The last line of defense of the Vice President and those voting – an entire branch of government – included the agent who did the head-shot, who could not have been told to stand down, not by the President, not by anyone. He was like the guy with his finger on the nuclear button. No one is going to interfere with those guys. Can’t happen. He just did his job. It was absolutely known he would in fact do his job. And what gave him a target was staged, I’m guessing by the Dems, who are rushing for the 25th or an impeachment before it becomes known what they have done. What a cynical use of law enforcement protecting them. Law enforcement and non-violent Trump tourists were used like pawns. Too bad, that. We all know of what can only be called a purposed lack of personnel on 6 January 2021.
Trump was speaking in the morning and the assault on the Capital Building had already begun. He was going to present his case at 1:00 PM, but mayhem had already started. He never got the chance to march peacefully to the Capital Building so as to simply make a show of concern about the election. He never got the chance. Blame him? No.
I’d like to see the NSA, FBI and DARPA COMPASS barf up what they knew of logistics for 6 January 2021. Yes, I would. They knew pretty much everything, even visiting the perps before the day, telling them not to go, you know, being polite and nice. SMH.
According to Scamalytics (I don’t know if that’s legit or self-congratulatory), there, is, of a sudden, the most vaunted fraudsters and hackers around the world visiting ariseletusbegoing. Why? These guys have been subject to the courts and investigations by all sorts of agencies.
They are the best at extracting hard drives, flash drives, at following everything done on a computer, a phone, whatever device.
Most appear next to The Hague or over in Hesse. Whatever.
What are they interested in me. Maybe because I’m such a nobody. Maybe because they think they can find secret messages in “Flowers for the Immaculate Conception” – and indeed the Sacred Mysteries are often the subject of those posts and many others.
I knew it was dead serious trouble when the façade-of-niceness lady came to this particular church in the backsides of back ridges of Appalachia on behalf of the Atlanta, GA Census Bureau Regional Field Office, that is, on behalf of the Census Bureau quarters in Suitland, MD, that is, under powers of the Secretary for the US Census Bureau in Washington, DC.
Her first trusted Census Community partner in the region was yours truly. She wanted desperately to get her hands on info regarding our Latino community, it being that most of them are Catholic and, you know, I’m their priest.
The obvious question back to her without answering her Latino community questions was this: So, how much do you know about Gaming Theory? She was instantaneously livid with anger, controlled, but shaking, explaining, while gritting her teeth, that she had taken doctoral degrees in this area of statistical hell and from the Jesuits no less. Taking the opportunity of her off-kilter emotions, having caught her off guard, another question was put to her face about whether or not she had worked for the US ARMY’s DARPA *COMPASS* program, (a side note on war-games involving also individual citizens HERE). What with all the stats and spreadsheets in her business of the Census, the COMPASS program would have been a great C.V. line-item to fly up the ladder. Yes, she admitted: plenty of work for DARPA COMPASS.
:-) I’m so bad and evil.
Here’s a summary of COMPASS:
An emergent type of geopolitical warfare in recent years has been coined “gray zone competition,” or simply “competition,” because it sits in a nebulous area between peace and conventional conflict. It’s 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. The lack of clarity of intent in competition activity makes it challenging to detect, characterize, and counter an enemy fighting this way.
“The Collection and Monitoring via Planning for Active Situational Scenarios (COMPASS) program aims to better understand and respond to an adversary’s competition. COMPASS seeks to leverage advanced AI and other technologies to help commanders make more effective decisions to thwart an enemy’s complex, multi-layered competition activity. 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.”
Targets, including individual citizens of these USA, are subjected to baiting and gaslighting, even using violence, so as to fill out the AI algorithms needed for a more accurate usage of COMPASS, with sources being social, psychological, religious, information, cyber. The point is to allow field officers to effect an extra-judicial killing on you, you know, with a clean conscience, because AI told them to do it. That’s easy. It’s the new version of the devil made me do it.
