j edgar

 

 

 

.. What You Think Is Our Business .. cisa: public service announcement

 

"What we have here is failure to communicate"

 

The Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency considers your thoughts, and what you post online, a part of the United States Government’s “critical infrastructure,” thereby giving "the Agency" the authority to regulate them.

Pay no attention to the link above; For your personal safety, our trusted tech investigation team, along with a host of impartial defense attorneys and public relations specialists are working directly with all due diligence in the greatest judicial system in the world to alleviate this challenge to integrity; ed.

 

The CISA is at the forefront of information management activities in the United States, often acting in concert with publicly-funded NGOs to act as an  “information help desk.”

 

We decided to create something known as the “disinformation governance board,” a vital and necessary tool to provide the funding and, more importantly, the public support to be able to continue offering enlightened suggestions to our social media partners, like YouTube, Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram and Blogger.

 

Regrettably, soon after this “disinformation governance board” became public knowledge, it was temporarily disbanded to address useful criteria and make it more user friendly in a non-threatening atmosphere of collective effort. However, behind the scenes, through continued litigation directed toward your greatest advantage, when it is aligned with that of "the Agency", the activities it was meant to cover have not.

Our goal is team building; between corporate and public interaction, including other major "players" such as BlackRock, the IMF, World Bank, Greenpeace, the  Human Rights Campaign and the Open Society Foundation. As well as sharing between other regulatory agents in a consortium of mutually advantageous authority and Just in Time data analysis dissemination, you know your community is in trusted hands when you see the label Central Committee of Culture and Polity (CCCP) attached to each and every detail within their ever expanding realm of oversight.

Our partners, numbering in the thousands, are embedded in every discernible function of Government, from the rank and file of Public Employees Unions all the way up to White House Director of Digital Strategy, Rob Flaherty, a senior advisor to President Joe Biden.

Flaherty often acts as a ”boss” or manager to social media executives. He takes "ownership" of his executive partners seriously. In a recent email, he described how Facebook beamed about removing post visibility and moderation of postings by the vaccine injured:

“As you know, in addition to removing vaccine misinformation, we have been focused on reducing the virality of content discouraging vaccines that does not contain actionable misinformation. This is often-true content, which we allow at the post level because experts have advised us that it is important for people to be able to discuss both their personal experiences and concerns about the vaccine, but it can be framed as sensation, alarmist, or shocking. We’ll remove these Groups, Pages, and Accounts when they are disproportionately promoting this sensationalized content."

Good job, Rob! Don't let those extremist prevaricators rock our boat and make waves. Like it or not, we're all in it together!
 
     " the most critical infrastructure 

                                       is a cognitive infrastructure"

 

                             猿笑

 

  " it's only small town talk;

                           don't pay it no never mind "

long way there

 

two cemeteries -- 

it was a long way there

this Decoration Day

 (*)

 

When I start bangin' out "essays"

You know it's got serious, just my opinion, but I'm pretty sure.

notice my credentials? 'mericanese writ large, not a thing that's  essential 'cept for contractions, dead idioms, and errors in grammar galore. It's regional, not seasonal, the outsiders believe it's a boor. Deep twangs, slow drawls, clipped phrases in stages - the left coast? - Valley Girl! It's not easy to contemplate, worse yet to enunciate, waxing and waning, that tattered ol' glory, its unofficial story within its blood stained furls.

As for me? it don't matter, no never mind, it ain't nuthin', between North and South I'm torn, I've been everywhere, man, ate shrimp from the Gulf , turned 'round, smelled the stench of tar sands, walked the line in vast prairie, met honeybees so wary - the cut of my jib was kinda scary - migrant workers far from home, they and I, but it's one thing to mention, a clear night's highway, the moon held in suspension, where the wheels meet the road, to hold tight or let go? but for the glory of god, the wheat, seed and sod, in waves like an ocean, this city boy had a marvelous notion he could sail from the earth to the sky!


Stop! Now hold on just a minute. isn't this a bit ... tedious?
It's so strange when I try to arrange thoughts so scattered line 'em up straight in a --- wtf ?! just let me catch a breath

 

That's better ... this has been going on all day. I intended to while away the hours all by myself, no distractions, as comfortable as possible. what that means could be reading, or editing, another, and again, some minor detail, another proof, another galley, next thing you know, I, I had to let go? I mean it. 

