Tag Archives: Counterintelligence

Counterintel Vultures vs Crux Kryptos

img_20181106_161114606~2680542546020761479..jpg

The locals call these guys turkey buzzards, which buzz around big as wild turkeys. I just call them vultures. I’ve seen as many as seventy in a “kettle” (as if swirling in a kettle up in the sky) above an active landfill that handles household garbage. But in the midst of the back forest ridges near the hermitage on any day off  I might see just a few on the road, like bandits. They’ve been here at the exact same spot on the gravel one-lane hermitage mountain road near the waterfall for the seven or eight years I’ve been driving this road, never with road kill, just owning the place. They’ll move just off the road for a vehicle that dares approach them. I’ve wondered what they would do if I were walking alone on the road and acted with timidity, skittish, hesitant, backing up a step, and then another. What I don’t have to wonder about is that acting with confidence is 99% of any success in dealing with any would-be adverse encounter, and can pretty much control any outcome. Bravely walk up to these monsters and they’ll run away.

Dealing with the dark side is one thing. Quite another is dealing with human beings who are not perceptive to mind tricks, but are instead wasted on drugs, especially the drug of, say, counterintel, and it is a drug, with all the same effects, unless… And, by the way, we’re all lost to mind games on every level of our lives, unless… unless we have a constant which cuts through all mind games, that which is more powerful than mind games, more powerful than anything we hold dear in this world, including life here. That Constant is the Cross. Love, like Wisdom, cuts through idiocy. The world spins about while the Cross remains a constant.

Solving Kryptos – Part 4 – Coriolis effect – Crux stat dum volvitur orbis

Kryptos 1

Don’t be lost to a palimpsestic faith. Truth is Love is God, ever ancient, ever new, always the same, always full of Life. Our thinking that we can edit Truth, edit Love, edit Life is where all our shattered ways bring darkness. In our stupidity, we think that spreadsheeting analysis of stats based on fallen human nature takes account of all reality and is the key to unlocking mysteries. Pffft. Soooo NOT. When it comes to Truth who is Love who is Life, so that we walk with Truth, with Love, with Life, then it’s no longer an iffy confidence manipulating success 99% of the time, then there is success 100% of the time, with success not being measured in this world, but by being drawn into eternal life.

There’s no greater joy before the angels of heaven than when…

Didn’t expect that, did you?

;-)

 

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Filed under Intelligence Community, Nature

CIA offer of invite for assignment to Vatican? Or not. Teenage nostalgia.

just me 04

Always happy to be humint-baited about my teenage years. One of my major faults if not sins (among so many of so many kinds on so many levels) is to be terribly and exaggeratedly and perhaps unhelpfully nostalgic as instigated by anyone who wants to send me down memory lane. Skills in analysis that I began to gain in my teenage years and which have developed more recently are fun to use on those teenage memories.

But why would anyone be interested to humint-bait me about my pre-graduation from high school teenage years? Of a sudden there is more than just a little interest. I have had quite a number of people contact me to tell me about how they’ve been interrogated about me, always with the verbatim question, a spotlight shining brightly on my high school years. Hmm? What could that be about more than forty some years later (now late 2018)? I mean, seriously. Is this an inquisition in the style of the one that was intended to bring down Justice Brett Kavanaugh, something about beer and orgies? Or is it something good natured (a vetting) or even more nefarious? It’s just another one of the many thousands of super weird events of this kind over the decades.

As long time readers will recall, one person it seems representing a number of others weirdly and out of nowhere recently threatened to sue me if I put up the picture at the top of this article, a picture of my own self with my own mom (RIP) and my own dad (RIP) in my own home during my own teenage years. I think I’ve had possession of that picture for something like more than forty years. I’m guessing a copy of that picture was made back in the day when my “Shadow” (the person who stole my identity back then) was trying to pass himself off as me, you know, with me having a clean record, permitting him to travel also internationally without being imprisoned (until he was thrown in maximum security prison in Mexico and then “miraculously” sprung for “no reason”). Perhaps it is thought that the picture proves I’m really me and that I actually existed before any “assignment” by the CIA, the object of the baiting. My Shadow, mind you, is my age and looks like me. Sigh.

Anyway, permit a couple of points to be made before beginning this rather labyrinthine if not serpentine walk down memory lane. As I say, when it comes to nostalgia, I’m perhaps too happy to oblige.

  • Recall, if you would, the one I call my Shadow, who took over my identity in my teenage years (Hey! Maybe that‘s what this is about!), that he continues to be protected in doing so by Main State and the FBI, who went out of their way to let him entrench under my real identity for the sake of his arms transfers to cartels under my name even while they offered me an alternative identity so as to make me disappear from the face of the earth (and therefore no longer be a priest, that is, when I found out about all this after my ordination from Main State) as part of the perpetual interdepartmental program I had already been put on by Main State for many years. Recall that I didn’t take them up on the offer. Anyway, one more thing:
  • I had a mentor in my teenage years, a good friend I speak about below. Well, as I find out only now as I write this post, it seems that he may have been “disappeared.” He’s one of those who, young, in absolutely perfect health, suffered a “heart attack,” which is the usual way for “The Company” to send the message to the world that someone has died and can therefore be forgotten about, but who is still alive and is simply re-tasked somewhere else after a job well done. I was only confronted with this information about his death while writing this post, that is, while researching the humint-baiting of myself about my teenage years since this past April 2018 when I was put on the DARPA-COMPASS program. It wasn’t long after that that the famous phrase was put before me: “The first thing you have to know about me is that I would never intentionally commit suicide.”

spy vs spy

So, let’s start with “The Question” that was humint-baited about me. The first I myself heard “The Question” was while discussing with my filling out untold numbers of forms regarding CIA matters with a certain someone. He posed “The Question” in the midst of that discussion and immediately integral to it, without skipping a beat – the seemingly out-of-the-blue question posed to me and later to many others in various ways but always quite exactly the same, virtually verbatim, concerning just how it is that (1) I got an offer (2) to be invited (3) to be assigned (4) to the Vatican (5) by those about whom we were speaking in quite the intense fashion, obviously, namely, those at “The Company”.

That’s a question which, even if it had anything to do with reality, is not a question for which an answer can be given, not even to an agent, whether of “The Company”, the FBI, or any of our other intelligence, military and law enforcement entities. The answer would have to prefaced with the old aphorism:

“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you, and in saying that, I’ve already said too much, so I’ll have to kill you even without telling you.”

That’s said just for humor, for all of this is, to me, rather humorous, at least inasmuch as any assignment by the CIA is nothing that I know anything about. But if it were true at all, well… then just recall the scene at the CIA canteen between the then analyst “Maya” and the then Director of the CIA:

Things get compartmentalized and are on a need to know basis such that even the Director is to be shielded from such information. Knowledge can come back to bite you. In my case, a request for unmasking (unwittingly dealing more with my “Shadow” than myself) would not be honored except with an investigation as to why it is that such a request was made for the summaries kept only by the Director or the Secretary of State. So, if the question cannot be asked, why ask that question? Yet, that very specific question has been repeated ad nauseam to me and others who have nothing to do with anything. It’s the involvement of those others that’s a bit weird. And the insistence.

