Tag Archives: CIA

TWA bomb threat Rome-JFK: Is there anyone helpful on the flight manifest?

JFK airport runway 4L

The FBI’s Criminal Justice Information Systems accessed this post on the blog, now for about the thousandth time, this time apparently from Dunn Loring. Rather interesting, Dunn Loring, considering what one finds in and around West McLean, West Langley, Tysons Corner. I owe them a call. I digress. I thought I might say a word about my experience on the mentioned TWA flight from Rome-Fiumicino to New York-JFK in that ever accessed post. This incident on TWA does not show up in lists of terrorist events suffered by TWA for the reason that in the end nothing actually happened. I only mention it here to make yet another necessarily failing attempt distance myself from someone who stole my name as cover and is protected in his activities by the State Department. It’s one of those things which slightly lifts the corner of the veil. Mind you, this happened years before I was contacted by Main State, years before I was officially put on a perpetual program (that I knew about), years before I had any special “accompaniment.”

We were somewhere due-south of Iceland / Greenland, surely just over the halfway mark to JFK. Of a sudden all the stewards and stewardesses of the 747 gathered around my seat (that’s a lot), all very nervous, and said all in agreement and all at once that they had to ask me a certain question, hardly able to spit it out. One steward then spoke for them and said with the exactitude of someone trying to save the lives of all on board, each word punctuated and hanging in the air: “We have to ask you this question: ‘Have you had a course in how to negotiate with terrorists?'” Not the usual “Coffee or tea?” question. It’s a loaded question, of course. I answered ambiguously, saying I may be able to speak with our guests effectively. How many are there? What’s up? I asked. They explained that there were about twenty Arab looking passengers (I myself am guessing they were from Cairo, such profiling being unimportant) in the back of the plane who had just threatened to blow up the plane. As it turns out they had no bomb that actually exploded in the air.

When we landed we went to the farthest southeast corner of the airport, if I remember  correctly, the very end of runway – 4 L – , on the western side of the very end of that runway, basically with the wheels almost in the water, literally. In other words, we were as far away from any building as possible in case there was a catastrophic explosion that would take out not only the plane but a good chunk of the airport. It’s hard to list all the various kinds of vehicles that showed up at the scene as some of the shapes and sizes of the some of the vehicles were so particularly adept to specific disasters at airports and airplanes: fire engines, ambulances, armored troop carriers, assault team vehicles, endless military vehicles, law enforcement of every description and more and more fire engines and specialized vehicles.

And then the command: “Keep your heads down!” It was only said once. Then heavily armed, heavily ballistically protected operators, with shields and helmets with screens, balaclava endowed, the works, stormed to the back of the plane and assisted with the deplaning of those who had threatened the worst upon all present. Then we were deplaned along with our luggage. The plane was kept in place. There were buses but they took us only to the closest edge of the airport buildings.

Meanwhile, the pilot, nice guy, amidst all this chaos, made sure that the pilot of the connecting flight would wait for me. Hard to fathom that one, but it’s true. One stewardess, may the Lord reward her, helped me with my luggage – filled with books, like 85 pounds per piece. She ran with me across the airport carrying all this with me by hand, and finally a cart, and got me to my next plane. It seemed like miles. My heart melted at this show of humanity for me, I mean, mind you, amidst all the chaos. She was so thankful to me for having been there. I didn’t actually physically start in on our guests from the near east so as to neutralize their threat. Sometimes timers or pressurized devices instead need to found and shut down, or tossed, if possible (there are simple methods to keep such things both pressurized and get them tossed), but you might need the perpetrators’ help for the purpose of location. Anyway, they were threatened with having a “dialogue” already on the plane: you always learn about weaknesses, motives and connections with “dialogue.” They knew it. Terrorists are always cowards, tender snowflake entitled bullies. It is what it is. ;-)

Anyway, decades later, reflecting on all this, I had to wonder how it is that I was asked to assist. After all, I’m absolutely nobody with no off the charts skills whatsoever, especially at that time. I can only imagine the succession of events:

  • Our guests told a crew member that they had a bomb.
  • That crew member told the supervisor who informed the captain. They perused the flight manifest to see if there were any military or law enforcement officers or “others” on the flight who could help out, calling the tower in JFK to inform them of the situation and ask if they could assist in reviewing the manifest with specialized sources.
  • Only my name came up as a hit (because of the occupation of the person who stole my identity), though there was no reason given for the hit (as is the case with perpetual programs as related files and identifiers are then destroyed removing any possibility of re-deciding anything as to why the program is in place). Usually this involves agents in deep cover. They are simply beyond unmasking.
  • This being the case – a question mark – the instruction was given, risking an unmasking because of the circumstances, that I was to be asked as to whether I had ever had a course in how to negotiate with terrorists. Should I say yes, that would of course indicate that I had been at something a bit more advanced than *The Farm* or something a bit more than anything Quantico-esque.
  • Sometimes, people on these perpetual programs may not be operatives, simply those who are useful for whatever strained reason, or, like me, simply be among those who are used for convenient expedience.

When I thought he was in a moment that I might catch him off guard, I once complained to the guy who stole my identity that my subsequent accompaniment because of the perpetual program I was to be put on because of him – yes, I know him – was all a bit much, too expensive, a waste of resources, especially personnel, and he instantly interrupted me, incredulous at my stupidity, saying that this would be the least expense of the much larger progra… And then he cut himself off, flustered that he had gotten carried away and said too much.

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Jogging memories and then running

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Seems to me that the two guys mentioned in this post…

are the two guys mentioned in this post…

the same two guys mentioned in this post…

But, as they say, nothing is as it seems, even the “fact” that nothing is as it seems. It’s good to see things from different perspectives, to consult, not procrastinating, just waiting for more, a thin thread. Slightly jaw dropping in my little world.

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*The Company* and Soviet Moonies? Twenty five years later: 1993-2018

moon-smoke

I’ve been reviewing any Russian connections I may have because of some recent events, causing me to recall that which I’ve otherwise long forgotten, some rather mysterious visits from those with Russian interests some twenty five years ago.

Some timeline coincidences:

  • (1992) An Ambassador heading up responsibilities in Main State (the main campus of the Department of State) in Foggy Bottom wrote a two page letter to me about someone who stole my identity, but that they were going to ignore him and instead track me on a perpetual program, which would lead to the FBI in conjunction with Main State insisting on this guy continuing to entrench under my name even while I, a citizen in good standing, was to disappear altogether under a false identity.
  • (1993) I was assigned to a parish in upstate New York within the territory of which is the Unification Church’s largest seminary in the world. I had many talks with one of the heads of the Moonies there. Doing that, I became pretty much the number one adversary of the Moonies.
  • (1993) Boris Nikolayevich Yeltsin, somehow elected to the newly established office of President of the Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic (RSFSR), caved to pressure in 1993 and reopened debate on smacking down foreign religious groups. That debate continued until 1996 when heavily restricted registration of foreign missionary groups passed into law, along with heavily restricted registration of their activity including purchase or rental of properties for their activities.
  • (1993-1994) Visits (intense interrogations really) from two gentlemen saying they represented the Moonies wanting to give me carte blanche travel and contacts throughout RSFSR for as long as I needed. But let’s see a bit more detail…

Some 25 years ago, I was a parochial vicar (assistant priest) in a parish in upstate New York which was newly burdened with an inundation of the Moonies, political hacks who pretend to be conservative (they say they are anti-communist, anti-Russian), but, as they now fall apart, as fads do, a recent poll they took themselves reveals that the vast majority of their members voted for Bernie Sanders. So, are they really crypto-communists? Just askin’. They had recently bought out a theologate, a seminary of the Christian Brothers not far from our parish church, and headed it up with a “spiritual director,” an Irish born ex-Catholic priest who had been a priest for some 25 years at the time of his departure.