Still on form I see. Dropped the preposition, as curt as can  ... be.

 

ARRGH!

 

 You know how you get in the zone? That's all it is. It's muscle memory. Or, in this instance, tapped into intuition; thousands upon millions of sensations and observations caught in its filter,  or one would go mad trying to process all the stimuli as it arrived. If you open that floodgate, oh, so carefully, its tapestries of neurons firing in unison, the words fall into place, literally, without thinking. It's been like that for a few days now. I can't turn it off.

At one time, it was physical. There was a job; requiring strength, speed and skill developed with repetition and a fair amount of diligence. After awhile, you set yourself against others. Years later, the challenge is to yourself. And you must fail, also. 

Fail, and fail miserably. Damaged goods taken advantage of, set aside by your own lack of mindfulness, smacked about and made a fool of, losing everything you own. Stunned or standing quiet, masking torn limbs and broke bones. Strip away all the hubris and the ego goes unconscious, down for the count. It hurts so bad to cry out in self pity. Better to meet chaos and destruction face to face.

The last twenty years have provided that in spades. 

Recovery is a personal matter. If you do continue it's a matter of character. Perfection is discovery by trial and error. The trick is knowing when it's out of your reach. Which is always, forever.

  If you come back from near death, it's by force of will. It's a long slow struggle. Twice, more than coincidence. Three times ... de nada. Don't think about it and you might even excel.

I remember a time moving at will, so fast, the rest of the crew barely able to get out of the way. I never noticed. I was in the Void. I was levitating. It only happened three or four times. I don't keep track ... not really. Do I miss it? What about the present? 

 

The head takes over when the legs go lacking. Secretly, I know I can cut it. When the time arrives.

 

Today was different. Feeling jovial, I decided to scoot over to Fight Club for a few laughs. You shouldn't talk about Fight Club. I let it slip though.

Just so you know,  it has a Libertarian bent, but with a mean streak. At once a top notch aggregator of financial affairs, it's since degraded into a nest of trolls and prognosticators, the worst of which with pointed political views. A few dangerous kooks thrown in, and voila'! The negativity so thick you could slice bloody pieces off with a straight razor. It's why the comment section holds such attraction. And a core of old timers lie in wait there. Some with true passion and integrity.

 
A fun place to visit but you wouldn't have it within less than a swallow's flight from Capistrano. A butterfly might flap it's wings and the next thing you know you're knee deep in Laurasia's primal ooze. It's one of the last places I can interact with people that think as fast a I do. It's in the spontaneity you'll find occasional brilliance.

The most sarcastic site on Earth, the joke's the thing; dry, ribald, intellectual, punch lines so funny you'll be rolling on the floor, witticisms with a compound hernia. Absurdity personified - if you can take it.

Oh, I almost forgot. The news content would be banned, under our current unmentionable siege, in any major paper in America or overseas if there weren't a million subscribers. Some of it is recycled from the Narrative - and that's why those commenters tear it down to pieces with such savagery it's astoundingly violent and cruel. 

Some might then say "you can't handle the truth!" That is unfortunate.

Opponents contend it's style over content, offensive, combative, disagreeable - it's non-compliance with opinion or platform, the real measure behind each inflection of insult, lie and slander, to deflect from a mission of control. It's the rod that stirs this division - the ridiculous pantomime of injury, false allegation and drama, all the fictions in front of your nose. Our eyes are instilled with projection, our reason rejected, attracting shame and derision, a tactic to sow doubt and confusion in droves.

No wonder that anger compels a reaction. A non-majority commanding another to discard your values, traditions, freedom a catch phrase turned backwards, obedience the ideology, through violence, the only way forward they know.

 

Though Fight Club's motto may not make amends, it also is true, in an equitable fashion;

On a long enough timeline everyone's chance of survival returns to zero.

Stay away. Far, far away. It will suck you in and spit you out a bastard child of a cynic's son. Debate is no longer a parlor game for children. Our leaders elected, they made it so. 

When it's over, there'll be the need to build a new governance. The old one will have reached its end.

And so I start spinning my schtick in iambic pentameter? They know me there. I had to leave or risk my reputation. I don't even know what that means.
Move along now, nothing to see, better if all of us just let ...
what rhymes with Midwesterner?

This sure has been a weird week gone by.

