Tag Archives: FBI

Fr Byers, the FBI investigated you how many times? We want files! My real ID.




cia memorial

[[ This is put up again for a reason, years after I put it up originally, and with some revisions. ]]

Here’s the high pressure repeated request from a self-described [ex-?]CIA guy who’s now […] as cover: “Father Byers, the FBI investigated you how many times? We want files! Who are you, anyway?”

Playing along with this kind of interview, um… interrogation… can be fun for me because I like nostalgia, a lot. He baits and is thus baited back, a counterintelligence dance: which investigations do I know about, or do I know what my ID really is? Who am I anyway? ;-)

The short answer to the question about who I am and how many investigations there have been on me is this: I’m nobody. And I don’t know how many investigations. Maybe just one, as in lifelong and continuous. I would dearly love to see those “files”.

The [ex-?]CIA guy’s question (going after me and my parishioners incessantly) is incomplete and therefore inadequate. Not so smart. He said he only wants files merely from the FBI? I mean, go ahead and include the CIA (“Dedicatio par aevum” memorial pictured up top, but I guess he would already have those…) and DEA and BATFE and DHS and ICE and TSA and, most importantly, Counterintelligence for Consular Services at the Department of State and Diplomatic Security in Rosslyn. Be sure to include the dozen and a half other groups. In fact, include all those groups who were subpoenaed but who refused to answer the questions of Jason Chaffetz’s congressional investigation into Fast and Furious. Jason was ignored even though he was Congressional Chairman of Oversight. So, good luck with that, especially since I’ve been told by Main State that anything related to me has long been destroyed, the normal practice upon being placed into a perpetual interdepartmental program. Go ahead and ask for such files. Just know you might be asked, with polygraph, why you’re asking. Could be a career ending move, or send you to prison.

My rap sheet: No felonies. No misdemeanors. Ever. Nothing pending. Nothing ever having been pending. No courts. No settlements. And nothing having been “wiped” from the record. Well… There are some things that may have disappeared from my rap sheet as one sheriff told me when I asked him about it – disappeared things such as being pulled over for not wearing a seat belt when I was constantly starting and stopping to deliver meals to the home-bound for the soup kitchen. The cop admitted later that he ticketed me for purely political reasons. Anyway, that citation was, like, back in I think 2012. I found out at the court house that no one knew enough to grant permission about the statute at the time that permitted no usage of a seat belt in such conditions of constant service deliveries with permission. I can recall other times getting pulled over, like when my sister was teaching me to drive when I was twelve years old in 1972 (going on five decades ago) and I ran a trick stop sign that was posted inches behind a light pole so that it couldn’t be seen. Other occasions do come to mind. For instance, I remember I was going a little fast – like 5 miles over – in making the 1000+ mile trip to my dying dad’s bedside some decades ago. You get the idea.

A longer than short answer: I guess it would take an autobiography to even scratch the surface. I’ve had a pretty wild life. There was a time when I’m guessing that for a short while I was a most researched person in these USA. But, what do I know? That’s just a guess judging from the blog stats of hits from named and therefore not much secured servers of pretty much every intelligence HQ in these USA and around the world. You know the drill: USAIC, NNIC, DHS, DOD, DOJ, BATFE, IRS[!], SSA[!], FBI, CIA, Interpol, The Hague[!], etc., in so many centers for each all around, making the stats fly, scrolling quickly off screen, zip zip zip. I should see if I still have some screen shots from years gone by. Probably anomalous interest, right? If these were the named hits, I have to wonder what the blind hits were. It is what it is. At any rate, let me guess about a few incidents which may have instigated Federal research on yours truly now and again.