The short answer to the question is this: I may have come to know really a lot of CIA crowd, agents and assets, male and female, young and old, active and retired, supervisors or in the field or otherwise, on whatever levels, across the decades and in so many countries and diverse situations, but I vigorously and categorically deny that I have ever worked as a salaried employee of The Company. In filling out untold numbers of forms over time, its not like I myself used them for the ends intended (but no fraud!); for me they were more like the recreation one might have in creating a counterintelligence product. Sure, I’ve been asked to be a spy, sometimes nicely, sometimes with a bit of extortion, sometimes with caginess, sometimes overtly, sometimes playing on my patriotism, sometimes with threats, by some of the more desperate agents in countries and in situations which afforded access to me but not to them when all was at risk. But I was only a seminarian and then a priest trying to do my best to follow Jesus. I don’t think any of that means I was invited to be assigned, blah blah blah. I think people may be confused about me and my “Shadow.” Whatever.

Mind you, I chuckle, loving this question about being “assigned.” Nostalgia is lovely. And mind you, the repeated yet discretely asked and appropriately timed “Question” does NOT so much regard any assignment or any results as much as how any assignment came about. And that necessarily transports me back into a time previous to any such assignment. The interest right now is not in what I did after any assignment, but what was going on that brought about any assignment. Get the logic?

Considering when I first went to Rome, this would bring me back into the mid-1970s, when I was still in high school, before I really knew much of anything about any seminary anywhere, though I made no big secret of my thinking about becoming a priest.

The question, moreover, isn’t so much about me as about those who were preparing to make any such assignment. “The Question” seeks my own personal assessment, not of me, but of those offering any such an invitation for me to receive any such assignment: How is it that any such an assignment came about? My assessment of any such decision of others… That’s what’s sought with “The Question.”

FBI West Palm Beach FL

As it is, those who are to be assigned early on are, in fact, analyzed right through high school. Lots of “Company” men and women have been recruited out of high school or soon thereafter, not only the lady who found UBL, but also “The Mechanic” of this parish, a friend [USA’s “Mechanic” died: USAF CIA U2 rockets missiles. Catholic. (*Not* FBI)]. After the USAF plucked him out of his junior year in high school, and after he later so aced the FBI exams that they were afraid of him, the CIA – having no fear of a genius – snatched him up. It’s these kind of people that make “The Company” a temptation as a kid. But temptations don’t have to be followed.

Anyway, it’s not that “the Company” and the FBI have always shared information, but I would have been on the radar generally speaking already in high school for any number of reasons. This list of possible hits on a radar for candidates is my way of answering “The Question.” This is just a quick list. I’m sure I could add lots more pertinent things. But this is a start.

So, here’s the longer version of the short answer:

north junior high school

  • As I’ve written about previously at length, years before high school I was an unwitting victim of the kiddy porn industry, that is, a victim in what was surely the biggest porn operation in history, generating a near infinity of pictures, and an unimaginable multitude of professionally produced films. To this day I have not heard anything that has even come near to what happened. That’s saying a lot. My dad, finding out that I had been in the car of the boss-man immediately tried to do something about it. It was a pretty fierce night for him on the phone followed by some pretty fierce anger in the following weeks, not with me, but with the whole situation. This would certainly have been an FBI investigation in which I was named as someone needing protection. Talk about being on the radar though for a weird reason.

cadillac limousine

  • My dad was mayor of the city I grew up in. He was top attorney in the entire region of the state, building the first “sky-scraper” in that region. He was often down in the capital building and knew everyone everywhere, including the national politicians. He was close in with the FBI and often invited me as a youngster to come to meetings with the FBI, introducing me to them and making sure they knew about little me throughout my years in Junior High School, High School, and in the summers of my first half dozen years in the seminary. Talk about being on the radar, this time for a positive reason.

Dads law offices

  • Mine was not a normal high school. I was in a highfalutin filthy liberal Catholic but highly academic prep school attended by students from all over North America and from countries all over the world. And yet, in the midst of the filth and in the midst of the heresy and in the midst of the utter disrespect for the Holy Father and the Magisterium typical of the mid-1970s, amidst the trouncing of Sacred Tradition and Sacred Scripture, in the midst of horrific experimentation with Holy Mass, in the midst of a breakdown in morality by Church leaders, I was stalwart, and became the enemy of the powers that be, getting bullied and put down as naive and unsophisticated and not up to date when, alone, I would stand up for all that is good and holy and ecclesial. I would hunt down the Tridentine Masses, as they were called, in the “catacombs” below the Abbey church. I was made into an example publicly. I totally “blame” my guardian angel for this. I apologize to my guardian angel. Surely he had to work overtime with me. Surely he did more face palms because of me than even he can count. I was perhaps so persnickety about the faith because I realized just how much I was in need of the faith, especially of the confessional. That’s not being persnickety, of course. It’s doing the one thing necessary. How much better could I have done for our Lord if I had only applied myself more to the learning of the faith? How many missed opportunities? None of this was unseen by my special mentor in my Sophomore year (I had transferred into the school from elsewhere). More on my special mentor below. Being on his radar was, I think, being on another radar.

angel face palm

  • Weirdly, my out-of-confines-of-the-high-school were also on the radar of my mentor. So, what was that like? It might be thought I was a freak of sorts, in that I didn’t do the “normal” things. No drugs. No parties. No sex with either sex (though I was on occasion aggressively sought out by both [that assessment not including my girlfriend with whom I would go on long walks, long horseback rides, long car rides on the forest gravel roads, or play tennis with or just sit around and talk with, sometimes speaking about how many kids God might grace us with should we get married). But, notice the negatives: no drugs, no parties, no sex. Considering the negatives, don’t imagine that I was a paragon of virtue, which would have been a positive if it were true. I was surely like everyone else in every way except that perhaps what kept me in line was the stunning untowardness from some few, including one girl my age not from the area who admitted to being sent to me by others in order to make me fall[!]), and, as I say, untowardness from porn producers, from adult stalkers, etc. I’ve already written about my success in surviving such encounters. My non-conformity with the lowest common denominator didn’t go unnoticed. In fact, I impossibly heard about my own whereabouts from others, and my activities, and what my life was like – with much solidarity – though I was flummoxed as to how they could possibly know, and all of this in at least as much detail as I knew myself, and perhaps more. Did they know of my getting shot at on the road I lived on, on so many occasions, some dozens of bullets all told as a kid: shotgun (perhaps a dozen shells; I felt the spray) and rifle (I remember the whizzing sounds of dozens of bullets all told at that time)? I never talked about it. But they sure did make me feel loved. They marveled at my situational awareness even then. That was encouraging. Perhaps this knowledge of my private life helped others to open up to me, that is, those with suicidal ideation, quite a number. The powers that be would thank me for my efforts in these situations, particularly my special mentor. Some situations were pretty dramatic. I remember them well. Just getting nostalgic about this, I call to mind, now, some half dozen people who did not commit suicide after long and sometimes multiple conversations. I recall a couple of failures later in life in Europe and the West Bank. One killed himself so as to escape being used to kill others, a success in its own weird way I guess. Another waited ten more years to become a suicide bomber, at least that much delay, a success in its own weird way I guess. I’ve written of those elsewhere, but those last two were long after high school and so of no consequence here.
buckwheat horse

This could be a clone of my el cheapo horse “Buckwheat”, basically thrown away by his previous owner as being too independent minded for any would-be rider. We were, instead, great friends. Not a donkey, but that’s fine.

