave.

"How much longer we gonna be sitting here?"

"Ask Marvin, it's his bros."

"Yeah well at least I can rely on my friends." Marvin retorts.

Oh yeah. When they're not being cunts parden the expletive. Fuck I wish Doc Tom hadn't been busted. We never had hastles with the Doc. God those were the days.

Dasa breaks open a bottle of Boost. Gulps it noisily.

"Ahh," he goes at last. He hands me the dregs.

I shake my head. He hands it to Marvin.

"Thank you." Marvin gulps it down. Never known anyone who could tuck away so much food.

"Hey maestro," Renee says.

Dasa reaches for another bottle. "What ya wanna hear sister?"

"Got any classical?"

"Beethoven?" Marvin goes.

"No," she looks at him like he's mental. "Doors. Marley. Stones. Dead."

Dasa shakes his head. "I don't go in for that old stuff."

"Well see if you can find some pirate audies to download then."

"I got Sonic Youth," Dasa suggests. "That's pretty old."

"How about the Brindivan Boyz?" Proteus asks over the speakers. Every so often he (she? it?) puts in a reccie for some music.

"Not into that yoga stuff," Dasa mutters. His olds are krishnas, so he's always like wanting to get all the sex, drugs and death thrash apocalypse metal he can.

"I was referring to the band," the AI replies in its emotionless voice.

"Oh." He scrounges around for another can. "Nah. Hate "em."

"Yeah" Renee says "I'm not much into that technoambient grunge fusion shit myself neither."

"Some of their stuff's okay," Amber says.

Man when's the skag arriving? I can't take much more of this. Fuck Marvin and his jack-off contacts. "Renee, you seen my dg's?"

"They're in your pocket Spyd." She leans across Marvin, face mildly anxious. "Man you look sick."

"Good," I tell her. "I feel it." I think I'm shivering.

Renee pulls back, glares at Marvin. "Marv? Where's your dumbass friends coming with the stash?"

"Never at this rate," Amber pouts.

I sorta half groan, half snicker. What a fuckup.

Marvin crosses his arms, nudges away so I no longer feel his thighs against mine.

Heavy silence all round.

Marvin sniffs.

I put my dg's on. Proteus has changed himself into a sexy gurrl now. Dunno why he/she/it does that. For that matter, dunno what I'm doing here at all. Waiting in a cramped stinking car for drugs that'll never show. Just wish this'd all end.

Renee's voice: "hey, company."

A mean looking merc - either black or dark blue, hard to see with the poor street lighting - has pulled up nearby. License plates and model and big logo of Mercedes Benz Corp comes up over it in the ‘glasses. Operatic music comes on, Paganini I think, and a little window in the corner of the display, smiling couple in a merc driving thru countryside, rolling hills and green fields. Even when you specify no ads they still find a way around.... Fuck. We should have a Merc. Probably would have with all the dosh I've sunk in junk.

"I'll go," Marvin says.

"Fine by me." I open the door, get out. He follows. I hand him the two hun Euro. Get back in. Now I'm sitting next to Renee. Oh yeah, big deal. Hell'd freeze over before I got nookie off her. Man I miss Amanda. "Proteus."
"Yes Spyder?" Ting! ***Yes Spyder?

"Gimme a trace on the merc's plates please."

***Accessing Motor Vehicle Registration Database. accessing PoliceStar Database....Text scrolls before my eyes. I'm expecting something sus, but nah, either these nigels are clean or they simply haven't been caught yet. More prob the latter.

Renee says "whaddaya think Spyd? It'll be good shit?" Her av echos her words.

Amber turns round, elbow against the headrest. Marvin's leaning over by the front passenger window of the merc.

I shrug. "Surprised if its anywhere like the Doc's gear."

Renee looks at Amber. "Just typical hey Amb? Bet we've been driving around all night for nothing."

"Nah," Dasa goes. "Marvin's contacts're sick." Short laugh. "Only reason I hang round wiffa jerk."

"That's what I like about you Das," Renee laughs. "You've got such a noble attitude."
Dasa chuckles.

The merc's still sitting there, Marvin chatting away happily. Fuck, wazzat dork doing? Like, how long does it take to score a fucking deal already? Ah, he's coming back now.

"Here he comes," Renee breathes.