  • It’s just now just over four years ago in late 2020 since I’ve received my concealed carry handgun permit here in North Carolina, which has (in some cases by far) one of the more stringent series of local, state (SBI) and federal (FBI) background checks in these USA, a fact opening up North Carolina to reciprocity in most states of these USA. North Carolina even adds what amounts to presently illegal (because of duration, many months) checks into mental health. No records of that for me.
  • I got my Gold-Star driver license / “Real ID” when that was a thing and had to renew again in time for the election. This involves some pretty stringent background checks as well on Local, State and Federal levels.
  • I’ve been fingerprinted and checked all over the world, not for any particular reason that I could put a finger on, as it were, outside of association and location, you know, just because I happened to be in terribly dangerous places really a lot with lots of terribly dangerous people, people who have killed really a lot of people, or who are in charge of the militaries of their countries, et al. So, it finally becomes the ol’ “Who are you anyway?” kind of thing, literally, pretty much everywhere. Embassies literally ask that question in frustration, not being able to get a grasp of what good old Diplomatic Security can do. Sigh. I mean, it’s all I can do not to laugh out loud. It’s so predictable.
  • I’m still thinking about gathering some dates and info and documentation so as to sign up in the near future for Global-Entry, a jacked up version of TSA pre-check which involves checks even more stringent than for the NC firearms checks. This was still a thing in June 2020, except of course for uncooperative New York: see the CBP website. G-E involves checks against criminal and law enforcement indices (Federal, State, Local), customs, immigration, agriculture, and terrorist indices including biometric fingerprint checks and a personal interview (That‘s surely a well experienced interrogator). All the checks are not listed here. It’s a pretty long, exhaustive list. Fun!
  • Just because of past lives, as it were, I’ve recently called in some items related to financial groups and terrorism to, for instance – depending on the subject – Main State, Liberty Crossing Campus, the FBI. You can’t do such things without first being extremely thoroughly vetted by the FBI from multiple locations and on all sorts of levels. That particular and fairly recent investigation took fully two months: I was cleared by all FBI research centers spread throughout these USA and… So, fine. These series of checks are so comprehensive that they pretty much add up to joining any of our institutes or agencies minus the polygraphs. Thoroughness cannot be underestimated. Oddly, the guy taking the financial case wanted to know about terrorism. I mean, he asked about it like a half dozen times. Oh, I forgot, terrorism and financial malfeasance often go together. My bad. I finally told him to launder such amounts of money usually involves terrorist groups and, therefore, their financing. He knew I knew, and it all went forward.
  • Of course, Main State and the FBI do not put one on a perpetual interdepartmental program for no reason. It costs them resources, financial and personnel, who have to track me and, to them, my boring life. My consolation is that there’s a tiny chance that they will be inspired by at least some of the things I write. Once you’re on a program, you’re on. That’s it, forever, as the FBI strongly insisted with me, drilling this into me, way back in 1996, four years after Main State insisted on this with me in 1992. There’s no way off as there’s nothing remaining after destruction of files [Ooops! There goes those “files” the guy mentioned at the top of this post was is pressuring me about!] in order to base a new decision upon. It’s like the seal of confession. Even if the penitent gives you permission to break the seal you can’t break the seal. Someone could be putting him/her under some sort of coercion to request such a thing against his/her will (regardless of what he/she says). The information doesn’t belong to the priest. It belongs to Jesus. The same here: even if I request to get off the program I cannot do so. It’s beyond unmasking. It’s frustrating. There are summaries only with the Secretary of State and the Director of the CIA. Part of the program is to be “accompanied,” even in a terribly annoyingly obvious way, especially at airports and inside airplanes (as I was forewarned about). In analyzing this, the guy I call “The Guy” [an actual CIA guy] told me that this is meant to send a message to the idiots: If you mess around with this program you will be stopped. However annoying this can be, it’s also kinda nice. This started decades ago, perhaps when I was a teenager, in the mid-late 1970s. I need to write more about it. As mentioned above, Diplomatic Security on behalf of Counterintelligence for Consular Services established someone with secured alternative identities, as they do, the problem being that it’s my identity, that being convenient, as that guy is like the same age and looks like me, and still, after a lifetime, has my life experiences in the countries where I’ve been, and, as far as I can tell, many of my languages. He works for them. I’m groomed as the fall guy. This is the case for thousands of people in these USA. The difference with me is that I found out.
  • More recently, seemingly in April of 2018, this was all jacked up a bit. Already being in the area for something else, I had gone to FBI ATLANTA to talk about options for that perpetual interdepartmental program mentioned above. I was delayed for some twenty minutes from approaching the security building, that is, until CTU Virginia showed up. We parked together. The last two spots. He accompanied me twice to the security building (as I forgot my passport and had returned to my car to get it). He delivered a printout and entered while I was told to just go to the window. That printout was given to the agent who looked at it, looked at me, looked at it, looked at me, looked at it, looked at me, set it down, shoved it toward me and said that he has no one presently there who can speak to this. I was able to read the author’s name and the provenance of the printout, DOD DARPA. Good old nerdy DARPA. They created some mathematical complexities using massive amounts of intel that they’ve categorized and turned into that which is actionable in the field for whatever “target” they have on “the list.” That, of course, makes me, again, one of the most highly researched people in the world. Huge amounts of resources are used for such targets. Just Google “DARPA COMPASS”. I assume that this, in my regard, is simply meant to assist whomsoever in my being “accompanied” (to use Pope Francis’ terminology). As I’ve written previously, I once told the guy who was established with my identity (yes, I’ve spoken with him) that I regret the cost of such accompaniment, but he instantly cut me off before I could even finish to say that such costs are entirely negligible in view of the scope of the entire program. He cut himself off half-way through “program”, knowing he said too much.
  • I’ve been involved in one way or the other in numerous terrorist incidents [always on the right side of things, mind you], but enough to be further investigated through the decades by a number of countries, including the Holy See, Italy, these USA, Australia and, with some intensity at the highest military, intelligence levels, Israel. It is what it is. Try asking for their files on me, you know, like in המוסד. Good luck with that one too. I mean, would they give you something that had nothing to do with the real file? ;-) Either way, when you get those “files,” [pfft!] share them with me! Baiting for leakers is fun. I might even find out what is held to be my real ID. This quickly disintegrates into rabbit holes of counterintel mind games until, gaslighted, one can’t remember who one is anymore:

Having been trained into some basic counterintelligence as a teenager by a very special individual, I’ve never done the Jason Bourne thing. I never had to. In all of this, I apologize to sincere and patriotic agents of all our military and intelligence and law enforcement agencies. I poke fun at myself. I don’t mean to poke fun at you.

Meanwhile, to repeat, the reason for all the investigation thing is not because I’m special – oooh! special! – No. I’m a nothing. Nobody. And that’s the reason my identity was so conveniently used. I’m utterly expendable, truly nothing. I don’t count as a citizen of these U.S.A. I mean, the FBI were adamant about giving me an alternative identity so that I, as Father George David Byers, and a citizen in good standing, would just be disappeared. No more priesthood, no more family, no more decades of studies, all in favor of the guy who works for them and for whom I’m merely the fall guy.

I hope to be a citizen of heaven in future. You gotta have hope, right? The original sin in which I’ve post-hoc participated, and all my own sin, is all written out in the wounds of the Divine Son of God, now risen from the dead. It’s in Him that we find our identity as redeemed and saved so as to walk in humble thanksgiving in His presence, in His friendship. Saint Paul speaks of this as the Body of Christ, Jesus being the Head of the Body, we being the members. That’s the ID I want to have. Jesus is the One. He’s the only One. And He’s the one to judge us, who we are before Him. He will come to judge the living and the dead and the world by fire.

