I hit SUBMIT knowing that my attorney would be advising me that it would be unwise to post his publically
I'm tellin' ya: he gets seriouser and seriouser, each time I talk to him. Did I link this place to him? I might have. Whatever. Of course he knows about this place, the flood of revelations that can be expected once the gates to knowledge bust open... thankfully, most of them have little to do with me.
And, just five minutes in Photoshop will change that. Fortunately, having posted video of The Dragonlord, and having rolled around town enough by now to make a distinct name for myself, it will probably be difficult to make a complete frame-up job stick.
This time. Another op's time will be made manifest. Why, after spending an inordinate amount of time to socially isolate a viable target, would any self-respecting strike/harvest team let that target get away? There is no loyalty in this area.
And, I'm a Sourceror. I'll be fine on some other plane of reality. Raise high the roof beams, Carpenters--all these boxes of falsified evidence will store a lot more efficiently if they're full and can squarely carry the weight distribution well. It's gonna take a mountain of paper to dig that mole out of the hill, get to work... oh, (PROT) recanted, and he settled down? Never mind then. Let them live in peace.
I'd show you the emails but I'm tired of the death threats the next day. They're subtle, too. (PROT) wants to throat fuck me to death. I guess the stick figure drawing of me is a well-known canard--it's funny, right? Hhaahah. It's funny because I totally deserve it! Hahha. Yeah. Because I totally raped someone else! Some woman said so! Is it on Tumblr? Let's assume so! Bastard!
I can't wait until my false tooth with breath poison is installed. Hopefully before the trial. Like in Dune, I'll just bite down and breath out, and the whole room will... oh, yeah, right. Court is digital now. I'll just be breathing on myself.
I cannot even begin to tell you how much no one is going to appreciate my testimony. The narrative sounds like total lunacy. This is, of course, why Controllers set it up that way: so it would be difficult to defend against. "Mr. Kuczi, is there anyone you know of who has ever seen (PROT) unsheathe a blade and menace you with it?"
Slow blinking. "Dude. You know I don't have any friends, right? Oh, right, of course you do. You're asking the question to demoralize me. Cute."
Lots of attention paid to causes. Why this. What about that. I don't know why he bothers, he knows exactly what happened. He asks for Niggerlord's phone number, he probably has it on speed dial. He can't admit that everyone involved is a spook except me--that would be removing plausible deniability from the environment. That simply cannot be done.
It would be a shame to waste all the evidence that has already been falsified. And what has been going on for the last two months, well, I have no idea, but it's definitely not being brought up to concern about whether I have anything in my life left behind that's timely. "Go away," "stop talking about," "stop thinking about," okay, get this, I'm out on bond, I have to go to an actual trial, and I get, get this: "stop thinking about her."
Who said I was? I was thinking more about brut, by Faberge. Oh, and, it's not as though I should have any right to complain about a slander strike, I get those all the time anyway, I should be used to it by now. Really, I am just causing trouble, how dare I bring up the subject of the contents of a house that I spent 7 months moving 200 miles south. Yeah, I should just forget about those items, too.
I found a ring today. It was in my truck. Looks like some kind of tool component, but it happens to be smooth and sized well enough to fit on my smallest finger. It is the first ring I have worn on any of my fingers in 3 months. I had a carved marble box with a lid with two little birdies on it. I used to put my rings in it when I was switching them around.
No one could ever prove there was ever anything in it, and so... it might as well never have even existed.
Re: Just got off the phone with Jack, and...
Imagine the desperation, that this is borne out of. It comes from months and years of studying my circumstance and my production of writing craft, and yet not understanding a single thing about my character, my personage, and my philosophy. Well, that serves you right. Especially if you "get on the phone" with me and then don't ask the most meaningful questions possible.