  • More of my private life was known. I found great solace in reading the Baltimore Catechism. I basically had the sections of the advanced catechisms on how to go to Confession pretty much memorized. I loved Confession. I went to Confession, a lot. I had a good confessor. Meanwhile, since preparing for Confirmation, I thought reading the Bible was super enthralling. For instance, I spent many weeks, actually, months on end, immersed in a mania of artistically depicting scenes of the Apocalypse with comprehensive exactitude. I showed those to some. Diversely, at school, I was one of the best amateur potters in the region, immediately getting an audience when I sat down at a wheel, even doing on demand performances of “throwing” pots in mere seconds. The school itself gave me truckloads of stuff to help me build my own hermitage so as do some serious reading, writing, drawing. I would get on my fastest of all fast horses known to anyone (which we got really cheap – almost for free – since he was ornery and small) – bareback (he was barrel-backed) mind you – and go chasing around the countryside and forests and hills and dales, around lakes, into lakes, miles and miles and miles. This was sometimes done with those from school, sometimes with my girlfriend, sometimes on my own. Or I would go out on a dirt bike, practicing climbing super steep ridges without letting the engine choke out, also sometimes with others from school. Long rifle sharp shooting (not super successful) from both over super rough terrain, in and through trees and thickets, over fences. Nothing interesting here. But people were interested. Again, and this was kind of weird, they let me know about it. As I say, it seems someone who knew me well wanted others to show me lots of love. They would come up to me in all solidarity, like, once a week like clockwork, one after another within a day or two, until the next week. And then it would all be repeated. I wonder if that was my special mentor doing all that. He carried really a lot of weight with everyone at school. Much appreciated, I guess. More on my rather special mentor below.

euclid school of athens

  • I would also think, a lot. I would spend hours on end, days, forgetting about time, training myself to think while sleeping (this works great and I’ve kept up this practice), trying, at the time, to figure out what are considered impossible mathematical conundrums, and then afterwards, taking a break, going golfing or sailing with a friend in my class to talk about these same mathematical impossibilities (before my junior year in high school) which he, also on his own and without me knowing about it, had been working on in the same exact ways, including purposely dreaming about them at night so as to come up with hypotheses that had to be tested during the day on paper. That was a revelation. I wasn’t alone. But it was only us two. But I guess it was all “normal.” That turned what was a challenge into great fun. Well, that was true until a math prof in junior year gave us an end-of-the-world exam about which he warned us every class for six weeks (class being four times a week), at which he wrote out three super complex equations in the air, not on the board, describing them orally, and we had to figure out what he was doing while he wrote out in the air all the square roots and divisions and letters and multiplications and more letters and rubbish of all sorts with parentheses or not. He did this three times and called on me all three times. I got them all right. He made an example of me publicly. Not sure why. Was it my special mentor at work behind the scenes getting him to do this? They all worked for him. He just about didn’t make it out of the classroom alive as everyone was so angry with him for the reason that I was deathly sick at the time. I was made an example of a lot. Even if that all proved to me that “I could do it”, it all nevertheless turned me off from doing math. But I’m sure that wasn’t the intended result. I was instead much more interested in counterintel, of all things because of my special mentor. Who is he, you ask?

PROMETHEUS

  • My psych exams over a lifetime must have also been pretty wild. I’ve had heaps of zillion-question psych exams since my youngest days back in the 1960s. “These are experimental psych exams”, they said. “I’m in,” I said. “You don’t have to do them,” they said. “I’m in,” I said. Even as a tiny little kid I was quite self-aware and without being able to put a name on it, I was quite into counterintel, suspicious of what what being asked. The first exams were, I think, in fourth grade and sixth grade. I never liked manipulation. I suppose that was seen by the writers of the exam and its earliest reviewers of results. I was forever being put in classes for “gifted students” since I was a little kid. We were “special” as we were always told, so, whatever. ;-) I kept taking versions of these zillion question exams. My special mentor continued giving such exams to us. He simply couldn’t get over what these said about my leadership qualities. He took me on as his special project, wanting to encourage some rather peculiar leadership skill sets, for which I was, impossibly, 11.2 on a 1-10 scale in the most recent set of zillion question exams. My mentor and I would have ferocious in depth conversations in which he would elicit my advice about whatever different sets of circumstances he would put before me, a baiting-training in for counterintel. The scenarios were progressively wildly complex, with, for instance, seemingly innocuous details which came to be of central importance. He was really good at bringing me from one step to the next, quite happy when I learned how to be multiple steps ahead of him, stepping back, able to survey what was going on, turning the tables and putting him under pressure. Ha ha! I loved this kind of challenge, formation, mentoring. These conversations would go on for hours on golf courses, often having us stop dead in the middle of a fairway, or on a green, or sandtrap, explaining, arguing, refining appraisals of perspectives of characters in the scenarios who were, perhaps, not so imaginary, but rather people he had to deal with. He even came out with names once in a while. One scenario was, apparently, deadly, deadly, deadly serious, and he almost quit after we teed off on the first of our 18 hole extravaganza that day. But he got it. Those were heady days. I’m sure I was tempted to outrageous arrogance because of this. But these experiences did bring me into an entirely different universe of dealing with people.

rifle

  • My mentor once wrote about me in a certain famous letter that should I end up in Rome where I would be able to survey fully the state of the Church and the world, in having a choice before me, I would likely be drawn to a life choice that would allow me to put into play other skill sets he saw within me, those being perfect, he thought, for counterintel. As another example of his attitude, he singled me out in front of the entire junior and senior classes (some hundreds of students together), saying that I alone among all of them could resist manipulation, hypnotism, subterfuge (in a word: intel, counterintel), turning the tables. There was just absolutely no way that I could be brought down, he said. Most just took that in. Some congratulated me, but still just took that judgment upon themselves. Some others so very angrily objected to being categorized as being such pushovers that they proved his point with all these others. As I looked around the assembly hall at the reactions of my fellow students, typical of me, I instantaneously thought of this as yet another of his counterintel “products” also for me, and therefore also noticing my own reactions both to him and to the other students. That any footprint of his upon the earth was entirely erased after I graduated is rather distressing. I have offered many prayers for him, many Masses for him. Try to find out if he ever existed, and there’s nothing. I heard a rumor once that perhaps he died. The FBI and Main State would attempt to do that “perhaps” thing with me when I got to be his age (the whole alternative identity thing that I didn’t request). I resisted, in Rome, contrary to what my mentor had predicted. Or is what I did at that time another counterintel “product”, you know, because nothing is as it seems? ;-)

Anyway, to repeat the question:

Just how it is that (1) I got an offer (2) to be invited (3) to be assigned (4) to the Vatican (5) by those about whom we were speaking, obviously, namely, those at “The Company”.

