From the official site:

Most residents of Push, Nevada simply live their lives. Some may play games. Others may sense that there is more. I would agree.

I first heard of Push over a decade ago. A colleague - who, I should mention, tends to indulge in hallucinogens, fantasy novels and conspiracy theories - ranted about it one night over drinks.

When I remained unconvinced, she sent me a copy of an old corporate memo that she had obtained from a so-called reliable source. The document presented a brief site-selection comparison that recommended Push. It was printed on letterhead from a company called Watermark Consolidated.

So what. A little desktop publishing by conspiracy theorists, I thought. Besides, it could have been a recommendation for any real estate development. The memo convinced me of one thing: that she was a bigger fool than I gave her credit. I returned to more interesting preoccupations.

However, "seeing can be believing." On an extended trip to Las Vegas a few years later, I recalled my colleague and her rant. I was bored with Vegas - after about a day of its disorientation-by-design, I was weary - and decided to leave my companions to take a side trip in search of Push. If nothing else, I'd get to look around the nether regions of Nevada, the Silver State.

My colleague, it turns out, was not entirely delusional. Push does exist in central Nevada. It's hotter than Hades out there, but the town is nice enough. The locals seem decent and enjoy a good standard of living. Sure, the place is odd, but what small Southwestern town isn't?

So I stayed two days, and met a few people. No one had anything particularly negative to say about the place - no more than in any other small town. I got comfortable with a couple of Old Timers, told them a little bit about myself and asked them whether they had heard about any experiments in Push.

They thought I was asking about the Army's radiation experiments. I thanked them, and let them know how to reach me.

When I got home, I also took my colleague out to dinner.

Whether it's true or not, my colleague's theory shouldn't be news to us these days. People drip into this world and surf its chaos. Many react to life and its mysteries by endeavoring to control them - or at least to maim them into organizational submission.

Perhaps you're familiar with this impulse. You've read the proud corporate press releases about their new "Living Laboratories." You're probably also aware that many of these efforts have historically produced unfortunate consequences, without yielding desired results. Et ecce universa vanitas et adflictio spiritus, and such.

Of course, there have been other perspectives. Some declare, "People want to be free." "Information wants to be free." And, again I would agree.

A few weeks after leaving Push, I received a letter from one of my new acquaintances, saying that he'd like to keep in touch with an out-of-towner, and that I seemed fine enough. We began to communicate sparingly, mostly with holiday cards.

In the past two years, he started to email me, and our correspondence increased. Then about three months ago, he sent me a note that obliquely referenced the question that I had posed to him years ago. It revealed that he knew more than he had originally let on: "By the way, of course there were no radiation tests in Push. That was a coy response to a reasonable question whose answer is Yes. Reservations, No. Georgia, No. Nevada, Yes."

He wouldn't elaborate, but when you see the old memo (threw my copy away long ago, but have asked my colleague for another one, which she promised to provide shortly), you'll understand. He indicated that he would explain more in the future, and that I shouldn't ask him again.

Then this morning, I received a fax: one page from a general financial ledger belonging to the Versailles Casino in Push. The cash-flow section contains an accounting error of over one million dollars (I have posted the fax to the "Recent Findings" section of this site).

About an hour later, my friend emailed me. He wanted to know whether I'd received his fax. "What fax?" I asked. His reply: "The fax you just got." With little further explanation, he said, "This is the beginning. You and I must stop now. I'll reach you."

So let's just say, up front, that my friend may simply be a bored, small-town Local who has decided to spice up his life by throwing me a red herring. Or perhaps it's a more elaborate ruse. Fine.

Having said that, I sense that my friend is not snowing me. I've decided to use my resources to look deeper, and then to post to this site whatever I discover. If there is something nefarious happening in Push, then the only way to stop it is to get the word out (you'll understand, as well, that I'm not mentioning my friend's name because I feel the need to protect my source). Sunshine, after all, is still the best disinfectant.

I hope that you'll help. If you'd like, you can email me your findings: Send links, not files. I'll take care of the rest. Moreover, the "Dialectic" section of this site links to a message board where we can both debate ideas and disseminate them -- and, ultimately, communicate the truth.