The Moonies were going door to door bothering my parishioners (who complained to me furiously), so I invited this ex-priest Moonie over to the rectory for a chat multiple times. He had given me a book on the “doctrine” of the Moonies and I told him I was cross-indexing it all in my head and that I had noticed they had a lot of inconsistencies and contradictions and otherwise gross misunderstandings of Scripture and Jesus and John the Baptist that I wanted to put to him, and his answer was simply that I didn’t have to get to know their “doctrine” (read: brainwashing) so well as all that because what was important is for me to just become a member.

Nevertheless, I was so effective in my arguments that his “wife” invited him to just go ahead and leave the Unification Church and become a Catholic once again. This totally gutted him. He almost collapsed in front of me. Apparently, all this was quite well known to the Moonie powers that be not far down the Hudson River. Apparently, I was really upsetting the apple cart where the “Rev” Moon was residing at the time.

Not long after these discussions came to a close, two gentlemen claiming they were somehow reps of the Unification Church came to have a chat with me on a number of occasions. They knew I had somehow become entrenched in divisions in the Moonies but were nevertheless wanting to send me on a mission to the territories of the freshly former USSR. The mission specifically was to work with the Kremlin for exceptional approval of the Unification Church and the purchase of properties. They intensely questioned me about my views on ecumenism and the world, interrogation being a better word.

They were absolutely unconcerned about anything to do with the Moonies themselves, with the Unification Church seeming to be annoying to them. They had to know that there was zero chance of any cult-like foreign “church” getting any approval when, at the time, there was a severe crackdown on pretty much all religious groups outside of the Russian Orthodox. I think they were offering me something like $25,000 as a first payment. Part of this would be coordinating shipments of whatever throughout Russia.[!]

I said I had no desire to help a group like the Moonies. They didn’t care. They wanted me in Russia. They said I could say that it’s like, you know, ecumenism, since that’s the new academic thing for Catholics, right? “No” said I. They still didn’t care, insisting I agree. I said it was cold there. They said I could buy clothes.

To put them off, I said that I had responsibilities in the parish here, which they totally discounted as it would be easy to get anyone to replace me in that small parish. I said that I would have to get multiple levels of permissions for this and the bureaucracy would be nigh impossible both ecclesiastically and civilly, both Stateside and in Russia and in the Holy See. This did not put them off. Rather, it seemed like I was finally caving in to them. They saw no problem forging ahead and arranging the necessary. Finally, I just said no. But they returned to the rectory to speak with me again and again.

They seemed like a couple of our own ops guys. They wouldn’t say how they were connected with the Unification Church. The point was that they were offering me a perfect cover that would get me around everywhere in Russia enabling me to see anyone, including in the Kremlin, all with the blessing of the Kremlin as the Kremlin continued to dialogue, soft peddling their hard line crack down on foreign religious entities. I was certainly ready for any background checks, bona fide with an ultra-academic background, forever in Rome, well established ecclesiastically, with increasingly “interesting” connections overseas. Basically, they were offering me access to do whatever it is that I would otherwise be able to do. The last group I would ever have associated them with is the Moonies. They could have spit on the Moonies. I would be more likely to say something like the George Bush Center for Intelligence.

Just one more anecdote which everyone has I guess. I draw no conclusions. But…

 

 

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²¹ºPo – murder portraying a suicide faked to be murder… or…

210Po

“The use of lead-bismuth as a coolant offers several advantages as a liquid metal coolant for fast reactors. A low melting point, very high boiling temperature, and stability in air are characteristics of lead-bismuth that can contribute to the safety inherent with liquid metal reactors. Consideration of a lead-bismuth must weight the possible drawbacks caused by the presence of Polonium-210, which is produced by neutron activation of the bismuth. This paper describes the results of a test program to evaluate the potential of Polonium to impact the design and safe operation of the reactor.”

— Abstract on Polonium hazards associated with lead bismuth used as a reactor coolant presented by the INIS Repository.

For some reason, I now recall the LMFBR guy who came to the parish. Stupidly, I just couldn’t place him at the time. For some reason, just now, ²¹ºPo comes to mind, and the question as to how to irradiate a microgram or even less of ²¹ºPo comes to mind. LMFBR.

Anyway, he showed up again at the same time as the enhanced interrogation / assassination GTMO guys showed up. All of them would know of the one time short-lived interest of Yasser Arafat and Alexander Litvinenko with just the very tiniest bit of ²¹ºPo.

Bill Binney was mentioned in the context of murder as “suicide” by the intel guys. But the purpose of that ever so strange meeting was to discuss the viability, so to speak, of another person altogether. Anyway, the LMFBR guy is checking out a few things for me. He’s in a different line of work than mere LMFBR. Just to say, one of the GTMO guys has everything in the nuclear and medical worlds down cold, as it were, so to speak.

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“You’re a ‘hotbox’, Father George!”

zero dark thirty hotbox torture

Enhanced interrogation can include the hotbox, which you can see pictured above on the right. The front side flips down and the person is crammed inside in a fetal position for a day or two. Really, really, really horrible. The hotbox itself doesn’t do anything, but certainly attracts the attention of the one inside of it, others having done that.

There are many definitions of hotbox, some related to growing cannabis, some to enhanced interrogation, some to solitary confinement, etc. However, in prison, a ‘hotbox’ is a prisoner who is constantly being surveilled, that is, more than others. For some reason or other or none, he’s got the attention of the powers that be, with the guards and administration always in his face. It’s not that he’s done anything wrong. It just is what it is. Entertainment. Perhaps a psychology module for continuing education.

Today I protested to Father Gordon that he might be more blacklisted than he already is if he’s associated with me, even though I’ve never met him, and only do some logistical things for him. He dismissed that, laughing, saying the worst of what he thought of me, which, he being good and kind, isn’t bad at all. He said: “You’re a ‘hotbox’, Father George!” After he explained what that meant, I protested: “I didn’t do anything!” He said, laughing again: “That’s what they all say!”

Ha ha ha.

If there’s supposed to be something annoying about being a ‘hotbox’ I haven’t noticed. I mean, if it’s not one thing then it’s another in life, right? If anything, it makes life interesting. Oh, that’s right. That’s some sort of Chinese curse, you know, to have an interesting life! I always thought it was fun. Make me the ‘hotbox’! Make me the ‘hotbox’! Me! Me!

