SO Gay
You probably don't have a whole lot of experience with being apologetic for lacking in empathy. Consider your present experience to be a fine time to check things out.
The following was written quite a few weeks ago. This g*y was supposed to be representing my interests. Well, this person didn't bother to take the time to be aware of what my interests actually were. What my interests ARE. And since there was quite a lot of interest in this circumstance... no one could possibly understand what would develop from their actions.
"Excuse me, sir... would you like to help you and your friends surrender all your goods and property in exchange for a temporary pleasure -- and then, a complete lack of any satisfaction and accompishment while multiple hundreds of nameless, faceless, anonymous robo-creatures ceaselessly reduce every healthy component of your world into ash? Only to be replaced by total garbage?"
Yeah, see... no. I was never doing what anyone thought I was doing. And when I explained... no one listened. For many reasons, chief amongst them: YOU PEOPLE HAVE NO OPSEC. And those who did have any, well, once again: they have no idea what I wanted -- what I needed -- to get done.
It is inevitable. I am at YOUR rock bottom, you twerps. YOU see me as never improving. I see myself as ETERNALLY PREPARED.
Yeah, my posts are quite long, aren't they? So. Fucking. What. Pack a lunch and get to work. I am not your slave. I am not your teacher.
I AM YOUR LAST GODDAM HOPE, BELLGAB. And, why not? Who you gonna call? George? Senda? I don't think you have thought this through. Look:
THE FEDS HAVE EVERYTHING. THEY HAVE HAD EVERTHING FOR YEARS.
YEARS.
THERE WAS NEVER ANY OTHER OUTCOME FOR ANYONE ONE PLANET EARTH... THAN BEING HELD ACCOUNTABLE.
THOSE DUDES THINKING THEY GOT AWAY WITH SOMETHING, DID NOTHING OF THEY KIND.
THEY SIMPLY LENGETHENED THEIR SUFFERING.
Meanwhile, I'm not as good as I could be. However, I am not as bad off as someone who is sitting in goddam prison. Not fun. Imagine, being fucked off and alone... forever. In prison. With imposters taking over your home, taking your family, eating your food, burning your wood, and no one believes you... because they beleive YOU are the imposter.
It's happening to everyone. TO EVERYONE. And, you were all so kind to me when it happened.
And now, I am not reincorporating... I am a kinder person.
I am doing the same I always was. I am researching occult technologies, and implementing new ones. What are you doing, Bellgab?
Well, you're not doing a real great job of controlling the Narrative, I'd say. It might seem that way. It's all man behind the curtain stuff.
First they laugh.
Then they ignore.
Then they complain.
Then they assault.
Then they destroy everything, and leave everything the blackest it has ever been.
Then YOU FUCKING WIN.
It's not easy when you try. It's easy when you do not try.
There are TEAMS OF PEOPLE HACKING MY PHONE. Hey, nice job, Bellgab. How about you knock that shit off?
You all seem to think that I am doing something wrong. Well, you are all fucking stupid on that one. How am I not a good enough victim? Oh, right... you all knuckled under. So I should too.
This guy down here thought so. He was the "defense attorney" that was assigned to me. He was like the THIRD dude they saddled me with. I didnt want him. I TRIED TO GET A REAL ATTTORNEY. This was MADE TO BE IMPOSSIBLE TO DO.
Do you get it? I WAS NOT ALLOWED TO DO ANYTHING. And... they thought I was actually culpable of something. Hey, surprise! I'm not.
Consequently, corrupt elements in local government are currently facing prosecution themselves.
This dude I was wriring to down here? He was "questioning my competency." Oh, really now. What they were really doing was looking for any.... ANY excuse. To get me homeless.
To take my shelter. To drive me from my land. Let me guess. Sounds like a good idea... if I were some kind of dick, right?
How do you know I am? Have you talked to me?
How do you know you have takled to me? DO YOU KNOW THAT MY DEVICES ARE COMPLETELY INESECURE?
I have NO EXTERIOR ACCESS TO THE WORLD. Not digitally, anyway.
you are living in an imaginary world. My life has been fully, totally compromised.
That has changed recently. The tide is not merely turning. It has, in fact, TURNED.
So. WHat do you people do? Whine about attention whoring. Well, that's one person. Who else?
Where did they go?
Think about it. What is going on?
There is no "I"m ratting you out! I'm turning States!" No, they aren't doing that.
They are systematically eliminating humanity. They wonl't do it, of course. But it is what is happening.
Is Trollda even human? Well... were they ever?
Does Trollada wanna talk? Explain? Obviously not.
Well, that's not up to me.
It's up to The Court.
READ. STUDY. DIG. MEME. PRAY.
And if you think I'm doign something "wrong," considerer the Source.
because I'm doing alright enough. COuld be better.
I could have a partner. EVERY TIME I GET ONE, THEY KILL HER.
Hoowever, good news. I now have 3 people who are on a rotation. Now, I don't know what being Dead is like. However... most of the populace doesn't know either.
The "defnse attorney" I am writing to below, was actually THE PROSECUTOR. He was pretending to be "helping" me... and then? WENT BACK TO WORK PLASTERING FALSE CHARGES.
He was eventually tracked down and charged. I'm sure he's not pleased. Well, that's too bad.
The wheels of Justice grind slowly... AND, YET THEY GRIND TO DUST.
I knew all this was happenining before I met Grapefruit.
It was like she fell into a conveyor belt in a toy factor. I said, "You're not seriously goign to do that, are you? Holy shit. You just did. What are you doing?"