The merc pulls off. Even from here I can see Marvin's smug expression. The tension drains out of me. He's scored. Everything's sick.

"Hey man" Dasa goes "got the gear?"

Marvin opens the back door. I nudge over next to Renee. "All ready and ready to go." Marvin climbs in.

Renee's going "gimme gimme gimme"

"How many parcels you got?" I ask.

"Ten, twenty euro each."

"Sick."

We usedta get packets off the doc for five. Like a dream. I never realised I had it so good. The Doc, Amanda...My contract with supermall com a-u.

Dasa switches on the ‘box's inside light. I blink, look over at him. He's folded the front seat down and crawled over next to Marvin. Marvin's unwrapping a package of alco foil. We all crowd around. Ten small little foil packages. Little eggs. My salvation.

Syndorphin2-6-C

Dasa looks at me. "You wanna cook?"

I nod. Dasa's good like that. How he asks. But then again everyone says I got a talent for cooking.
"I can cook," Marvin objects.

"No way man," Dasa laughs. I take the foil off Marvin; careful...so careful, don't wanna drop anything, rest it on my lap. Feeling better already. Reach into my pocket, pull out a SciLabsUniversal pocket spectrometer, a pneumatic hypo, a tablespoon, lighter and a tiny bottle of distilled water, spread them out, all the tools. I come prepared. You gotta, you can't afford to rely on anyone else. The others are all leaning forward, expectant, hot breathing. I want so much to just slam that baby home. But we gotta do it properly. That's why everyone trusts me. Cos I do this shit properly. You gotta. Too much risks otherwise. First test to make sure there's no strychnine or whatever mixed in. Open a foil package, insert a tiny speck of white powder into the SciLabs spectro. Surprised how steady my hands suddenly are. Click the spectro on. The diagnostics window opens in my dg display. SciLabs SmartSpectrometer ® version 1.04. For use with SciLabs series SX-200, 300, and 400 mass spectrometers only. "Analyse." Lights and graphs come on in the diagnostics window. A single green light flicks on the spectro itself. Ting! ***Analysis Complete. "Display." Readouts scroll down. I don't understand a tenth of it, its all advanced chemistry. But the spectro's expert system can tell if there's anything toxic. Ting! No impurities found. Check another sample? "Yes."

"Sick gimme gimme gimme" Renee laughs. Ting! ***gimme gimme gimme

"Not yet," I breath. I can feel sweat rolling down my sides, under my t-shirt. Hate that. We're gonna do this right. Test another sample.

Ting! All clear.

"See I told you it was good gear," Marvin booms.

Ting! Renee's av goes, text scrolling ***gimme gimme gimme

Ting! ***gimme gimme gimme

Ting! ***gimme gimme gimme

What did I do to deserve this lot?

Bit of distilled water in the spoon, then add the contents of one of the little packages, white powder. Heat it carefully, syndorph is delicate, its not like your crap opiates. Sweat's running into my eyes. Pull off the ‘glasses and earphone. Four pairs of eyes on me. And fuck knows how many in any of these houses. Good news copy. RealCam newsbyte: junkies in the hood. Stupid. But you get beyond caring. The water clouds to just the right consistency.

"Can I have that one Spyd?" Renee asks, voice suddenly ultra gentle and friendly. Oh yeah.

"Sure," I tell her. "After me and Dasa."

Renee crosses her arms and leans back against the other door.

Stick the tip of the hypo in the bowl. It sucks the water up; it's nice and thirsty. Hold my arm out, fist clenched. I'm pretty lucky cos my boys are close to the surface, easy to find a good spot. Flick the trigger. Sharp prick of pain, little hole drilled in the surface of my arm. The hypo beeps, jackpot, caught the vein. Three. Two. One.

The
most
exquisite
wave
of
pleasure
imaginable
washes
over
me
it's
like
a
hundred
orgasms
rolled into one
a hundred christian heavens
buddhist heavens
hare heavens
n
i
r
v
a
n
a
only
there's a funny little voice somewhere
far
far
away
what's it saying?
far
far
away
silly little voice
come on man
look I'll do it
no spyd cooks it best he's the man
Dasa's big dumb face near to mine
i feel such an indescribable feeling of love for this dude. i feel so much love, it's like my heart's bursting.
So much love...
tears trickling down my cheeks.
"Come on broh quit fucking around already!"
With an effort i look down at the gear laid out on my lap.
The gear.
Yeah.

i'm the whizz, i'm the one who cooks the gear.

i look around at the faces of my friends. i love them all; they're each so special, so infinitely precious

"Good shit Spyd?" Renee asks.