I would have thought that much more interesting would be how anything like any of that would play out over in Rome. That’s for another post, a story over the years full of spies and counterspies and such. Mind you, in this post nothing much was said about me being cover for my “Shadow.” Let’s just say that the more I’ve been involved in whatever way with terrorism and coups and shady people of all sorts on whatever side of things, the easier it is for my “Shadow” to continue to entrench under my name. It is what it is.

Anyway, that’s all kind of the answer to “The Question,” I’m sure creating more questions than answering anything whatsoever. But that’s the murky world of murkiness of the darkest of existential peripheries in which many live their entire lives as if that were somehow normal.

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Filed under Holy See, Intelligence Community, Patriotism, Politics

FBI trying to suss out CIA? vice versa?

FBI West Palm Beach FL

Someone has thrown me into a tizzy in recent times, pushing hard on just how it is that when I was still in high school I was being brought into the CIA so as to be invited to be assigned to the Vatican. Not an everyday question. Hmm. I’ll have to think about that. It’s all shameless humint baiting, of course. I’m always happy to oblige when it comes to nostalgia.

Meanwhile, some people come to mind:

  • Our much loved Headmaster. Upon many zillion question psych exams, and seeing that I came up with 11.2 on a 1 to 10 scale for leadership – the scenarios presented for that, so very many, were sooo subtle – he took me under his wing for special training in leadership. The school had leadership camps for kids, which I never went to, despising them, I guess. But I made up for this by special tutoring. This headmaster taught me, of all things in the last few years of high school, counterintelligence. This training went on for years. Very intense. About eight hours each session. Going step by step, with ever more complexity. So intense did it get that he used real names once in a while, apologizing for this. All exhilarating for me. He wanted to make sure that I could never be duped by anyone for any reason in any way because of seeing through whatever I came across. He was super young for the position he had, in perfect health, but then dropped dead of a “heart attack” shortly after I graduated.
  • A guy I’ll call “The Janitor.” Military. Brilliant weapons guy. He shadowed me everywhere, right around the countryside. He was going to help me build my teenage version of a hermitage but my dad wanted me to build it by my own ingenuity. But the shadowing got to be annoying. I learned how to take evasive action, which is what he wanted, of course. When I asked him about it, sometimes pressing him on this – and many times over the years – he would steadfastly only give me the non-answer that I would see in the future what my future would be, but that this had everything to do with what others were assessing of me. He denied everything I guessed, which left me flummoxed. I’m guessing he’s long dead by now.
  • Peter Paul Strzok II. Just as an aside, I’m guessing that I met another alumnus, a present nemesis, of later counterintelligence / counterterrorism / military / FBI infamy, that is, if he had ever as a youngster come over to my parish school for a “Spanferkel” experience so as to get him recruited while being at one of the many levels of leadership camps we had. We had lots of language schools as well.
  • FBI agents a dime a dozen. From the time I was a little kid, then in Junior High School, then High School, then the first couple of years in the Seminary, my dad, himself very high profile, would invite FBI agents to town all the time for the elite crowd there, and go out of his way to make sure I was there so that he could introduce me to them, making sure that I was on their radar.

Anyway, I’m mulling over the question.

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Filed under Holy See, Intelligence Community, Vatican

Murder as suicide: Did Pope Francis get his intervention? So far so good.

joint

I’ve written previously of this relatively recent incident – a conversation at a meal at a private house with many military officers and others – but I refrained from mentioning the involvement, so to speak, of Pope Francis in that conversation. Perhaps I should be more fulsome in these hectic, confusing, dark times. Here’s more detail about that evening with some of the top of our intelligence community. I think it’s safe to say all this now, two full months later. If it had anything to do with Pope Francis in the first place, whatever was happening with the murder as “suicide” thing is a danger which is surely now passed, I guess, maybe. But one should keep up with situational awareness, including those around Pope Francis. After all, there are those who wish harm upon the Holy Father, who do not hesitate to use extortion. Have we forgotten this scene with Mehmet Ali Agca?

fatima pope john paul assassination

I should emphasize that this was a strange evening. In walking into the house… well… it took like 40 minutes to get beyond the entrance as a discussion on what happens at GTMO was so intense, but I digress. Back to the mid-meal bit about Pope Francis:


Intel officer lady standing up and changing the topic: “Hey Father Byers: Pope Francis… Is his papacy viable? Is he worth it?” [This question about “it”, that is, making an intervention on his behalf, was clearly the point of this encounter with some twenty people, many who are in counterintelligence, counterterrorism and are at the top of their game. Everything went silent at this question and some of the main players were able to catch my eyes while they pointed at her, at her question, nodding their heads so as to say: This is it, the reason for this whole evening: Pay attention to the question. For that moment you could hear a pin drop. One stated the importance of the question to the immediate agreement of the others. The question about Pope Francis being “worth it” refers to… what? Since this crowd was making a big deal out of their knowing about every terrorist plot there is as a preface to this question, what am I supposed to think? It’s only a guess, but it is probable that they were taking seriously one of the many thousands of terrorist murmurings that are always being mumbled round about against the Vatican and the Holy Father, both “chatter” and direct threats. It’s only a guess, but it seems a question was posed higher up as to whether making an intervention on behalf of Pope Francis would be in the interests of these United States. Pope Francis, mind you, states that President Trump is not a Christian. Pope Francis, mind you, can offer Mass on the South side of the border fence. Pope Francis, mind you, doesn’t hesitate for a second to interfere in political / economic controversy. On and on. So, Pope Francis being “worth it” is a question. Indeed, I have to think that even the details of methodology were discovered, as we will see below, the whole murder as “suicide” thing.]

Father Byers to all present (paraphrased, as this part of the evening lasted about an hour): “Always, no matter what, any Pope’s security is worth an intervention. Stopping anything untoward against the leader of 1.3 billion people benefits the common good on so many levels and in so many ways. We believe that the papacy is not just some office, stuff to do, but is founded on the person of the successor of Peter himself. To strike at him is to make an attack on the One who has constituted him as Bishop of Rome. But let me tell you why in particular Pope Francis is ‘worth it.'” [A most intense discussion ensues for about an hour. At about the 45 minute mark, this happened…]

A senior GTMO interrogator knowing just about every terrorist plot and clearly with an ax to grind intel officer to me, shaking his head in rejection of my arguments: “Pffft!”

Father Byers baiting the same Senior GTMO interrogator: “Hey! You would know a best friend of mine who lives not quite around here, but, you know, right in this region. He would get permissions exclusively from the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs – not the Chiefs – but only from the Chairman. He’s the one who would deliver detainees from black site to black site all around the world. We’ll call him a logistics guy. You would have met him many times. He would know you well.” [Since this conversation I’ve come to know yet another deliverer of detainees, logistics guy, who has been to GTMO many times. Interesting. It seems I’m getting to know all of them.]