But you can’t get to know Jesus and know who you are, your “real ID” – Jesus’ love and truth and integrity – until you go to Confession. A lot. With sincerity. I do. That’s who I am: just another soul who goes to Confession, and no investigation will be able to provide anything more. Why? Because I know the following and so should we all:

Psalm 139 For the leader. A psalm of David. Oh LORD, you have probed me, you know me: you know when I sit and stand; you understand my thoughts from afar. My travels and my rest you mark; with all my ways you are familiar. Even before a word is on my tongue, LORD, you know it all. Behind and before you encircle me and rest your hand upon me. Such knowledge is beyond me, far too lofty for me to reach. Where can I hide from your spirit? From your presence, where can I flee? If I ascend to the heavens, you are there; if I lie down in Sheol, you are there too. If I fly with the wings of dawn and alight beyond the sea, Even there your hand will guide me, your right hand hold me fast. If I say, “Surely darkness shall hide me, and night shall be my light” — Darkness is not dark for you, and night shines as the day. Darkness and light are but one. You formed my inmost being; you knit me in my mother’s womb. I praise you, so wonderfully you made me; wonderful are your works! My very self you knew; my bones were not hidden from you, When I was being made in secret, fashioned as in the depths of the earth. Your eyes foresaw my actions; in your book all are written down; my days were shaped, before one came to be. How precious to me are your designs, O God; how vast the sum of them! Were I to count, they would outnumber the sands; to finish, I would need eternity. If only you would destroy the wicked, O God, and the bloodthirsty would depart from me! Deceitfully they invoke your name; your foes swear faithless oaths. Do I not hate, LORD, those who hate you? Those who rise against you, do I not loathe? With fierce hatred I hate them, enemies I count as my own. Probe me, God, know my heart; try me, know my concerns. See if my way is crooked, then lead me in the ancient paths. (nab)

These days people are talking about the FBI going through the files of priests at chanceries. Great! Have at it! Get that trustworthy counterintel guy who did up personnel for the FBI before being the fall guy… what’s his face… oh yeah… Peter Strzok. So, not so great then. So…

These days people are talking about the laity going through the files. Great! Have at it! Hopefully some kind of competence is involved, like law enforcement investigators. But people don’t like police these days, did you notice? So…

These days people are talking about any and all parishioners going through the files of the priests of their parish. That would be a real hoot. I can hear it now: “Father George chose blue as his favorite color on his million-question psych exam instead of yellow even though he’s got off the charts leadership skill sets (which would have to be yellow[!]). So, Father George has got to be lying. But why?” Meanwhile, I was thinking of Jesus’ good mom, who is depicted with blue because of the meaning of her Jewish name. That might be said to be ideological but it is sincere, and therefore not a lie. And blue is my favorite color anyway.

You want to know about my life? You sure you got the right guy? Have at it. But, I say, and so should we all: Jesus Christ, you are my life! Jesus is the One who is forgotten in all of this. Always forgotten. Jesus is not there in faithlessness. Jesus is not there in investigations. Jesus is not there in any solutions proposed by fallen human beings at all. I insist, and so should we all:

Jesus Christ: You are my life!

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Filed under Intelligence Community, Law enforcement, Military, Terrorism, המוסד

Fr Byers, who are you, anyway? Apologia.

[[ This post was originally published December 19, 2017. It’s republished now as baiting for some who need to be baited for their own good. ]]

With the videos above I poke fun at myself. Sorry for some of the language in them. I apologize to those who actually want an answer to the question about my identity, to those who don’t accept the answer that I am a simple back-mountain priest on the outside of the peripheries. That’s all I am. And I’m happy with that. Truly.

The problem is that there are those who are ferociously asking about my real identity even now as if that question has never been asked before, not knowing that I have been one of the most researched people on the planet by whatever wing of Catholicism, or Protestantism, or atheism, or of whatever religion, Judaism, Islam, or whatever political entity overseas, but most especially by our own intelligence services, the latter being interested because of my “Shadow”, and because and all the hyper-sensitive places I’ve been, all the terrorists with whom I have been “friends,” all the terrorist incidents in which I have in one way or another been involved, all the friends I have on the very highest levels in the military, in intelligence services, in the Church. But, hey! You newcomers! Go for it!

The question is, of course, why the interest in me? By all accounts, I am just another boring priest among the million or so priests on the face of the earth. I am just one more boring person among the billions of people who are presently alive. So, why me?

Inside the Church, the ultra-liberal swamp rats think that I am their hero because of some of the rather extraordinary people I know and the type of degrees I have behind my name, thinking that anyone with those qualifications (those people and those institutions) has to be one of the more dangerous-to-the-status-quo people on the face of the earth, and so I am welcomed, until they get to know me, but even then, their suspicions that I am way to the right in their estimation remains merely suspicion, for I simply can’t be of Tradition if I know their darlings and have the degrees I do. They think I am just being very, very clever, more political than they could imagine could be possible. Their question remains: “Who are you, anyway?”

Inside the Church again, the ultra-traditional-ism-ists treat me the same way, suspicious that I am a filthy liberal because of the people I know and the degrees that I have, and yet are confused by the things I have done in my life, doing more for the reinstatement of the Traditional liturgy (more than the Mass, also the sacraments and exorcism, etc), than most all of them put together. They think all that is subterfuge, a cover. “Who are you, anyway?” they scream, condemning me as one of those “priests” who loves “mercy,” but then wondering what is going on because they never see me embrace any heresy, any leftist position, so that they simply hate that I won’t hate who they hate as much as they hate, or even hate at all. They think I am a careerist, but then watch in amazement how I throw away “career” after “career.” I could certainly have had a multitude of careers in the Church, could have long been a bishop, actually archbishop at this stage, the problem being that I just won’t compromise, not to protect my record of not compromising, but because I believe in serving Jesus. But that is what they will not accept. “Who are you, anyway?” they scream again.