I always did like extreme sports, doing things others avoid. It’s a No Fear! thing.

Be careful what you wish for.

How Kryptic can one be?

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Humint guy’s annoying cell number

map

So, just wanting to get back in touch with the self-admitted Humint guy who was giving me an assignment about murder portrayed as suicide concerning a named, still alive individual, perhaps so as to frame someone, I called the number that he gave me with it’s central Virginia area code, say, from Glen Allen, though if I didn’t know better, I would say this guy is in Florida’s far western pan handle. But, who knows. Whatever.

Annoyingly, an annoying Vodafone Smart N8 settings option played out:

“beep beep BEEP… The number you dialed is not in service…”

After hanging up, even more annoyingly, a menu then appears on the bottom of the screen, the typical annoying Vodafone thing:

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I suppose that’s a way to avoid robocalls. All I wanted to say is that I was offering some Masses for his brother who had unexpectedly died at the house just some weeks before. Anyway, he never called back.

The patience of Job is required. Dear Lord, grant me patience!

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Update: Why Rosenstein’s indictment betrays the intelligence community

spy vs spyUPDATE: Well, well. That only took a day for the White House to agree. The trouble is, they shouldn’t have had to think this through. This should have been known. Rosenstein is up to what? /////

When asked about Rosenstein’s indictment of twelve Russian GRU spies, Putin, of course, with a chuckle, invited Mueller and his investigators to come to Moscow to question them, adding, of course, with a chuckle, and entirely predictably, that his own investigators would then come to these USA to interrogate our own spies. Sounds fair, but what’s the upshot and why is this betrayal of the intelligence community? Because extensive proof would be wanted. We would have to reveal connections, contacts, assets, methods, capabilities, ways and means of all kinds. At any rate, that’s impossible on both sides, not just because neither side would want to do this, but because neither side could. The levels of impossible to overcome levels of physical deniability built into all programs, all actions, all deliveries of any kind of communications will stop any investigation in its tracks, even if everyone would sincerely want to cooperate. I mean, if you think you know something, a discovery, it’s only because it is desired by your opposition that you think this way.

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Day-Off: Assassins and Peripheries: Brothers of BVM of Mount Carmel

assassin hitman john wick under the gun

Sorry to be pedantic, but not even one person in this picture has proper trigger finger placement. They would all miss, even at that distance, shooting each other instead. How do I know that? ;-)

I’m a priest, and some think that it is odd, even untoward of me, even evil and bad of me, even making me suspect, if I step into the dark world of professional assassins and black ops operators, so that these few who criticize would resent my taking a day-off with some friends of mine. Why?

Have these critics been watching John Wick flicks and they think that that is what it’s all about? I didn’t even know who that fictional strained character was until someone [a fellow priest] expressed surprise at my total lack of cultural awareness when the name John Wick came up in conversation, and until I saw some scenes portrayed on youtube. The actor seems to have some street cred in that he actually trained to do what he puts out. Anyway…

Pope Francis told us, his Missionaries of Mercy, that we are to go into the darkest of existential peripheries (not that these are the darkest of anything). Ever prompt in my obedience to the Holy Father and wanting to be a good son of the Church, and certainly not wanting to do anything in half measures, I often head off into this world of “nothing is as it seems” – even beyond the borders of mere peripheries, in which the efficiency of death dealing betrays the falsity of apparently somersaulting loyalties.

A prostitute (now an activist invigorating laws against prostitution and getting girls off the street, who I introduced to now Saint John Paul II at Castel Gandolfo) once told me that, when she was still a “working girl”, a clergyman came into her working room while taking off his collar and putting this in his back pocket, as if this would make it all not matter. Later, as an activist, she met that guy in public and she asked him why he did what he did, and he answered that he didn’t think it mattered because people like her never convert anyway. You know, just like you can’t do anything for professional assassins and black ops operators… right? (I don’t mean to lump them all together so as to imply some sort of moral equivalence which is not there, but others do lump them all together, and that’s not right).

On my “day off” just the other day, the conversation of very many hours ranged widely. This was with the blackest of black op operators with the Military and The Company:

  • We discussed how some individuals are sloppy in their work of assassination, including some recent visitors to the parish who are known to me and how their mistakes are making for conclusions that are actually based on double-reversed baiting in that crazy and frenzied world of “nothing is as it seems.” He was quite disgusted with the state of affairs of field work with […].
  • We discussed, at length, the ill-forged empire building so despised by Bill Binney and a term which this guy brought up on his own. The technical phrase “empire building” has been thrown around with well founded cynicism for decades, and refers to preferring the most expensive solution so as to build more buildings, hire more people, buy more toys and more elaborate ways and means, ensuring one’s relevance to one’s own position of power, but has nothing whatsoever to do with national security, but in fact manipulates a lack of security (with purposed catastrophic consequences) toward the end of empire building. There are assassins, of course, who do nothing more than protect empire building. That’s too bad. And if that’s not in and beyond the darkest of existential peripheries I don’t know what is. Ah, but then there’s this:
  • We discussed analogous situations in the Church, where, for some, it’s only about power. Indeed. I’ve seen really a lot of that. Wherever people are to be found with a fallen human nature, there is where you will find at least a temptation to power for the sake of power cut off from service, cut off from love, cut off from truth, and therefore only an apparent power. A mirage having catastrophic consequences.
  • We discussed humility. Surprised? You shouldn’t be. A lack of humility is all so typical. Fallen human nature is so predictable. We could read it like a book, even if as a sliced palimpsest in purposed Kryptos, if we were but humble in being redeemed, seeing firstly in ourselves the lack we think we may find in others. But who has that humility? No one. Except by the freely given gift of our Redeemer. Humility is of absolutely essential importance. Power corrupts when there is pride which blinds.
  • We discussed a panorama of fires started by firemen, so to speak, involving wars and destructions of societies (I discovered more just how naive I am), all for the sake of coming up with a supposed need for empire building. This hit home, I must say, as I have had questions for many decades about various entirely anomalous and inexplicable, impossible situations that I saw firsthand in various countries, and now I know the rest of the story. How many have to die for empire building? I have friends who have suffered greatly until this day because of empire building. How very naive I have been. This priest learns from those who others overlook.
  • We discussed, mind you, the heights and depths and width and breadth, so to speak – respecting the Mystery, of course – of the Most Holy Trinity, that eternal dance of love, so to speak, and the living truth and love of Jesus walking among us, and the wherewithal therefore of us walking in God’s presence even in this world even as we step into the darkest of dark places. I let him bring the discussion around to the Most Holy Trinity. That’s all his description. Are you surprised? You shouldn’t be. Do you think it’s impossible for certain people to know God? Pffft. Take a day-off!