"What?" Grapefruit said, cheerfully swilling down buckets of her own bullshit story. "I do this all the time, it's fine," as I watched her... well, whatever. She's coming out of it. Everyone is. Either going in... or burning out.
Going east... or going Dawn.
Some of you have no idea what happened to the people you knew. But I always knew.
This is what they did from the very begginning. I've watched it my whole life.
THEY ALL BOUGHT THE HYPE... AND USED THE HYPE EVERY DAY.
Think about it. Why did I become persona non grata? What did you hear?
Everything you heard about me, was actually done against me. BELIEVE IT.
You watched me doument it... and for along time, this case has gone FEDERAL. And it was long before they took out Grapefruit.
They took out 3 others. FOR 15 years prior.
You think it so funny. And it is! Funny that you think so!
You were meant to go along with it all. And for the most part, you have.
Murders have begun to happen. MURDERS OF PEOPLE SPEAKING OUT. Low-hanging fruit, of course.
And yet, I remain.
What do you think, I'm doign it? lol. Fat chance.
I am here to accomplish my mission. What do you peopel think it is? To have sex?
Been there. Done that. And you assumed I was like you... sexually driven and ensalved to addcition.
But I'm not. How do you explain that? Oh, right, I'm blocked. I''m psoting to Africa, for Christs sake.
I'm not here for attention. I am here to document the events.
I had nothing to do with this. I am one person. And you... you all...
you aren't canteloupe. You are DEA dears caught in the headliight.
Every bag is my last. And eventually, it runs out. Do I care? No. Becasue I am not addicted to this shit. But the drivers of the wold, the movers and shakers... THEY ARE.
These chemicals worK NOTHING like you've been told. NOTHING.
Meanwhile, some bitch who swindled me out of a bunch of money and left me to die... is STILL runnnig around here doing her nonsense. I couldn't bleeve it. What the fuck? WHo has this kind of time?
Well, read things. I have to go pleasure myself to completion and consume my essenece. Imagine that. If I -had_ too. I don't have to. I am merely fronting.
The probelm is way worse than you have been told. For one thing... my GF and her mother are fighting over me. Again. I thought they had this settled. Well, you know how dames are.
Why fight? I don't care to be monogamous. Well, lol, that' a' good question. You'll see.
People are FREAKING OUT. Because it turns out, people have been misled.
About many things. And simliarly... I had been misled as to the nature of my "public defeneder." No, he was defending the police. And he did. And then... they notifced the gangstalking.
Like... .a lot of it. Hrrm. What? Why? well, I don't know that eitiher. But this shit snowballed a while back.
IT IS HUGE. And there's a new network. Imagine that. Were is CIardelo? Praise Jesus! I still don'lt okno which one that was.
But MV is completely jammed up in investigation for, among other things, CYBERSTALKING, IP THEFT, ELECTRONIC INTRUSION OF A COMPUTER NETWORK FOR FELONIOUS PURPOSES. MULTIPLE COUNTS OF FELONY ID THEFT. LOTS. IT HAS GONE RICO.
i REPEAT. THIS SHIT HAS GONE RICO.
And this is not "hunker down and it'll blow over goddam you Jackstar. I didn't do this. I had no part in your shit.
AND AFTER WATCHING ME FOR TWO YEARS.... THIS HAS BECOME COMMON KNOWLEDGE.
As has my special cicrcumstance. It's special, alright.
You know what I am writing is true. GET TO WORK.
If I told you who needed your help, you would just shit your pants and start gibbering. Let's say it's me. Help me, Bellgab. Help me help us all, because I will do that anyway.
Help me or or don't help me.... either way: GET OUT OF MY WAY. *clobber*
TIME
I don't get a chance very often to do my soliloquies--and if you would, sir, please, would you kindly:
I don't really take orders from you, sir, and if you sound like a prison guard, I'm probably going to get the idea that is where I am. I would like to remind you that in the interest of benefitting the community, I have decided not retain either outside defense council or civil council, as I feel that concerning myself with monies that I am owed as a result of this incident is pretty much gilding the lily.
I consider each of us to be lucky to be alive after that night, and while I may certainly be overanalyzing, the fact of the matter is that something exceptionally unusual happened that evening, it had been planned in advance, and by mother of miracles, we both emerged relatively unscathed. It could have been far worse. And in addition to how pleased I am to have saved her eyesight, I also went to custody that night rather than her, because I had a hunch that it might not have gone so well for her had they taken her away.
I walked in the door and the woman in the kitchen turned to walk towards the refrigerator, and her eyelids fluttered and rolled visibly... almost as though they were jackpot slots. I have read of this before, I have seen it happening before, and while I don't plan to write a jingle and shout it from the corner of Madison Square Avenue and Marvin Gardens.
And I will drink under the table and fart on the head of anyone who disagrees with the wisdom of telling this story. It's a great story. It has a happy ending. And if it is your legal position that I oughta be hush-hush about any details of this case, why Sir--those are the details I'll be focusing more in on. How is it, you initially got all riled up about my appearance at all... and then, I appear, and it's somehow a question of just the right amount -- in between and of -- and a little skosh of, "wow, this part was really cool, I caught me a military Jezebel asset with a clitterdick as big as a flounder!"
I am of course exaggerating for effect here. I don't think she has a clitterdick anymore, as it was clipped, and I don't know what name or appearance the woman I loved and loved most is using these days. Now, look here, Son--I'm not looking to make your job harder and I am certainly not in favor of oversharing classified or confidential details. Certainly not in public. But here we are in semi-private, James, let me give you a spot of a hot tip.