 

Notes on an unidentified flying hack

 

Two weekends past an alleged search engine boasting of advanced security and atypical access ambushed me while posting. Flashing an authoritative sign that engulfed this screen, it demanded I accept further intrusions of data collection or suffer a vague consequence - you may experience difficulty with the functions of this web site.

Naturally, I refused. 

  Not because I was dropped on my head as a child, or for lingering criminal tendencies. I've resisted most behavioral modification online. I assumed that's what it involved. A tactic also known as (AKA) Public Relations.

It was Google himself what done it. That's what I heard ... It looked exactly like some ransom malware. With only a tiny little url with google etched in tiny little letters to back up its instruction; "Accept". To put it another way; "Consent". "Submit" is for registered customers with a 1: 100,000 chance to win a special prize. 

 

Emboldened by curiosity, another click opened a button marked "learn more".. A short explanation within announced its intent to place tracking cookies, evidently to further define details of my uploading habits - the data of my sources and their origin; shared articles and links, and for images, pdf's, and the like. Apparently, my 2000 or so saved Blogger photos were also sanctioned. Correction: they're Google Photos now.

So I was to assume the role of confidential informant. A snitch. A canary. Agent provocateur and a spy. all I needed was a security clearance, mileage reimbursement, one to one match on a 401k, with a really good dental plan and I could ride that gravy train for all it was worth. With a publisher's advance to write my memoirs, all that was left was a voice scrambler and pixelated screen shot and I was set for life. And entertainment expenses. Two, no three weeks paid sick leave.

Tempting ...

 

And, this pop up, quite subtly, threatened violence.

Oddly, my browser didn't recognize the source, either. It even advised I block it, nobly offering a button to push - that said "Block" on it. I did. Nothing happened. Except my browser had stopped working, turned  tail and rolled up in a ball.

 

My browser is not Chrome. You probably knew that by now?

The pop up had buttons, too. "Accept" or "Deny". I chose the blue pill - or was that red? Nothing changed. The intruding pop up again. I could write, but no uploads.
 

So I tried a quick cut and paste job. It posted! 

 

"Eureka", I said. 

 

"All prior posts are belong to us",  it might be Google replied. Yes. 880 posts had vanished. 

 

"Fuck!" I said. and wrote a nasty headline and let it stand for all to see.

 

Like a pilloried man detained in the town square. To make an example, mind you.

Which brought many a curious reader to gawk at the funny man moaning and thrashing about, heaven knows what for, but without any a speck of content to read. 

 

Some things never change.

A few still come for the exquisite selection of links ...do you need a brown paper bag?

 
I viewed it as if it were a Communist plot. No, I am not a Republican. Not a Democrat. Yes, I was born in the Cold War. No, young people couldn't possibly comprehend my snappy patter - even if they wanted to.
 

Nor am I a Uni-Party man. Which would have saved the trouble of mentioning the other two louts. There still remained a hint of the Collective about it though.

Which pointed a finger back at Google Accounts 

(actually, that's not entirely true - The prior paragraph is a dramatic embellishment - except, maybe, for the Collective ).

If you don't know Google Accounts, I'll tell you what it is.

It hijacks every aspect of your online life, even extending its reach from the ether to pull and twist at your waking hours  Akin to opium addiction, it promises endless hours spent in a slightly uneasy daze dithering and dreaming through an unnatural, floating world punctuated by a million clicks. They're your clicks, running up the tally of your precious life's hours wasted as you while them away, indoctrinated to  every  tawdry value from yet another self important, woke company as you're drawn into the abyss of total disdain for cognizance and conversation.  Your consent is its final condition, blithely attended by little emoticons and gifs dancing before your bloodshot eyes like minor demons in a Hieronymus Bosch painting. 

 

That's right. It opens a portal that leads straight to the depths of  Hell.

There it is, lingering near the preview pane - it's making a dog's breakfast of the HTML!  

Had you going there for a moment, didn't I?
But it is in the room with us - right now. 

 

Like Nosferatu, it's an unstoppable menace sucking your life story straight from the vein of your deleted history with the extreme prejudice only an unfeeling algorithm of shoddy code and patchwork JavaScript - plus the coder's unconscious biases - could  ever conceive. 

 

You might argue, "I have nothing to hide". 

Nor does a man on his way to the gallows ...