As I proceeded to grill the nice Census Bureau lady about abusing the census for gerrymandering and perverting elections, she retreated into ambiguous obfuscation: there are talking points we were given on that. And that’s all she said about it. Pfft. You know, just my opinion, but the mid-level guys ought to send out better trained people than her. To wit: the very day Trump signed an executive order forbidding the Census Bureau from using data for gerrymandering, she resigned, as she told me in an email. I wrote about that, and, instantaneously, I got a blog visit from the U.S. Census Bureau in Suitland to an obscure, long-archived humorous post on this blog about “little white lies” starring Lillian Carter and Jesus. The first time she had visited my blog through the Suitland servers she bragged within hours that she had visited my blog, laughing with glee. As it is, that unnuanced statement of resignation may mean that she is now moving up the ladder, as expected.
Her pet project, DARPA *COMPASS* has me on the list as a targeted individual, as I was informed by the new FBI compound just North-East of Atlanta, but not for nefarious purposes, just informational, I hope[!], inasmuch as Diplomatic Security just up from the Rosslyn, VA metro stop established a kind of Doppelgänger of mine with secured identity for work with CCS (Counterintelligence for Consular Services) at Main State (the main campus of the Department of State at Foggy Bottom), blah blah blah. I’ve written on all this before, too many times. I can’t get out of it. It’s a “perpetual” program, even “interdepartmental”. I’m really fed up with it. My protestations are detrimental to whatever it is that the Doppelgänger is up to, and that’s dangerous for me. He started out with arms transfers to the Sinaloa Cartel, that is, in its very beginnings, waaaay back in the day.
“The Bureau of Diplomatic Security, more commonly known as Diplomatic Security, or DS, is the security and law enforcement arm of the United States Department of State. DS is a world leader in international investigations, threat analysis, cyber security, counterterrorism, security technology, and protection of people, property, and information.”
Anyway, I had asked her if she would help me get out the “program”, seeing that she’s interested in actual numbers of people, what with the census, and there happening to be two of me, born of the same parents, at the same second, in the same hospital, with the same name, same social security number, same everything. On behalf of CCS at Main State, Diplomatic Security brags about this to me, and brags repeatedly: they are so very good at establishing alternative secured identities to people who then become that provided identity, and they NEVER make a mistake, not ever. The upper echelon census lady said with a rather severe voice that there was zero chance of her helping me with this, adding: “I will not help you.” Ironic, methinks.
Indeed, the stakes have been jacked up. I’m now faced with a damned if I do and damned if I don’t situation:
If I answer the unrepeatable particular life-history details of the American Community Survey (another program you absolutely cannot get out of, and penalties are established by the U.S. Congress) I will be told that I’m a liar, because the Doppelgänger surely has different answers. If I’m hit with lying, it’s up to a US$5,000.00 fine and/or up to five years in prison, or both.
If I just ignore the survey for a couple of months, harassment by the Census Bureau is guaranteed: constant phone calls, banging on the door, clogging my mail box, harassment which is all legal for them. If I continue to ignore them, it’s up to a US$5,000.00 fine and/or five years in prison, or both. And this will be repeated as time goes on.
Of course, people say that it’s extremely rare that such contempt for a congressionally mandated harassment about unrepeatable personal life history that has nothing to do with the local population is ever prosecuted, that they just want to scare you into compliance. That’s true, because they save a ton of money avoiding litigation. But sometimes they do prosecute, you know, if they are malicious. On that note…
I have to say that I did respond to the much more mundane questions of the actual census of the population, with alacrity, on time, and politely, even though I was told by the nice lady that even those basic answers would be falsified on purpose so that the rest of the answers couldn’t be referred back to me. Of course, they get to choose, for the sake of gerrymandering, which answers they want to manipulate, like about, say, race. But my good faith effort was very sarcastically, mockingly called into question by the Atlanta Census Bureau field office. How’s that?
I started getting many harassment phone calls from three guys, and, when I could, I finally picked up the phone over bluetooth in Sassy the Subaru. The Census Bureau guy asked with a sing-song “gotcha question” voice filled with sarcasm and triumphant mockery: “This is a Catholic ♬ rectory ♬ isn’t it?” “Yes,” I said. “Well, then,” he continued in his sarcastic voice, “it being that this is a ♬ Catholic rectory ♬ there must be all sorts of women and children who live there, right? I mean, after all, it’s a ♬ Catholic rectory ♬. There has to lots of women and children that you’re keeping there, right?”