Senior interrogator at GTMO: [He didn’t respond other than with two unmistakable tell-tale body language signs]:

  • Momentary fear in the eyes; he knows he can now be exposed, either as outright verified or as using the GTMO thing as a cover. I do have friends, one being frantic to say it is impossible to verify such things. But that’s irrelevant as, either way, the fear of this guy at the meal reveals the veracity of something serious going down.
  • Simultaneous to the fear in the eyes thing, he suffered a slight, bodily caving-in of the chest, accompanied with a slight shrinking in his chair, just a centimeter back and down, but visible, fearful, not wanting to believe what he just heard, a flight response of fear. He’s knows he’s just been had, totally. I really shouldn’t do this. Perhaps this is my weakness: being an enfant terrible, as the French say. Sometimes it seems it’s just too easy. Maybe it’s made to be too easy. Yet…

Top counterterrorism, counterintelligence guy to me, obviously the senior officer in this discussion but privately, now at the end of the meal and making our way outside the house: “I think you are right about Pope Francis.” [I was giving an impossibly positive spin on Pope Francis’ actions, trying to demonstrate that he’s worth the effort to save with an intervention. I think he repeated some four times in two minutes as we were walking outside and then again outside that he thinks that I’m right about Pope Francis. So then he says:] “I have an assignment for you.” [“assignment” – he’s baiting to find out if I’m the guy who stole my identity decades ago so as to do “assignments,” or if I’m me. Perhaps he knows I can have a chat with the head of security at the Vatican.] “Pay close attention to what Bill Binney [NSA metadata predictor of critical incidents and then whistle blower] says is the first thing to know about himself, that he would never intentionally commit suicide.” [He repeated that, emphasizing, for the sake of my assignment, that he would never intentionally commit suicide. Mind you, Bill Binney had not been mentioned that entire evening. That’s the first time I had ever heard of him. I’m guessing that all this murder as “suicide” thing refers instead to Pope Francis, since, as I say, in the midst of all this, this guy keeps repeating that he thinks I’m right about Pope Francis. I’m connecting the dots here, and I know I’m only guessing, but it seems that there was enough metadata to predict an op over against Pope Francis, one that would involve murder made to look as suicide. How devastating would that be for the Church and the world? The darkness and despair would be hard to imagine.]

chess board robert van der steeg impossible world

To be even more fulsome, I should also include here that other chess pieces also came up in the evening’s conversation, including the demise of Miriam Waldu, the “Front of House” for Pope Francis who was murdered a couple years ago in the midst of the gay-marriage referendum of Italy. She was a shot over the bow. Extortion. Strange that her case was jacked up to a full blown murder investigation almost immediately and then absolutely nothing has been said of her since then. Nothing. As I’ve said previously, I think she was the one the FBI had been bragging to me about, a girl from ultra dirt poor Eritrea snatched up by our intel when it was happenstance noticed that she was the best in the world for instantaneous face recognition, able to recite the relevant biography for any of many thousands of pictures shown to her quickly only once, perfect, then, for “Front of House” for the leader of 1.3 billion people.

Another similar person in the employ of the Holy See came up as well. That guy seemed to have plenty of malice about him, and so I unmasked him. Sorry. I’m the King’s good servant but God’s first. You know the drill. That part of the discussion during the meal was all about his “demise” by way of what I still hold to have been a surely reversible cardiac incident. He was an Italian CIA asset working in the CDF. His identity and intelligence connection was confirmed for me not only by his American trainer – a close CIA friend – but by the head of intel / security at the Vatican).

I can’t imagine what kind of extortion Pope Francis is under, but that’s a story for later.

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John Stalin Brennan Russian Bear discontinued for bottom feeding

2656~26308639594091155207..jpg

This now double-ear-tagged bear was spotted at a parishioners house the other day. He was brought here from Tennessee. Everyone everywhere dumps their troublesome creatures on us. He’ll be live-trapped again and removed in some other way. He’s learned to do up some swamp bottom feeding. In this case he dragged the garbage precipitously downward until it got caught up between a couple of trees. Then he ran away.

Meanwhile, John Brennan, young Stalinist, had voted for everything to do with Иосиф Сталин, you know, იოსებ სტალინი, you know, everything, connected with Joseph Stalin, General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union you know, the guy responsible for the genocide of an entire continent through firing squad, torture, prison, “labor camps”, and vast regions of total starvation, stealing everyone’s food:

stalin bear

It surprises me that people today gleefully take an adventure on the Trans-Siberian railway not realizing that it was used for eastward movement of Moscow’s war machine, and westward movement to remove all grain and foodstuffs from the entire region of the globe. Everyone dead everywhere. That’s what John Brennan, Director of the CIA, voted for. He’s continued in his anti-American subversion in his bottom feeding. So…

I’m so happy that his clearance has been cleared out. Finally. To remove his security clearance is to be patriotic. Now maybe we can do something for America, taking America back from those who promoted AmeriKa.

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Spying on White House Situation Room

Omarosa recorded conversations in the White House Situation Room. The only way for that to happen is that it was allowed to happen by security. The only way for that to be allowed by security is for it to be planned by security. Otherwise, it cannot happen. Right? What does that say? They speak of tightening up some policies about cell phones. Really. That sounds maliciously sloppy. No one but no one in the intelligence community allows cell phones anywhere near anything or anyone high value. Just. Wow.

Moreover, if it was done once to record an alleged happenstance comment, is it not done on a continuous basis as a fishing expedition, perhaps with baiting? What does that say?

If it is thought that the content of the an alleged happenstance comment is more important than the security of the most secured room in the world, um…, what does that say?

This has nothing to do with Omawhoever. It has everything to do with bad actors in security. Right? That goes to those who set security policies. At the least, the lack of oversight needs some oversight. Who’s overseeing the overseers? That needs investigation. I just don’t see how the sloppiness is not entirely malicious.

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DOD-DARPA gaming gray-zones to be more black and white with red blood

DARPA DOD Situational Awareness

Multiple terrorist events are to be noticed in the city depicted above. Did you notice the yin-yang graphic providing foundation for situational awareness? That’s all about repeated baiting.

After taking care of some things in northeast Atlanta on my day off a few days ago, I hiked it over to nearby FBI Atlanta where, at the security building, a printout on yours truly was placed in front of me. I had wanted to discuss some options for a perpetual / interdepartmental program Main State placed me on (and in which I was further entrenched by the FBI four years later) in the early and mid-1990s. But the printout placed in front of me indicated another and more recent program altogether. I guess the agent was wondering which program it was that I wanted to talk about. That took me off guard as I didn’t know until now that I was on more than one program.

The guy was terribly exaggerated in looking at the printout, looking at me, looking at the printout, looking at me, looking at the printout, looking at me, and then putting it down on the otherwise entirely empty counter and shoving it toward me while he asked me a few questions. If he wanted me to see at least the title on the top of the page through the dark window of that security building, that was a mistake, or on purpose, either to show me how stupid it was for me to show up at the FBI when the program is spearheaded by another agency altogether, or because he was told to do that (and that indicates something else altogether, something for another post).

The summary report shoved in front of me was about another and quite recent program having provenance with “DOD/DARPA, the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency. DARPA is largely constituted by civilian scientists and mathematicians, by physics and chemistry nerds, by manipulators of everything internet (which they helped to invent btw). DARPA is spread out in multiple research centers, playgrounds, if you will, in which imagination rules the day. Budget is simply not a concern. That would be one of the coolest places in the world to work under those conditions, wouldn’t you agree? For many years of my life I was in those circumstances. It was exhilarating. But, here’s the deal: there’s always someone who thinks they’ve found salvation by way of self-congratulation for the little project they’ve been able to get approved just because, for instance, he or she is an ultra-super-genius mathematician. And then things get dangerous.