 

Right! Our eyes are on you, Sunny Jim, you know what will happen if you don't. Now, put your x down and sign up for Google Meet! Here then! Why isn't Discovery turned on? And never look me in the eye. Eyes down on your phone! 30 pop ups! They'll be more until morale improves ....

 

At least with a bot you can strike up a conversation.

I ran to Blogger assistance for help. FAQs had no mention of von Helsing. No surprise that - they offer little else, either. Still, I made a checklist.

No issue with the The EU General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR)
That rule was created to restrain Google's reach. What happened after that I don't know. The same provision does not apply here.

We receive, for example, an executive order, then spend months, even years, disproving what was already known to be over reach. Then a regulatory agency with no legislative powers takes a turn. And so forth. In sequence, conditioning obedience.
 

 For the privilege, you'd think that would be funny. Threatened with arrest not so long ago, I found it ... ironic.

No lingering authorization notices from the, eh hem, European Economic Authority. They must dally with advertisers. A number of rules to observe there. Don't comply, and fair warning is given. If you snooze, once you're cited, best wake up and take notice; you'll lose by default with no timely reply.

I opened the link to check for duplicate errors in emails; any that held passwords lost or forgotten. Those associated to the blog were properly vetted. Two that weren't listed, and have never been opened, were assigned by two ISPs, Comcast and Xfinity. 

 

Which, btw, are both just one and the same company. 

 

What's the difference between a Monopoly and a Cabal? One is a Capitalist bastard and the other a World Economic Forum. There have been rumors of a merger.
 

No doubt I logged in with my Google Account. I couldn't avoid it if I tried ... remember this soothing dialog?

 

Google run Blogger town ... say it ... *say* Google run Blogger town!

 

Tina Turner had a role in that. Did you hear? She passed away. I saw her on the Academy Awards. A performance so compelling it made me tear up and cry. 

 

Check your phone for "private dancer"... no, no, there, no, not "tiny dancer", no, that's not it ... let me see ... yes ... c'mon ...

 

I've had mixed content on here for years - it means new https to old http posts are not copacetic. I clean it out like weeds in the garden when I come across it. 

I know now what to call it besides what the f**k.

I have no tolerance for, and deserve the right to deny inclusion of, any damn spam regardless of origin, creed, country, corporation or limited liability company, and I'm not afraid to say it ...

I leave them up just to mock them. It's a control issue. I know.

 

Not nearly amusing as Facebook's Community Standards. 

They don't have any - they make them up as they go along.

I'll never moderate the comments section here.

If you want to light it up, have a go.

If you feel you've been ghosted pretend you've been texting.

I ran a malware checker (not the one from Ukraine I mentioned in a previous post entitled
More Lockdown or just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get me) and it came up clean. ... did you just hear something? I thought I heard ... you hear it, too?

I have noticed the edit buttons by each post have disappeared. It requires one return to the dashboard every time. It would be swell adding a sub-header titled what else is forbidden?
 

Imagine that in syndication, the target audience, a class room.

 
So where do I stand now?

 
It claimed authenticity, yet had the characteristics of malware;  how does it differ?
What I don't understand is, you can delete tracking, various personal kinds, i.e., in the privacy and data section of your account.
Leads one to believe this one's bogus somehow ... and able to disrupt communications.
Then why the sudden interest in source material?

We'll look into it.
 

I had no idea of Europe's extended reach in what I post. For now, limited to international platforms adhering to protocols applied to their content. Quite unlike our individual states and communities which still, despite federal influence, are by statute and amendment to determine their own standards. That window of opportunity, inexorably, is closing, coinciding with the money spigot of Federal funding as a wedge to compel compliance with policy.

Am I to be subject to draconian penalty for some cultural gaffe' or making an enemy? What if I make an unconscious mistake? What entity is it keeping a score? Will it relent, or will there be more? Would this post's content even pass muster? 

 

... with a stanza that rhymes? That's asking quite a lot isn't it? I hope you haven't taken a bloody gloss over the whole bloody piece, I've been at this for hours ,,,

 

Honestly, I have absolutely ... there isn't ... I have nothing ... to hide?

Hey, Google! You Can Kiss My ASS!

dwee do dee doo doo dwee do dee doo doo hahahahahahaaaaaaa ....