“Keeping there…” That’s like pronouncing that it’s an established fact that all Catholic priests, because they are Catholic priests, are imprisoning women and children in dungeons or doing up human trafficking or pimping them out or are trying to counter, say, immigration laws. Um… No.
It’s against the law for the Census Bureau to outright mock religion and with such baiting, mocking sarcasm. I should have these nice people thrown into prison for a much longer time than just five years. This is a religious hate crime wrought purposely by the Federal Government, deep as it might be at the moment. I told the guy that if any insists on that kind of stupidity I WILL SUE THEM INTO THE GROUND. So, I guess that ends this conversation, he said, and hung up. Nice guy. Coward too. The deeper you go…
Oh, my bad. I forgot. They don’t give a damn about my Catholic priesthood. At one point – early 1996 – this time at the FBI Rome, Italy field office), they established me (without my asking) with an alternative identity. I rejected it, having seen what they did after having already entered back into Italy. They were really upset, for years, with yours truly. They tried over years to convince me, a citizen in good standing, with argumentation, then humiliation, to disappear without a trace with that alternative identity (and they would have made sure of the without a trace part), so as to make it easier for my Doppelgänger at this point in time, decades later, to continue his, um, work, under my identity. Father George David Byers would cease to exist. I would immediately have turned into no-history-man, which is something that gets you into unending trouble and then dead in no time. For these guys and gals, U.S. citizens in good standing don’t count. Just the Feds. The mantra of the Census Bureau is that each person counts. But not this citizen in good standing. I don’t count. Ironic, right, for the Census Bureau? But we knew that already.
The niceness lady of Suitland (in)fame reads this blog closely, so, she’ll get the message: I won’t comply. Send your thugs and buffoons. I won’t comply. Steal my money and throw me in prison. Fine! I’ll comply with you stealing my money and you throwing me into prison. But I won’t comply with your detailed personal history questionnaire. How can I? Do you know if I’m me, that I’m not my Doppelgänger? Really? How’s that? You’ll get yourself into trouble with a certain Secretary and a certain Director if you say you do. When “perpetual programs” that are “interdepartmental” come into play, we’re talking un-maskable, unless, like, you’re not only best friends with the Secretary and the Director, but you have directives coming from above the Secretary and above the Director. ;-)
But hey! I know! I’ve had a couple of requests about “the program” for years now. No one knows what they are. Just some little tweaks. Diplomatic Security asked what these were somewhat recently, but my response had to be that I can’t make those known over an unsecured telephone connection (on my end). So, hey! I’ll answer all the questions you got, but this time it’s gotta be quid-pro-quo. I have some simple requests. After all, you guys stole my identity. Now you owe me.
The picture above, taken at a parishioner’s house, is of Alex Trebek decades ago. Yes, there are re-runs of game shows from a lifetime ago. I just thought this particular scene was humorous and so took a picture of it. Sorry for using poor “Shadow” the other day as bait so as to watch the the knuckleheads show themselves. And they did. It is to laugh, out loud too.
Sorry if this is all a bit Kryptic. Some are bewildered at such Kryptesque posts that mention my “Shadow,” the guy who has been “established with secured identity” by those in DS-Rosslyn, with my own identity. The analogy for the continuing bewilderment that comes to mind is the befuddlement over seemingly entirely outrageous statements of POTUS Trump that he makes correctly but without revealing important circumstances. Like clockwork, over the space of a week or two, this exercise in baiting has the knuckleheads go full apoplectic and show themselves for who they are, and then after they make fools of themselves, good old Trump reveals the rest of the story as Paul Harvey would say. Checkmate. They know they’ve been had. In my own little world the rest of the story may or may not be revealed in this lifetime. I’m working on it, and I’m having fun while doing it, laughing all the way, even if the subject matter involves otherwise stunningly illegal arms transfers and rather shadowy characters and endless violence and loss of life. My “Shadow” might well be revealed even while exaggeratedly attempting to remain hidden, an unexpected plot twist. I digress.