I suppose I should give a few examples. Early on I was invited to go to the Academia Ecclesiastica, but I turned that down with the excuse that I just would not make a career of compromising my priesthood. That was very offensive to some career diplomats, believe me. I’m sure many are devout believers. Some are anything but that. I knew quite a bit about those who were beholden more to the State than to Jesus. I have a lot of friends. But I felt I was too weak to last as a believer in such settings. Either I would cave in or be removed as useless to the ways of compromise. So, why bother? That’s just the way it was. That’s a confession about how bad and evil I was. Then there was a now long-deceased ecclesiastical superior who wanted to pull some strings and have me appointed as one of the Inquisitors at the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, but I dissuaded him as well. At the time, among some in the CDF, it was all about how to please bishops. I just couldn’t do it, fearful that I wouldn’t be able to remain faithful to Jesus, fearful that I would simply be removed as someone useless to the world of compromise. Mind you, the CDF did do some great things at the time under then Cardinal Ratzinger, especially the ghost-writing of the official interpretation of Canon 915 (upon which I had some incisive influence from afar). Anyway, there was also a push to get me into the Congregation for the Clergy, and the Congregation for Saints, heck, after my time at Vatican Radio, even Communications at their new offices was put before me. The biggest career I turned down, however, was to go to teach at a certain University in Buenos Aires, where I’m quite sure I would have in no time (if not from the very beginning) been put in administrative positions as a jumping board to other things. I turned that down because the whole thing seemed geared to smashing down my faithfulness to Jesus. I was afraid of my weakness, afraid of being removed as someone useless to political correctness of compromise. I have to wonder what would have happened between Father and then Archbishop Jorge Bergoglio and myself, what with our common friends. I have to wonder what would have been the future of the ghost writing of Amoris laetitia, if, instead, I would have written that in a manner manifestly reflecting the teaching of the Church. I am a failure, I suppose, for not having taken up those careers in the Church. I am certainly a failure for having been fearful of anything at the time. I have only since then learned by the grace of God not to fear anything, ever. Why? Because Jesus is the One. He’s the only One.

Anyway, outside the Church, because of my life-time relationship of sorts with my “Shadow” (which has nothing to do with me, by the way), the State Department, Department of Justice, Department of Defense and various and sundry operators of any and all military or intelligence backgrounds have long wondered and frequently asked, always after long investigations and always with frustration, “Who are you, anyway?” This has become, over many decades and with countless examples, both humorous and predictable. Some, if they are good guys, just do what they are told in my regard (because of the “Shadow” thing) or they are afraid to bring it further to Mike Pompeo or [[Tillerson]] Gina Haspel because their own treasonous behaviors would be brought to light, especially now, but that’s another story, that is, as to how I’ve been trying to bring those treasonous behaviors to light. At this point, it seems that my “Shadow” has successfully turned the tables so that it must be me who is the too vaunted Gray Man, in which case the question, “Who are you, anyway?” becomes both a protection and liability. It has, in fact, always been this way. It is what it is. There are benefits. There are drawbacks.

As it is, throughout my life my identity has been a standing “inside joke” for me and Jesus, for He has given me the grace which He willingly gives to all, the grace not to be novel, that is, no novelties, with the point being that only One who is important, the only One who has anything to say, is Jesus. He’s the One. He’s the only One. We are to our utmost to be instruments of His, letting His love and truth and goodness and truth and kindness and truth and mercy and truth be manifested through us. We are to have nothing of our own, no identity apart from Him. It’s all about Him. He is ever ancient, ever new. I am far from it, but it would be my hope to say that if there is anything that is ecclesial and of God in my life, that people will say: “Look at that. That’s not Fr George. That’s Jesus. Thank God for his great mercy.”

At the rare time that circumstances are such that it is important not to be novel, not to compromise, not to betray Jesus as regards Church or State, I have not compromised, ever. This is in itself so very novel, you know, not to embrace the novelty of being a “man of consensus”, not to embrace being a coward, that I have also been condemned as someone who promotes “admiratio” for this very reason. Ironic how that works. The very attempt to respect faith and morals, the attempt not to be Promethean, not to be neo-Pelagian, not to be self-absorbed, or self-referential, not to be corrupt, is the very thing which makes people condemn me as being all those things, for, they say, only someone full of himself, arrogant and Pharisaical, would want to be different from them, and instead want to be in solidarity with some sort of Sign of Contradiction. “Who are you, anyway?” they scream, wanting to know how it is that I could possibly not cave into their bullying ways. I could give a thousand examples regarding faith or morals or national security. But why bother? I have learned that people are not interested in arguments. They are only interested in pushing and pushing and pushing to see if, for real, there is faithfulness. In all their cynicism, they want to know if faithfulness is possible in this world. In the end, it’s all about being smashed down and, even while being smashed down, saying with Jesus’ love and truth and goodness and kindness and mercy: “I forgive you. I want to see you in heaven.” And in that way, there is no compromise, no novelty, nothing of me, only Jesus. I’m sure I’m not there yet. I am totally weak. But He gives me the grace to want to be nothing, that is, for Jesus, that is, to have no identity apart from Him, so that He can use me for what He wants, that is, His love, His truth, His goodness, His kindness, His mercy.

The “inside joke” is all about what happens. Here’s the deal: when you don’t compromise, you will get smashed down, hard. There are damned if you do, damned if you don’t situations, but you don’t compromise. There are horrific circumstances, but you don’t compromise. All is hopeless, completely hopeless, but you don’t compromise. And then you are smacked down, hard. O.K. But then, in remaining faithful in all things, Jesus picks you up. He makes life so very, very interesting in this way. How boring non-faithfulness must be. In contrast, the vistas of faith upon panoramas of hard reality are exhilarating. No amount of darkness can quench the bond of love with God that God Himself puts into our hearts. And this is one thing that is novel. This is something new. It is God’s love among us, Emmanuel. But Jesus brings that newness, not us. We can only receive that newness when we have nothing new of our own, nothing novel, no identity of our own.

Who am I, anyway? I hope for a love which casts out all fear. I hope one day to say that I am nobody, nothing, that Jesus is my All. I hope to say that Jesus is the One, that He’s the only One, that I find my identity in Him, that He finds me and brings me into the reality of love and truth.

