"Without just cause or reason, without legal or moral justification,
and without a threat of proof that Iraq directly threatens the security of
the United States, the Bush Administration has headed to war. As I am writing
this, bombs are raining upon the defenseless civilians of Baghdad in a
continuation of a policy that has already claimed the lives of 1 million
innocent Iraqi people. People just like us who want democracy but find
themselves cornered by a dictator on one side, nakedd U.S. aggression on
another, and the oil beneath their country; for which it appears they are to be massacred.

Lies, sanctions, and cruise missiles have never created a free and
just society. Only everyday people can do that. Which is why I'm joining the
millions world wide who have stood up to oppose the Bush administration's
attempt to expand the U.S. empire at the expense of human rights at home and
abroad. In this spirit I'm releasing this song for anyone who is willing to
listen. I hope it not only makes us think, but also inspires us to act and
raise our voices."
- Zack de la Rocha

"Artists, be they painters, actors, writers or musicians, have a
responsibility to reflect and interpret the world around them. Our current
administration's foreign policy strikes me as being reckless, inhumane, and
hopelessly out of step with the so-called "values" it claims to defend.
We, the world's only superpower, have immense capacity to ease human
suffering throughout the world, yet we instead choose to inflict it upon those we
deem a threat to our agenda of empire.
As an American, my government's actions give me cause for great concern.
I'm proud to support Zack de la Rocha in giving a musical voice to that concern."
- DJ Shadow

Terrorism:

  • The unlawful use or threatened use of force or violence by a person or an organized group against people or property with the intention of intimidating or coercing societies or governments, often for ideological or political reasons.

    Terrorist:

  • One that engages in acts or an act of terrorism.

    Terror:

  • Intense, overpowering fear.
  • One that instills intense fear: a rabid dog that became the terror of the neighborhood.
  • The ability to instill intense fear: the terror of jackboots pounding down the street.
  • Violence committed or threatened by a group to intimidate or coerce a population, as for military or political purposes.
  • Informal. An annoying or intolerable pest: that little terror of a child.

    The scene opens up today with the internal time clock program loaded on Dorito's multisync computer monitor screen. He watches as the second hand ticks away at it.

    Dorito: Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. How many times have I heard this said? How many times have I heard this said against me alone? Time is ticking away until the moment comes that I will prove you wrong and beat you. Yada, yada, yada. It's all the same from everyone. Time is ticking down, so you remind yourself everyday, but it really isn't. Time is an abstract concept created by carbon-based lifeforms to monitor their own on-going decay. But that isn't quite true, is it? Does a tree need to know what time it is? Would a chipmunk have to know when it's 11:30? Does the lion at the zoo even think about hitting snooze to catch a few extra Z's? Does a star need to know when to rise on any planets it may have? No. Does any of that matter? No. For something being so important such as time, the only lifeform of any kind that it matters to are humans. Why? Because this is a programmed society they control. Everything is catalogged, dated, checked, and passed along as an event that happened. There is a need for measurement so it can measure what to do and for how long. But the chipmunk doesn't have to start eating at 11:30 or be going to sleep, because time doesn't matter to it. Same as everything else mentiond. Doesn't matter to anything, so hence it is created. Time is but a function. Machines have no real need for time, just people.

    Dorito clicks the keyboard and the clock program closes, disappearing from the screen.

    Dorito: I have no need to worry about time. Just like the Good Ol' Malinko and Peccant are not worrying about having to face either me or Pain Express at the next big show. Why worry about something that may not even come your way? I've beaten Peccant when he's at his best, and I'm sure Pain Express could as well. Ah the eternal struggle between good and evil. But how is an old man considered to be good when he starts a fight by attacking you from behind?

    Dorito pauses as a sort of buzzing is heard, and he glances over for a few seconds, then looks back at the screen to continue talking.

    Dorito: Yes D, there's no way Peccant can beat you for the title. No way. He can't beat you, period. Took him, and a bunch of his sequestered friends to put Matt down, and me just happening to be there to be the ref. This good guy had to lay Malinky out just to changed the odds from 100:0 to 99:1 chance of him standing a chance. While Slinky Malinky may have a concussion and possibly a more bobbly head than D'Lo Brown, he's got the anger. No, it's not anger. It's pure, unadulterated hate. Slinky's gonna put Peccant back in the hospital, and put his pal Midge' in with him. Even if there are four guys on the outside of the match who are unhappy after fighting only to have the opportunity stolen from them. So if anyone is wrestling Malinky for the shot of being named number one, then that must mean that Slinky should be number two on the contender's list, until monday. Peccant took something from five people tuesday night, and those five are going to take his career and life away from him. Then there's Wind and Excidium. The games keep going and going as the Cause loses ground everyday. Although they somewhat remind me of DY with the sex humor, but they don't have the capability to take it to a higher level. Wind flies with greatness, and everyday he's told to step away from Missle and go his own way. To walk away from greatness.

