That’s the long version above, edited even for language, even lip-reading of what’s said. I did not go through the unedited version. Below is a good excerpt, much shorter, but you get the idea.
Pray for these guys, Shawn, Ryan, and otherwise Bill, Judy, Devitt, et alii, our unsung heroes.
It must be so frustrating for them. As it is, pedo-porn is ultra-protected social engineering by the powers that be. No one but no one will talk about this. No one will go near it. Well, Project Veritas. Things are proceeding quietly.
Meanwhile, let the filthy crowd know that they are destined for prison. They will likely be killed there. They don’t want to go to prison.
The filthy crowd will likely try to kill the heroes. Much more effective in such assassinations are the powers that be. I dare say that nothing makes more money in the world than child porn. There. I said it. Money. And the powers that be.
But it’s a gazillion times worse than this. The pedos are all about shaking their fists at God with kids as fodder.
If you have eyes to see and ears to hear, a spirit that is vigilant, a heart that is not dulled – if you’re praying the Rosary – you will know that we have all seen all the evil there has been, is, and ever will be in the wounds of Jesus, He who said “what you have done to the least of the brethren you have done to me.”
The blog “hits” above come in one after the other only after the “hits” below from “Amazon” in “Singapore” temporarily stopped. No fluke, as it happens regularly. Amazon sells server space.
Years and years ago, in just one purchase, for instance, the CIA acquired use of 300,000,000.00 worth of server space in northeast Virginia. By now, that’s been hyperbolically multiplied.
Anyone can get server space with wild ip addresses and any “location” that you may wish to assign, such as “Singapore.”
There are many thousands of hits from “Amazon”, and these are not bots, but rather direct human visits, stopping only for sleep. Some are seconds long, some minutes on end. One can profile who this is by way of the special interest that is taken in some posts over others, returning multiple times to certain posts and the emailing of some posts (that appears with the URL) but not others.
What I find odd is that “normal” visits to the blog seem to stop dead when Amazon starts up, and continue when Amazon stops.
I’m no hacker. I barely have bandwidth enough to, at times, post a post. Anyone with more wherewithal than myself who can explain this to me?
An SSH server using port 22 instantly copies everything on your computer. It is to laugh. They (FBI?) should be prepared to read commentaries on the Hail Mary, the Beatitudes, Flowers for the Immaculate Conception, etc. I love that. I bet the FBI’s offshoot, the SPLC, will be writing descriptions of domestic terrorists for the FBI that include commentaries on the Hail Mary, the Beatitudes and Flowers for the Immaculate Conception.
[[UPDATE: So I put up this post a few days ago and didn’t have the bandwidth even to check the stats. I just did, Wednesday night. Wow. Whoever was messing around on Microsoft Azure up and ran just as soon as I had put up this post. Yikes! If I understand the dynamics, that’s not just going dark, that’s running. Or, it’s having been put down by the good-guy hackers. Great. Thank you. Chapeau!]]
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So, this blog gets occasional world-class hackers who come to take a peak at what’s going on behind the scenes here, which is all the same as what anyone has ever seen in what’s published, except for whatever hacking messages are left behind deep in code, if that’s the case. I dunno. I’m no hacker. And I can’t imagine why. I’m guessing no harm done, and maybe it’s even helpful. Hackers can do good things, really good. It’s just what hackers do. The ultimate thankless job. Whatever.
Then there are the shadow-banners, who disrupt the sending out of updates for blog-reading algorithms and who decimate the viability of email notifications, like 99%. My actual readership is pretty much just a few good souls. But lots of people think I haven’t posted in many months. But, as I often say, I’m writing primarily so as to assist myself in dealing with the remnants of what I’m guessing is something on the autism spectrum, whereby a keyboard helps me to think, get things in perspective. I need to concretize. I would do this writing even if there were no internet. So, as I say, whatever…
Then there are just weird things that leave a trail, say, using Microsoft Azure, which enables the user to fake a location and have fake IP addresses. First it was out of Chicago, now it’s out of Des Moines. Thus:
That’s all day, all night, for say three months each time. I think this is perhaps the fifth time in as many years. Whatever. Maybe it’s someone with a terminal illness and they just really, really like my posts! Or someone is physically printing out hard-copy the entire blog. Or maybe someone thinks they are nice in buying me fake “hits”. Hint: don’t be nice. That hurts the algorithms. And maybe that’s the point. But, again, as I say… whatever…
Strange though, that a post I’ve been working on ferociously for a week was disappeared. I’ve saved that offline, putting it back. That’s a hassle. But, again, as I say… whatever…
And that’s all I’m gonna think about it, refusing to give this kind of nonsense any more real-estate in my brain. I don’t have the bandwidth in my brain for pretty much anything, much less this kind of drama. So, as I say… whatever…
But to any good hackers – Hey! – Here’s a thank you to you. Chapeau!