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Then, of course, the conversation turned to guns, which are, for me, more of a recreation than anything else, though a proper self-defense is indeed proper and sometimes needed, even by me. Pictured above is this gentleman’s mid-1980s Sig P226 variant. It’s what he’s used since it came out, you know, for work. I walked away with the gun of this best shot in the world (at least for a while, at least among our operators of all branches and groups of the military and our intelligence crowd here and abroad), you know, just to compare it with my Glock on the next day off. I will give it back, perhaps by means of a third person. I did get a few rounds out the other day just before nightfall. Yikes. I was instantly 1000% more accurate. Like coming home.

Anyway, I described to him what I enjoy doing with timed courses, SEAL, FBI, FAM… and he shook his head in disbelief, impatience. He said that each timed stage should be about 60% faster than what those courses dictate. He told me how to take the next step beyond these mere courses and how not to miss with multiple moving entirely way too small targets. Extremely counter-intuitive. I’ve seen a couple of others do this. It works. But I digress. That would all be a second step in gunslingery, with me stuck in the first. But there’s a third stage, more physiological/psychological. But I digress again.

I stopped writing here, yesterday, as it was then time to bring one of my elderly, poor and without family shut-ins to see her doctor, some hours away in these back mountains. It’s the Missionary of Mercy thing to do on my “day-on.” When we got back, she gave me a chair to fix, as it had collapsed on her.

Now, having spruced up the above writing with some pictures, it will go out on the blog. But my question for you is this:

  • Have you ever written anyone off?

If you have a talk with that very person about Jesus and humility, you might be surprised. You might learn something from them. I’m learning all the time.

Post-script: Oh. I almost forgot. The title to this post has something about the Brothers of the Blessed Virgin Mary of Mount Carmel. We recall – don’t we? – that these fierce crusaders, the special op operators of their day, overflowing with experiences of kills, after their duties of crusading were accomplished, went to Mount Carmel to do prayer warfare. But, mind you, this was for six months of the year in their little hermitages (I’ve been in them) and their common church (I have a piece of the cross that went over the entrance that the Discalced Carmelites let me have when I showed it to them). But, mind you, the other six months these “hermits” went down the mountain and throughout the greater Israel to preach up a storm, crusading again, this time with the sword of the Word of God. Don’t think for a second that they were somehow not on speaking terms with their friends of the crusades, their fellow “operators”, who had stayed on to watch over the re-establishment of civilization in the Holy Land, or that they somehow underestimated anyone’s capacity to walk in the presence of our Lord. The Brothers of the BVM didn’t underestimate our Lord’s work with anyone. Again, the question, do I? Do you? Yikes!

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DOJ Rosenstein vs NSA Bill Binney: GRU, indictment… murder as suicide

(1) Rosenstein’s unethical indictment

Number two at the Department of Justice, Assistant Attorney General, Rod Jay Rosenstein just made an indictment of twelve Russian spies, really of Russia itself, as they belong to Russia’s GRU, equivalent to our NSA, CIA, Гла́вное разве́дывательное управле́ние, Main Directorate of the General Staff of the Russian Armed Forces, descendant of the KGB.

This indictment is entirely unethical, immoral, manipulative, utterly political for the reason that there is zero hope of any trial. An indictment must never be made when there is no hope of a trial. The impression is that those indicted are guilty even though there has been no due process. This is the easiest thing in the world to do. You can indict a ham sandwich, but especially a Russian ham sandwich. It means nothing on one level, but has consequences for politics on another level. This was done immediately before Trump’s trip to speak with Putin. Oh. Politics. A political Department of Justice. Rosenstein is totally discredited. Rosenstein thinks the American people are so stupid that they can’t see through his manipulations.

[[UPDATE: Hahaha!  ]]

DOJ Rod Rosenstein NSA Bill Binney

(2) DOJ Rosenstein’s smacking down of NSA’s William Binney

Bill Binney was by far the NSA’s greatest genius, the guy who could come up with a simple answer that perfectly worked, getting actionable intel for otherwise impossible complexities, time and again. When things got political with our national security, subjecting these USA to terrorist attacks, Mr Binney became a whistle blower.

Meanwhile, during the announcement of the indictment, Rosenstein went on to speak about “Guccifer 2.0,” putting himself at odds with verifiable, repeatable experiments first brought to the fore by Mr Binney, that is, about transfer speeds necessitating not a hack, but a local hardware download. I find it interesting that Rosenstein went out of his way to indicate that this was all mere piecemeal internet hacking, when provably it was not just that.

When Trump had our ex-CIA Director and now Secretary of State Mike Pompeo utilize Binney’s know-how, some thought this looked bad for Trump, but that is not a necessary conclusion. When the best people in the world say something, like Mr Binney, one should listen to what they say. That’s always a good idea regardless of anything else.

(3) Murder as “suicide”: Bill Binney

As Rosenstein was preparing his strange statement about the indictment, I myself got a visit from a group of our top “Humint” counterintelligence, counterterrorism crowd, at the very top of their game, who are privy to plans and plots and all that goes on in that dark world, also by way of enhanced interrogation of the worst of the worst. Some would say that such knowledge is ill-gotten. At any rate, these are the guys and gals involved. At least that’s what they say they were, and perhaps they were at one time, but now, are… are… are… maybe just a bunch of nice guys who want nothing more than to protect Bill Binney.

Firstly, let me state that I am forever mistaken as being someone else in that someone stole my identity when I was just a teenager. The FBI and Main State, in consort, offered me a false passport, wanting to give this guy total access to my identity even while I was supposed to disappear entirely. I’m on (1) a perpetual and (2) an interdepartmental program, meaning (1) all details have been destroyed so that nothing can be connected with anyone higher up the chain (a common exercise) and so that no one’s op can be accidentally revealed by another department, and (2) my actual identity as opposed to the one who stole it cannot be unmasked except through a summary held personally only by the Secretary of State and the Director of the CIA (as was repeated to me, again, this time by Main State this past year). It is what it is, a kind of curse with strange visits through the decades. After all these decades, they have no idea whether I’m me or the guy who stole my identity.

Having said that, our “Humint” crowd gave me what the obviously ranking officer told me was an “assignment”, that is, to note well a possible upcoming murder made to look like “suicide” of Bill Binney. The word assignment is rather interesting. As one of our top guys in the DoD who accompanied me to this meeting said about the word assignment: “Oh s#|+”. But maybe they just want me to write about it so as to help protect Bill Binney. I don’t know. It wouldn’t mean anything if anyone else said it. But it’s these guys, whoever they are. This could be an assignment if I’m actually instead the person who stole my identity – to protect or take out Bill Binney – or it could just be a “counterintelligence product” which seeks a reaction or lack of reaction or change in behavior, whatever. Everything says something even if nothing is at it seems. If I follow up on the assignment in either way, then they know. If I don’t, then they are still wondering, except in this case there look to be a number of Strzok style “insurance policies.” It’s just the way things are done.

Insurance policies aggravate me. I’m a priest. I don’t like innocent people getting hurt. And they won’t if I can help it, part of the motivation for this blog post.

