Friends of the SHORT WAVES
























Editor's Note: IN THE TANK is our advanced, TEMPEST-certified HEMP webspace for the secure reception of directives from our Chief Intelligence Officer, The Old Crow. TOC is also a ham radio operator, so you can trust him, he's not like the others.






TO: Mr.&Ms.HAMamerica.


NR: 003

We finally swung the rotatable curtain around towards CQanoN, everybody's favorite DEEP HAM imbed and pass along his latest directive.

The meaning is pretty clear to any Old Hand Old Man or Young Lady, but all you protest kids might need a little decoding for these very different times.

"Rosebud" refers to rapidly-acclerating climate change turning the earth into a giant snow globe, great for sledding that we geezers so fondly remember but murder on wire antennas because of the static charge buildup from caused by the falling white stuff. Word to the wise, install approriate protective diodes in your antenna circuitry to bleed off the charge or you could wind up spending this global catastrophe with no radio and what a drag that would be, eh Sugar Pop?

"Silverfish" is what ham radio does not turn people into, according to leading Reptilian Overlord/Experts. The GRRL is running a big "No Fear" myth mitigation campaign to reassure younger, more suggestable prospetive hams, and "Silverfish may be CQanoN's facetious way of suggesting that jury is out on that score. If you ask me, I've known a few hams I thought were a little silverfishy. There was a club in Massachusetts, up near Newburyport, a town called Innsmouth. That Innsmouth ARC, I tell you, a funny-looking bunch, even by ham standards. They all wore turtlenecks, and I would too if I had gills.

Finally, there's "Flying Crown." That could mean a couple of things. First, it could mean Skull & Dogbones, the Secret Society that DOESN'T pull the strings at Goodboys' Radio Relay League, DID abduct and disappear the President Ima Noh-Silverfish for not recruiting enough Live Ones to pay for new poolside oriental carpeting at the Palladian villa HQ they DON'T control from a basement crypt.

On the other hand, "Flying Crown, Flying Crown," could be a veiled reference to "Sky King, Sky King," which means no nuclear war today. Bummer huh? Looks that tomorrow's dentist appointment is inevitable.

Upshot? No need to buy milk or bread till further notice, except residents of Hawaii.



TO: Mr.&Ms.HAMamerica.


NR: 0002


Step back to ROSWELL.


1947, a New Mexico UFO crash changed everything about America, including the shape of ham radio to come.

Nowadays, it's pretty much axiomatic that America's subsequent descent into kaflooey was a direct result of that psyop, swamp gas, weather balloon or crop circle, name your flimsy excuse.

Yet strangely, through all the sightings, abductions, intimations of ancient astronauts and Beer Pong with Ayahuasca, ham radio remained largely untouched by the tendrils of all-night talk show conspiracy and dark global intrigue, much of it, more strangely still, curated by a ham operator himself, Art Bell, W6OBB.

A fluke, huh?


Step back to PASEDENA, 1943.

While establishing Jet Propulsion Laboratory, one of the founders, an odd engineer named Jack Parsons suggests a parallel Black Book lab dedicated to world domination by means of ham radio.

Parsons code named the lab AGENDA73.

Who was this Parsons? Day job , he developing JATO, solid-fuel rocket assist pods for heavily-laden WW2 aircraft. At night Parsons partied with science fiction writer/ Scientology inventor L. Ron Hubbard. When not partying, Parsons penned many letters to pal British spy and popular devil worshipper Aleistair Crowley.


And if those aren't enough ancient dots to connect, how about this, here and NOW.

How about Trump Russia Dossier NOW. Or more to the point, how about NELLIE OHR Now? Uh-huh, the wife of Department of Justice official Bruce Ohr, who worked with GPS creative James Steel, on one the documents now in play at the highest levels of our shadow play government.

Turns out NELLIE OHR applied for a ham radio Technician license and received it,the lowest level, the easiest test to pass. Her call sign? KM4UDZ.

How about that? Some speculated she might have been seeking an old school back channel for the couple's interest in many lands.

Without getting into the penny-ante political facets of this startling ham radio revelation, this Old Crow invites you to consider the bigger picture.

Ham Radio. Deep State. Russia. Mueller. Putin. Art Bell. Roswell. Jack Parsons. L.Ron Hubbard. Aleistair Crowley. And then there's Barry Goldwater, K7UGA, See what I mean? It goes on like a Mandlebrot pattern. And the closer one looks, the more it's clear ham radio is part of a very complicated, mysterious, chaotic, yet eerily repetitive sequence that bears more scrutiny than a dog track dream book.

No quick study this AGENDA73.

