Monday, March 09, 2009
It was 8:45 in the morning and I was rereading old wherespmac.com posts. This isn't something I normally do, but I woke up early and was still excited over the possibility of meeting P-Mac. I hopped on the house computer and decided to use some of my old journalism skills and start scouring the net for any new, relevant P-Mac news. I ended up re-reading the old Dime Magazine article, watching all his YouTube highlights and a then I began just rereading some of my old posts because there was nothing else on the net about P-Mac.
Then at 9:00 Russ walked downstairs and said, “I have a CD-ROM of supposed CAT scans I had done in Brazil. Do you think you could upload them to the computer so I could send them to some doctors I know?”
Jesus Christ. It was way too early for this shit. I had forgotten how certifiably crazy this guy was over night.
I should probably mention that Russ claims he had a brain tumor, which was partially removed (unfortunately the surgeons who removed the tumor were paid off by the government to also install the three tracking and surveillance chips in his head which were described in the e-mail from the Wayne Sigma 116818). The government also instructed the surgeons to only remove part of it so the rest would remain and slowly kill The Chosen One.
Now Russ is on a constant hunt for doctors who are not connected to the government to provide him with a CAT scan, however this is often a problem since the government agents often reach the doctors first convincing the doctors that he is psychotic, which he really is, and that he doesn't have health insurance, which he really doesn't.
Russ finally got a CAT scan done in the States and it showed he had no signs of a brain tumor. Great news right? Until Russ told this story to one of his taxi cab patrons who told Russ of the possibility the doctors scanned a healthy government agent and tried to pass off his results as Russ'.
“I can't believe I never thought of that, it was so obvious what they were doing,” Russ told me.
Soon after my breakfast Russ came down stairs with a folder holding medical information, written in Portuguese and a CD-ROM. Maybe this guy actually went to Brazil to get a CAT scan.
I popped in the CD, waited five minutes for my computer's edition of Windows 98 to load the disc and then started pulling up “alleged” images inside The Chosen One's dome.
There were about 30 images but I only had the time and patience to upload eight different pictures. I e-mailed the images to Russ so he could send them to whoever he wanted.
Then I packed my daily necessities of an apple, camera, water and journal and headed out for the day to do some more solo hiking.
On my way out of the house, Russ offered me a sincere thanks, “I really appreciate you helping me out this morning with my CAT scan images. Hopefully somebody out there can read them. You could have saved my life.”
I walked out of the house feeling better than I ever have in my life. It's not every day you get the chance to save The Chosen One's life. I think my parents would be proud.
I journeyed to the mountain and started to really get into the El Bolson spirit as I took off my shirt and rocked around my head. It was a perfect day and I was pretty happy that I was in a great hippie town and I had just saved the world by saving The Chosen One. I didn't see anybody else on my way to the mountain or on my ascent up the peak so once I got to the top I decided it would be in my best interest to remove all my clothing and just tune into nature. It was trill.
On my way back into town I ran into my fake parents Wayne and Susan, who had just checked into my hostel. I sent them an e-mail with my scouting report of the town letting them know they could stay in my hostel, since there was a nice, clean private room available. I told them everything was great at place except Russ, who I'm still not sure if he improves or hurts the hostel.
We grabbed some lunch and I tried to tell them how insane Russ is and how much of an honor it is to live with The Chosen One. We all walked back to the hostel, picking up some local beers on the way. As Wayne and Susan were in the family room I walked into the kitchen and found Russ eating alone.
“I think an agent moved into the house today,” said Russ, confusing my friend Wayne with Wayne Sigma 116818.
“No. No, don't worry that's my friend. He's OK,” I said.
“Are you sure. He looks classic agent,” Russ said. “A little older than the normal hostel crowd. He's very clean cut, he looks like an agent.”
“Russ trust me, I have known them for a month now. Wayne is definitely not an agent. Don't worry he's cool,” I said.
Wayne, Susan and I sat in the comfortable red velvet chairs drinking beers and living the good life. I invited Russ to sit with us, have a beer and meet my friends.
“Thank you, but I'm watching this movie where this guy has brain-implanted devices like I have. I don't know if Justin told you, but the government placed tracking and surveillance chips in my brain,” Russ replied to all of us.
Not a “Hi, how are you doing? My name is Russ. Nice to meet you.” Right off the bat Russ proved his insanity.
And then my fake mother started playing along with him to the point where I had to look away and shove a beer bottle up to my face to keep myself from laughing out loud.
Russ pulled a business card out of his wallet, and began telling the story of a doctor in Southern California who specializes in removing alien-installed devices in human brains.
Unfortunately the doctor refused to operate on Russ because his device was government installed and not done by aliens.
He also explained that there are many songs which directly allude to him, if not mention his name illicitly. I asked him which songs reference him. He listed a collection of 1960s rock songs I had not heard of and he also told me Enya has written several songs about Russ. I asked Russ if he had ever met Enya. He told me he had not.
Later on Russ told me he e-mailed the CAT scan images to his taxi cab friend in New York, a lawyer he met in Europe, the double agent Wayne Sigma 116818, a female model he knows in New York, another backpacker he met in Buenos Aires, and one of his disciples, who practices holistic healing. Basically every profession in the world who was not qualified to read a CAT scan.