You don't need to be Brutal Atticus Finch. I do, in fact, respect you, I respect The Court, and I acknowledge that I have a carefree, sing-song, artistic demeanor, and that some may say such a demeanor is not appropriate for Court. Well, this isn't Court. It's 3 people. Of course there are eavesdroppers (Go bears!) but unlike some, I have no problem with my full experience going out.,
Sir, it is not my responsibility to concern myself with the vulnerabilities of others. And certainly, you may be right, you are aware of MY interests, and you'd like to protect them. N'est-ce pas? Well, protect them conversationally. You're "protecting" me from a woman who I used to share a bed with, her underwear is in the closet next to that, and you know what? I probably do want to break up with her. Or get back together. Or what have you. And the version of "protecting" has been total and complete no, on any voice comms? Not even a wave hello on a Zoom, huh? Let me guess. UCMJ rules apply and the boss of her personal person, which is OWNED U.S. MILITARY, he decides, right?
Look, I don't even mind. But it really accentuates the ridiculousness when a simple observation is made, and you suddenly pipe in like you're Indiana Jones' French Bulldog guarding the last splinter of The One True Cross. You know what might work better? A gentle cough. If even that. Perhaps a silent prayer? "Pleases don't let my client *cough* embarass himself too much." How much is too much embarassment? Because I witnessed a man introduced to me as her childhood friend, dressed up in an ill-fitting Deputy's uniform, I saw this man with my own two eyes, sir, arrest me, confiscate my 3 day old $699 phone, and stand about 15 yards away with a buddy/friend and watch me piss myself while we waitied for it to be time to go into the jail. "Door bell is busy."
I really don't mind any of this. Actually really flattering. Especially the making me piss myself think, that's an honor ritual from the glory days. Clothes come back clean, laundered. My Wedding Fork was stolen (or just thrown away) and, look, I'm not upset about any of this. This has to happen. She had to get gone, and I had to be... treated like garbage and toyed with while being barked at for a year and a half since. I mean, yeah, you sure showed me. (Didn't do much for getting me to speak less words, but, hey, guess what--when that is important, I'll probably snap to, P.D.Q.) The basic point of the matter is that it doens't help me any to get hollered at like you're the headmaster and I'm the naughty boy with his hand caught eating the paste.
I have graciously allowed you all this time and space to find out the root of the matter, and... that means that even if I am not, I am prsesuming I am innocent, so, hey, why not you do the same? And, hey, am I saying information that someone else would like kept quiet? I care a smidge more about their needs than I do mine, but even then... not much at all.
And while you may think me of obstruction of justice by the court to, I don't know, arrest all my friends and confiscate their phones too, it's just plain like this: in 18 months, you've gotten this far, and in the first six months, you didn't do anything while I went to parts of town I never went to and asked interesting questions, and then I waited patiently. After six months, starting june 1, I started asking REAL questions of people, and within a week, I basically knew all kinds of stuff. Sir, I am not boasting.
You don't need to know what I found, naturally, but you surely don't know everything relevant here, which is that it would be a good idea to get that woman into some counseling for an eval, i don't know who handles that, but I will be frank. You're not doing me any favors by imaging that she or I are not professionals at what we do, I don't know what we do, and now what I do is this: don't let things get any worse.
My thought was that since this woman called for help, you could actually help her, and if anyone is gonna care whether or not we are "together" or not, it's gonna be moot, because this woman has brain damage from cortisol flooding her brain tissue during times of high stress, and i don't know what's going to happen if I were to, say, take another lover. It's been a really long time since I've seen a girl at all--now I suppose if one of these broads starts foaming at the mouth when I spurt, I guess you'll know which is which.
I don't think it's gonna work that way. And I certainly won't intentionally have a trauma-inducing experience, I'm not sure how I would do that, but for example, it would be in very poor taste to scream out at point of orgasm, "ALLISON FRANCIS SHAW (look I even know her real name, Sunny Jim), TEAR DOWN THIS WALL, THEN PROCEED TO QUADRANT A-25 AND SCAN FOR SURFACE DWELLERS WITH EXPIRED LICENCE TABS WHO LOOK LIKE THEY MIGHT BE SMOKING A DOOBIE. TARGET THE DOOBIE AND DEPLOY FIST KNIVES, THEN COUNT TO THREE AND STAND BY." This, of course, is irony and satire.
It's also a matter of which I know very little about, but I am absolutely certain that my life is impacted from this event in ways that The Court is welcome to impose. It's been kinda fun. I learned a lot! Wow, I had no idea some of this stuff was happening! Cool! Oh, that explains that! Wow! Hey, did you find the hatchet I buried in the ground behind the bird shithouse? Tell you what, you know, I haven't really given you credit where it is due, but, I don't know if you know how to read embedded code key pass words in conversational emails.
And, I don't give a flying wet fart at a rusty windmill if either of us do or not. First of all, as a servant of the public trust, when you in your official capacity choose to curb the speech of another, it's certainly a wise plan to have a good reason for doing so, should one be held accountable. Now, I won't be doing that at all
The only person I plan on being held accountable to and accountable for is myself. Is that woman my common law quasi-wife? Is she a concubine? Which tribal affiation? Hey, guess what, we don't have to answer those questions today, praise Jesus, and we won't have to, because I think I can just declare that she's kidnapped, or being held as ransom, or maybe she can be counted as a genie in a lamp. Whatever. Now, THOSE are the kinds of statements that would be meaningful to remind me to not speak on--and if you can do it without the not-very-slighty at all supers-smarmy tone, so much the better. For anyone listening. Because the truth as i see it is that we're all very lucky that i look a little bit like a loon, just a touch, as that distracts some from other, more lunatic notions, and plausible deniability might end up being important here.
