Even though I'm afraid of the number, I'm going to make a phone call to area code 866 in a couple of minutes, for the purpose of getting a dial tone and wireless internet service in my new home.
Back in January, I wrote this about the ominous area code 866, and now, here I am about to call it. This reminds me of Room 101 in Orwell's 1984. If I'm not here tomorrow, you'll know why.
This is the heart of Area Code 866. I know the Book of Revelation says the Number of the Beast is 666, but St. John the Divine got it wrong.
Simultaneously with controlling all activities in the public sphere, the computer system at Fort Knox eavesdrops and keeps an eye on everything everybody is doing, all the time.
The only way to get away from it is to load up a backback and tent and hike up to a higher elevation in the heavily forested Olympic range, and survive by living off the land. But even there, a spy satellite or Department of Homeland Security helicopter might spot you in a clearing.
I can't cite any sources for this information, which I learned from transmissions received via my tinfoil hat.