NSA.Prism/search/ keywords/in-order-of-appearance/:

tactic, AKA, Public Relations, consent, sources, cut and paste, search, security, Google, access, data, web, criminal, resist, behavioral modification, ransom, EU General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR), violence, block, detain, pillory, links, brown paper bag, cold war, collective, uni-party man, fuck, eh-hem, hijack, life, ether, tally, portal, hide, demons, ISP, duplicate, monopoly, cabal, World Economic Forum, Tina Turner, Facebook, comments, ghosted, text, lock down, POV, moderate, waste, authenticity, paranoid, dashboard, state, community, bribery, extortion, rhyme, gloss, bloody, kiss my ass

Zelensky Addresses John Hopkins' University Graduates

 

 Zelensky appeared via livestream and also received an honorary doctorate degree from the university’s president at the commencement, the Baltimore Sun reported.

John Hopkins kept that Covid death website with all the little numbers spinning like a  slot machine, didn't they? Real horror show stuff, it sent a lot of people off to the drive-up Vacc clinic to get a free donut and a lifetime of blood clotting. I asked the school superintendent who was liable for injury when giving the jabs to children in makeshift stations on school grounds. He turned up his nose and refused to address it at the annual meeting. But a week later, the practice had stopped across the entire state, almost as quick as the roll out after children were approved as guinea pigs.

Why not an existing medical institution? Hospitals were empty then, by a relatively large margin discovered by an easy peasy check up of intake statistics like a journalist would ... never mind! I'd rather not watch dancing nurses on duty. Passes the time when there's naught to do, though, I'm sure.

So they got extra $hing for diagnosing Covid. Hospitals did. Big time. Now 500 or so are bankrupt in danger of closure. Just goes to show, "the stupid, it burns!" Many will be combined. A people mill difficult for some to travel to. Dare not miss your appointment. And keep it simple. They're keeping a head count up but the doctors, well, they're just not pulling their weight. And they're not allowed to answer questions. Not directly.

The clinical portion of the hospital/clinic/insurance consortium needs a return on investment equal to the ... sorry. Numbers, again. And the quotas. Doubt they meet them. M&A is contraindicated when combined with Allopathic medicine.

And to think we add 20,000 new medical related staffers per year... it's like a vacuum in space. It's never satiated. 

CMS expenditures already stand at one third the national debt annually. I'd talk about how CMS regulations take a 50% cut off providers, thus, no private practitioner in his right mind would expand now. They're out the door, and the new blood prefers indoctrination. To be associated with Medicaid coverage is like a scarlet letter. So it's shove off, mate, the dole isn't profitable for your betters. The tax (FUTA) is taking in only 15% of the budgeted payouts - in response, if you will, the providers have been price fixing for 50 years. I might turn down a non-op hamstring tear  therapy at my local Ambulatory Care shop. The name on the shingle earns a double charge over other providers. It's not about the money. It's just that them fuckers are nuts. I climbed four steps up their flow chart and still no estimate of cost. it was like Tammany Hall. Everybody pointing the finger at somebody else. Truly, a circle jerk on a national scale. What the hell, let it burn down. I'll limp faster to safety.

Can't stop it. The industry, like our career politicians, is too well invested in the skim. And who would prosecute? C'mon ... the Supreme Court ruled twice on the matter yet they still do it. Give it three years at best. No one will notice. After all, we've always been at war with East Asia. And, war justifies default. You think interest rates have some greater impetus? There is historical precedent that they do.

The Federal Reserve dare not admit it. The USA is on an interminable footing for war. Plenty of articles that prove it. You just won't find it in the Yellow Journalism that passes for our main stream media. But that has historical precedent, too.

Ferguson! Yeah him! The guy with the Coof infection models built from parts of recycled Atari Games? He's associated with the skim. A record of failure down the memory hole. Yeah, and the Defense Department, too, they go way back ... Oh.

That's why Zelensky is there. That touching requiem for the Azov Scholarship winners, was it?
John Hopkins owed someone a favor. I wonder what their accounts look like? TBTF? Will Zelensky tour the Catskills comedy circuit?

It couldn't have been as bad as his televised performance from the House of Representatives.
Pomp and Circumstance meet the Sound of Music. The little prick kept asking for more.

All I know is he won't get a pittance from those graduates. They're up to their necks in student debt.

Just goes to show ...

... crazy people draw attention!

Visits so far this Monday. Image was not rejected.