ALUMINUM-SHIELDED ENCLOSURE CONSUMER ALERT:

Propaganda photo of the stripped upper sphere of the Atomium, most likely shot on the Eurodisney backlot.

The Belgian Conspiracy is selling sheet aluminum to the public under the guise of raising funds to repair their absurdly fictional Atomium building (home to Captain Euro and the Twelve Stars Euro Team).

They claim the aluminum was stripped from the outer surface of the Atomium as part of the renovation and that the pieces are "souvenirs". However, this is just a ruse by the Conspiracy to get paranoids as-yet-unaffected by Belgian programming to buy the sheet metal for use in constructing Aluminum-Shielded Enclosures (ASE), as evidenced by the fact that they're now claiming the Atomium itself was a giant ASE and that they're replacing the aluminum with stainless steel, thereby subtly suggesting that the removed aluminum shielding was interfering with their mind-control, thus making it desirable to Belgian-scoffers. Devious.

Besides being excessively expensive -- a six foot long triangle sells for $1,300 -- the sheets are almost certain to contain subsurface mind-control circuitry that will not only allow signals on Belgian carriers to be conducted through the metal, but will also inductively emit a general purpose Belgian Belief Field (BBF) in the presence of psychotronic radiation -- even radiation from rival mind-control factions. Worse yet, half of the 1,000 available sheets have already been sold and are on the open market for resale.

All paranoids who are building ASEs are advised to check their sources carefully to avoid purchasing Belgian aluminum sheet. An ASE constructed with this tainted product will instead turn out to be a Belgian Citizen Incubation Pod. Remember: the first signs of Belgification are cravings for chocolate.

Good day. Mr. Zapato has graciously allowed me to post some of my articles on interesting stamps in his web-log, provided I stick to topics of interest to his readers and do not indulge myself too much with the more rarefied aspects of philately. So I fear my eight part essay on the sublimity of the common hinge is right out.

A quartet of Adeles and a 'Belgian' reach an accord to allow the deployment of psychotrons on the continent. The shifty eyed fellow on the far left is no doubt looking out for Ferretoid raiders.

For my first offering, I'd like to present a stamp from Belgium. By 'from Belgium' I of course mean printed on behalf of the Belgian Conspiracy. As my host has pointed out on numerous occasions (too numerous, I must admit -- he's quite obsessed with it), Belgium does not in fact exist. Nevertheless, their stamps do exist and are wonderfully collectable -- although I do advise being careful when handling them as their glue contains psychotropic compounds derived from the bark of the cacao tree that can cause hallucinations of being in a Belgian chocolatier's establishment.

This particular Belgian stamp (Scott #745) commemorates the decadal anniversary of the Antarctica Pact of 1961, being of course the pact between the Belgian Conspiracy and the native penguins of the antipodal region to allow the placement of psychotrons in the penguin's rookeries, to be defended from Ferretoid sabotage, so as to psychotronically Shanghai the passengers of passing tourist ships and grow the ranks of the Belgian citizenry. A mutual pact with the comical birds was necessitated by penguin immunity to the psychotronic manipulations commonly employed by the Belgian Conspiracy, the penguins having evolved a natural resistance from their eons of struggles with psychotronically adept and penguinivorous cetaceans. Penguins are delightful little chaps, but they have little native sense of right or wrong and their loyalty can be purchased in mere herring.

While of nominal value to serious collectors, this stamp would make an excellent starter for a young philatelist's topical collection of interspecies conspiracies.

That is all for now. Happy philateling!

Many of you are probably wondering, "Does the Belgian Conspiracy engage in propagandistic mascottery in Europe?" Indeed it does! Case in point: Captain Euro.

Captain Euro is head of the Twelve Stars Euro Team (also a corporate-governmental mind control organization, although they don't mention that in Captain Euro's animated adventures), whose members are Europa, the archeologist/environmentalist; Erik, the mechanic/test-pilot; Helen, the lithe gymnast; Marcus, the technologist; Lupo, the vole-hunting expert; and sentient computer/hologram Pythagorus 1. They are headquartered in the Atomium Building (a famous Belgian "landmark" that the Conspiracy claims is in Brussels) and seek to unite Europe under the centralized rule of the Belgian-controlled European Union.

They're also keen to encourage everyone to exchange their currency for Euros -- no doubt to get their coin-embedded mind-control circuitry in as many pockets as possible -- and provide a handy currency calculator.

Captain Euro et al. battle a group, known as the Global Touring Circus, that includes four goateed villains; a human cannonball who knows ventriloquism; a fashion model/mistress of disguise; and an evil, rum-drinking parrot. The leader of the GTC, Dr. D. Vider, seeks to foment independent-mindedness in the peoples of Europe and keep them from being under singular Belgium control (hence the puny name). That the GTC is a "travelling company" symbolizes the "evil" of decentralization.

21 Juli! Celebrate l'amour sacré de la patrie, Noble Belgique! Voor Vorst, voor vrijheid en voor recht! Le Roi, la Loi, La liberté! Vive Koning Leopold I! Today, the Belgian you all are! The Brussels sprouts and the chocolate por tous les peuples! You see, we exist!

[ No, you don't.]