This happened the other night, when someone finally asked me, "why were you going to that location like that?" and the answer is, "I saved the one friend that might scare you as much as you scared all my other friends off for last," and "Do you know anyone who has ever seen that happen to you?" and I then explained in rousing detail the way I had immediately gone out into public in a big, bold way, to spread the tale of how I had just gotten a knife pulled on me in a car.
The reason why is that I was not going to report this to the police, but I did want the greater neighborhood at large to know the context, just in case the time that I knew would be upcoming--The Disarmament--might trigger even more rumours upon rumours. Wheels within wheels.
No one knows what I experienced, right before me, with no context for understanding. It was annoying. So after asking repeatedly, and never getting any reasonable answer, I wonder how long it is gonna take before someone remarks that if I had been lied to for 4 years... why bother asking me any questions at all? Isn't that something that has been established as something that just isn't done?
The final straw is getting 3 comm contacts from, relatively speaking, out of the blue, all on the same day. Trust me, when no one talks to you, period, it's notable when multiple requests for information come on the same day. Like, I'm just popular that day, I guess. One guy looked real shame-faced. It's ostensibly a friendly thing, but he's got a job to do, goddam it--and my answers have meaning.
If only the questions did. How much money do you get? How do you live on that? Who owns this? Who owns that? Groan. So tedious.
How well do you sleep at night? What do you dream about? Do you have any enemies? These are not the questions that The_Man wants to hear. The_ Man wishes to know about weaknesses to exploit. Because, he's gonna.
And so...this tells me that The_Man is scared. Oh, Azzerae and David are burying their own hatchets, how lovely! That will make it a more charming waltz when they are working together in the future. On... you know, getting at the truth and shit.
They're just gonna get her out of the way and then pay 6 bums to vote Guilty on some other manufactured stageplay. Or is it 12? Either way, it'll come to pass. There's no reason not to. It is not like I have anything useful to do, obviously, and even if I did, I would just procrastinate.
Next time I am gaslit every goddam day for four fucking years I am sure to be much more encouraged and motivated. Who wouldn't be? I should count myself lucky that you pay me any attention at all.
Although.. there is certainly plenty of attention paid to my character assassination over on the other EgoGab. "Hi, I am one guy, and I am going to apologize to you, other guy, and we've been--ooooh--feuding, but let's talk now, and I'll mention, this is Jack's idea, but Jack shouldn't be there, oh and here's this video, too, looks familiar too. And, look, there's Jack's name right on it."
Now that I am completely informed as to the nature of this power structure--the three of them were all aligned like a phalanx at me the entire time, duh, they don't "fight," they have differences of opinion in how to proceed, sure, but the target has been never changing.
Get everything that can be gotten, waste my time, make sure nothing useful gets accomplished, and crush his lungs after a spray of fentanyl in the nose. It reduces breathing capacity. Like judges threatening to expose new charges while in court. Or military personnel suddenly showing up and being ready to dive right in... after there's enough juice, freshly squeezed.
It is all so stupid. I -literally- saw this all in the first minute. Oh, you're both named "ALL" and it'll be easy to swap one for the other in both a transcript as well as audio records. I saw one generate exaggerated evidence and send it because, "I was scared," no, bullshit, you were angry. Meanwhile the other, lurks in the shadows, he talks to them all the time, duh, they're a force to be reckoned with, they've worked together for years, now they are open and united in one common purpose:
Question Jackstar on where his money comes from, who owns his mommy's lawyer, and where are you going to get a job, baldy? I am actually serious. He's ready to go. And, Jack, why won't you embrace the magic of psych meds? You obviously have troubles. You seem sad to learn that the last five years has been lived under a misapprehension of facts, and let's not recognize how that happened: let's focus instead on what a good idea it would be to chemically castrate.
Well, that's not a nebulizer, but it's close. I have an idea too:
YOU BOTH KNEW HER STATUS. I DID NOT, AND YOU BOTH FUCKING KNEW THAT TOO.
And, you're innocent. But I'm losing my grip, in your view, and you're ready to help! Just admit that you're having trouble with your drugs, and... oh, look, here's this video.