The above is just one of many this morning. Many of these groups are the very best in the world for extracting everything from raw-formatted hard drives and flash drives. Pfft. Whatever. I don’t care one little bit. Good for them, as long as they are doing what they do for God and neighbor, Pro Deo et Patria, 4GOD4ALL and all that. Great.
But aren’t hackers 24/7/365-366 in their mother’s basements even when they are older, not coming up even for a delicious Thanksgiving dinner especially during Covid lockdowns coming from the Dems?
That would be wrong.
These hackers in their dozens all took off the entire Thanksgiving holiday weekend. Ain’t gonna happen with malicious hackers. Never. So, these guys are just bored workers here in these USA wanting to get inspired with AriseLetUsBeGoing even if being paid slave wages to do so. Whatever about their oh so so ultra secret exit nodes[=outhouse holes?], they all seem to flush out [sorry!] at Fort George G Meade (=NSA) and other such locations. ;-)
Counterintelligence amounts to a lot of baiting and counterbaiting in a vortexed maelstrom of – in the end – who knows what? I know that well. But I thought a bit of humor – and all this is humor – would be good just about this time post-election 2020.
No offence to our intelligence services. Really. It’s just that it seems all this is impolite.
Having said that, I have a really good friend who was invited to be a chaplain for the NSA.
He’s another one of those most researched people in the world.
Just to inject a bit of humor into the situation here in these USA, I poke fun at myself, and let my associations run wild. Come along for the ride. You won’t be disappointed.
The hit to the blog above had ultra-inaccurate Verizon Fios geolocators pointing to McLean[!], Tysons Corner[!], D.C.[!], and – as always – Charlottesville, in other words, to about five million other people and surely just a mistaken click on the blog… but, just to say, the TOR hackers disappeared all at the same time, all of them, just like that, totally.
Hahaha. In other words, it’s a good thing to keep a sense of ultra-light-hearted-humor in what are stressful times for many people, what with Covid policy treated as legislated law, what with the obvious fraud amounting to a coup d’état, what with religious rites still being smacked down by those who hate God and neighbor, our Constitutional Republic of, by and for the people, by those who hate the Rule of Law. Let yourself enjoy a bit of humor! Remember what Saint Lawrence said when he was being burned to death on a grid-iron: “You can turn me over now; I’m done on that side.” No matter how bad things can get, know that Jesus intends to bring us to heaven. And don’t forget, the CIA can continue full on with no government funding for multiple administrations of any POTUS.
Besides being steadfast in the faith only by the grace of God, besides keeping a sense of humor, I myself like also to fall back into nostalgia for a bit of wonderful distraction. So, when places like McClean and Tysons Corner come up, my first reaction is to render due honor where due honor is due. It’s like someone saying a word and then you have to say the first word that comes to mind. In this case, I instantly turn to this event honoring the great Joyce Kilmer, which happened a couple of years ago, when yours truly had the great honor of honoring this Catholic giant of poetry, this spectacular Catholic giant of the Intelligence Community. I wrote about it then. Here’s some of that post:
July 30, 2018, was the 100th anniversary of death by sniper of forward field intelligence officer Joyce Kilmer. He’s personally the heroic example of what would become the Office of Strategic Services (OSS) which would itself turn into the Central Intelligence Agency. The CIA, the Central/Catholic Intelligence Agency, doesn’t much treat Kilmer as a forerunner, but in my opinion, they should.
Descendants of Joyce Kilmer were there. The VFW was there in force, including the State and National Commanders. There were bagpipes, the bugle for Taps, the 21 gun salute.
After offering a few religious words about heroism and then enjoying the privilege of reciting the entirety of Kilmer’s Rouge Bouquet included below, I had the honor of commanding that honors be rendered. Here’s that ceremony:
JOYCE KILMER: Memorial –Rev. George David Byers July 30, 2018 – Centenary Memorial Service – Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest
Joyce Kilmer was enthusiastically respected in all good friendship by his brothers in arms back in the day, a lively respect which continues today as we are now witnessing one hundred years later. Anyone who is profoundly immersed in their own times remains at one with us in all times. Joyce Kilmer is a hero because he leads us back to ourselves and who we are before God. Joyce’s poetical intervention about, say, any tree being awesome because of being just another tree, but made by God is an analogy bringing us into the lived reality of who any one of us is to be as a hero.