Not wanting anyone to get hurt includes the guy who stole my identity. I have no idea if he’s connected with any of this. He did Mexico. He’s into Syria (which involves Russia). But this? I don’t know. Whatever about him, he’s protected. No one will touch him, or me for that matter. That’s how “perpetual programs” work. Well, unless…

UPSHOT:

  • Bill Binney should watch his back. It’s not a good sign, one way or another, when these kind of people make intense comments about one’s demise.
  • Rod Rosenstein should stop doing unethical things.
  • Whatever about the aforementioned visit to yours truly, there is something which was related to me and then confirmed two days later back on 28 and 30 June 2017 by a certain division of Main State which would act as the insurance policy of Strzok. I pushed on that a while back. In involves counterintelligence and counterterrorism and the viability of our national security. Come to think of it, so does everything Bill Binney, and that Division of Main State. But, as it is…
  • Maybe I should start baiting baiters once again.

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Strzok’s future tense insurance policy

strzok insurance policy

Peter Strzok sent a *text* about Trump to Lisa Page concerning how a meeting in Andy McCabe’s office played out. Lisa wants to know why Strzok embarrassed her in front on Andy, dissing her short-sighted plan in favor of his own, which includes an “insurance policy.” So, Strzok says to her:

“I want to believe the path you threw out for consideration in Andy’s office—that there’s no way he gets elected—but I’m afraid we can’t take that risk. It’s like an insurance policy in the unlikely event you die before you’re 40.”

A life insurance policy isn’t put into effect until death comes about. In the analogy, the election of Trump is the death. So, to be pedantic, what happened in the meeting based on this text is as follows:

  • Lisa Page presented a plan merely to make sure that Trump would not get elected. That’s bad enough, but that’s all she has.
  • Peter Strzok has another plan, an insurance policy, which he had presented, stomping down Lisa’s lesser plan. Strzok’s own plan, his insurance policy, is to do something that will remove Trump should he in fact get elected. This is the object back-referenced with “It’s.”

The effective date of Strzok’s insurance policy coming into play does NOT refer to a pre-election time period, but only from the announcement moving forward that Trump has won the election.

And now Strzok is being backed into a corner. People do bad stuff when they are backed into corners. He could put his insurance policy into play at any time. I’m guessing that he doesn’t want to wait much longer. They are so sure of themselves that they can still make it happen. Way overconfident. People make mistakes when they are overconfident. And they have made a mistake.

Just a note to some “friends”: Extortion speaks to the players, to the motives, to those involved. It puts just a bit too much of an edge on things. It’s a mistake.

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The blog slowing down doesn’t mean…

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Of course, just because the blog slowed down for a while doesn’t mean that things haven’t been at breakneck speed. I’m still racing around to the shut-ins and the hospitals and nursing homes (the picture above being an on-the-way shot. The blog slowing down for just a bit could mean that things have been moving along faster than ever. I hope that doesn’t mean motus in fine velocior. Let’s just say: motus velocior.

Someone showed up recently – Army (counter)intel for years and now a handler for another rather important counterterrorism intel guy – to insist on giving me what he called an “assignment”, namely, considering the fact that if the demise of someone, obviously known to me (an insurance policy) were to come about such a person will not deliberately have committed suicide (a method of the CIA). Obviously there is a very specific person with a very specific intention to murder another very specific person in a way that makes it look like suicide and I should know, of all people, that that isn’t going to be a suicide but rather a murder. There were five individuals known to me who were individuated. So, there’s some sort of ultimatum being provided about what, I don’t know – or else – so that I had better stop whatever it is I’m doing that counterterrorism is interested in having me stop pursuing. I mean, there are a couple of things, one, in fact, that is rather far reaching and which involves counterterrorism and which would be embarrassing to a lot of people. I’ve been spending some time consulting on this with some rather in-the-know people, on a Federal level.

If anyone knows anything about me its that I don’t cave in to pressure. Ever. No compromise. Never. What is life if one sells out honesty and integrity and goodness and kindness and truth and respect for others, for individuals without whom there is no common good?

Meanwhile, I love being the country parish priest who brings Jesus in the Most Blessed Sacrament to people. But I would never compromise to keep that privilege either. :-)

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DC DMV & Fr Byers CIA vs Main State

Back at the end of 2016 I had written a post thanking whoever it was had paid for my parking ticket in DC when I was visiting Main State. In the comments section of that post I mentioned that it seems The Company paid for that ticket (as only they could), seeing that they visited the blog at the same time I had tried to pay that ticket and at the same time as I was putting up that post. Were they trying ever so nicely to send me a hint that The Company was claiming the credit of paying the ticket to show how nice they are? I like that. Very cool. But was that an accurate interpretation of their “visit”?

Not long after that, while researching Main State a bit, I came across a video of seminar given by a guy who doesn’t belong to Main State, but has an office at Main State, who does stuff in all sorts of countries right around the world and is often in the middle of policy mixed up with some pretty aggressive action, with that CV usually belonging as a cover to a CIA guy (as I found out just the other day from […]. It is what it is. That video seminar guy (a recruiting video for his office at Main State) is the one I had seen when I first saw the parking ticket. He was in the car behind me. He’s obviously the guy I was originally supposed to see at Main State. So, then I gave that guy credit for paying my ticket, but later I had marked that latter post “private” for whatever reason.

Meanwhile, yesterday, going some hundreds of miles to bring a parishioner to a hospital near Asheville, we were having a conversation about spooky stuff, you know, CIA, FBI, et alii. I mentioned this parking ticket story, giving credit to whoever for paying the ticket for me. Right after that, as I was to find out perusing my phone in the waiting room of that hospital, that first post got a direct hit with a provenance just outside the doors of the George Bush Intelligence Center, HQ of the CIA. Hahaha. ;-) I’m sure it’s all just a coincidence. As always. Just my ever so fertile imagination.

But the phone thing is weird. I had all tracking and whatever turned off a few months ago on my phone. I got a call from the head of the Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest crowd , wanting me to possibly head up the centennial memorial service coming up on July 30. O.K. We then hung up. At the time, I was no where near that Memorial Forest, nor had I been. Seconds later I got a communication from Google saying that since I was obviously an authority on the Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest[!], could I answer a few questions for them. That says a lot about voice to text algorithms.

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CIA’s Gina Haspel’s Oath to… God

Gina just took her oath as Director of the CIA. Her enunciation was clear, crisp, strong.

I bid you, compare and contrast Gina’s oath taking with the haphazardly spoken “oath” of POTUS Obama, so mumbled, so fumbled, so mismanaged, so ill-spoken, that it was feared to be invalid. So, taking it again, off to the side, somewhat hidden, and as a bit of a joke[!], it only got worse.

Thank you, Gina, for not being afraid to take an oath to God.

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Gina Haspel and Cardinal Ratzinger

gina haspel cartoon

Gina Haspel, by far the most prepared candidate ever for Director of the CIA inasmuch as she was able to follow just about every important case for decades. That reminds me, in a good way, of Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, by far the most prepared papabile ever, who followed perhaps every single important case in the Roman Curia for decades. Why wouldn’t you choose the most capable?