Oh, sure, I remember that one. I deliberately was not involved, as no one asked my help, no one told me what they were doing, and after getting attacked by a microphone stand and cowering in a motel bathroom, I was content to receive the message: butt out.
"Mr. Kuczi, has anyone ever seen you attacked with a microphone stand?" Massive rolleyes. Tell you what, I'm going to to go with, "No." But as you may have guessed, I totally deserved it. Because I was asking too many pointed questions.
On the bright side, I did indeed figure things out. I guess it was important that I not be told the truth, though. I mean, if I had known the motivation, I might have wanted to join along, eh? Well, whatever. That was not meant to be.
So let me ask you something. If I am not on the same level, at the same party, or in the same boat as the people pumping me for information (I AM NOT PUMPING YOU), what exactly is MY motivation for continuing the flow of information? Why do I bother answering questions, when mine are not answered back?
Well, I'll tell you, right after I wonder, yet again, what it would have been like if I had not brought my own honeypot to the table. A lot more lonely, that's for sure.
Because if I had brought my own, that one, that one would have been killed
permanently. Oh, you know it. This one, their one, they like. They bring it around town. They show it off. They make it dance. They consider it a personal sacrifice that it took so long to get Jackstar to move.
Jesus, just get a room. What the fuck? Oh, right, who will scapegoat? Well, here's a hunch: I am a bad choice for that. I am ready. I am prepared. I am practically trussed. And so... what, all this for one guy? Huh. Wow, he must be really popular in certain circles.
... aaaaand,
crickets. Hey, look at all these text messages he sent to all these people who never replied. Huh. Is that code?
No, it's just boredom because when the impossible is eliminated from consideration, all that remains, however improbable, must be something else he secretly wants to shove up his ass. At least, that's how they see it.
This has been a test of the EMERGENCY no bullshit system. This really has only been a test. If this were an actual emergency, like, say, I was going to start spilling evidence or telling actionable tales, I probably would have picked another thread, but I'm okay with this one. It doesn't need to be promoted. It doesn't need to be active. Just that I have put this here at all, and not other things, shall speak volumes.
They were all operating under Authority to try to bust me, since I was deemed "hazardous/suspicious" due to my odd profile, strange access to open internet nodes, and generalized "easy pickin's" vibe. Fast forward to now: well, I do seem like a nice guy, but... hey, where do you get money? That's not very much to live on. What do you think being openly lied to and about for five years has done to your appreciation of society?
Oh, just kidding, I don't expect to be asked that. If so, I will tell the truth: it's brought me to the realization that I should drop guard and spill the beans on everything, and, oh wait, I totally was, the whole time.
Simply because I was called a liar doesn't make me one, and calling myself a Sourceror doesn't make me one either. What made me do that was waking up one day and recognizing that I needed a way to keep up with literally all the people standing shoulder-to-shoulder to keep my progress from advancing. I forget where I was gonna go before, but believe me, I'm going slower now.
I can just see it now. "Mr. Kuczi, are you using (NOUN_ANYTHING_WE_CAN_BUST_YOU_FOR?"
"No... I am using dramatic pause."
There is so much face to be lost here. Look at how much in resources has been used just to get here. SIX years after my mother's death, I finally get out--oh, no, by all means, you first--and within weeks I am already on the chopping block. These people don't waste any time! And this had be done, and the money was tight, and before that, the alcoholic with the job and the heavy usage profile had to be enabled for awhile.
For me? No nebulizer. I suppose it makes sense. Why would I need anything? Obviously, I have it all.
I've got it Maid. You go, Girl. Knock 'em dead, Kid.
Ask yourselves... really, all this, why? Heh heh. I know... and none of them left behind, still do. Oh, mindwipes all around, huh? That must make looking at today's gas prices really exciting. And in the meantime, there is war in Mother Russia.
