DEATH ON THE BOOBA TRAIL

Rachid, alias Richard, is no longer with us. My Fez informant confimed his passing away just before my departure. What was first diagnosed as bad indigestion by hospital officials, turned out to be pernicious poisoning. The sardines were fresh, as Tanger has them from the sea to your plate, so something must have been fishy with the bearnaise, something that wasn't called for in a stomach-friendly recipe.

In view of the danger I seem to have gotten myself into, once again, I prefer to inform you of my whereabouts only once I am no longer there. Makes sense? Well it will have to do. What is so important about 2D and 3D that people are to give their lives, unwillingly I presume, so that they are never found? That's what I'd like to know too. Did D know what was in store for me when he sent me out on this mission? Is the cause in proportion to the risk incurred? I'm beginning to get a tad shaky in the knees and...Why am I doing this? I'm beginning to comprehend the full depth of inshallah!

Rachid, by the way, was an old acquaintence of our Richard's, el hamdo le-llah. They'd met during the hip 'n' happenin' days of Tangers. Too bad I never got to talk to him. Or, maybe I did without knowing it?

Otherwise, let me tell you, this is a beautiful country so far: rolling hills, cedar and pine forests, majestic mountains, lots of agriculure too (I now know where they grow all those plastic bags), the medinas are a nest of life, etc, etc, etc. But seriously, they could solve the unemployment problem here if they set people to clean up the towns and fields.

Well I gots the runs, so...
Yours faithfully,

Jack Stack.

TANGER-DANGER

I'm hungry! The lead on Ali Booba is taking me on a starvation route. For I am presently in muslim country, right at the peak of Ramadan. Out of respect for the natives, and great fear of being lynched, I too am not eating. I also have little choice : no food is served anywhere from sunrise till sunset! What could be worse? What could be better, I say. It's an all night food fest. Couscous and tagine galor! I can't tell yet whether it's a great new way to lose weight or a one way ticket to obesity. If my regularity ever comes back - the johns I've visited are in no way an incentive for relief - I might be in a position to conclude on that. I'll keep you posted.

This ancient spy nest still smells like an old extinguished reefer, but, lucky for me, its network is still intact. I can't say for sure I comprehend fully how it functions, 'cause whenever you have a problem here there is always someone to help you out with everything you may need - except that! But a note did make its way into my room, so somewhere along the line I must have over-bakchiched the right person. I will leave tomorrow.

It isn't difficult to understand how this place, Little Socco in particular, inspired the likes of Tenessee Williams, Kerouac, and the Rolling Stones. A dark excitement roams here like...like...like the afterscent of...yes, an old reefer - chocolate, they call it here.

Hasta luego, inshallah!

Jack Stack

THE LEAK

This has nothing to do with plumbing, or inner tubes!

I have it through the utmost secret sources that the sneak who made that comment about the Barlin posting was none other than, and get this, the infamous agent Bell Bottoms. Well, one more puppet I'm gonna have to shake, rattle and cut loose from it's strings.

You sense the kind of danger I'm in? It's enough to make me want to leave the country again —make that the continent!

Toodaloo,

Jack Stack.