This kind of entertainment – and it is just that, for me, entertainment – takes up about 0.00001% of my free time. I write about it because it’s all so stupid. It just is what it is. And I cannot, cannot, cannot write about what happens the other 99.99999% of my free time, not to mention what happens in my full-on priestly activities in confession, in spiritual direction, all that for which I actually live. Don’t get the wrong idea.
You have to know, I absolutely love being a priest, all of the priestly everything about visiting the sick, providing Last Rites, doing up funerals, and preaching!
Oh my! I love preaching. I learn about the Sacred Scriptures pretty much only while I’m preaching, that is, not so much any preparation, if any, but in the actual preaching. I’ve often spoken of this with my confessor. He has the same experience in being brought into a crushing-uplifting reverence before the Living Truth of Jesus by the Holy Spirit while preaching. I guess that’s how the Lord tells us that we’ve said enough and need to move things along, because… after that… we can get choked up, and simply not be able to say anything more. Preaching from the heart? This is more like putting one’s useless heart aside, because, look… look at that Sacred Heart of Jesus… In trying to reveal what is otherwise hidden in the Mystery of God’s love for us – plot twist – our own inadequacy otherwise hidden also to ourselves is – plot twist – revealed before the Light that comes into such darkness. Such Light! I love it, but…
This kind of thing is almost annoying. Take for instance the Consecrations at Holy Mass. I can usually get through the first, but by the second I have to battle with all my might from getting choked up in the presence of the Most Sacred Mysteries – the ultimate Kryptos – of our Lord’s ever so hidden love for us. I am a weak and useless and simple man. So, there we have it, a plot twist. Who we are, our identity, is revealed not when we claim an identity, but when we stand ever so simply before our Creator. We are revealed for who we are. Jesus strips us of our fear in which we stupidly try to hide ourselves. Fear is not an identity. Being forgiven reveals who we are before our Redeemer because He forgives by pouring into us the created presence of the Most Holy Trinity otherwise called sanctifying grace. How to say it?
“Hidden.” That’s “Kryptic.” Watch what happens the other way. The dear Lord, by way of His goodness and kindness and the Living Truth that He is, lays open our souls before His majesty. We know who we are when like the Apostle Thomas , we place our finger into the marks of the nails, and our hand into the gaping wound in His side that was made on Calvary by the sword of the Roman soldier.
Plot twist? Oh yes. And the games human beings play in this world which congratulates itself on being clever and shadowy? It is to laugh, but also to cry, for there is altogether too much game playing and violence and not enough of being drawn into the Living Sacred Mysteries of God’s Love and Truth, of Jesus, who will come to judge the living and the dead and the world by fire.
And if you feel lost in all this seeming convolutedness, like it’s all still too Kryptic, let some piercing eyes cut right into your very soul revealing how you stand before God, for her soul was pierced through that the thoughts of many hearts might be revealed (see Luke 2:35).
The Bureau for Diplomatic Security (DS) in Rosslyn, at the behest of Counterintel for Consular Services (CCS) at the Department of State (DoS) at Foggy Bottom (“Main State”), early in 2019, declared to me that they had been in charge of creating two of me, purposely establishing and issuing to someone else (who looks quite like me and is about the same age) secured identity, including a U.S. Passport, with all of my own identifying characteristics. The program may have started way back in the mid-late 1970s. I say “declaration” in that this revelation was emphasized and repeated.
Until they disabused me of my naïveté, I had always thought that someone had stolen my identity. Not at all. That guy needed an unwitting fall guy in the wings, just in case. There are many persons in need of a fall guy.
But there’s two of me, I objected.
So, what’s the problem? Can you use your identity? it was asked rhetorically.
Yes, said I with the most deadpan voice I could muster.
♬ Soooooooooooo! ♬ No problem then! ♬ said the now melodious voice.