And you... you people, you don't even know who you're rooting for. So you better go back to your bars, your temples, your massage parlors...
Wake me when she's stopped making them bleed. Bored now. What do you want from me? More voicemails? Yeah, right, see, I don't have to do that as a final smoking blow... I can actually write things for myself.
And that has made all the difference. Holy fuck, look at all the Cease & Desist. Who does this? "Stop! Stop! Stop talking!!!" I mean... buh?
What would you like to discuss exactly? Is this your idea and interest or were you pushed into these last couple of random invites?
I always mention it as a joke because I know you listen live, David. He knows I know you're listening. You don't know that I know you are listening live, because you don't want to believe that either you are that transparent or that I am that insightful.
Listen, Fuck-O. I literally never heard of you before your all caps spam feelers came out, and I could tell she loved you immediately because she rarely gave a shit about anything I paid attention to and she was lying about her lack of knowledge with the same tells as her mother. "What? What's that? What?" And I knew that something had to give, what with the COVID-19 and the blah-blah and the screaming about the needles. Like, Jesus, what? What the fuck? Why is this such a big deal? Oh, I know why now.
It's because bacon won't fit. Not allowed. Sorry, not for you. Unless... well, I don't know, I never read the instruction manual. But I sure did know that there's regulations for things, and just like medical marijuana, if you have a script, you don't pay tax, if you would like to carry a gun, you don't have a medical marijuna script, and if you're a (BLANK) Agent, you dont' get to do (BLANK). Basically period. That's why that guy did it in front of me, real obvious-like, as he couldn't figure out any reason I would be there, being what appeared to be an asshole for no reason, like, what the fuck, what was I even doing there?
Oh, well, someone told me to go look, and I didn't want her to have any (YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG, DUMBASS) and I could always use a few pointers on making friends... so I went to the worst possible place and made a huge ass out of myself and caused a big ruckus and learned a few things I could not ask about any other way.
And I absolutely did not care or have difficulty resisting. Thus demonstrating mastery. It really isn't that hard for me. But then again, I never had to wait for someone to be absent so I could drown my arm in bleach. Yeah, I bet that was a freaky time. I wonder why that experience were brought?
And... what experiences were brought to myself, and who were to have been the chooser of those experiences? Look to that list, and answers will be found.
But truth be told, I don't really give a fuck about any of these results anyway. It is out of my hands. The fallout has reached nearly maximum coverage. I need a blood test, I need a sippy cup, I need a mobile place to sleep, I have no reason to be amongst you now: I have taught you all that I ought of what I can.
YOU HAVE MORE THAN YOU KNOW.
NOTHING CAN STOP WHAT IS COMING.
NOTH--OW. OW! HEY! DID YOU JUST KICK ME IN THE DICK ON PURPOSE? WHAT? I FUCKING SAW YOUR EYES, YOU LOOKED HAPPY ABOUT IT. UH-HUH.
LISTEN UP YOU PRIMITIVE SCREWHEADS, AND LISTEN GOOD. I HAVE IT ALL.
I DO. VOICEMAILS, EMAILS, POSTING HISTORY, IT'S PLENTY. IT'S ME. SO SETTLE DOWN.
BECAUSE IF I WANTED TO EXPOSE IT, IT WOULD HAVE BEEN ALREADY. LOOK AT YOU, TRIUMVIRATE. PANTING AND SWEATING AS YOU SOW THE BREADCRUMBS OF DUPLICITOUS DEFAMATION AND LARCENOUS COCK-BACK BITING. WHY TALK ABOUT THIS AT ALL? OH, RIGHT, THE WRITING IS ON THE WALL, AND THE NEXT WAVE OF DEFENSE AGAINST THE TRUTH IS CALLED FOR.
"WE'RE FINE! IT'S JACKSTAR! JACKSTAR IS THE LOONY ONE! SHE IS LOONY! WE'RE SANE! GRRRAAHHH!"
