Apparently, the magazine cover convinces Syd that Sloane's not batshit crazy anymore, nor is he a sadistic son of a bitch. I don't know WHY the magazine cover would convince her of that; I mean, Saddam Hussein's been on dozens of magazine covers and that don't make him a Catholic schoolgirl, right? Oh, whatever. Sloane's about to tell us all about The Telling. Remember that thing? You know, the machine that Sloane gathered all the parts for, killing many, MANY people in the process? Yeah. That one. You'd better hold on tight. This is one serious pile of horseshit coming up.
Sloane's all, remember the Rambaldi device? Yeah, well, I put the thing together and it delivered a message, just as I predicted it would (you sure you don't want me to read your tarot cards?). "But I wasn't prepared for what it said," he explains. "The message was just one word -- one simple word. 'Peace.'" Oh, fucking hell. It was not. The dude runs all over the world, chasing after parts and machines and serums and a bunch of other outrageous crap, and kills tons of people, all in an effort to put a machine together to deliver a message, and all it says is fucking PEACE? Oh, fuck THAT. I am sorry. That machine better have pressed his trousers, cleaned his car, delivered a piping hot cup of cappuccino AND cracked into the Federal Reserve if PEACE was the only goddamn message it was going to deliver. I mean, please. The Dalai Lama's message is peace too, but at least you don't have to KILL people and ASSEMBLE him in order to hear HIS GODDAMN MESSAGE.
In a nutshell? I believe that the Rambaldi machine's message was peace about as much as I believe that Nicky and Paris Hilton have a combined IQ in the double digits.
Sloane blah blahs about how, once he got the message, he went all goopy and rethought his life and considered all the bad shit he'd done. And this made him go to the CIA and give them the information, and that info enabled them to dismantle over two dozen terrorist cells. Well, so, of course the CIA didn't incarcerate HIM for resisting authority or for being an anti-government agent, right? No. They gave him his own company and told him to start saving the world! One. Child. At. A. Time.
Ring ring. "Hello?" "Hi, is this Sally Struthers?" "Yeth." "I'm sorry, am I bothering you?" "Nohh." "Um, what're you doing?" "Eating fourteen Ding-Dongs. How can I help you?" "Oh, you can't, really. I just wanted to let you know that there's an evil dude with a buzz cut over in Zurich trying to take over your job as the Queen of Children's Charities." "The what?! He where?! I'll just -- gawp! GAWP!" "Sally? Sally? Are you okay? Raise your arms above your head! Somebody do the Heimlich! Help!"