SolarGeneral Proudly Presents...
...by James Mason
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Big Brother is at his absolute best in a tag match. So far it's been a game of "Tag! You're it!" between the Movement and Big Brother. But each time one or just a few individuals attempt to "tag" Big Brother– or, more often, either a Black or some other expendable– and then proceed to try to escape to go home and turn on their TV set, Big Brother sets his Electronic Surveillance and Red Tape Bureaucracy into motion and the result becomes a foregone conclusion. IF there had been any conspiracy to get Reagan or anybody else, we'd be GONE today! The Columbus, Ohio office of the Secret Service telephoned here in the morning after the incident and wanted to "talk". Moreover, they wanted to know whether we'd be willing to make it a dialogue. When they agreed to buy the coffee, I agreed to meet them downtown. Apparently neither we nor they knew much more about why we were there than what had been so far reported by the media. The important thing was that they knew enough about me to know that I had no connection with it. Otherwise the picture would have been a lot more dramatic. Strange, actually, why they would make a hundred-mile trip for nothing.
They were "told to check it out". Of course I didn't have to meet them but I wanted to know what they wanted to know. When it was all over they had no more than they could have gotten from the FBI or local Police. They wanted handwriting samples just in case I'd ever in the past or would ever in the future write a nasty letter to the White House. (They're obviously interested in the reckless.) They wanted to know if I used any drugs. (They're concerned with the counterrevolutionary.) As though I'd answer, they wanted to know if I owned any illegal weapons. (They are worried about the foolhardy, for, as I asked one of the two agents, "What can you do with an illegal weapon that you can't do with a legal one?") They asked about explosives. (I always suspected today's police were concerned mainly over property rights.) They asked whether we had a headquarters and I told them yes, that they were in it. (Referring to that public coffee shop we were in.) Finally they wanted to know if I had any sex hang-ups, alcohol problems or mental history. (They had me confused with the main body of the Right Wing. But I did, for the sake of clarity, ask them to describe or outline some perversions or hang-ups. They declined.) All told, they neglected to ask anything which might pertain to a revolutionary or a movement committed to revolution. I think I drank maybe three cups of coffee.
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