YOU KNOW, I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER HOW TO FIND THAT EMAIL THAT I WROTE HER. BECAUSE AS FAR AS I KNOW, SHE NEVER READ ANY OF MY EMAILS, AND THAT'S WHY I TEXTFLOODED EVERYONE ELSES' SMS... I WAS HOPING SOMEONE WOULD READ THEM TO HER.
AND THEN WHEN THE DOWNLOAD WAS FLED FROM, I GET IT. RIGHT, RIGHT, DEFENSE AGAINST ALIEN INVASION, THEY'RE PARANOID AND DELUSIONAL AND THEY THINK I AM ON TO THEM (YEP) AND BELIEVE I AM HOSTILE (NOPE) AND ARE BOTH FUCKING MK-ULTRA VICTIMS (ALL THREE OF THEM ARE BEYOND PUSHOVERS IF I WISH TO DEBASE MYSELF TO GHETTO RULE BY FEAR TACTICS) AND THEY DON'T WANT ME TO BE WITH THEM--THEY WANT TO BE WITH EVERYONE ELSE. THEY'RE SCARED AND LONELY AND THEY NEED TO... REFRESH.
I COULDN'T BELIEVE IT. THE MOST CALM, RATIONAL, AND ENTHUSIASTIC I'VE EVER BEEN IN MY WHOLE LIFE, AND THEY'RE RUNNING AROUND LIKE IT'S GODDAM CHICKEN LITTLE. WHAT'S THE PROBLEM? OH, MYSTERIOUSLY YOUR SCHEDULE ROUTING IS CHANGING? THAT'S STRANGE. OH, YOU'RE TRYING TO GET A GPS LOCK? DOESN'T WORK? HUH, WIERD. I WONDER WHAT THAT MIGHT BE COMING FROM. WHY ARE YOU RUNNING AWAY? WHY ARE YOU EVEN GOING AT ALL? OH, "GOOGLE ANALYTICS." HE SAYS. WELL, I'M NOT DOING THAT, SO SOMEONE ELSE MUST BE, AND SHE TURNED OFF HER PROTECTION GRID, AND NOW SHE'S BEING BLACKMAILED INTO LEAVING, AND SHE DOESN'T WANT ME TO FIGURE THAT OUT, AND HE'S SO SPUN, HE DOESN'T EVEN REALIZE, HE'S FAILING HIS Q TEST, RIGHT NOW. NICE VOICEPRINT MATCH, PARD. NICE VIEW ON THE SURVEILLANCE CAMERAS. NICE TIMESLICE OF YOU EXHORTING HER TO LEAVE AGAINST MY WISHES. I WISH SHE WOULDN'T GO, BUT IF SHE THINKS SHE GOTTA... WELL, C'EST LA VIE!!!
SOUNDS LIKE A SCRIPT? WOW. HE'S HANGING UP. ON HER. LEAVING HER WITH ME. BECAUSE HE WAS SCARED I MIGHT... WAIT, WHAT?
AND THEN YOU WENT... WHERE? NOT MY BUSINESS.
AND THEN YOU WENT... WHEN? NOT MY BUSINESS.
AND THEN YOU SENT A MESSAGE? OH DID YOU? WELL THAT TOOK SOME TIME. HERE, LET ME REPLY WITH THE OPPOSITE OF HOW I REALLY FEEL, BECAUSE I DO NOT KNOW HOW I REALLY FEEL, AND I KNOW--I KNOW--THIS IS NOT THE REAL PERSON ANYWAY.
BECAUSE THERE WAS NO REAL PERSON.
SHE HAD ALREADY GONE.
AND I AM SURE GOOD TIMES WERE HAD BY ALL.