Even if I were to be out of line today, Sir--and I frankly don't believe I am--sneering at me hardly accomplishes much. Firstly, it is energy that I must ignore, which is difficult, as you actually are good at that touch of a dig. So much the better were it to be appropriate. For today is the first time I've been talked to at all about that traumatizing evening. Questions about courtroom procedure, eh? I don't remember many of those. And as for the discussion of the details of the facts of the case: well, we're all covering for a bit of something here. You and the judge you get paid to, and that's cool, "cover" isn't the word. In my case, I do it for love of country and the females, ALL of them, whosever they may be, and as I am not a military service member, I don't care to describe the alleged victim in a singular address, unless I feel inclined to do so, and as I said before, if you as House Dealer/Prosecutor has to reach for Snide Librarian Tone to remind me to hush my biscuits, well, *ahem* I don't have respond to those *quiet down* signals well, largely because I don't operate under your authority or jursidiciton, Sir, and while I certainly do respect you, you are not the boss of me.
That would be cool though. I would be honored to actually be in line in your area of influence. You obviously have a bit of a background in some personell directioning and control, and you have practical experience at that. That is irrelevant, given that you are not the boss of me, as I am not the boss of you. We are not equals, certainly, but I would say we are on something of an even plateau.
Except you bloody lot are getting paid salaries, and i am not. You have telephones that are not under military command and control--or, they might not appear to be. Et cetera. And you don't have 4-7 of my girlfriends in my past, joined together in a mini-missy-thuggy-wee-wee-little-piggie psyop team, trying to run game on your life against, oh, Lord, G-d only knows who. And so, in light of that, I think it's highly likely you might not wish to tip your hand in any direction. I mean, why do you suddenly care about my interests? Oh, and suddenly there's time for an interview. Why, fancy that. Did an angel get its wings--perhaps for the first time ever? Did a coded communique get sent to Prague? Or Venice? Ah... Venice.
It fills me with delight to now that the Great County of Cowlitz and/or Coolidge is johnny-on-the-spot when it comes to hard-hitting scheduling alerts that conveniently produce actionable intelligence right when it's needed to be. I don't know if the FBI Cyber Crimes Division is still paying attention --why wouldn't they be?-- but that is truly getting off into the weeds on that one. Also off into the weeds... the notion that you have taken two and two together and made it into, "Mr. Kuczi, fourscore and 23 skidoos ago, our Pimpmaster Rex and his Whoremonger Ed. I. Puss brought for on this continent a new nation, with new fast-tracked greyhound lightning racetracks, and...": excuse me, SIr; are you writing this down?
Do you have a pen and a piece of paper? Okay, great: frame it, it's worthless. Seriously, a year and half and I see no help from anyone on what's missing from my life, what's happened with her administration of things thereof, et cetera... and that's really okay. I don't mean to sound like I am complaining. In fact, I know that often times what is telegraphed is not what people mean to convey. (And speaking of which, thank you for allowing me report in by Zoom, as I would have been perfectly happy seeing you in person--I'd probably have less stage fright--and then, we could, you know, pop off into the hall water closet for a quick rubber duckie under the Cone of Silence. You know what I mean.) For example, I would have liked to have been there in person so I could... report a stolen vehicle, which last time I was there, I was given to understand would be a fateful choice? Well, who knows what I might htink on any given basis. And i just realized today, oh yeah, there was that time she stole my bottle of Beefeater Pink while she had an ankle bracelet on. It made no sense then, and still doesn't, but, I realized why a spooky Agent Thuggy might do that... to create parallel diagnostic tracks for chain of custody evidentiary.
Sir, what's nice is that as a member of a special social status class, I am an ordained minister, I am an astrotheologian, since 1997, and it is not that big a deal. But there are a couple unique advantages, in that, I don't about a lot of these details that are important to others, and I can simply trust G-d and pray that your attention is strengthened when it comes to redacting documents. Hell's bells, Sir, I know you know better than me, which "facts of the case" are more relevant or sensitive than others. I'm not saying that what I'm saying is relevant.
But I will say what I say, and silencing my speech, oh, goody! that's so pleasant to feel the weight of. I remember the first time I recognized that I was being held incommunicado... that was in 2022, do you remember that year? I think it was The Year of The Rabbit. Oh, that takes me back.,.. and, I think you get the picture.
I truly believe this can be resolved effectively at the appointed time. I'm not even in a hurry. I don't even need to be broken up with her or not. However I have no idea what she would prefer in the future, it is absurd not verify such details after a year and a half, and shouting your non-applicable ordering Command Tone just ain't gonna fly, Cap'n. For one thing, a man of the cloth. For another, I'm a citizen. In addition, i'm not one of them sovereign citizens, Jesus is my soveriegn. Damn, I can't figure out how to spell that word, perhaps I will get me a sovereign secretary.