The next day I spoke with a top DOD guy who is quite familiar with DARPA, as he would acquire the results of some of their projects for integration into some of his own major military projects he was working up with our military manufacturers. He knows a bit of my history and was much perplexed as to why DARPA could possibly be interested in yours truly. That was my reaction exactly. Until I saw this while scrolling through DARPA’s news items, now on page two as of this writing, as this was announced back in March of this year (2018). Perusing that little announcement, lots of pieces fell into place regarding incidents in relatively recent times, particularly after that date. Let’s take a quick look at that short publicly consumable document on that particular project. Be sure that anything publicly consumable doesn’t tell the whole story. But, we have what we have. It’s all baiting. As far as my own involvement in all this, I guess I would be a guinea pig upon whom to test some baiting. I don’t like it. Being a beta-target has its risks and misunderstandings. Whatever about me, it also puts those around me at risk. I’m not a willing participant. I note that the guy who stole my identity decades ago has been telling me for the past number of months that I’m on another program besides the one occasioned by him. I thought he was off his rocker. But he was spot on, describing what is happening in detail. So, here we are. So, it’s also a chance to make an evaluation from a disadvantaged, merely baited position. Here’s the short document with my emphases and [comments]:

===========================

Making Gray-Zone Activity more Black and White

New program aims to lift the fog obscuring an adversary’s intentions in slow, simmering non-traditional conflicts – outreach@darpa.mil 3/14/2018

An emergent type of conflict in recent years has been coined “gray zone,” because it sits in a nebulous area between peace and conventional warfare. Gray-zone action is not openly declared or defined, it’s slower, and is prosecuted more subtly—using social, psychological, religious, information, cyber and other means to achieve physical or cognitive objectives with or without violence [thus not exclusive of violence to achieve also destruction of religious sites or people(s), not exclusive of violence to achieve also the brainwashing of religious people or changes in religious practice and doctrine. While all that refers to malevolent actors, the response is to be on the same level:]. The lack of clarity of intent—the grayness—makes it challenging to detect, characterize, and counter an enemy fighting this way.

To better understand and respond to an adversary’s gray-zone engagement [meaning we are engaged and respond to that engagement in that same gray-zone with or without violence; see “theater-level operations” below], DARPA’s Strategic Technology Office today announced a new program called COMPASS, which stands for Collection and Monitoring [including humint guys=baiters to better define targets whose particularities on any given day after he’s been studied are available through metadata evaluations and actionable parameters the field] via Planning for Active Situational Scenarios [which is where in-the-field-violence can enter the equation]. The program aims to develop software that would help clarify enemy intent by gauging an adversary’s responses to various stimuli. [=baiting typical of counterintelligence reduced to spreadsheet style metadata.] COMPASS will leverage advanced artificial intelligence technologies, game theory, and modeling and estimation [all of which is utterly dependent on arbitrarily established standards of philosophy, theology, economic anthropologies, etc. This is the elephant in the room. It throws out the Constitution and replaces it with theories used by adversaries. Law is thrown out. Natural law is thrown out. It’s all just the yin-yang action and reaction, indeed being controlled by the adversary in this way as it is he who leads, who invites being baited, you know, in particular ways] to both identify stimuli [through contrived, arbitrary, thought to be leading baiting incidents] that yield the most information about an adversary’s intentions [“the ol’ mafia-esque extortion: “We know where your family lives” (it always comes down to that, as I’m told, very quickly)], and provide decision makers high-fidelity intelligence on how to respond [unless the one so baited is himself baiting his baiters since the beginning, taking any number of sides and tactics to see who’s who with what intentions] – with positive and negative tradeoffs for each course of action [people being taken out is always the “positive” result as it gives “decision makers” stuff to do, an encouragement for which can always be obtained in this fashion, the negative tradeoff simply being the bother one has to go through in explaining the reason why an action had to be taken must remain classified information].

“The ultimate goal of the program is to provide theater-level operations and planning staffs with robust analytics and decision-support tools that reduce ambiguity of adversarial actors and their objectives,” [adversarial for who, the Southern Poverty Law Center, who hold citizens in good standing to be suspected terrorists and have been joined in that opinion by the FBI for very many years now?] said Fotis Barlos, DARPA program manager. [Thus, the guy sitting behind his computer screen with a joy-stick, who is from there flying an otherwise unmanned drone and is dropping bombs on a village on the other side of the world will feel nice about himself because his target’s teenagers all play with the target’s computer all on the target’s profile and are just baiting their friends who are having fun baiting them and no one is a terrorist. Have we really given up on humint?] “As we see increasingly more sophistication in gray-zone activity around the world, we need to leverage advanced AI and other technologies to help commanders make more effective decisions to thwart an enemy’s complex, multi-layered disruptive activity.” [The response to that which is “using social, psychological, religious, information, cyber and other means to achieve physical or cognitive objectives with or without violence” is a response which is also “using social, psychological, religious, information, cyber and other means to achieve physical or cognitive objectives with or without violence”. This makes everything descend into chaos. Everyone gets better at being gray. And, by the way, baiting is also entrapment. Thus, if you put enough pressure on someone, they will react. Thus, the Mafia will break your mother’s arm for not paying her usual installment for protection, and you, the son, will express your disgruntlement publicly, the response to which is a bullet between the eyes for you, which offers a “good example” to anyone else thinking about not paying their installment for protection. And you get more people paying protection. This is called empire building. In the past number of months I’ve been baited in all sorts of ways regarding terrorist activities, and with plenty of “insurance policies” for extortion, even though I have a history throughout my life of stopping any number of terrorist incidents. This is a distraction, I think, from something going on with the duty roster at Main State. I’ve been trying to report that. This is way to stop that reporting. Anyway…]

Current military decision-making follows a well-understood and effective OODA loop—Observe, Orient, Decide and Act. [Yes. That’s rather pedantic.] This is how planning is done in various geographic areas around the world, which works for traditional kinetic scenarios, Barlos said. This process, however, is not effective in gray zone warfare. Signals in the environment are typically not rich enough to draw any conclusions, and, just as often, adversaries could implant these signals to induce ambiguity. [Tradecraft is, however recognizable if you don’t blind yourself with self-congratulatory game theory. The entire methodology must remain open to new conditions. That’s how we caught UBL. Phone calls were made on behalf of UBL, but always from a different pay phone. But no one does that. That was tradecraft so persnickety that it revealed the malicious actor. But no program would have seen that as the “programmer” back in the day configured analysis according to pre-9-11 thinking that UBL and his supporters were all in a cave. The one person only who thought outside of the program is the one who caught him. So, what does that say about this?] COMPASS aims to add a dynamic, adaptive element [not really, as the active baiting that is feeding algorithms is using increasingly ossified algorithms, right? Right?] to the OODA loop for complex, gray-zone environments. [This is someone overexcited for finding what they think the Holy Grail for them happens to be. I see this all the time in academics.]