P.S. At the moment, someone is condemning me as someone who is enjoying the all too easy life of a pastor on the peripheries. If only they knew! Well, I must say that I love being a priest, a pastor, and on the peripheries. I love being a priest. I love watching Jesus, the Priest, at work. I love everything about any possible way and manner of being a priest. It is true that an intellectual / academic “career” would be tough, as the Common Doctor says when commenting on the brightness of a halo in the Summa, as there is a 1000 times more anguish for the flock in such circumstances. In this regard I would absolutely love being the or one of the Papal Theologians (though I’m not a Dominican). My goodness, the things I could write on Genesis, on ecumenical cooperation with biblical manuscripts (going to the heart of ecumenism), on the women of the Gospels, on papal infallibility, on reaching out to the Orthodox, on being a missionary, on mercy, on the formation of seminarians… But, I am here, and I am also happy where I am, in the tiniest parish in North America, in the most remote place possible. I love it. That’s who I am, one who is in love with everything about The Priest, Jesus.

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Filed under Intelligence Community, Jesus

100% criminal fraud risk, yours truly the unwitting kiddie-porn star, my blog, FBI: hunting the animals

“185.220.101.193 – Fraud Score: 100%”

“IP address 185.220.101.193 is a very high fraud risk. This IP address is owned by Markus Koch who are themselves a high risk ISP. Scamalytics see medium levels of traffic from this IP address across our global network, almost all of which is fraudulent. We apply a risk score of 100/100 to 185.220.101.193, meaning that of the web traffic where we have visibility, 100% is suspected to be fraudulent. If you see web traffic from this IP address there is potentially a very high risk that it is criminals engaged in fraudulent activity. Other types of traffic may pose a different risk or no risk. 185.220.101.193 is operating a TOR exit node, which is likely to be proxying traffic from another geographical location. The geographical location of 185.220.101.193 is in the Netherlands, however the geographical location of the user could be anywhere in the world.”

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Unlike the 100% crowd above, some TOR networks with such IPs are of little risk, maybe 1%, maybe 33%, maybe 50%, maybe 85% of activity being criminally fraudulent. The above crowd is 100%. Wow.

I assume that these guys have total control of my blog, though they may only be using my site to host conversations in the background, having fun. It could just be some nefarious people already known to me doing a bit of gaslighting. Whatever. I’ve already see the Son of the Living God on the Cross. I’ve already looked Satan in the face in my short life. Nothing can gaslight me. I’ve been far beyond the idiocy of the best of gaslighters to witness extreme lack of wisdom. Now, I haven’t looked, but I don’t think anyone has messed with any content of this blog as of this writing. Well, there was a dialogue box that popped up on my desktop asking me to enter my Windows Password, which is the Password for the entire physical computer. Hmmm…. No. Just because. Too impolite, lacking in courtesy.

Of the dozens of TOR networks hacking away, one in particular is the expert at hacking raw formatted hard drives and flash drives to recover previous content. Interesting, you know, all those great pictures of Flowers for the Immaculate Conception! Of course, they could just ask me, instead of playing the role of breathless fools.

I already have enough of those in my life who are using a loved one as a proxy to harass, knowing that their mafia-esque extortion to “go along with the plan”, as they’ve said, rife with offers of bribes as well, might just work in that such a family member is otherwise helpless against their machinations. They might go so far in these next days to have that elderly and helpless loved thrown on to the street in the middle of nowhere in the middle of what is already winter where this person is. The cruelty is extreme. If these hackers are working for this cruel people, they might want to repent and do something better with their lives.

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Hackers are of course, on the take, either themselves, or they sell the information they acquire. They could use their talents for good by presenting themselves, say, to the NSA. Why not? And don’t give me this:

Good ol’ Will.

I have a project for the hackers. Sorry, I can’t pay you. But maybe you can redeem yourselves by bringing something to the FBI for me. Don’t send me anything. NO! And I suggest you only do this by first announcing yourselves to the FBI, working with them.

Here’s the deal: When I was a kid, born in 1960, and before, during, after I was a student at North Junior High School in Saint Cloud, Minnesota, USA, so, say, late 1960s into the mid-1970s, all the swimming classes were done with forced nudity with movie cameras everywhere around the pool, up in the bleachers, in the shower room, in the locker room. I’m guessing this is one of the largest troves of kiddy-porn ever made in modern history. I’m guessing millions of stills, millions of film-shorts are still circulating on whatever it is that is called the dark-web. While images were acquired decades ago, any archiving, any distribution by anyone anywhere is a felony. I’d like all these animals to go to prison. Can you do that? Thanks in advance.

Me as a kid:

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TORs & Proxies. Fraud & Hackers. Why?

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 don’t get it.

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Census Bureau mocks my religion, threatens $5,000 fine 5 years prison or both

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.

The Yin Yang philosophy behind COMPASS also specifically uses religion not just as an indicator but also as an identifier, as we will read below.

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.”

More concisely:

  • 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…

A typical gas light

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.

This is a gas light acquired by yours truly a few years ago. Now even I can practice gaslighting!

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.

It’s all too easy.

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My LEO & DOT experience yesterday, post removed

Yesterday’s post about FTP (F*** THE POLICE) etc. was best removed as there are developments. Any Justice Department, FBI, SBI, DEA hacks who want to take a look at that post, be my guest. It’s not erased. It’s in “Draft mode” at the moment. There are people all y’all will want on your radar for any crazy foreseeable times to come. The perps are totally powder kegs with short fuses. All the pictures are still in that post, still in the archives of the blog. Go for it. Quite damning, really. It’s just that I didn’t know how damning those pictures were, and how they implicated certain people whose established names and locations come to mind now that a certain timeline of events were established. LOL. Truly: LOL.

Have I already been singled out by said perps? From all indications, absolutely. Whatever. I’m with the ICPC and I can’t stand idly by while assassination threats are made by idiots. Not just graffiti. There’s a lot I’m not saying. Just. Wow. Hah! LOL. Idiots are such totall idiots. But, it needs taking care of, badly, you know, because they ARE idiots.