In the past, the CIA was nicknamed the Catholic Intelligence Agency, with good reason, on so many levels.

Yesterday I took the CIA aptitude indicator for a bit of recreation. I’ve done that a few times before. Always fun. This time, emphasizing different things, as they recommend, I ended up being most apt as counterintelligence working out of the Directorate of Operations. Haha. Recreation is important! So much so, in fact, that the Cardinal wrote of the Sacred Liturgy as “playing” before the Lord. A good analogy, if we understand the purity of heart and agility of soul of child learning to pray in all wonder and awe before the Lord.

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USA’s “Mechanic” died: USAF CIA U2 rockets missiles. Catholic. (*Not* FBI)

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Our tiniest of all parishes has wildly interesting people. Many are military and many number among the intelligence and scientific community. Jerry Hudson is a good example. (And, yes, it’s that Hudson.) We had his wake 5-4-2018 and the funeral 5-5-2018. He was edging on 80 years young. I will miss him sorely.

As with most ultra-extreme-genii who change the entire world in which we live, Jerry dropped out of High School. Jerry was profoundly patriotic, profoundly Catholic. He was scooped up by the USAF in his Junior year. They gave him further schooling, specialized, fit for his smarts. After that, he was known simply as “The Mechanic.” It’s like calling “Good” Will Hunting “The Janitor.”

At one point, Jerry went through the FBI qualification exams with extreme perfection.

  • He was so perfect that it is as if he himself had composed and arranged all questions, connections between questions, levels of meanings in questions and their connections, and scenarios, connections among scenarios, and levels of meanings among scenarios, able entirely to manipulate follow-up with the starkness of utterly dead-pan reasoning.
  • He was so perfect in all of this that he was turned down. In other words, the FBI felt themselves to be in danger since his intelligence far surpassed anything they could come up with. He would be able to run circles around them and there is nothing they would be able to do about it, and therefore he was considered a threat.

That hits home with me. I myself have seen it before, up close and personal, at by far the most academic of Catholic institutions. It is frustrating. There is so much that could be done. But, that’s just how it is. It is what it is.

In a what could have been imagination, what if the FBI had instead created a specialized investigatory IG position for Jerry. The Strzok and Comey scenarios and all the rest of the Department of Justice corruption would most likely have never come about the way it is today. Anyway…

There’s no love lost between the FBI and CIA. So, of course, after Jerry was dumped by the FBI, he was picked up by the CIA. I love that. Since he was “The Mechanic”, they put him to work on the U2 spy plane for its missions over Russia, from Turkey – yes, don’t deny it – where he kept the pilots in good order with good oxygen for four years. Mind you, he figured out how to do this for a plane flying many miles higher than the ceiling of our most capable passenger jetliners even while he himself was living in a tent (since you can’t have a base for a plane that doesn’t exist, right?). Mind you, today, we let our fighter pilots die in our own day because of CYA cover-ups, we not wanting to admit that we don’t know what we are doing in trying to keep the pilots in good order with oxygen. For shame! Sure, the guts of planes change. But we should investigate the procedures by which Jerry was able to figure out problems. We might learn something that will save lives today. Science is as much about method as facts. Knowing the facts doesn’t mean understanding. Jerry knew stuff, and understood, and could “fix it.” After all, he was “The Mechanic.”

And, by the way, that stint with the CIA helped to change quite entirely the course of the cold war with Russia. He was, perhaps, at that time, the biggest enemy that Russia had. He was also instrumental during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Jerry is a great American hero, yes, as CIA. I sometimes make purposed poking fun at the CIA, or what looks like serious criticism, but let me for a moment be serious:

CIA MEMORIAL LANGLEY

Meanwhile, “The Mechanic” worked on pretty much all the Apollo space missions – yes, those missions – and on pretty much all missile systems of whatever kind, air to air, air to ground, ground to air, from the sea, intercontinental… for whatever military manufacturer, for whatever branch of the military, pretty much everywhere. Yes, it’s him: “The Mechanic.”

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His baby, above. Just a few of the missions he worked on (but much more than these):

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Obviously, he was from Kansas…

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I mentioned that Jerry was Catholic. Most of the crowd at the wake and funeral were non-Catholic, mostly family from everywhere and friends. But there were also quite a number whom no one had seen before, were not related, came late, left early, and, if you know what to look for, very much fit the bill as reps for, you know, The Company. I’m very touched by that. Very human, that. And it’s a recognition by The Company of just what an impact Jerry made not only on America but on the entire world in stopping Russian imperialism dead in its tracks. With the passing of Jerry comes the passing of an entire era. He should be recognized in Congress post-mortem. The Air Force came up and did the flag ceremony for the burial. Very touching. They really did a good job as it was obvious this was much more than a job. This was personal.

Meanwhile, Jerry was always helpful, always encouraging, always a friend to everyone. Jerry encouraged me on my homilies, loving the irony of mercy being founded on justice. He loved that I myself led the rosary during adoration, saying that he never once in his life saw a priest doing that, and loved to see a priest who is a believer. As I say, he was always encouraging, looking for things by which he could encourage people. I mean, when does anyone encourage a priest? He did. That’s the kind of guy he was.

When he had some medical difficulties recently, we spoke of going to heaven as I gave him the anointing and such. He simply enjoyed life because he had a deep faith, a wild sense of irony. Those two go together, faith and irony, very well and make up the Jerry we all knew and loved. You’ll be sorely missed, Jerry. God speed, my friend. Tell Jesus how we want to get to the gates of heaven… and then get in!

Mind you, Jerry was a genius in the extreme. And yet he was always the little kid, full of wonder, always wanting to learn more, always thinking, pondering, but with joy, never with fear or bitterness, knowing that he knew nothing compared to what there is to know both in this life and in the life to come. Would that we could all retain our wonder as kids, and be joyful in learning about things here on earth, and then, please God, in heaven. Here’s Jerry in his younger days, just like his older days:

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Day Off: CIA, Glock, missiles, dragons

DUMPSTER DIVING

The day started extra early, chasing about doing errands. I ended up at the soup kitchen for lunch – having once been dumpster master there – having a great discussion about, what else, the CIA, with the rather special volunteers. There’s some… heritage… we’ll call it, of incisive military telecommunications among them. Because things are never as they seem, right?

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Then it was off to test out the Glock. I hadn’t had any practice since the trip NOT to “Smeerna” but rather to “Smurna” (Smyrna!). Better this time on the FAM course with a passing 90% though one shot was overtime by 0.15 hundredths of seconds (otherwise well under the clock), but worse on the FBI course with a score somewhere in the 70s. I ain’t good at the long shots. Mind you, that’s all with targets 7.4 times smaller than regulation.

I narrowed down some of the problems of the Glock to a faulty mag. However, even with a new guide rod / double spring combo, the slide would still not lock back on an empty mag except once out of very many times. The only way is to count rounds fired. Not easy with adrenaline pumping in a critical incident. At least it fired.