Somehow i find my voice. "Oh yeah." My heart's just overflowing with love. So much love.....

"Well, cook me up some then."

"Hey I thought I was next?" Dasa snaps. Even when he's being selfish i love the dude.
Who's next?

Everyone's next.

My hand picks up the bottle of water, of that most precious sacred water, tips just the right amount into the little bow, unwraps the foil package...

i watch with awe. My body seems to work with a will of it's own. Life is such a miracle. i'm just so glad to be alive. What a buzz. What an incredible buzz.

Amber makes a tourniquet out of a hankie and a piece of stick or something to bring up Renee's veins. i just feel so overjoyed watching. What beautiful girls these two are.

So beautiful

Two angels

The hypo rams its goodies home.

Renee gasps. Her face lights up like the sun. She looks at me with such love in her eyes. Tears run down her cheeks. I blink. My cheeks are wet too. There's an indescribable bond between us. We understand each other perfectly.

Perfectly.
Perfectly.
Perfectly.

I am sure that Robert Priddy (Alan Kazlev's good friend) is going to take a liking to this article (due to his ceaseless glorification of his LSD Induced Hallucinations). I wonder, however, if Robert Priddy (the pseudo-moralist who is averse to "bad words") is going to blast Alan Kazlev for using filthy language?

Also See:
- Alan Kazlev - Sex Laden Story
- Grungy Alan Kazlev

Kazlev Alleges Google Infovandalism

Alan Kazlev's Absurd Claims Of "Google Infovandalism"
Alan Kazlev has been obsessively creating conspiratorial and ad hominem webpages against me to revenge his big, bruised ego. Alan Kazlev is upset that I have publicly revealed him to be nothing more than a highly judgmental, bitter and vindictive pseudo-philosopher who postures himself as a spiritual authority. In reality, Alan Kazlev is a grungy and lazy armchair critic who thrives on half-truths, deceptions, speculations, conspiracy theories and bogus psychological profiling to defend himself against his detractors. This webpage is just more proof that something is seriously mentally wrong with Alan Kazlev.

At kheper.net/topics/gurus/Moreno_google_disinformation.html, Alan Kazlev created a webpage where he erroneously accused me of being guilty of "Google infovandalism" (a made-up term he borrowed from Brian Steel). Alan Kazlev's severe paranoia and chronic conspiratorial mentality has fooled him to believe that I have somehow (single-handedly) infiltrated and manipulated Google's Multi-Billion Dollar Search Engine just so I could propagate "disinformation" against him and Ex-Devotees.

Attempting to bolster this asinine conspiracy theory, Alan Kazlev made seven large screencaps of Google results, color-coded them and ranted (as he often does) that I am an "authoritarian and obsessional individual". Of course, one could similarly argue (and I have) that Alan Kazlev's numerous webpages, ad hominem attacks and color-coded google screen-caps are proof that he is an "authoritarian and obsessional individual". The following screencap is one of seven that Alan Kazlev provided on his webpage against me as proof that I am somehow manipulating and vandalizing Google (something even hackers and multi-million corporations have been unable to do):


For those who do not know (and I am assuming Kazlev doesn't), vandalism is willful or malicious destruction of public or private property. Alan Kazlev conceded that he and other critics filed complaints with Google about their results and my webpages (and he even provided a link so others could make similar complaints against me). Alan Kazlev lamented that Google apparently ignored his and other critic's complaints (I wonder why?). Needless to say, if I truly perpetuated "infovandalism" on Google, my webpages would have been removed and I would have been sued. Of course, no "infovandalism" occurred because critic's claims of "infovandalism" are rooted in malicious, subjective and eristic rhetoric and flippant campaigns of malice and malignity.

Are Critics Guilty Of "Google Infovandalism"?
Let us take a look at Google's web results for my name, "Gerald Joe Moreno":


As one can see, the first 7 out of 10 Google results are Anti-Sai webpages. Does this mean that Google is perpetuating "disinformation" about me and that Anti-Sai Activists have "vandalized" Google? Using Alan Kazlev's logic (illogic), the answer is "yes". Alan Kazlev's methodology has deflated his entire argument against me and has implicated himself and critics with the very same reprehensible and corrupt behavior he attributed to me. Thank you Mr. Alan Kazlev!