The great majority of that last paragraph is irrelevant... and that is the part that makes the relevant part exquisite. In any event, I'm not seeking to cause disruption. I am seeking to help things along by herding us along in the direction we need to go. For example, are you gonna keep on letter get smacked up all the time, or, is she gonna wanna do 90d washout? If so, I would love to start that at the same time, solidarity and companionship is key, and while I don't -need- to do a washout in a hurry, as I'm not in a crisis, I would like to get on to that (preferably with as many Shaw women as can be arsed to look at a clock long enough to time a whale spout to go off in line with passing phalanx of eagles) when it is appropriate to do so, for while I can keep up with the lady in question i the past, it wouldn't do her much good if I wasn't also sick to death of it at all, and as I don't insist on the simultaneous start to the timing, I will point out:
I probably wouldn't want to start smack at all, but if we were in the same place and she wanted to know I could handle it, I might as well. She and I are both qualified for that kind of thing, although... I don't know who makes the decisions for her. In any case, I am content to stand ready as before, and while it's totally 'dorbs and homies from kindergarten are ready to take over and get me out of the way, conveniently at Christmas Eve, well that is thoughtful, the reality is that it's not that big a deal to me either way how this ends up happening, as if she wakes up 3 weeks later and suddenly remembers me, well, guess what, Princess calls her Daddy, and perhaps I get my phone back, or whatever, and whatever the heirarchy of thuggery that surrounds this woman, you know what? I am not in charge of what happens with Ms. Shaw, nor do I hold pretense to claim to be, unlike some extraordinairily special K "arbitrary deciders" who probably, you know, ought to be looked into for Abuse of Power, Unlawful Imprisonment, oh dear G-d, see, this: I don't want to make anything extra complicated and I can't imagine any new eyeballs doing anything but that.
It's probably worth it. So. Being dismissive of my interjections when they are, in a real sense, part of my role here now, and are also, First Amendment protections that afford me the right to experess myself freely. For I can assure you, I am aware when I go into the land of extra irrelevancy. I'm not even saying that I don't need your points. In fact, I do.
Identifying the crux point where you might happen to have skin in the game is not why I am here, but, that would be fun to do. I am not really at that in this time, however. What excites me is the notion that.. you might have noticed, I went from moving in to a new city, eager and fresh to be productive, and since then, I've... done nothing at all, really. Thank G-d I haven't been doing hard time, 18 months, I could have learned a lot, but no, I'm just learning about important family type stuff, and how to fit in, and how to be respectful... how to keep from alarming the neighbors, and to play against type or into stereotype. Now, its not for me to say what Ms. Shaw needs to do or not do, and I do not, in fact, which one she being is, whether I wanna see her in an email ever again even, or in person, or with her trophy head mounted on the wall. I'm open to The Court's decision. You know morre about it than I. For example, I only know three of her husbands, and let me guess two of them are DP on her right now? Ah, yes, I see here from telemetry that they are. Rock on, Jocko. *ahem* Now, as I was saying... I'm not giving any conern about what or who is things that are to come, because for example, there's no universe where her 4th husband twice removed comes into this house and suddenly lives here, and there's not a day that goes by that I don't think of her occasionally, especially since the house has been overrun by talking elderbugs --they speak jazz-- and it would be nice if I could ask her about that subject, and in point of fact, I don't know if any of this house is even worth saving. And I do not need to know this all in one day.,
But someone will need to know it, and I am here to inform you: Mr. Goodman, in many areas, neither you nor I are in charge of what happens with Ms. Shaw. Of course you and I may bluster about and make our pronouncements. They mean nothing. In some areas, notably those of native plants and grasses on this property (it's a teeny-tinyj reservation. It's got a bathtub outside. It's got a little rubber ducky floating around with a Barbie doll dressed up as Pocahontas on its back. I think it is immensely stupid--even stupider than you do, by a tough country mile--but nevertheless, some of these traditions, I have found, really ought to be maintiained) will get their way via the use of fungal blooms, and that one even happened inside the house. Suddenly, out of nowhere, seemingly, but in the corners of the rooms where arrays or fruiting bodies where aligned, ready to go... they went opopoppop, like tiny little firecrackers?
Except they exploded with spores of molds and fungus, and within ten minutes, I felt like I was gonna die. I went to sleep. Did I die before I wake? Hard to be certain, Sir, it still looks like Hell, but, earlier today there was a substitute history professor who seemed to think that if addressed me as "Emperor Douglas Hardest Hennesey, Esq." that I would be more inclined to more strictly inclined to follow his explicit directions.
It seemed a good notion in theory, My Good Man, but... I won't lie, after a few minutes of it I had to jump and put an "AUDIT ME" sign on his forehead and another reading, "ASK MY SISTER ABOUT CELIBACY" on ths back, and that cleared it right up. I may have been following his orders like an orangutang riding a unicorn-themed unicycle, in the Astral plane, right? Not sure, I don't go there, but some people do, I've seen home movies. Slides. LIke those Magic Viewer things, I think they were called? In any event, USMJ appies for a variety of reasons, &:
I HAVE ASKED ABOUT A DOZEN TIMES ON WHO THE LEAD INVESTIGATOR OF RECORD IS, AND MYSTERIOUSLY, IT WOULD SEEM THAT I AM UNABLE TO BE HEARD ON THIS POINT, AS THE THING TO DO AT A CERTAIN TIME--WAY, WAY BEFORE NOW, SIR--IS TO SAY SOMETHING AKIN TO, "I AM SORRY, THAT INFORMATION IS NOT AVAILABLE TO YOU, BECAUSE YOU ARE THE CHOSEN ONE, AND YOU ARE THE PRIME SUSPECT IN MY AUNT'S PUNYLING SON'S STOLEN CAR CHOP-SHOP RING, FURTHER, YOU'RE THE DEFENDANT IN 73-79 MORE ASSAULT IV CASES THAT ARE ALREADY PRINTED OUT AND READY TO DUMP LOADS OF PAPER ON YOU... I MEAN, WE HAVE HAD TIME, RIGHT? TO WRITE DOWN LOTS OF NEW "CRIMES"?