    The buzzing of a fly is heard as it sweeps past the scene, Dorito catching sight of it for a second before losing it in the darkness of his bedroom.

    Dorito: While Bizkit in NCW was labeled as greatness from his past in this company, I was never on his side. I wasn't with him so I couldn't walk from his greatness. But I took from him what he felt made his greatness, his caring wife Ana. Then I guess he fell apart sometime later as apparently he held and lost the TV title to Pain Express, as my opponent this monday said. Like I knew that? Like I even cared. Cable television wasn't really available in solitary confinement at the penitentiary. Matt Helmsley, like Bizkit, began to circle his life around the world title. Matt was good, wanting to be great, but I took it away from him last july when I took my sister back and out from under his spell. What's happened since? He's crumbled. Fallen to a point he's never been before, and there's no one there to pick him up like Alicia would have to be doing. That nerd of a brother of mine was considered great by some, five star match after five star match and entertaining like no other, but I walked away from him. Then I turned back and showed him what I'm capable of.

    Dorito suddenly jerks his head, hearing something, then looks back at the screen as he pulls up the Win Explorer folder screen.

    Dorito: Wind, don't walk away from Matt. Learn what you can from him, but remember that he knows what you're learning, so if you try turning against him, he'll prove his greatness to you. He's done it before. My only question is, why make an impact, when you can cause armageddon? And thinking about armageddon, that makes me think of my tag team partner monday night, the Crow. We've been on opposite sides for a long time. We may still stand so on some issues. Speckled jawbreakers are better than plain red ones. And the refs outside the ring are not a team waiting until the very end to get in and throw us out. Or how many Gods it takes to screw in a lightbulb. Loud, angry discussions over disturbing conflicts like these that may result in windows being broken, holes put in walls, and the occasional loss of voice from screaming over this may result. Sure some people may think any conflicts between Crow and I would be over something like simple things like storyline ideas, promos, the maelstrom being a leftover part of the World created where the garbage of the universe is stored inwhich would make the almighty God of one and only who contains so many different voices and is claimed as the property of every individual person a basic garbage man slash administrator of the program somewhat like seen later on in .Hack//Sign, or something like who can beat up who. But it's all misconstruen. A lot of guys in that ring who are going to want to take shots at us just for who we are, or what we're known for. Kronus, this monday you can do something that you have NEVER done before in your entire life. Yes, something that you have never done. And that is to hold WorldWide Championship Wrestling Federation tag team gold.

    Dorito looks at the belt sitting on the floor with a post-it note on it reading "Polish me! ~Alicia" with a weird smiley face on it. He shakes his head side to side for a couple seconds, then looks back at the screen.

    Dorito: This world title means nothing. So many greats have stated not wanting it. It's like Steve Corino telling how the current NWA doesn't care about it's world champ, at least before TNA. The belt became just a prop. And now smaller, faster, daredevilish athletes steal the show. Missle, Sonic, Bizkit, Wind...they are what fans are looking to see. But I'm taking and taking from them, and everyone else. I'm consuming. I'm learning. And I know that this title has no meaning in it. However, the tag team titles do have meaning. And to hold the title belt that I used to polish for Sonic while I traveled with him in the old WorldWide group, to hold that title again...I know what that title means. I held NCW tag gold literally longer than anyone else in that organization did. Everything I fought for NCW, I felt. When I fought in that tournament a month ago for that piece of crap, and I won it, I felt nothing. Well, there was something, but it was knowing that Matt was to be mine. And this monday, Crow, I want the tag team title. I want to hold that title once again. I trust my own abilities, but I want that belt. That's where half my greed lies this monday night. One ring with plenty of friends, associates, enemies, and others, extras, if you will. As much as a fight with enemies may cause for elimination, fighting with friends may allow the extras to put us out. The last time the WWCWF had a battle royal for the tag team titles, David Cote won when he was one of the last two, and that idiot sibling of mine thought he won as well but got thrown out last. I know Sonic's mistakes, and I'm not going to repeat those. Half my greed lies...

    Dorito types something and Pain Express' official website begins to load.

    Dorito: ...homepage of the Indiana Terrorist. Trying to crush me between the front of his car and our rental was an unlawful act of force. Monday night, I'm just doing my part in fighting terrorism.

    Dorito hears the buzzing once more as he looks around for several seconds, then slams his hands together.

    Dorito: People kill flies because they're pests, they're annoying. Sonic was annoying, he was a pest, so I killed him. And Pain Express has become quite annoying lately.

    Dorito leans down, and wipes his hands on the world title belt, spreading the remnants of the fly over it. He then sits back up as the camera zooms in at the dirty, and now bloodied championship title, then fades out shortly there after.

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