The Word "Exposed" And Misleading Webpage Titles?
Is Using The Word "Exposed" A "Freudian Slip"?
Alan Kazlev said that I use a:

"monotonous repetition of defamatory labels like 'biased', 'extremist', 'deception', 'anti-Sai', and of course Moreno's favourite, 'exposed' (might this be a Freudian slip?)"

Of course, Alan Kazlev's ignores his "monotonous repetition" of defamatory lables like:

• 'narcissistic'


• 'authoritarian'


• 'obsessive'


• 'obsessional'


• 'obsessive compulsive personality'


• 'ad hominem'


• 'attack'


• 'slanderous devotee'


• 'antagonistic critic'


• 'shadow projection'

The list goes on ad nauseam.

Since Alan Kazlev admitted he did not have the "time", "interest", "inclination" or "patience" to research Anti-Sai webpages, he is apparently unaware that the word "exposed" is an oft used word by Ex-Devotees (where does Kazlev think I got that term from in the first place?). Funny enough, Sanjay Dadlani uses the Yahoo name "saiexposed420" and named his Anti-Sai blog "saibababexposed". Robert Priddy named his Anti-Sai blog "sathya sai baba deceptions exposed". Rationalists named several articles "Guru Sai Baba Exposed". Conny Larsson named one of his webpages "Sathya Sai Baba's fan Lisa de Witt exposed". Conny Larsson named one of his webpages against me "Gerald Joe Moreno - deception artist - exposed and banned". The Sokaren website named it's Anti-Sai index "Sai Baba exposed". The ExBaba website named it's webpage about the Nexus exposures "Sai Baba Exposed". The Jesus-Is-Savior website created a webpage entitled "Sai Baba Exposed". The list goes on and on. Might Ex-Devotee's usage of the word "exposed" be a Freudian slip?

Deceptive Webpage Titles?
Alan Kazlev also whined and sniveled that I deceptively titled my webpage about him "official home page for M. Alan Kazlev". Obviously, Alan Kazlev is suffering from selective reading because my webpage title actually says "SaiSathySai Official homepage for M. Alan Kazlev" (which even shows in one of his google screencaps on his webpage). If read in proper context, the "official homepage" section is specifically attributed to the SaiSathySai website. Why Alan Kazlev repeatedly misquotes my webpage title is unknown.

Alan Kazlev also accused me of "dishonestly" naming my article about Kevin Shepherd "Citizen Initiative Publishing". Alan Kazlev's relevant screencap revealed the real title for my webpage about Kevin Shepherd as being "Citizen Initiative ::: Publishing - Publisher And Kevin Shepherd". I guess Alan Kazlev believes that I am not entitled to name my webpages with relevant keywords and critics are allowed to name their webpages with relevant (and in many cases, irrelevant: Ref) keywords. Notice Alan Kazlev's hypocrisy, dishonesty and double-standards?

Google Disinformation / Infovandalism - In Conclusion:
Alan Kazlev's conspiratorial and vindictive arguments and all-too-characteristic of his narcissistic mindset and pseudo-authoritarian and obsessional attitude against anyone who dissents with him. Alan Kazlev's unsophisticated causeries resemble an inverted fairy tale where the triumph of goodness comes at the start and the ugly sisters of pretense and pettiness triumph for the final curtain. I have a problem with Alan Kazlev's blather. Videlicet, it reeks of paranoia, laziness, and hate. Simply put, if one intends to challenge someone else's assertions, one must present a rational counterargument, which I have done. Alan Kazlev provides no rational counterargument but instead creates straw-man arguments and rejoices in false fantasies of victory.