LIKE, FOR SERIOUS: LEAD INVESTIGATOR IN CHARGE. Is he or she and owl? Who? WHo...? Is there even a lead? Is it a gator wearing a vest? Now, let me guess, you're used to talking to a real attorney about this kind fo thing, and it's way easier that way. For you. Hey, I remrember when I had a real attorney and he was just ... gone, after y'all gave yourselves a six month conitnuance so you could... ah, perhaps, whitewash your records. None of that is unusual. I am not even complaining. I am in great admiration of The Court, and how they done did things... and then, they done did fire my attorney, FAILED TO PROVIDE ME ENOUGH TIME AHEAD TO ACKNOWLEDGE AND REACT TO THAT UNEXPECTED CHANGE, and i do not complain about either, Sir; if it were crucial, I'd have heard a ringtone from The Divine, one that would sound a little bit like a tiny Gabriel's trumpet, blowing a few bars of, "I left my obviously fraudulent statements made to 911 dispatch over the phone on Christmas Ever after 90 minutes of waltzing back and forth getting as many angles on the echoes as possible so either one or both of us can be made to seem either victim shamed or assailant lamed, depending on Company Needs on Company Time, in my music box heart in San Francsico," which if you can at all arrange it, play it for yourself sometime, bang it out, get a pair of spoons and spank them on David Lee Roth's shiney whiteboi ass. He's an American icon. He's a legend.
And he has mythic resonance. Now, that's a euphemism. And the reason why today's lesson is so lengthy and pointed, sir--is that you've had aaaaaaaaaample time before now to do something like this, and that was not quite the competency that some of us were looking to evaluate today, n'est-ce pas? Well, it's like this:I wished to make sure we got my good side.
I wonder if there could have been something coincidental about the timing of the evaluation of my competency? It claimed to show up in my email some five days before I noticed --I have far too many pink elephants to blow their trunks for me to have time to bother reading messages from imaginary Internet people who consider themselves "Espionage Casual," and for those who are into "Casual COINTELPRO Cuntryday," (really every day up here on mil.spec corridor land) I had not, in fact, ever met Ms.Foster before, and I found it remarkable that after six months, I come into Court, and find my other attorney JOE KACZMERAK, he gone, right? Okay, buh-bye. Oh, hello, Ms. Foster, what are you good for? I mean besides looking cute?
I mean it some. It could be I am being held under entirely inhuman conditions- it's ludicrous, utterly, and speaking of, the neighbor next door? His dialogue and his dialect are out of character, frankly if he's a neighbor civilian neighbor, he's way too jumpy, and if he's surveillance man, lead surveillance gear, he's still too jumpy, as for example, his personal comfort (arguably none of my concern at all, honestly) does not come ahead of my 1A rights, and in spite of how ruff and grough he can give it out -- I do respect the man, it's not like I thought he was even there -- I could not give any more than a hill of squat about him hearing my voice a little too loud. HIs attitude came on hard, heavy, and... well, you know what, he seems tense about something, and not that I mean to tip anyone off, but I think we are all pretty tense about something. I, delightfully, am not particularly tense, since, I'm okay either way without how "Assault IV" shakes out, and there's "Assault IV-D.V." goes, and if there was a third woman there? I odn't think that one stayed long, for as i disarmed her Huntsman's Blade and left the house to bury it properly, I might have heard a little slrupy swish as one was sucked away by a hypothetical portal, and another darling down the line, popped in to take her place.
Sir, I don't know how it works, and I don't really care how it works. Whatever works, it does work, and it might work even better when I am no logner here, and then you and her Angeiic hosts of Guardians (sometimes visible? /shrug), they can live in here with toxic black mold and an obnoxious, pushy, offiiciously studious Long Wolf of a man -- I do like Shane, he's a strong man to have watching that wall... and it would be great if he had told me anything that was necessary to know, upon moving here after months of exile, however instead of providing a structural framework to place narrative context around descriptions of historical events... he just kinda smirked and grinned and acted silently smarmy in a very effective way.
I won't lie, some dialects are more descriptive than others. And I get it: oh, sure, you get to know, I do not, et cetera... because suspecting this, and finding that, on and on. What you don't know is that I love that; that's why I picked this place and had you all wear your best civvies while you admonish me for, what, I have no idea, other than indicating to, oh, I dunno, some random passing cherubim, that... uh, I forget.
I will be honest,. I don't know who all this is for to directly. Fine by me. I am directed by Spirit to do much, and in the recent past, I've seen quite a few order-takers being directed to do a lot. Not sure who took all these precious stones around the place, for example curious about my I-90 sign, my father's guns.... several other things, And, at this time, I am not fling anyting stolen, other than my heart, because when I saw her last, and she said to me with surprise, "You're not supposed to be here!!" I first said... "Well, who is the decider of who is 'supposed' to be here?" It was funny. We both knew it. She still started crying though, because of course, she hadn't told me much long before, and I had asked other questions, and I guess when a person is given Authority to tell lie after lie without their pants setting on fire, sometimes one can go too far, because it is pretty sad, for if she had told me, well, I don't know, but telling lies to me and the truth to other people must have sounded like a great idea up until the part where she remembered that I had warned her, and, I was right: one day she was gonna wake up, and next to her find me gone, and in my place, find some (PROT) who (Blanked) her. Who 'was' supposed to be here, as it turns out.