You have to know that Diplomatic Security prosecutes a few problem fraudulent passports, those used for more than the usual criminal fraud, namely, something more along the lines of terrorists and foreign spies (sometimes diplomats) with multiple alternative identities, including as U.S. citizens. They also issue passports for certain people stationed at certain consulates and embassies, where even the janitors are CIA and FBI officers and agents unable to use their real identities.
Silly me, I brought up the possibility that there must be some mistake. Not at all. It was insisted upon that Diplomatic Security Rosslyn never makes mistakes, not ever. When we issue a passport, he said, that passport in the hand of that person is indeed for that person. No mistakes. Not ever. It’s who that person is, because we issued that passport to that person. If he has that passport in his hand, it’s for him. End of story. No mistakes, not ever.
But there’s two of me, I objected.
It’s not a mistake. It was insisted upon. ♯ We ♯ Don’t ♯ Make ♯ Mistakes ♯
As to this last point, pretty much every sensitive ongoing operation is done with a credible fall guy – often unwitting – with me being the fall guy for the one to whom they issued my identity, under which he entrenched as an arms supplier for the new Sinaloa Cartel. The Bureau of Diplomatic Security (by whatever name) was already doing this kind of thing for now more than a century. It’s their 101st anniversary this year (2019). Wikipedia’s top-line summary:
“The Bureau of Diplomatic Security, more commonly known as Diplomatic Security, or DS, is the security and law enforcement arm of the United States Department of State. DS is a world leader in international investigations, threat analysis, cyber security, counterterrorism, security technology, and protection of people, property, and information. DS’s mission is to provide a safe and secure environment for officials to carry out U.S. foreign policy.”
One might finish that last sentence with “…often at the expense, sometimes fatal, of unwitting citizens in good standing of these United States.”
The idea behind propping up one cartel over another, it is said, is to be able to more easily control the situation. That didn’t quite work. But that’s the idea. It’s always about the economy. And anyway, competing cartels wasn’t so much of a thing back in the day. We created “El Chapo”, bringing his violence to bear, effectively creating the Sinaloa Cartel.
I always despised my identity being used for anything benefiting Joaquin “El Chapo” Guzmán Lorea. My name is written all over so many guns, so many bullets, which have been used to kill so many people. Were these cartel agents, even of different cartels, sicarios and disloyal druggies who were killed? Sure. Those guns and bullets were also used to kill untold numbers of innocent men, women and children just to instill fear. It is said that “El Chapo” is treated as a god in Mexico, but that is out of fear, regardless of how much nice stuff he gave to people with money he otherwise couldn’t launder anyway. I don’t like my name being used for all this.
“El Chapo” is now enjoying the extra security of the ultra-super-max solitary confinement of the ADX facility in Florence, Colorado. Fine. But that doesn’t mean it’s over. That means it’s only begun. Locking him up is not something you do and then you cheer. Vengeance for the vengeance is coming. There’s an entire Cartel which is now especially upset. If we created “El Chapo” and we are now treating him in this way, well, I’m sure there will be some who reckon that a reckoning needs to be done. The monster is now bigger than “El Chapo.” When you take out a devil you might get Satan himself to replace him.
Which brings me to the point of this screed. There are a couple of favors – easy to do, ever so easy, which I think I’ve earned – that Diplomatic Security Rosslyn could and should do for me (with a heads-up to CCS). DS asked me what these requests might be, but I regrettably had to decline to mention them over a cell phone. Perhaps I can put the request in through a favorite congressman. But really, does this have to get even more stupid than it already is? Could I just talk to someone in, say, the Diplomatic Security building in Greensboro, N.C.?
P.S. For decades I’ve been baiting for any takers in an effort to figure all this out. Some took the bait not knowing what they were wading into. How annoying. But I opened myself up to that. I get what I deserve. But now the dynamics change, radically. If DS openly admits all this to me, it’s not because they think there’s no supporting documentation (they know there is), but rather because I’m so very unimportant and so utterly expendable and am an absolute nobody, just another typical fall guy. This is the normal course of affairs. It is what it is. My talking about it proves nothing. I’m still totally the fall guy. I would still like to have a chat with someone in Greensboro.