And given the gravity and pace of today's disturbing events,and the looming uncertainty of what lies ahead, sussing out the myriad connections, trend lines, and subtleties of meaning is now surely mission critical. And we have the assets to arm you with all you need to know.

No matter what happens out there, remember...we are in control here, IN THE TANK, working close with your ham newshound, DASH!REPORTS, so you'll be in position to make the decision.

If you need Bread, we'll say Bread.

If you need Milk, we'll say Milk.

And if you simply need a clearer picture of how current events will impact your ham radio life and times we'll say SHELTER IN PLACE, at our place, where else but







TO: Mr.&Ms.HAMamerica.

RE: The Interlopers

NR: 0001


GRRL flounder Hiham Pugsley Maxbum became a Silent Key in 1970, when "The Old Boy" and his prodigal great grand newphew Dashiell "Dash!" Hammutt were most estranged.

Typically for those turbulent times, Dash! abandoned ham radio for a dubious rock 'n roll career and his great grand uncle was convinced by a sinister force to disinherit the Dharma Bum.

That force was Skull & Dogbones – a secret society of hoity-toity white shoe hams dating back to the Mayflower. The nest of pencil-necked watercress sandwich-eaters originally infested an elite Connecticut university, but by the late 1960s they were determined to swap their college town rut for a New Ham Order, with them the boss of us, in control from Hiham Pugsley Maxbum's Palladian estate overlooking Wallkill River in Dashville, New York.

Of course, these hams were the sort of lah-dee-dahs who couldn't win a local club vote for Holiday Dinner Clean Up Czar.

So they plotted a sneaky little palace coup of the Goodboys Radio Relay League, which was then going through a bad patch like so many other Old Man Order of Bearcats fraternal organizations kicked to the curb by the Swinging Sixties.

Sadly, they set about it with great guile, skillfully schmoozing H.P. Maxbum at every hamfest, every Dayton, every little off and on-air opportunity.

They argued that Dash! was a Bad Seed and a worse electric guitar player. And that planting such a wingnut at the head of GRRL was tantanmount to naming The Mothers of Invention as its board of directors.

The Old Boy wavered.

In his heart, he knew Dash! was a good egg who in time could become a good ham again, as he was when he got his first ticket, hardly more than a child, snorting solder smoke and spitting sparks.

The Old Boy wavered again, and then shed his mortal loading coil.

Funny, papers show Hiham Pugsley Maxbum signed off with a flourish on the disheritance, all the codicils and curlycues in place.

Except one.

The last signature lacked the "Little Dashie" mark his once favorite great grand uncle first added on birthday and Christmas checks. And once Dash! got his Novice license, Unca Hiham got in the habit of adding the "Dashie" all the time.

Was it sign the Old Boy lost faith?

Or was it a sign of foul play?





TO: Mr.& Ms.HAMerica

RE: Deep Ham/Deep State/OHR What?



You always suspected ham radio was in High Hugger-Mugger, but did you ever think this Deep?

Dismissed DOJ-Man BRUCE OHR's wife NELLIE aroused suspicion when investigors discovered she applied for a US Technician amateur radio license.

That's enough to give any family, friends and neighbors pause, but when you consider her husband's awkward position, smack dab in the middle of a national security nightmare, it tells you our innocent hobby has suddenly become the tip of a very ugly iceberg.

Or perhaps not so suddenly.

Think about it. How many hams do you know who have some connection with military, aerospace, and hidden bases in Antarctica housing frozen giants imprisoned by an advanced antedeluvian Atlantean civilization?

Bet you know a few. Might even socialize, exchange holiday greeting cards, know the names of their spouses, children and pets. Funny, but it's always seemed that way. K1NSS was telling me just the other day how as a kid, he idolized a cool young GE engineer ham in his local club. This hotshot SSB operator regularly lit out for Kwajalein Island with his wicked outasight Collins KWM-2a in its own Samsonite suitcase. Worked on Nike-Zeus phased-array radar. All that old time stuff, huh? Forgive me,I'm an OLD Crow, remember?

ojfjprrpokfkwfok&#@ Uh-oh. My ENIGMA keyboard is on and off the fritz again. If I lose lock, it could give away my secure location. And this mission is so critical, and time is so tight, I must eject for the moment or jeopardize your link with the Meta Deal. You betcha. That's next level of the Real Deal.

So hang in,check back,and don't miss a single OCC. (Old Crow Communiqué)

In the coming months,you're going to be tested. And it won't be Morse Code or multiple choice questions about Smith Charts. You're going to hear things, see things, maybe tentacles at your damn front door.

So get ready.

When the heavy hammy stuff starts happening real bad, don't be that poor devil who won't know what it is.