Reference

M.Alan Kazlev's Homosexual Associations

Alan Kazlev - Homosexual & Gay Porn Associations

Guilt Through Association And Homosexual Slurs:
As discussed before (Ref), I hold no ill will, unfavorable views or bias toward anyone based simply on his or her sexual orientation. In stark contrast, however, Sanjay Dadlani (Alan Kazlev's friend and associate) can often be seen verbally trashing and bashing homosexuals in no uncertain terms (Ref). Sanjay Dadlani argued that since Rasa Von Werder (a former porn star with whom I have never spoken) linked to my webpage about Jody Radzik (the Guruphiliac Webmaster), I am guilty of being "associated" with "shit and piss porn stars" and "ex-porn stars" and thus have a "shit and piss porn fetish" (Ref). Alan Kazlev argued that I see Sai Baba as a "much loved surrogate father figure" and "possibly a pretend homosexual lover". Kazlev also fraudulently claimed I was "massaged" with oil by Sai Baba.

Alan Kazlev's Direct Affiliation With A Homo-Website Promoting Gay Pornography:
It should come as no surprise that Alan Kazlev is directly promoted, endorsed and solicited by his homosexual friend (Bear Cattlisle Yawnerson) on his gay website promoting gay pornography (Ref). As a matter of fact, Bear Cattlisle Yawnerson (aka BearCY) said the following about his homo-website:

"The initial idea behind this HomoSite, was to try to mix Pantheistic enlightenment with gay pornography; in order to promote the somewhat more intelligent gay pornography to Pantheistic philosophers, and of course Pantheistic Thought to gay porn-hunters who might allow themselves to get seduced by less enlightened gay sites to label themselves as feeling «perverse», «dirty», or «filthy»; just because we happen to adore gay pornography." (Ref)

Using Sanjay Dadlani and Alan Kazlev's logic and standards (that they used against me), I think I perfectly entitled to follow in their footsteps and formulate the arguments that:

• - Alan Kazlev is guilty of being a homosexual based on guilt-through-association (thanks to Sanjay Dadlani).


• - Alan Kazlev is directly "associated" with a self-professed homosexual.


• - Alan Kazlev is directly "associated" with a website that openly promotes gay pornography for "gay porn hunters".


• - Alan Kazlev perhaps views BearCY as a "much loved surrogate father figure".


• - Alan Kazlev perhaps views BearCY as "possibly a pretend homosexual lover".

Alan Kazlev's "karmic patterns of hatred" come back to haunt him.

Reference

M.Alan Kazlev - Blogged Posts To Date

Martin Alan Kazlev: Blogged Posts From Oct 16 2006 - April 10th 2008

- Grungy Alan Kazlev
- Questioning Alan Kazlev's Redefinitions
- Alan Kazlev's Hypocrisy
- Alan Kazlev: Crank & Crackpot?
- Alan Kazlev's Fake Identity
- Alan Kazlev Was Never Trusted
- M. Alan Kazlev On Wikipedia: Part 2
- M. Alan Kazlev On Wikipedia: Part 1
- M Alan Kazlev & Sanjay Kishore Dadlani
- Alan Kazlev Scraps "Disrespectable Me"
- Martin Alan Kazlev: An Introduction

Grungy Alan Kazlev

Alan Kazlev admitted on his "disrespectable me" page that a woman named "Dee" helped him "not to look so much like a slob or an out-of-place hippy". Apparently, Dee failed:


In addition to Alan Kazlev's grungy picture, his best friend happens to be "Bonnie", a pet chicken:


Alan Kazlev took a picture of his grungy room, proudly posted it on his website and even boasted about its filth (Ref):

"Some of my room. Books, photocopies, and potted plants. Yep, my room is a mess! I have heaps more books in the hallway and living room, but unfortunately the cable on the webcam (which i used for the screen capture) doesnt extend very far, so for now there are only pictures of my room." ~ M. Alan Kazlev

Alan Kazlev is also into "hard core cyberpunk" (Ref). A random quote from his page:

"low life means that even the lowest, grottiest, grungiest characters have access to this tech. Cyberpunk stories are often set in a very gritty world of seedy disreputable characters. These often disenfranchised low-lives struggle to make a living by whatever way they can in the bleak noir future. Imagine Raymond Chandler or Irvine Welsh writing about the middle of the 21st century. That's cyberpunk."

Alan Kazlev is a "hard core cyberpunk" who apparently derived inspiration from "the lowest, grottiest and grungiest characters" in his Cyberpunk fantasy world to attack me and those who dissent with him.