No more Winchesters, which now I’m guessing are out-cycled military ammo that’s really, really old. Now it’s Federal Brass FMJ. I noted that if I hit the loop wire holding up the little dessert plate target, the Winchesters would only bend them; the Federals mostly cut them right in half, I’m guessing with more brass over the tip.

raytheon

Then I took off from the hermitage to be back on my way to the parish. Meanwhile, on the way, I was taken aside to be given some fake news, you know, about our missile readiness, because, you know, that’s a normal conversation for me to have on a day off in the middle of absolutely nowhere, with cell tower dead zones many dozens of miles long. Of course, maybe that would be the ideal place to have such conversations. Anyway, this is sourced from the horse’s mouth, someone I’m sure some of you have encountered on the road. He’s the knucklehead with military tags who races from silo to silo, site to site, to do some “testing,” but going rather fast on the road, well into triple digits when he can. No law enforcement is going to stop him, not with those tags. I won’t repeat what he obviously wants repeated, which I’m sure is purposed misinformation. Otherwise, it would be among the highest classified military secrets we have. And he wouldn’t want to reveal any of that, would he? Sorry, my friend from NAS Pax.

keep calm and slay dragons

This is a topic which has of a sudden come to the fore…

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Bibi: Iran lied. But I’m angry with…

Israeli PM presents devastating array of evidence Iran is cheating on nuke deal

I am so angry. The Mossad is good. But what about us?! We didn’t know this?! Really?! I am so angry. This is a result of a failure of leadership in counterterrorism, counterintelligence. I happen to know something about that in regard to one of our Ambassadors in regard to Main State. But we’re rotten from the inside. We don’t care about treason. We only care about politics. Yep.

You may recall this recent post: Liquid Metal Fast Breeder Reactor – Conversing of LMFBR in my tiny parish. The LMFBR guy who came to visit me ought best to come round again. Why? Because, in his words, “we got conversations to have.” But at this point, I’m the one who will pick his brains right out of his head until he speaks freely. Then we’ll go along nicely to CT up the way so that I can throw his sorry backend in front of them, even Main State now that Pompeo is there. That LMFBR guy approached me moments after Israel was able to secure 1000 pounds of documentation about this subject and Iran. I mean, we would have watched all this leaving Iran and heading to Israel and we could be 100% certain what it was and we would immediately scrape the bottom of the barrel to find out what the consequences might be. That kind of stupidity puts millions of peoples lives at risk.

Update: O.K., anger has given way to celebration. This is one of if not the biggest intelligence / military coups in what we know of military history. Incredible. I’m so proud of Israel. To life, my friends, to life! I mean, just think of breaking into those safes in that warehouse, and then somehow moving 1000 pounds of cargo off that compound and into Israel. Just incredible. But it’s done. That’s just so cool.

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Baiting Baiters: Stockholm Syndrome

twa flight 800

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).

header emphasis

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.

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CIA FBI DoJ DoS: Schrier & Herridge vs omertà “Interdepartmental Rule”

matt schrier betrayed

Catherine Herridge is my most favorite reporter in the world, a true heroine in both her private and public life. For me, she’s followed closely by Matt Schrier, one of those “I just don’t care what happens to me if the story is important for the common good of the world” kind of guys. Catherine has taken up Matt’s cause. Read that story to the end.

Long story short, the CIA and others among the alphabet crowd used Schrier as a sacrificial lamb, making sure NOT to rescue him, making sure to keep him hostage in Syria, so that they could feed their own careers claiming successful data collection at his expense, you know, with the excuse that their own career advancement was for the common good of the world.

In the Constitution, what separates the USA from, say, terrorist or Marxist countries is that (1) we hold the individual to have God-given rights, (2) that it is never better that one man die than that a whole nation perish because, instead, we believe self-defense is a positive contribution to the virtue of justice. We will go to war over one hostage. Or we did do that. And we do that now, don’t we? We rescue hostages, not endanger their lives, right?

Matt’s terrorist captors stole his identity, the how and why and results all provably known by our intelligence services who were happy to track him instead of his terrorist captors since his terrorist captors were using his identity. They obtained in this way a wealth of information about the terrorists, it is true, but totally at his expense, he, by the way, not being a military or intelligence operator, he being tortured the whole time. Matt was now a Department of State “perpetual” “program.”

What no one counted on, what no one wanted, was that, incredibly, Matt, beaten and tortured, escaped. Instead of finding help from our intelligence services back stateside, he’s been smashed down by them, dismissed by him, marginalized into the darkest of existential peripheries by them. “Go away! Leave us alone! Go live in a homeless shelter!” He’s frustrated at their intransigence as his life continues to be their collateral damage, wreckage in the wake of self-absorbed self-congratulations of members of our intelligence community.

Omertà, the mafioso rule of silence, is out of date, and is appropriate only for low-level thugs and buffoons; it’s for mafia, cartels, corrupt law enforcement. Instead of simple omertà, the CIA, FBI, DoJ and DoS have something much more advanced, much more practical, devious, all absolving; it’s called the “interdepartmental rule,” the mother of all omertà.

This applies to Matt Schrier and is what is stopping the great Catherine Herridge in her tracks. If a “program” like Matt is “interdepartmental” – meaning that it involves various departments, CIA, FBI, the Pentagon with the Department of Defense, and so on, the Department of State (Main State) blocks all attempts by whoever even among those groups to know anything more about that program. If you already know and you are tasked, you already know what you need to know. No one else knows anything or can know anything. Only the Secretary of State or the Director of the CIA can “unmask” either persons or facts about that “program”, something that, if it’s interdepartmental, just isn’t going to happen. The reason is that one crowd can be doing something which simply absolutely cannot be known, cannot be betrayed, not even to another trusted part of what department, as this might well directly put the national security of these USA in dire straits. If another part of a department knows something because they are also tasked with something, this is independent of other parts of other departments, who can even be purposely tasked against each other, unwittingly of course. This lack of communication also hurts us terribly, of course, but it is deemed much more expedient than a sharing of information among our own intelligence operators. To repeat because it is so unexpected: “interdepartmental” doesn’t mean more sharing of information; it means that there must commonly be less sharing as no one should know what is known, it being just that sensitive, um, you  know, for the sake also of covering one’s back end. After all, who wants to be known as the one who purposely put Matt at risk as a sacrificial lamb? It’s just un-American.

When I saw this story I sighed. It is all too familiar to me. As long time readers know, I have long been told – dismissed is a better word – by Main State because my own case of stolen identity – this time by someone protected by, working for our alphabet crowd – is a case which is “interdepartmental” and therefore all records of it have been destroyed with a summary remaining only with the Secretary of State and the Director of the CIA, something which even an Undersecretary Ambassador of Main State, I am told, would not have the authority to even inquire about. That’s just two down from the POTUS. Dangers to national security for that which is “interdepartmental” are just that great.