I am not gonna laugh too much nor at her, certainly, but... well, I hope her mother was there so she could tie her ankles together with one of those cool load-bearing knots like they use in the theatre. I don't know if that would be relevant, but when it comes to who is "supposed" to be there, I'm going to agree, that in that instance, the dude with the load-bearing penis who had known her before I met her, I think? Look, whatever, it's out of my hands! She called for police help, she got police help, and while I may seem very immature and grotesquely irresponsible, once I placed myself in jail, I knew it would be a matter of time before some who were and are respectful of my personal space, would show up to cart and haul her ass out of town.
Seriously, do not get me wrong here, it's a little cultural game the Algonquin play, and I'm not trying to be disrespectful about it at all. I'm quite relieved given that she already wasn't my problem, and now she really won't be, given that, depending on which individual is meant? I might actually like him better, and I can't rightly say I have an opinion on which one to start with.
That being said it's a year and a half later. Sir, I defy you to consider this as appropriate circumstances, as I really would like to move or sell or do SOMETHING other than sitting around trying to blend in with the local color. (I think it would look suspicious if I went out and did any gardnening.) It's not up to me what gets to happening, you see? but somethings yes, somethings no, I don't have the time or space to enumerate them here, and now that time has passed on a year mark, and I've been coldly dismissed as an unknown, if any, amount of good,... well I am ready for a while. And I have been competent today. Tomorrow looks good as well.
And in exceptionally competent fashion, lookee here: mental state and facts of the case addendum. You, Sir, of course know what to do with this -- circle the wagons, ahhhh -- but given that I neither know nor care what the sensitive facts are, it hardly matters whether I pick or choose... what matters is that someone is not paying attention to.... uh, something
Ahhh. And with that, thank The Creator, I've run out of steam. I would imagine you thought it could go on forever!! No, that's your lifespan with all this extra time you have bought... uh, "whomever," which is fine with me, of course. This whole insipid EMERGENCY charade --sprung up on me by complete surprise when I surmise, CORRUPT DEA PERP THUG #1 informs A.F. SHAW that WAS ORDERED AND DIRECTED TO send me up to do something stupid involving a whatever, I find this out, I spike the concept entirely, like I imagine something like this is gonna happen someday, and I know the rules, and even if the request passed muster? She had been deceptive and un-full-truth-telling for a while, and... apparently married to some DEA UBERPIGGYBACK NAME "MIKE", and I GO BACK HOME VIA CIRCUITUOUS ROUTE, so I can not be anywhere near this screeching hellspawn She-Devil, for she was, at the time, being harassed by PARTIES KNOWN/UNKNOWN on HER STUPID iPHONE THAT SHE BOUGHT HERSELF BECAUSE SHE WAS TOLD NOT TO TRUST ME, like how the fuck any of those goddam moronic windbags thought that cutting me out entirely from any digital forensics fingerprint, like I don't need to know where she was, and I was unaware that it was considered dangerous to have contact with the friend/lover of FIVE YEARS, and hey look, SWITCHING IMEIs, I don't know what happened when, but, hey, my name is MIke, and his name is Mike, and he got married when, and the witnesses are when, and this happened why? hey Greenhorn: it's not like this has never happened before, n'est-ce pas? Now I happen to like a few of her friends, so switching him and I so she can get to somewhere safe was a good idea, oh, let me guess, BEULAH IS AN ACOMMPLICE which is unconfirmed but she sure smiled her face off as she assured me that I totes needed to be totes elsewhere, which is just what I thought when I left THE CONTROLLER OF THE EXPERINCE's place, which I didn't really like there, as I could tell, it was a house for liars, so I leave, I go towards CORRUPT DEA PERP THUG #2, because I think he can perhaps provide some insight, such as, what do you think is going to happen is probably not, because I stood shiva on his doorstep for a hot minute, I overstay a bit, not major, but still --over. And then I do not remember if I took the ferry or drove around, I think I drove around, and I park at the house I grew up in,LAKE FOREST PARK, I spend the night texting until all my batteries are dead, and all my phones are run down, and I go to sleep, knowing that no matter how she is tracking me, according to the telemetry at her disposal, she was gonna have to wonder if I'm where I am or where he is, because I fell asleep and woke up in daylight and even MY CAR BATTERY IS DEAD, which is a big deal, because, oh yeah, wired for GPS, it would have been nice if she had shared that to me too, and I somehow leave, and go back "home" to 8808 Barnes... I get there around Magick Hour, an hour or so before sunset, you dig? And I have nothing but love for her and all this is for buying time, which for my money, is the best flag I got around. I certainly don't care which Uberspook she's "really" married to, maybe it was that 8kun-hound who lead the strike team on Chrismas Eve? (Classy move, btw... I'm circumcized and a part-time Luciferian, so... go mirth bears.) And it may sound like I am compensating or bargaining? No, not at all... I was prepared for her to do something other than totally stupid and easily detectable drug running, right? And how this D55 thought they were gonna get going, well... he didn't expect me to make it easy for him, hehe.
So one killed (sniper hit? plausible, or it didn't even happen), one left here while I went to lockdown, on Christmas, yes they had this all planned out! And D55 and the 3rd (HER), I have seen 3 in one place before on rare occasions, not just dreams, but not often, of course. As a scintillating rainbow being of no small stature, I honestly couldn't tell anyone how it works or operates, but her people, The Algonquin People, are reasonably special. And the very notion that I would "forget" about her without a word? GARBAGE. I suppose if there is a protocol that means I have to be voice-isolated? Really? Who signed it? Fine, I'll sign it again along with a copy of my speedy trial waiver, HONK HONK. In any case, it is easy enough to disguise my voice for now, and, once again, I'm basically calling a wellness check. Not the first time. This is not an attempt to contact anyone, oh, and, by the way: It's been 18 months.