Like so many others in our topsy turvy society with wars and rumors of wars, in our day as people did in Joyce’s day, I have searched for heroism if not in all the wrong places then surely in all the wrong ways. Growing up in a military family, my father having been trained up at Parris Island as a Marine Fighter Attack Pilot in Guam, the Philippines, Japan, China and Korea, having been commander of the famed Checkerboard Squadron, I have bragged about him as my hero, perhaps making him too extra special. Joyce Kilmer knew there was a danger to making one tree more special than all the others, a danger of not seeing that we are all made by God, the danger of thinking that this other fellow is a hero so I don’t have to be one. That’s not the kind of respect a real hero wants.
At the same time I would go out of my way to greet any veteran I might see at a gas station or a supermarket or at church. I’ve learned NOT to say, “Thank you for your service,” as I would often get a half-hearted, or sad, or almost cynical if polite acknowledgment in return. To say “Thank you for your service” almost seems ungrateful to the very veteran before whom one stands, being thankful perhaps only for his or her service in unrepeatable circumstances so very far away, a fog of war that any veteran struggles to recount to anyone, a service which, therefore, is in danger of being forgotten if heroism is merely about things done, if heroism is just that specialized, that distant, that out of reach, my usual mistake of “he’s the hero so I don’t have to be one.”
To veterans then, I’ve learned NOT to say “Thank you for your service,” but simply, “Thank you.” The acknowledgment is immediate, sincere, one of appreciated solidarity. And yet, even in this thanksgiving there can still be something missing about the heroism Joyce Kilmer lived out, the heroism which won him the enthusiastic respect in all good friendship of his brothers in arms and of our own respect today.
An Army friend of mine who was taken up as a field agent of the CIA much along the lines of Joyce becoming a kind of distant forerunner of the best of our CIA operatives, reprimanded me, saying that I had much to learn about thanking any veteran. He said that a hero isn’t someone you thank so much as strive to imitate with intensity of service at whatever cost. That’s it, thought I foolishly. Striving to imitate intensity of service is a real compliment, a real thanksgiving, and goes a long way and is what any veteran would like to see from anyone. But it still isn’t the full story and is certainly not quite yet an appreciation of the kind of heroism lived out by Joyce Kilmer.
We’ve all heard veterans of foreign wars like Marcus Luttrell or Robert O’Neill say it; we’ve all heard our friends in Law Enforcement and Firefighting say it; I’m certain that most who are here today have said it, as heroes: “I’ve done nothing special.” And then they add what our Lord said we will all say should we make it into the gates of heaven: “I’ve only done what I had to do.” There are those who think that this is what humility is all about, misunderstanding this as some sort of self-deprecation. But they miss the point. This isn’t false humility to say “I’ve done nothing special.” It is to say in Joyce Kilmer’s analogy, that any tree is awesome among any other trees, each having been made by God, so that each tree, each person is to do what they have to do, what they’ve been given to do, what they’ve been called to do in whatever impossibly unrepeatable circumstances they happen to be in. We’re all called to be heroes.
What was so attractive about Joyce Kilmer to his brothers in arms and to us today is that he knew he had what we can all have by way of God: we can all have a love that is stronger than death, a love stronger than death. “Let me have the most dangerous assignment!” said Joyce Kilmer again and again. A love stronger than death given by God. That’s what we recognize as what we are all to have, a love stronger than death given by God; this is who we are all to be, one who lives out what we have to do, what we’ve been given to do, what we’ve been called to do in all our impossibly unrepeatable circumstances. What makes the hero is that which all can have, this God given love which is stronger than death. “Let me have the most dangerous assignment!”
So said the eternal Word of God the Father: let me have the most dangerous assignment; let me stand in their place, the innocent for the guilty, so that I might have the right in my own justice to have mercy on them. And we know what happened next: “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life,” eternal life, a love stronger than death, the eternal Son of God, our warrior of goodness conquering evil because giving us of his love that is stronger than death so that we might also say: “Let me have the most dangerous assignment!” Jesus is the One hero, and we are all heroes in him, recognizing before this love that is stronger than death that is offered to us all, that we then do, in thanksgiving, what we have to do, what we’ve been given to do, what we’ve been called to do in all our own unrepeatable circumstances, as in Joyce’s day, so in our own. The thanksgiving that our hero veterans want to have is that we all become heroes.
My own prayer this day is that those who visit this forest, coming into contact with the eternal Creator of creation, might find out about the heroism of Joyce Kilmer, the heroism we can all have with that God-given love that is stronger than death, that love which is eternal. Only God can make a tree. Only God can make a hero. We thank God for all our heroes, begging that we might strive to imitate intensity of generosity by living out in our everyday circumstances, with enthusiasm, that love which is stronger than death. Thank you, Joyce. Thanks to all our veterans. Thanks to all our heroes. Thanks to Jesus for giving us a love stronger than death.