After putting that post up I had trundled off to see some law enforcement, asking that I be allowed to take pressure off certain powers that be by my painting over some very specific threats. The only reason that wasn’t allowed was because, by law, paint cannot be left on the roadway, and the DOT would have to clean or replace the signs as only they know how to do. The DOT should charge the idiot haters the cost of cleaning, etc.

The fact of it is, the crime was basically solved in my meeting with the Sheriff and the DOT was called and put into action so very quickly that by the time I passed by the scene(s) of the crime on my way back to Andrews the DOT workers were already removing the graffiti. I thanked them for their quick work of it, and the response from these gentlemen was unforgettable:

  • “Thanks for that, sir. I mean we have other things to do. We don’t have time for this kind of crap. The guy who did this ought to be hanged.”

I laughed and thanked them again. The one guy was really upset, and is not the kind of guy you want upset with you. So… that would be an agreement. LOL! That made my day. Perfect. Hah!

But more than this, during that meeting up in Robbinsville, within just a few minutes the Sheriff had signed me on as another chaplain, signing all sorts of forms and such. They have a chaplain who is part time LEO as well with an incredibly awesome CV. But two is often better than one, at least for me as I hope to learn very much from him and the entire Sheriff’s Department. With me having signed my life away on those forms, we then talked a bit more about some some law enforcement matters. Mum’s the word on all that. Hah! What a great morning. What a great morning.

Moral of the story: Go ahead and do something. I’ve sometimes ranted about the seemingly useless “If you see something, say something” advice, but this time everything was put into action literally within seconds. That’s totally cool, restorative, really. Yay!

U.S.A. U.S.A. U.S.A.

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Bait so as to receive: how very Kryptos. Plot twist. Jesus reveals our identity.

wp-15968375375997963153604031017738.jpg

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).

pieta

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Father George wants a WMD? Yes. So, more investigations on yours truly.

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I miss my hermitage range, a lot. It’s like a 4 1/2 to 5 hour round trip. What to do? There were things I could do there that I can’t elsewhere, such as with moving targets. I once had three plastic coffee buckets (breakfast blend, of course), swinging from different distances. But my favorite was this 1″x1″ by three foot stick swinging, the objective being to cut it in half while it was wildly swinging about 21 feet away:

I’ve been looking for another range close to Andrews, where I could just go at will in the early morning and shoot away.

Why? Well, I do carry in this infamous druggie town where we have murderers (beheadings, burnings, shootings, slashings), especially at the ready with civilian 2a rights as I accompany our law enforcement officers as their chaplain. I should be sharp in skill, wherein smooth is fast. I’m not a natural, so practice is essential. My dogs have been shot lots of times with pellet guns, and Shadow’s house had a 9 mm put through it. I had a visit the other day, but I’m not convinced 100% that it was the perp. He did have plenty of veiled threats, though he was trying to be really polite (as he scoped out the place?). Defense from unjust deadly and imminent aggression in progress is divine right, right?

I went up to the Sheriff’s Department and asked – as the Police Chaplain – if I could use their range at the Law Enforcement Training Center just down the road from the rectory. They were good with that altogether. When, was the question. Early morning, I responded, when no one would ever sign up and so I could just go, say, at dawn. There’s a problem, was the answer, someone who lives not far from there who likes to sleep in the morning.

Hmmm… What to do? I know! Get a suppressor. But in North Carolina that’s considered a weapon of mass destruction. Seriously. No, really. But there is a solution. It starts with an FFL putting in paperwork with the ATF, or BATFE. Great! More sets of fingerprints, more forms. That’s alright. I’m easy with complying to stuff like this.

The problem is that I have only two fingerprints, kind of, left on my hands out of the ten kind of available. The SBI here is good with that, however, and just put them through the first try. I guess they already have some “files” on me. ;-) See:

And then there’s this one (forgot about this):

Looks like I have an appointment to get this all started on Tuesday, one of those “Day Off” things.

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Keto Day 47 for Jabba the Hut. Ooops. Totally *spoilt* edition.

jabba the hut

Controversy: *Cheat days* or *Splurge days* on Keto. What a fright. I guess it depends how it’s done. Priests have an especially difficult time doing up Keto as parish socials wreck havoc on good intentions, with everyone trying their best to *be nice to our priest*. Having made Keto a thing, however, most have learned that I’m stickin’ to it and most respect my wishes to be more charitable by staying alive by taking care of myself rather than being “nice” because I eat everything and more that everyone prepares for the socials.

Keto – being tailor designed for apparently obsessive compulsive but actually incredible results driven continuation – has provided a great excuse to keep the *Be a failure at your diet!” crowd, and the *It’s good to cheat!* crowd at bay.

Until now.

The other day was an anniversary for me – 38 years of priesthood – and a 25 year deputy, knowing I do like steak and knowing it is Keto friendly (he having done the research on all ingredients in secret sauce and spices and extras), secretly brought a charcoal grill to the church campus, hiding it behind the social hall. He disappeared during the homily to get it fired up and super heated and threw on two nine ounce steaks.

What could I do? It is Keto friendly. I’m soooo weak. They were devoured forthwith. A wonderful gift.*

Those sumptuous steaks gave me some overages for the day:

  • Protein: +82
  • Calories: +540
  • Fat: +23

Since my carbs for the day’s planned menu were only 9.56 I thought I would kind of be alright it I just stopped eating for the day and the next couple of days.

But this morning – on the scale – I find out that Ketosis truly is very powerful. Regardless of the overages, I still lost 2 ounces by the next day. That‘s encouraging. Truly a results driven continuation.

I’ve now lost more than 30 pounds. Sometimes it’s two steps down and one step up and repeat, but this is -0.63 pounds per day average.