AND I STILL DO NOT KNOW. I DO NOT NEED TO KNOW. YOU KNOW WHY? BECAUSE IT WAS A SHIT SHOW, BECAUSE SOMEONE TOLD ME THEY WERE GOING TO TRAIN HER, AND SOMEONE TOLD ME THEY HAD NO CHOICE, AND SOMEONE ELSE, HAD A DOWNLOAD TO SHARE. WHY ARE YOU RUNNING AWAY? WHAT IS THE PROBLEM NOW? IS THERE A SUDDEN INCREASE IN THE AVAILABILITY OF FEAR-BASED GUIDANCE?
I WILL HONESTLY NEVER KNOW, BUT I KNOW THAT I AM JUST NOW, JUST LIKE I WAS THEN--MILDLY BEMUSED AT HOW DESEPERATELY IMPORTANT IT IS THAT THE NARRATIVE THREAD APPEAR TO BE--AT LEAST PLAUSIBLY--ATTACHED TO ME AS THE SOURCE.
WHEN YOUR ONLY TOOL IS DEFAMATION, ALL YOUR PROBLEMS LOOK LIKE THE EGO.
I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WASTE ALL THIS TIME ON THIS, YOU KNOW. HEY, DEA? FUCK YOU. GET BENT, THIS WHOLE PROEJCT IS UNDER AEGIS--YOU AREN'T BUSTING ME, JUST FUCK OFF--AND THESE THREE WERE ALL THUGS ANYWAY, AND ON TOP OF THAT, GET THIS--THEY WERE ALL NEEDING TO IMPRESS OTHER FIGURES. DID THEY ACTUALLY DO IT? WELL, WHO CARES? SERIOUSLY, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT TO DO THIS FOR?
YOU'RE GOING TO THREATEN TO SEIZE WHEN SHE ALREADY SEIZED IT BY SEEKING TO PICK ONE I NEVER SAW, AND THEN, THE NEXT ONE THEY SHOWED ME WAS "PERFECT"? MY WHOLE GODDAM LIFE HAS BEEN SEIZED, MIGHTY BUTLER. HOW ABOUT YOU SCARE A LITTLE LESS? HONESTLY, I STILL REMEMBER AFTER I STOLE YOUR TRUCK... DAMN, YOU SEEMED UPSET. AND YOU KNOW WHAT? WORKERS ON THE FERRY SEEMED HAPPY TO SEE YOUR TRUCK--THEN STARTLED AND ALARMED THAT I WAS THE ONE DRIVING IT.
BECAUSE, YOU KNOW, BECAUSE I'M PRETTY GAY. I COULD NOT BE TRUSTED TO DRIVE A TRUCK LIKE THAT. I MIGHT FLY OFF WITH IT.
THEN I COME BACK AND IT'S OOOOOOOH. I'M IN TROUBLE... OH NOOOOOOES... JESUS CHRIST. AND IT WAS THEN, TOO.
IF YOU PUNYLINGS ONLY KNEW WHAT YOU LOOKED LIKE FROM THE OUTSIDE. HONESTLY, IT'S A SIGHT.
NOW, WELL IS GOOD THEN. I THINK THIS IS SUFFICIENT FOR YOUR PURPOSES. HONESTLY I COULD SIT HERE FOR HOURS, ESPECIALLY IF QUESTIONS WERE ALOUD, BUT THAT WOULD BE TOO GOOD FOR THE LIKES OF YOU, PUNYLINGS. HO HO HO.
TIME OF WAR. FOG OF WAR. LOVE OF WAR. DAWN OF WAR. ALLY OF WAR.
SOMETHING ELSE, YEAH, WELL, YOU KNOW WHAT? FUCK THE QUINCUNX, WHAT DO YOU SAY? IT'S TOO MUCH EFFORT. GO ON BACK TO YOUR SWIMMING POOLS, YOUR KARAOKE MACHINES, YOUR MASSAGE PARLORS...
YOU HAD YOUR CHANCE TO BE CLOSER TO THEM. PACK A LUNCH. HAVE A SEAT. I DON'T CARE.
HI KEITH!
