Notes From on High

Every day this week we have been commemorating the conviction of the unabomber by speaking to some of those who choose to opt out of our decaying, febrile, modern society and struggle to live alone in the mountains of Montana. Labelled survivalists by some, these unique souls keep some of the old-fashioned spirit of America alive with their quirky antics and large stockpiles of semi-automatic rifles. Today we hear from Randall Randall who dropped out of his job in the plastics industry more than ten years ago to raise beavers in the wild.

This thing on? My beard's itchy. Right...It is? Listen, maybe Toyota hasn't reached me yet but Colt has, so you'd better watch the lip...Okay. Yes, I'm wrapped up here, in amongst the mountains, to tell you a little but about me and my life. Forgive me if my words are scratchy. Don't have to talk much up here. You know? Course you do. I like you boy, you smell nice.

Like the view? Land of the free, you know? Of the brave. Hard not to think of big ideas when your life's played out against that landscape. Was it these ridges, these lakes, falling and roaring, was it the ebb and shine of sunlight across these trees that the founding fathers had in mind when drafting the pieces of paper that wrote America? Sorry, ran away there. You like Walt Whitman?

Course, I know you all think we're pretty crazy. Oswald didn't shoot Kennedy, we say, Jews run the newspapers, and we're laughed at. But it only takes a short study of the facts, done properly, to establish the veracity of these 'outlandish' views. I'm gonna tell you something. I'm gonna tell you what I say to myself when I wake up in the morning. No, I'll tell you later.

But you know what I hate? You go, you walk through your lives as if you can't see it coming. Jesus! I step out of society for 13 years, step back in for a day last September and Armageddon's started. I knew it, I knew it, I told you so. Go on, call me crazy, see if I care. Won't matter nothing when the bombs start falling. Then who'll look...never mind, I'll stop myself there. Osama? I'd join in the clamour for his capture but I'm a little sensitive about knocking people who live in caves. God, look at the trees...I could cry.

Woah, don't agree with me so fast. I haven't expressed myself with anything approaching a proper level of articulacy. How could you possibly know enough about my opinion to agree? No, don't worry, I'm just polishing it.

I'll tell you another thing. We got rid of religion but we're now wandering around lost cos we don't know what to do on Sundays. I don't just like Jesus because we share a big, black bushy beard. Organise your religion and you give biscuits to perverts. Lordy, lordy, I could eat that sunshine. Don't sit there, it's dangerous.

You stil want to know? 'Every day I'll kiss the flag and kill a commie.' I've got the tattoo. But taken out of context that probably sounds pretty offensive. Do you want a coffee?

NEXT WEEK- We ask a rape victim to give us her fashion tips.

What do you think, did we get it right? Comment here...