PS: the gag hat is from a 90 year old ninja lady who leads the Rosary before Sunday Mass.

*But that gives no one permission to repeat that kind gesture!

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Day Off Failure Drill in ammo-less USA: HOW DARE YOU FBI QIT 97 99 combo

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[For UPDATE, scroll down.] Some politicized tender snowflakes are all huffy about how they are scandalized by a priest who is a permitted and trained up concealed carrier of a Glock “assualt” pistol, you know, tender snowflakes scandalized something along the lines of…

 climate change un how dare you greta greta thunberg GIF

Thankfully, there’s no sound to that. To the scandalized, let me spend a couple of paragraphs telling a story about how my “day off” began… Hundreds of miles were racked up by Sassy the Subaru on the “day off” yesterday. I had to get someone anointed who’s in dire straits. Prayers for him, please. Yet another operation revealed just a few hours later… um… something terrible, horrible. I’ve never heard of something that bad for that. There may be more operations to come. Hail Mary…

That anointing was done on the fly at the soup kitchen, next to the dumpster in which I used to dive for a living. You gotta do what you gotta do. And… Ahhh, the memories. The following picture is someone else somewhere else, but this is exactly the position I found myself in. Tip: kicking your legs out lets the pivoting action help you drag up even heavy bags or containers and flip them out while you yourself drop to the ground. I made sure everyone was covered legally by making sure I was appointed to being in charge of the dumpster and dumpster area, keeping it all clean and swept and hosed down and in order. One person complained, but then backed off humiliated for being such a busy body when it was discovered I was also sometimes paying for the dumpster truck emptying of the dumpster. $50.00 bucks a pop. “I like to keep my affairs regular,” as Saint Thomas More said to Oliver Cromwell. ;-)

DUMPSTER DIVING

Meanwhile, on the day off, after the anointing, going back to my far-away parish by another route – still a zillion miles away – I was able to swing by the back ridges where the hermitage surveys all from on high, seen by none, even in the winter. The pics at the top of this post are of the altar of the hermitage back in the day. I did up some chapters of spiritual reading (a book on the lives of the saints, which makes for new friends across history and in heaven now). I confess that I haven’t done that in a loooong time. I think this progress in the necessary is the direct result of having more energy and being a bit clearer of mind because of the keto diet, which is still going very well. I’m hoping I’ll drop into the 230s by Christmas, having started some weeks ago in the 260s.


Now to guns and ammo stuff. After reading about the saints and doing up a few prayers, I thought it might be a good idea to do up some practice with the Glock. I haven’t done up any tactical pistol courses or even any drills for many weeks. I thought it would be good to do up what would be the most important drill with which to have some skill: the “Failure Drill.”

“Failure Drill.” That’s a rather depressing title. It has nothing to do with the permitted-carrier-victim failing to hit the body (torso) of the perp-deadly-aggressor twice (if necessary). It’s about those two hits failing to stop the aggression, say, because, as is recently the case in mass shootings, the aggressor perp guy is wearing lots of ballistic protection. The idea is then to take a shot which is more likely to take away any imminent, active threat of even dozens (more) having their lives ended: one to the head. So, I like to call this drill “The Stop the Threat Drill.” Friends in the military will laugh at that, and have, for saying stuff like that, but – Hey! – I’m a civilian, and a priest, and a Missionary of Mercy. For me it’s all about just stopping an imminent, deadly, active threat of a mass shooter. Nothing more, but nothing less. Why let someone continue to gun down even dozens of people? Stopping that threat is the way to go.

In the past, it was enjoyable to do tactical pistol courses as a way to learn how to shoot a pistol, something I’ve never even held outside of my dad’s .45 that he would carry as a bomber and then fighter attack pilot for the USMC in WWII. As a kid, that made me wide eyed. But I had never even shot a pistol once before getting my purchase permit now just over three years ago.

But those tactical pistol courses are, I’m afraid, in the past tense. That’s bad for everyone. When the chief law enforcement officer of your county (this also being a 2nd amendment sanctuary) provides a concealed carry permit to a citizen, that citizen should be well practiced in all sorts of drills and scenarios and situational awareness, the latter of which is all about awareness of how to avoid trouble in the first place, also by way of deescalation in a thousand different ways. The drills part is what’s now hurting, though I’m sure I could sail through the prerequisite drills for any N.C. concealed carry course.

When ammo was cheap and available at Walmart, I would get the Federal brass FMJ for the drills, as the relatively cheaper Winchester for my Glock 19 was catastrophic. Anyway, with so much ammo to practice with, I had the “Failure Drill” (2 to body then 1 to head) from locked holster on target out 25 feet in less than two seconds, though not consistently. The record was 1.01 seconds for all three shots. But that was when ammo was cheap and readily available.

But now, with no more cheap ammo, there’s a lot less practice. That lowers the safety for the permitted citizen who is already four times more liable to be in a deadly situation than others for countless reasons. We shouldn’t forget that the reason prompting him to get a permit is that he is likely living in or travels through or makes stops in more dangerous environs than some others. In other words, the increase in danger is not about any service that permitted citizen is doing for the benefit of society, but about the untoward aggression of the druggy violent gang culture in which we live.

Without being well practiced, the permitted-citizen-carrier might be slower to draw up on an individuated, isolated, able, imminent and active mortal threat already shooting at him or dozens of others (bullets whizzing by my head has happened many times to me in my life, an unforgettable sound), and even if drawing up is done in time, the permitted-citizen might be less accurate because of the lack of practice, and therefore less able to stop the mortal threat with efficiency. That’s bad for the citizen and bad for all others involved, including the aggressor perp, who is much more likely to survive a hit or two to the body rather than yet another one to the head if that becomes necessary (say, if he’s possibly wearing a ballistic vest or whatever, and he’s continuing to kill people). In other words, if the first shot or two are accurate enough to stop the threat, the shot to the head may not be necessary, and the perp might well survive. Isn’t that a good thing. I think it is. I mean, I would be the kind who, after stopping the threat, would grant him absolution if he were able to take it in.

