The logistics of operational structures in Northeast Virginia, adjacent Maryland and associated field interests were clarified for me the other day in regard to my “Shadow” to the effect that there was an inescapable indication as to those for whom my “Shadow” has been working all these decades, really since the very beginning. And now he knows I know. So, he appreciates my texting him the following:
I just figured you out. I’m a bit slow. I had some help. You should’ve just told me. Pretty funny if you ask me. I’m cool with that. Just be good. Avoid evil. Have your soul straight with God.
That was sincere. I mean, I am a priest, after all. I want everyone to have their souls right with God, even the one who stole my identity so as to do things with it internationally and totally unknown to me for the longest time, that is, at the behest of those for whom he works. But, I suppose, my admonition to him also involved a little bit of baiting.
It worked. His response was to give me a heads up about what the relationship is between me and those for whom he works, regardless of any loyalty of mine to all that is patriotic, all that is good and holy, and this, by playing off a recent post on this blog involving the extremity of such loyalty and that particular center on this blog: Metallica: Nothing Else Matters (Analysis of the lyrics). Nice, that response of his, giving me a heads up and all. Not that I didn’t know that. After all, this has been going on for decades and the relevant Division of Main State and later the FBI confirmed this for me on their own initiative. As I’ve always said, my life is an open book, more than any polygraph or other means could ever drag out of me or ascertain (I mean, should I ever have been signed up for said company myself).
In more recent years, especially in recent months, especially in recent weeks, especially in recent days and hours, despite that initial niceness, my “Shadow” has been playing up baiting me into having a syndrome originally called Norrmalmstorgssyndromet but now recalls the city in which an incident occasioned analysis: the Stockholm Syndrome.
I’m guessing he’s sincere on one level, but is so caught up in his rationalizations that he just doesn’t see his own baiting in reverse. Or not that. Maybe I’ve been baiting him to bait me. Maybe we’re just pretending to out-manipulate each other. But, after all, in his mind, if he’s done wrong and I don’t like that, maybe he feels the oppression of my not liking being taken advantage of with my name being used. He’s a “victim”[!], well, until I cave and work with him for the company. But maybe, from my perspective, I can capitalize on all that. He will read this, of course.
The trouble with him making that baiting me into a Stockholm Syndrome a success is that I’m already so bad and evil that I’m already in a pre-skeptical state, a kind of self-aware situational awareness of all that which is bad and evil. Nothing has changed with all of this. Not even with the heating up of incidents, not even with the recent exaggeration of the “accompaniment” when I travel as promised by Main State and the FBI. I still have a request and I still have something to say to the FBI and CT at Liberty Crossing Campus that dwarfs this idiocy between my “Shadow” and me.