The COMPASS program will leverage game theory for developing simulations to test and understand various potential actions and possible reactions by an adversary employing gray-zone activity. [For those not in the know, “game theory” forces life itself into an ideology of action and reaction, whose metadata can feed into imagined equations: “Everything is math” is the exclamation of promoters, “everything.” Game theory has been used by economists and some rather cynical investors for many decades. Some think, seriously, that game theory is what runs the world, absolutely, no question, everything, all based on greed, a reverse of Karl Marx but not different from him in the end. And this is where it all falls apart. Human beings, terrorists or not, have currents running deeper than all the yin-yang gaming theory. To deny this is to miss out on the experience and POV of literally trillions of people throughout the millennia] Barlos quickly noted, however, that the program is not about developing new sensory technologies, virtual reality systems or other advanced hardware. The program focuses rather on advanced software that would quickly present options to decision makers by assimilating a large amount of intelligence collected using existing, state of the art systems (such as standard video exploitation, or textual analysis tools [and humint]) related to rapidly changing scenarios.

“We’re looking at the problem from two perspectives: Trying to determine what the adversary is trying to do, his intent; and once we understand that or have a better understanding of it, then identify how he’s going to carry out his plans—what the timing will be, and what actors will be used,” Barlos said. “The first is the what, and second is the where, when, and how. [Bill Binney at the NSA diversely came up with predictions like this twenty years ago.]

“But in order to decide which of those actions is important you need to analyze the data, and you need to understand what different implications are and build a model of what you think the adversary will do,” he said. “That’s where game theory comes in. If I do this [baiting], what will the adversary do? If I do that [baiting], what might he do? So it is using artificial intelligence in a repeated game theory process to try to decide what the most effective action is based on what the adversary cares about.” [“cares about” isn’t just ideology, but also the “insurance” extortion scenarios, always. Also, again, what if the baiter is baiting you to bait in particular ways, while meanwhile he is doing something different entirely? Sitting behind a screen is one of the best ways to ensure terrorism. People aren’t so stupid as all that.]

The COMPASS program seeks experts in AI, machine learning, game theory, modeling and simulation, control systems, estimation and other related fields [I hope “other” means humint]. A Proposers Day is scheduled for March 30, 2018, in Arlington, Virginia. Registration instructions and more details are available on […]

==========================

My further commentary: The problem with all this is that the emphasis is entirely on the adversary, with nothing on the arbitrary input of the programmer. It canonizes any result recommending whatever it is that sells to “decision makers” because it is all backed up with… oooo!… mathematics. What does the programmer think philosophically, religiously, economically, socially…? Any action of violence, brainwashing, whatever, is going to be based on a few programmers in DARPA. Really? Wow. Also, the humint side of things doesn’t work if the target can figure out what you’re doing before you even start. Anyway, more on “deep currents” and how to deal with them in another post.

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“Fr George, you can make a car bomb, a suicide vest, take out a building…”

suicide bomber land day 2001

And so it continues. People with ineffable military experience, with CVs including any number of alphabet agencies and institutes, offices and bureaus and divisions, come up to me to somehow bait me on whatever stupidity, such as, now most recently, bomb making. With their help I too, like them, can get as much C-4 as I want [technical advice on how to use it in what amounts], or otherwise spend a few dollars (literally just a few dollars) to prep up the necessary for a suicide vest [in such and such a way: technical advice] or otherwise hand-carried WMDs [technical, chemical advice], that would involve me, or be employed more remotely for, say, a car bomb because you know – Hey! – car bombs! Maybe I could go to [named building] it was suggested, and take it out by [technical, architectural advice here].

The old second person grammatical mistake – “You could…” replacing the impersonal third person – “One could…” – was no mistake in all this. After all, I am told, I have the perfect cover: a “priest”. I never said a word in all this. No questions. No notes. It was presented to me without me asking, presumably with incorrect and insufficient details. People like this can be honest, have integrity, and are baiting, not really knowing the full story, knowing that the full story cannot be known. Fine. Or they can do all this to get themselves more useful idiots. Here’s the deal: one cannot but make some small mistake. Meanwhile, bad stuff happens.

death gaza boy 2

I have to wonder how many people have been manipulated into doing whatever. In the most recent encounter I was told that the assignment he had in France was to bait people, manipulate people, have people do things without them knowing that they were doing his will, the will of those who assigned him to France to have such things accomplished, things that they would never have done on their own but were baited into doing. I have to wonder how many people have to die.

terrorist suicide bomberSee this kid in the picture of this paragraph? I stopped him for like ten years, but then he went ahead and did it – the suicide bombing thing – manipulated by others, including his own father, 21 dead (plus himself), and well over a hundred wounded (horrific life changing maiming etc), mostly Russian Jewish girls who had just arrived in Israel and had nothing to do with any violence with Palestinians. When will the manipulation stop?

Anyway, this most recent bomb guy, manipulator guy, did in fact make a mistake, two in fact. Purposed? Baiting? Dunno. This kind of thing goes on all the time. It’s all a “he said” “she said” kind of scenario. In fact, he told me that, and this isn’t the first time he said this: I could go ahead and say whatever and the simple question will be asked: Do you have proof? In a world of multiple levels of physical deniability? “Proof.” So, people continue to die. Violence is the way things are and will continue to be.

Jesus knows all about it. He used it for His own victory of laying down His own life for ours, the innocent for the guilty. That’s the one thing important. That’s the one thing these guys don’t include in their calculation. Really smart guys. They think they’ve got you with all their “insurance policy” extortion. But they’re perfectly lacking in wisdom. They only hurt themselves. Jesus continues to win. Love cuts through the deception of power for the sake of power. Why is that? Because in God, love is truth is power is goodness is kindness.

death gaza boy 1

If you think I’m letting violence just pass me by like I don’t care. Think again. Certain steps can be taken. This post is one of them. But there are more steps. I don’t think that I’ll be able to stop much of any violence. But – Hey! – like the Master, so the disciple. Jesus didn’t ask us to be successful in all ways, just in being faithful to His love and truth and goodness and kindness, that which these guys don’t fear, that which will overpower these guys when Jesus comes to judge the living and the dead and the world by fire. Amen.

I’ll be writing, please God, about his mistakes in posts to come. Stay tuned.

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Last time I read a Tom Clancy novel…

img_20180721_171022317~22432868953834884217..jpg

“Uneven pacing…” Sounds like my life… Thank you for this. My last and only other was Sum of All Fears. It reminds me I have to write up the memorial for the Joyce Kilmer centenary memorial service on July 30 up in the Forest named after him. He was in the famed Rainbow Division. More on that later. I’m actually excited about reading Rainbow Six. The last time I read a Tom Clancy novel I wrote my own (which I only half put up). This may get me reinvigorated. With all the other stuff going on, I may be able to add some further intrigue, and a sequel, as if there wasn’t enough intrigue and me already not having an unpublished thought. ;-)

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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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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…

img_20180708_171148834_hdr~28401119232695407354..jpg

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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Wray Rosenstein Strzoked out as puppeteers of IGs, FISA Court judges

“I, the Inspectors General and FISA Court Judges, Wray Rosenstein Strzok, hereby declare that members of any Congressional Oversight for the judiciary, for counterterrorism, for counterintelligence, for anything, although enjoying the highest levels of clearance, cannot ever run a true oversight operation in any setting as they are not allowed ever to know how we are conducting any of our activities, you know, while these are ongoing, and it is only I who can say what is active.”

