Dear Peggy and Paul,

Dear Peggy and Paul,

Much of the writing I have done over the past year, 305 days, has been
done online with the surity of a mental audience that part enabled some
nature of it. You certainly are not expected to file as you have in the
past dealing with a program that makes it harder, and when now exists. I think that it does help me though to focus when I go ahead and cc because of an image of you intellectually, combined some with Skip Battaglia, and others there that know me in a certain way.

So forgive me and feel not obligated if you get a cc filing. If you
have or have not done so, I do not entirely know. I did get great
satisfaction seeing your links to and my address on all
pages. My reasearch into Docutech Xerox machines finds that for me to copy out a complete well done paper copy of my writings would be difficult and expensive.

It is a technology that needs some sheparding and however it exists in
White Plains and Rochester is of interest to me.

Xerox ought to hire me to help them get the thing going right with
Kinkos, but they can get the reasearch for free as it is posted. The fact
is that if I had a complete paper copy I and Nancy Alex could more perfectly organize and edit it. When Ed gets back from Miami he might talk me through the whole thing, but if you print out a copy and send it to me I will send you a t shirt for sure, or even money.

Designs of Transcendian money would be cool for the citizenship
package. I once designed a dollar that had space men on it. I can’t find

Since my marriage I have had some desire to live a bit longer to
accomplish my goals.

Today I got made the first of T Shirts with the Transcendian flag on the
back. 2 were made, plus Girl Dog Truck, – Success.

Nancy Alex is out shopping for shoes wearing one of the T Shirts in
public, and I can’t wait for her to return and tell me about her adventure.
I’ve got some shows on Public Access, and one of them stands up damn well, could be an HBO sort of thing like the show about Vinyl I watched last night. A truly disturbing piece I made about my adventures living in motels.


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