Jan 14 2008


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Only a few know the true identity of the Mind Scalpel. Suffice it to say that he’s got a Secret Plan for Global Domination, but in the meantime he works for the defense of the United States; he’s also a lot more handsome on the internet than he is in person.

He expects to blog until his writing about personal matters reveals his true identity and he is ridden out of town on a rail.


People are starting to ask me questions. Rather than dial in their coordinates to my tactical nuclear missiles, I have decided to exercise random munificence and actually answer some of them. Then I’ll nuke those impertinent fools.

Where do you get your ideas? Do you copy them from other sites?

No, absolutely not. To avoid even inadvertent plagiarism, I live deep in an underground bunker on a remote island without an internet connection or electricity.

Then how do you post things to your blog?

I have a pet vole that takes them up the airshaft to a carrier pigeon that flies them to a secret data entry point and pecks them in.

How do you do hyperlinks, then?

I have very smart carrier pigeons.

Okay, are you “The Mind Scalpel” or just “Mind Scalpel”?

Both. Neither. I am large, I contain multitudes. I would say this doesn’t matter, except that I’ve seen fist fights break out at comic book conventions over whether the guy with the cape should be called “The Batman” or “Batman.” Okay, that’s not quite accurate; I initiated those fist fights. But, anyway, I suppose it depends on the method of use. Certainly in addressing me directly it would be mildly awkward to use “The” (e.g. “Hello, The Mind Scalpel, how might I do your evil bidding today?”), so that suggests you should use either just “Mind Scalpel” or, more preferably, “O Great Future Despot.” Yeah, that’s more pleasing to the ear. Go with that.

When referring to me in the third person, either “The Mind Scalpel” or “Mind Scalpel” would do, provided that it is accompanied with a hushed tone and a fearful glance around before talking. I’m always listening; ECHELON‘s a crude network of cans and strings compared to my surveillance operations.

So who are you?

Not telling. No way. Nothing could pry my secret identity out of me.


Okay, fine. I’m really Donald Rumsfeld.

No, seriously.

As far as you know, I am serious. Who else do you think takes others’ questions, reformulates them so that they’re easier to answer, and then answers the distorted questions? Things have been slow since the whole SecDef thing.

Look, no one can conceal their identity on the internet forever.

True, the better approach is to pollute the true information with lots of false information. So: I’m a twelve-year-old boy! I’m an 88-year-old grandmother!

Ha! I’ve determined the truth by averaging all the available data together! You’re a 50-year-old hermaphrodite, aren’t you?

Oh no. They’re on to me.

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