Or am I wrong?

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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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“The Guy” lets me in on my life

joint

“The Guy” and his lovely wife joined the usual crowd for the evening meal on my “Day-Off”. Three and a half hours of great conversation and a really good home cooked meal.

“The Guy” is the the guy who, eventually, had only one boss, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. He, um, kind of knows how stuff works. There was a lot of ground covered. Stunning. A lot to take in. We may have some common friends. In that mix, somewhere, is my “Shadow.” I now know who he works for. It’s funny how life works out. I’ve contacted my “Shadow” about this. He’s cool with it.

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Liquid Metal Fast Breeder Reactor – Conversing of LMFBR in my tiny parish

We had a Knights of Columbus Fish Fry April 20, 2018 at Holy Redeemer parish in Andrews, N.C., so as to raise money for the local Special Olympics. I would have to be there, of course, just then, in the parking lot to go up to the parish hall. As I got out of my car, a jogger, say, in his sixties, jogged up to me, stopped, and we had this conversation:

  • Jogger: It’s good to see you.
  • Me: Good to see you too. [But I’m wondering who he is. Bad memory, I guess.]
  • Jogger: I wanted to come by and bother you but… ’cause we got conversations to have but…
  • Me: O.K. [I say “O.K.”, but the plural “conversations” is a most extraordinary usage, and bothers me. I’ve never heard it before in my life. It’s always singular. Except when there are disparate topics that have been piling up, like tasks to accomplish. My bad and evil suspicions will be justified. These conversations will not be about the faith. As we’ll see below, he thinks my present life, perhaps ‘cover’, as a priest who also writes this blog, is a total waste of time, in which he has zero interest.]
  • Jogger: Haven’t gotten around to it.
  • Me: We’ll get there.
  • Jogger: Yeah.
  • Me: O.K. [So, I’m waiting for a hint. And here it is:]
  • Jogger: Did you do any research on liquid metal fast breeder reactors?
  • Me: No!!!!!!! That’s what I need to do!!!!!!! [Sorry, but I’m really bad and evil. I was using the loud voice of a sarcastic Matt Damon with an unrelenting Robin Williams from the few clips I’ve seen of Good Will Hunting on YouTube. My unnamed interlocutor continues with an incisive sarcasm all his own, as if my life as a janitor – err… I mean… priest… – isn’t good enough, especially the bit about the total waste of time, he thinks, of my writing this blog. I should stop hiding away in this tiniest of all parishes. But, mind you, I absolutely love this parish in these mountains. Love it. He says:]
  • Jogger: Well, I know, I mean, I know you got nothin’ else to do but write. Hahahahaha.
  • Me: That would be a good one down the way. Yes, that’s for sure.
  • Jogger: Now, you’re, George, right? Byers?
  • Me: Yes. [Because he can’t believe my denial.]
  • Jogger: Good! [[Then, as he started to jog away, he said:]] Bye! We’ll be up in a little bit.

He could see that I was a priest with all the black and the Roman collar, and that I was physically at that moment at that parish, obviously, but he still wasn’t sure of my identity (I could be a guest priest after all), so he asked if his prior knowledge of my name was correct, you know, after my denial about working on LMFBRs.

So, some interrogations – err… – conversations are in store for me. “Researching”, mind you, on LMFBRs doesn’t refer to summaries of the history or findings of others throughout the decades, (what a waste of time that would be) but rather on the LMFBRs themselves, which is the only way to do anything, the only reason why anyone’s knowledge would have any value whatsoever. Maybe he’s offering me a job. Could be about doing active research, could be about doing something about some LMFBRs in some other way. But maybe asking about someone’s wherewithal with LMFBRs in whatever way just to do it is a normal thing at the ol’ fish-fry, right? I mean that’s a normal conversation to have, right? Maybe it’s a task to accomplish as a favor, and then, maybe, Main State will listen to a request of mine. We’ll see.

Bwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah!

But I still expect this guy to come back with his friends and have a wee chat with me. Blog posts like this are merely one of those nothing is as it seems things, right?

 

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Setraco Group “hit list”, Main State, my “Shadow”, terrorism, and me.

beirut setraco group

never look in my spam box, ever. But I did now so as to retrieve a registration link from a D.O.C. communications group so as to set up an account enabling me to connect all the more easily with Father Gordon MacRae, right from his cell. Very cool, that.

But there were just a few other spams in the box, and one caught my eye, as it involved the name of my “Shadow”. I did NOT open the message, but a preview pop-up revealed a hit list targeting Setraco Group out of Beirut, a construction company in 30 countries with 20,000 employees. There were hints as to the sender. There was a picture of the target. Setraco’s world offices are in an ultra-ritzy suburb, of course. They’ve suffered quite a number of very specific, directed, assassinations from ISIS elsewhere.

As I write this, my “Shadow” is going ballistic, as I simply mentioned the word Setraco to him. Nothing else. He instantly – instantly – launched into a diatribe about Syria (his favorite stomping grounds) and Putin and WMD and the Mossad and terrorism and on and on. How did he know that would actually be precisely on point, not having heard of Setraco and not having even a second to look them up before responding? Meanwhile, as I write this and text him, I get a call from Mexico (his other favorite stomping grounds) giving me a name. This is boring. I need something more exciting. I need to pay some car insurance.

The parting shot of my “Shadow” is that I am a terrorist. He’s really fuming. I said nothing in all this. I just mentioned the name Setraco and all hell broke loose. But, as I always say, nothing is as it seems.

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Disillusioned guy to me: Do it!

john edger hoover fbi

Disillusioned with corruption. Gonna do something about it.

An old school, super excellent, honorable guy, a John Edger Hoover redivivus (in the good aspects anyway), disillusioned as he is with the shenanigans that have been going on from mid-level on up for quite some time at the bureau, gave me my marching orders. What a patriot he is. He waxed poetic, reminiscing about the old days. We have a common understanding about doing what is right for the common good, no matter the cost. Do it! So, he mentioned how to go about this, given the extraordinary difficulties and those who don’t want this to happen at any cost. His “how to” surprised me greatly. I had been warned to go ahead and do anything but that, anything else, including going to my friend in the Institute for Intelligence and Special Operations. But, no, I couldn’t do that. I would end up in the middle of some mountain in Colorado if I did that. But this guy insisted that his way, so surprising to me, was the only way.

  • I asked, “You mean I should talk to that guy?” I protested: “I don’t know him personally, as a friend.”
  • “Pffft!” he said. “No, NOT him. No. Go and see […].” He repeated this twice, really strongly: “NOT him. You are to go and see […].”

My reaction to that, only thought but not said – and I confess this – was “Oh s#!+”. Sorry, but I am a sinner. At any rate, O.K. I’ll see what I can do. This may take some time to arrange.

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