And, you can't bring your evidence to trial? Well, MY GOOD MAN SIR OFFICER SIR, note that I'm not gonna bark at you, but... uh, yeah, you do kinda do have to dismiss, given that you are, uhm.... what's the word... dragging your feet a bit here, Sir? Up to the judge (ur honor) of course and I mean not attermpt accelerate any reunion. Is there going to be one? /shrug I don't know, it's not really up to me, unless in which case, uhm, yeah, this is a fabricated cover story of Biblical proportions, and, Sir?
How can you expect to be taken seriously? Obvious attempted kidnapping is obvious. /shrug I mean, yeah, extenuating, yeah, mil.spec, yeah, "her husband," and oh yes: wow are you biased much? It's cool, I dig it. I actually know at least one of them,. and I'm not looking to get exclusive access to myself, but note also, someone is, and I'm gonna love cross ex-aminging Beulah, The Middle-Aged Teen Age Mutant Turtle Head Poking OUT Face, because I promised I would make her and her lovey dovey housey mousey goddam famous, and, lo! I have done so.
I do not declare a great deal of prose writing to be comeptent in and of itself, however... well, Albert Camus wrote The Plague that way, so, unless we're gonna be re-pubbing this in the yearbook, I continue to judge myself reasonably competent in this condition, and would not say that this is appropriate often. Nor even at all. But--I can handle it, and today I chose to.
Immediately after being declared competency, I'm gonna slam some LSD, KETAMINE, (some classified stuff too), AND SOME POCKET LINT INTO MY CAROTID. THEN I WILL BE READY TO CROSS-EXAMINE (Y/N)?
No. The answer is No. The above is too much emphasis, this one is not too bad, and it does take more energy to figure out how to type like this. Not recommended.
But, I didn't want to ruin your birthday, Your Honor, so, to mark the occasion of my competence -- I am assuming -- I did the whole birthday present I set aside for you. (Not really.) Bon appetit.
(*I'd like to point out that, since I find out that she was expecting me to bring something back, after I was released from your quite impressive County Lockup facility, since then, I've done nothing but... well, look around town trying to find it, you know, press the flesh, grease the palms, hump the yachts, and in the last year and a half I have not found even one crumb!
But this Diet Dr. Skittles w/Pepper Sauce makes a lovely garnish with this tranquilizer for horses that are kinda hoarse and don't horsey so good, when the day comes to demonstrate competency, right? Well, this was on purpose, so... let me ask you something.
AM I COMP'd PEE TENT? As for certain, I am not looking to make contact with this half-blind, full-retardo snowshoes'n moccasins wearin' cheerleader and part-time hosebeast gasbag... Lord, that sound even worse all written out than it did last night in that dream I had of her, where she mentioned that it's odd that she's not gettng any kind of care other than HEROIN AND ISLAND RIGGED BIGGER PENIS THAN MIGHTY MOUSE but not by much, okay so in her dream, like, right? Seems like she's not doing much. In irl reality... probably a bit more, right? And maybe it's fentanyl in the dramamine. I have no way of knowi---oh, it's in the Ovaltine. Maybe? I don't really care.
However, 18 months with no health check-up is some bupkis, Your Honor, Mr. Prosecutor, & Madam Clerk. I think we would all agree. Also it looks like the prosecution is just sitting down and fiddling. And with respect, sir, Sir, SIR: I suppose if that's all you got some free time on your hands, if you could report my father's guns, my mother's jewelry, all my PlayStations, and half a bottle of Beefeater Pink that A.F. Shaw stole when she was at my house doing her home detention -- of course she was drunk on home detention, and I can prove it, effin' bet me, Babey
Not sure why that last one is relevant but I'm not mad at her, and never was. I figured out her last tell, she opens the floodgates when she has told every lie she knows and only knows one truth left, and it's called Special Consequences, she says she's afraid of tellling me the truth about anything else because she is afraid of home detention again, awwwwww, she's crying now, that's so sweet, she should cry. I bet home detention sucks.
I mean she can't' teleport to Starbucks, or McDonald's, or Wal-Mart, or my house, or my other house, or my be.... oh, I don't have a bedroom anymore because they are both filled with toxic black mold that was planted here to kill me in my sleep while I slowly die. Jokes on them...
I arranged to die all at once so I could be in Heaven with A.G. Shaw (second cousin twice removed from a dolphin, equally hot, equal teleport power;; Go Navy! /shrug) and then we can have a tea party while I wait for one of two things to happen:
Either Hell is gonna freeze over or you're gonna call a witness as I wanna know what this mutt you got who says she is A.F. Shaw says, lol, and if she laughs at "mutt," just wait until you laugh at what I say to Mr. (Anonymous) the next time he tells me that it's time to shut down my 1A Right for some reason, dunno what, but something that has made him bark like a dog, grrrr, ruff! woof! woof! sit, ubu, sit! good justicar... huh., Good question.
Your Honor, what is the difference between a Justicar and a Prosecutor? Can I swap them next time it comes up? I like MY GOOD MAN well enough but he said that all this was a waste of his time, and, I am here to tell you:
Nope.
Semper fidelis.
On Tue, Apr 18, 2023 at 10:11 AM Goodman, James <GoodmanJ@cowlitzwa.gov> wrote:
Meeting ID: 495 177 9297 Passcode: opd2023
--
Best wishes & warmest regards,
MCK
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