As with Matt Schrier I was told by Main State that it is not the person who stole my identity that would be tracked, but rather me, since it is my identity that is being used. Main State and the FBI then offered me a false identity, which, at the time, because of just being ordained a priest, I turned down. Note that they wanted to protect the guy who stole my identity and make me, a citizen in good standing, disappear with no life. Ironically, a new identity is exactly what Matt wanted but couldn’t get. What I’m afraid of is that in the rare occurrences in which sacrificial lambs of our alphabet crowd find out that they are being used at great risk to themselves they are ignored, not helped, left in dire straits (as is the case with Matt Schrier, who has suffered so terribly), because of something which I myself did way back in the day. I rejected the new identity.

Based on what went on in our consulate in Rome when I went to renew my passport decades ago, when I was instead given a false passport without me asking for it, a “solution” put forward by Main State and the FBI, and based on their terrible disappointment when I turned it down, a disappointment that they continued to express to me for some months, basically telling me how stupid I was in not accepting their offer, and based on their locking me out after rejecting their solution, I’m guessing that a new policy was then created to never again give a false identity to one of their sacrificial lambs but rather just ignore them, no matter what, blaming the “interdepartmental rule.”

Now, it’s not that the alphabet crowd has lost sight either of me or Matt. It’s that they are so at ease in sacrificing others for their own gain. Matt was held hostage. He escaped not only because he escaped his terrorist captors, but somehow evaded our intelligence services during his escape. I’m quite sure we ourselves would have captured him and delivered him right back into the hands of the terrorist crowd if we could remain unknown to all. As my own identity stealer said to me when I expressed concern that I could end up being a captive because of what he was doing in my name, my going to prison because of what he did was just part of the job, all just part of it, you just do it and you get over it because that’s just the way it is. You know, it’s all for the common good. But he signed up for that life, not me. That’s not a problem, not for him, not for Main State.

There is no common good possible when God-given rights of individuals are ignored.

This is not just a Catholic or Jewish thing about rights (me being a Jew and a Catholic priest and Matt being a Jew). No, no. This isn’t about pressure group entitlement. This is about natural law, common to all peoples of all times and cultures and nations. Oh, and that’s why it’s a Catholic and Jewish thing, and why it’s a thing for our Constitution. This is who we are. Those who have thrown this away, hiding behind – oooooh – the “interdepartmental rule” for the sake, they say, of the common good, are to have their superiors investigated for betraying these USA because of betraying individuals. It’s not just Matt. Or me. There are untold numbers of individuals. Enough is enough.

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The other world comes to my parish because its the end of the world

dog among the pandas

The dog among the pandas is immediately, unmistakably recognizable. Right?

There are those who live in the day to day world, a surreal world unknown to be such by those who dwell there but known to be that way by those of the other world.

Then there are those who live in what they call the real world though they know that their other world is more surreal than the supposed real world of the day to day world.

We have a lot of day to day people in the parish. I like that. They do what they need to do to get through life and be on their way to heaven, come hell or high water, with all the sickness and death and drama and joys and sorrows that we all know. Good.

Because the parish is so very tiny, anyone from the other world stands out. All such individuals try to hide, but to no avail. If they were just newbies or those passing through from some other day to day world, they wouldn’t stand out. We would just notice some new faces and invite them to the social after Mass as always. No biggie.

But those who are, instead, from the other world stand out because they try to hide. They know they are different. They would like nothing more than just to be another soul in the day to day world, longing for this. They try too hard. Who are they you ask?

The parish is at the end of the world. There are lots of ends of the world in the world. They are all crazy places, like the end of Cape Cod, or Key West, or San Francisco. But here we have an out of the way place which isn’t crazy. Just day to day. And that’s what attracts those from the other world who are trying to hide without all the craziness. If only they didn’t try so very hard they would be alright.

  • There are high-value witness protection beneficiaries with escort.
  • There are those retiring out from specialized intelligence operations with escort.
  • There are those from the Department of Justice and other such agencies and companies just taking the scenic route between northeast VA and D.C. and, say, Atlanta.

You can always but always pick them out. It’s like seeing a liberal Catholic nun out of her religious habit. They never know how to dress. They always look odd.

  • The women come in wigs and big sunglasses, always with an escort who is obviously tied to them but is obviously not family, sitting elsewhere but nearby, always within line of sight, always in a pew directly across an isle. The women look totally spooked, totally shattered, totally in a different universe. One woman said to me: “They know that I have the right to practice my religion, to go to Mass.”
  • I’ve only once come across a man who had a handler, who, as always, was obviously tied to the guy but was obviously not family, sitting elsewhere but nearby, within line of sight in a pew directly across an isle. The two came in and exited thirty seconds apart. After Mass the one guy started talking with me about what was happening with him, on his way from a stint as an expert of assistance in GTMO. He was totally shattered. Totally devastated. He soooo just wanted to be in the day to day world once again. Then his CIA handler came out and heard what he was saying to me. What ensued was not a good scene, not a good scene at all.
  • Then there are the others just on their way to somewhere else, but still trying way too hard not to be noticed. It is almost comical with them. It’s like a uniform: jeans, but pressed, with creases, a button down shirt and a sport coat to hide the “carry,” a five day beard. Just too perfect in their slumming. No one does that. But them.

The first time I noticed anything like this was 25 years ago in a tiny parish church belonging to the Archdiocese of New York, but way up in northernmost reaches of the Archdiocese. Four men I’ve never seen previously came in together, all about forty years old, all sharply dressed with their sport jackets in the summer. There were only like eight others for the daily Mass so they could have sat anywhere together. But no. They chose a pew toward the back, as always, and spread out right across the the church. They were typical FBI, as described above (always the same, like Mormon missionaries!), but, as I was soon to find out, they were pretending to belong to the Moonies cult that had their largest institution in North America just down the road from the rectory (an old Christian Brothers School). They came to Mass a few times always in the same fashion, and then one day introduced themselves to me, inviting me to go to Russia as their special envoy, working with Moscow, but right across Russia, to adjust their policies on the exercise of religion. I told them how much I had tried to bring an end to the Moonies in that little town, but they tried hard not to let that phase them. They said that this was different. They wouldn’t take no for an answer. This went on for months, once every couple of weeks or so. Finally they gave up. But forever after that, I noticed special visitors trying not to be noticed, at least until they might introduce themselves with their otherworldly stories.

Some don’t introduce themselves, of course. They especially look to be trying way, way, way too hard not to be noticed. There was one lady recently for whom my heart broke. She had the usual wig and over-sized but not too dark sunglasses. She had an ever so typical handler. But it was the look on her face. Oh my. It’s like a Nazgûl Ringwraith sucked her soul right out of her. I prayed for her. People go through an unbelievable amount of hell in this world and they are really from this world and so desperately want to be in a day to day world but feel stuck in another world, unrelatable to the day to day world, not knowing which one is surreal, in a maelstrom of confusion. Sometimes it’s just all too much.

You would think that it’s so bad that in that other world we could crucify the Son of the Living God.

pieta

But we’ve done that in our own day to day world. Get it?

We disguise ourselves even to ourselves to pretend we are of the day to day world when instead we are from that other world. Yep.

When will we stop running?

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