Alan Kazlev is also into "images of a pornographic kind" (according to Robert Priddy's moral standards: Ref) and posted the following three cyberpunk images on his kheper.net website (among others: Ref):



Alan Kazlev also wrote two cyberpunk stories entitled syndorphin2-6-C and Hap New Year. Some select excerpts from "syndorphin2-6-C" (which is ultimately about a drug injected with a hypodermic needle into a vein):

"'Fuck!' Dasa breathes. We're gonna crash one day, I just know it...Fuck I cant handle that TrueRealityLive...The air in this bimbobox always smells of b.o. and fart and dirty laundry, mainly cos Dasa cuts the air conditioning to get more juice to the motors...excuse me, DASA, WILL YOU PLEASE TURN THAT FUCKING MUSIC DOWN?...'They're just cunts,' Marvin tells her. He looks at me, fat lips and small moist eyes smiling. 'If you’ll pardon the language.'...I just cant be fucked keying into them...Fuck I need a hit. I need my medicine or I'm gonna go fucking nuts in here...We hit another fucking speedhump...My dick's going hard again; that's how long I've been off the dorth...Vid of a sexy girl masturbating. My cock goes even harder. Lust and nausea fight for control...Gotta get some syndorph or I'll start wanking again...It's a cunt of a drug"

Some select excerpts from "Hap New Year":

"laffing screaming cheering shouting stinka sweat piss vomit alcohol emjay tripweed making my head spin hot sticky SHOOD OLE QUAINTANCE BEE FORGOHHHT this spunky topless babe long hair flouro glo-in-dark make-up mega spunky tits shirt tied in her belt outa nowhere gives me great big kiss kiss soft lips smella sweat and pheronomes grinds her hips into mine sus my dicks gonna burst thru my pants wrap my arms round her bare back pork her fuck her up the vag in the new year strobing crazy head spinning scene she laffs and breaks strobes blinks free some dude in moir jacket maybe her fuck grabs her patterns whirlings strobing reinforcing through tripweed smoke fuck this strobing everything coming in jerks making me wanna puke drink HappyO drink HappyO HappyO the fun drink where's that babe gone?...'Fuck ya ya cunt!' 'Yeah happy new year cunt!' 'Happy new year yaself ya cunt!'...I hold her hands on her back she's got the front of her OutLawz ballistic duster unbuttoned and all she got is a bra and shorts on underneath, cos it so hot and all, man this turns me on my cock's a throbbing point of agony ecstasy wanna fuck fuck FUCK her right here right this here right now she breaks away I open eyes she's all big beautiful smile sexy legs little dayglo bright pink shorts black bra big tits merges strobes into the crowd like she never was...'Fuckin slut! Whadda beed doin!' He grabs her wrist. 'Fuckin turn away two sec ya lipdockin some cuhn!' Twists her arm."

Now I know why Alan Kazlev saw absolutely nothing wrong with Sanjay Dadlani's homosexual-fantasizing slurs, perverted Jesus-sex fetish and deviant boot-sex fetish. Sanjay Dadlani secretly stalked innocent women at Middlesex University (calling them "bitches" and "sluts", saying "they want it", calling Mothers "MILFs", photographing females and teenagers up their dresses and under tables and published these photos on his streetbitches blog). This is the type of person that Alan Kazlev promotes, link to and endorses.

Sanjay Dadlani even posted on the QuickTopic Forum (using multiple fake names, including female names) and made disgusting posts under the name "Marquis de Sade" about a large penis for anal sex, a feces-covered anus, bestiality, people vomiting into each other's mouths and a Priest ejaculating on the face of a little girl as related by her brother. Sanjay even posted under the name "kick his head in" and said that someone should murder Sathya Sai Baba (of course, this is the same guy who rejoiced when a Sai Baba temple was bombed).

Alan Kazlev said that Sanjay Dadlani's request for Jesus Pornography was "no different to nurses uniforms"!

Put all these jig-saw pieces together and one is left with a very grungy picture of Alan Kazlev: A self-described "slob" and "out of place hippie" whose best friend is a chicken (that obviously defecates in his messy room) while he drools over cyberpunk-art of women skimpily clad in prostitute attire and casually dismissed illegal stalking and requests for Jesus pornography with a glib "so what?"

Something just doesn't smell right about Alan Kazlev and I think it is safe to say it isn't the chicken-droppings or his unkempt surroundings.


Also See:
- Alan Kazlev - Cyberpunk Druggy Article
- Alan Kazlev - Sex Laden Story


Reference