The REAL Origins

Oh, wild card, I see the years of fantasy abuse have taken their toll on your memory, and your perception of reality.

The beginning was not 1996. 1996 was just a ruse. A convenient scapegoat from the troubles which hindered Double Down during those dark, dark days when The Macarena could be seen on the street corners of any major city. Double Down lost his left eye in a Macarena dance off just days before that fateful 28th Annual Convention in Atlantic City.

At that Convention, my soul was as empty as my eye cavity.

I had searched for a time for the "before." Life is measured by turning points. Benchmarks to which one can point. "Aha!" moments which allow us to organize our ideas into before and after memories.

Weeks before the dance-off, I had awoken from a coma which caused complete and irreversible amnesia. I had no before...only after. My life had re-begun, and the convention saved me from the permanent existence of nothingness. The meaningless nothing of not even knowing if I was human...was I born or hatched? Am I the second coming of Baudelaire? I had no evidence, only suspicions.

However, it was not until I went to the palm reader on 18th Street, NW, in Washington, DC that I was cured. A quaint little neighborhood known in those days as Adams Morgan. Dame Vivian was her name.

She taught me about life. She taught me about love.

We would crochet place mats while she told me why I existed, and then...she was gone. Floating away like so many dandelion seeds. I know now that I was meant to meet her and bring this news to all of you.

What she told me was revealing and frightening, but also filled with hope.

We are intergalactic travelers. We chipped the nose of the sphinx. We put the crack in the liberty bell. We pissed on the Great Wall of China. We picked on young Jesse Christ (as he was known in those days) until he grew mentally strong enough to lead a movement. We taught Sun Tzu about war. We taught Shakespeare how to read and write. We taught the white man how to infect Native Americans with small-pox to complete their manifest destiny.
These memories may have flashed in your minds as dreams. Waking reality convinces you that they are mirages...but as you read this, do you not now know that what I say is true?

Oh yes, 1996 happened, as was prophesied. And we are here again, our purposes unknown and our meeting seemingly fortuitous. It was not. We are here for another great task, as we have been every previous time - and it shall be revealed so very, very soon.