The Rouge Bouquet
In a wood they call the Rouge Bouquet There is a new-made grave to-day, Built by never a spade nor pick Yet covered with earth ten metres thick. There lie many fighting men, Dead in their youthful prime, Never to laugh nor love again Nor taste the Summertime. For Death came flying through the air And stopped his flight at the dugout stair, Touched his prey and left them there, Clay to clay. He hid their bodies stealthily In the soil of the land they fought to free And fled away. Now over the grave abrupt and clear Three volleys ring; And perhaps their brave young spirits hear The bugle sing: “Go to sleep! Go to sleep! Slumber well where the shell screamed and fell. Let your rifles rest on the muddy floor, You will not need them any more. Danger’s past; Now at last, Go to sleep!” There is on earth no worthier grave To hold the bodies of the brave Than this place of pain and pride Where they nobly fought and nobly died. Never fear but in the skies Saints and angels stand Smiling with their holy eyes On this new-come band. St. Michael’s sword darts through the air And touches the aureole on his hair As he sees them stand saluting there, His stalwart sons; And Patrick, Brigid, Columkill Rejoice that in veins of warriors still The Gael’s blood runs. And up to Heaven’s doorway floats, From the wood called Rouge Bouquet A delicate cloud of bugle notes That softly say: “Farewell! Farewell! Comrades true, born anew, peace to you! Your souls shall be where the heroes are And your memory shine like the morning-star. Brave and dear, Shield us here. Farewell!”
From the Catholic funerary rites:
Saints of God, come to their aid! Come to meet them angels of the Lord! Receive their souls and present them to God the Most High. May Christ, Who called you, take you to Himself; may angels lead you to Abraham’s side. Receive their souls and present them to God the Most High. Let us pray: We commend our brothers and sisters to you, Lord. Now that they have passed from this life, may they live on in Your presence. Amen. Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May their souls and all the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.
These are tiny laptop drives that a non-techy parishioner asked me to delete, who was getting rid of dinosaur computers but was not wanting to leave files on the hard drives. Not being much of a techy myself, and that person not requesting the drives back, and me later deciding not to want to bother with the old computers, the drives were put out somewhere between 5 and 10 yards. Three 9mm to the one on the left and a half a mag-dump to the one on the right. Haha. That was the extent of my target practice in this time of no ammo amidst Covid lockdowns and such. This kind of target practice is all calm, entirely efficient. I mean, the interior disks were reduced to a small and momentary metallic dust cloud with the largest shards of the disks pictured above, but all the rest being reduced to pretty much smaller than a zeptometer in size. That’s, like, really small. Hillary’s hammers are operated with such angst and distress and are so inefficient, so readable in their larger shards. And software? Pfft. 9mm target practice is fast and gets the job done and… and… is fun. I didn’t want to break my word about erasing the drives. :-)
Thanks to a combination of various services running overseas, I’m able to make some observations about those hacking into the admin section of the blog, the behind the scenes part of what it takes to make any blog work. I’m guessing all such hackers are benevolent, but I don’t know that. What they do with this or that particular hack, well, I have no idea. But I do see them at work. Kind of like the metadata of hacking hackers.
One particular reader / hacker / analyst / humint baiter and all-around good person by all accounts, used “invisibility cloaking” (in layman’s terms) a bit more than usual, then, if I’m correct on the who’s who thing, that person tested posting posts under my name. “Hmmm….” thought I. Perhaps it was just a mistake whilst perusing or perhaps adjusting some drafts or older posts, or simply writing entirely new posts under my name. I mean, I do have to wonder sometimes. Kind of weird. Anyway. I have little time for that. It’s all in the “Whatever!” bucket.
Anyway, I did NOT notice recent activity as far as someone else fraudulently publishing on the blog under my name as it all happened too quickly and then disappeared before I even knew it happened. But a good friend with a lot of sense and fairly good tech skills happened to be visiting the blog at just the time it happened, and then sent me a gently sarcastic text: “Now you see it, now you don’t.” After a few more texts back and forth – ascertaining that this person only goes to the top-front-page of the blog and not to archived posts, we then had a phone conversation. It became clear that something is up with a third party testing out some sort of fakery. The person who alerted me to this is a good friend, a loyal friend, absolutely trustworthy, with no reason whatsoever to misrepresent anything to me, ever.
So, this incident can be added to the “Just. Wow.” incidents I’ve been noticing these past number of weeks. Since I don’t think the person behind this incident is in any way nefarious, I also put all this under “Humor.” But it’s also without my permission…