As it is, my shot timer has had to continue counting the seconds longer than it ever has for the three shots of this drill, even unto many multiples of my record. Not good for anyone. Skipping all the courses, what I do now with limited bullets is just to make sure I’m consistently on target, getting the times for the three bullets of this drill down below 2 seconds before I stop the session. But that’s minimalism. That’s not good enough.

Wrapping one’s mind around the time pressure is always a bit weird. I’m not disciplined enough to get two together in the chest and then one in the head (the target being the FBI detail of the combo of the QIT 97-99 that I print out on a sheet of 8.5″ x 14″ legal paper and put 25 feet out). See the picture at the end of this post which you can dump in a word processor and print out. Cheapest best targets ever.

Because of the shot-timer, I end up “walking” the bullets up the spinal column, with the one to the head being relatively the most accurate, mostly in the 3″x3″ box at the top of the page. But then I see that that “walking” the bullets up might actually be the best methodology to stop the threat without having to go for the head shot.

Perhaps I can work up the pre-2001 Federal Air Marshal pre-flight qualifier tactical pistol course into drills which involve the “Failure Drill” described above, thus, including tactical and combat mag changes, spinning from 180 degrees to hit multiple targets, dropping to a knee, etc. That would really go through tons of ammo if each target and drill involved 2+1 bullets. For instance, 2+1 from holster while dropping to a knee while doing a combat mag-change and immediately putting out another 2+1. That’s six bullets instead of two.

I’ll have to investigate teaming up with others and getting ammo special shipped. But it’ll be a far cry from the low prices of Walmart. Ammo is as heavy as… well… lead. The trouble with that, however, is that the guys who would be interested in this aren’t really interested. They’re all military, and without much practice at all, if ever, they’re spectacular shots, totally upset if they get a result of 99 points on a 100 point course.


Back to tender snowflake scandal: Don’t be scandalized. This is recreation now rarely and then only very briefly on a day off that is otherwise taken up with priestly stuff. You wouldn’t begrudge a priest some time off, would you?

  • “The apostles gathered together with Jesus and reported all they had done and taught. He said to them, ‘Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while.’ People were coming and going in great numbers, and they had no opportunity even to eat. So they went off in the boat by themselves to a deserted place.” (Mark 6:30-32 nab)

Of course, even in the backsides of the beyonds, the phone rings. Yesterday it was Father Gordon. We had a great conversation. And it was also another priest. We also had a great conversation. Or is all that forbidden too? It is to laugh. But it’s also sad that people spend their time being trolls, repeating again and again:

“How dare you?! How dare you?!”

FBI QIT 99 97 legal

FBI QIT 99-97 combo detail. If you copy and paste into a word processor document set for legal size paper and with minimum margins, and then stretch the picture out to fill the page, you should have the exact measurements on the page. Paste to any cardboard and attach that so a “pigtail” wire (used for political lawn signs) available at Lowes, and you’ll be good to go.

UPDATE: So, I was informed just now of an ammo shop some states away though actually closer than I normally go on my day off. Their reloaded ammo, if bought in quantity, is only a few more bucks than Walmart used to sell new ammo. We’ll have to see if the reloaded ammo works. They have no new 9mm ammo.

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Recording Sacramental Confessions & United States Department of Justice

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The DoJ has many times been to the post with the detail of the screenshot of the URL above. The URL is misleading. I had been writing about the prudence – or not – as to whether essential members of racketeering influenced and corrupt organizations (RICO) such as mafiosi (who happen to be Catholic by baptism) should be automatically excommunicated in such manner that Missionaries of Mercy might be delegated to remove such medicinal penalties upon any repentance. Archbishop Rino Fisichella, who spearheads the Missionaries of Mercy project for Pope Francis, told me when I was last in Rome that this was not their project, nor that of Pope Francis, but a project of others in the Roman Curia, and had been abandoned. But that’s not the point of the visits to the post, as that aspect of the post was also changed mid-writing. The URL stayed but the subject matter was different.

What continues to be of interest in that post by the DoJ regards the recording of Sacramental Confessions, something that the FBI (a bureau under the DoJ) has been caught doing a number of times by way of bugging Confessionals in such churches as Saint Patrick’s Cathedral in Manhattan, again and again. They don’t give a damn, literally. They can’t bring that information to court, but it’s useful for structuring directions of investigations, it being easy for U.S. Attorneys to provide other more legal motivations to the court for why certain investigations were undertaken.

I find it interesting that the Department of Justice continues to look at this post with some regularity:

https://ariseletusbegoing.com/2017/07/14/missionaries-of-mercy-reconfirmed-mafia-excommunications-undecided/

Surely this isn’t to prosecute anyone who is abusing the first amendment rights to free exercise of religion as guaranteed by the Constitution of these United States by way of the recording of Confessions. No, no. It’s the very DOJ via the FBI which abuses the Sacramental rights of Catholics.

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Killing the FBI in my parish

forensic camera

Holy Mass was offered in my parish for the repose of the soul of a Huntsville, Alabama FBI forensic photographer who suffered what is termed a suspicious death the other week in my parish, that is, in one of the most remote patches of national forest in North America, up at historic Stewart Cabin campground. Google-Map “Stewart Cabin” to see just how remote it is from… anything…

In my varied life I’ve learned that that which answers a question the most consistently – internally and externally – and also the most simply, leaving little room for complexities to be subject to confirmation bias or whatever manipulation, is usually the hypothesis that’s getting closer to the truth than anything else. Everything about this seems rotten to the core.

The FBI has already swarmed away (along with four other law enforcement agencies), for what it’s worth depending on who’s directing things. But when something like this happens in my parish, I take it personally. Was she doing something she shouldn’t have been doing, you know, from whatever perspective on whatever side of the fence? Was she doing something way too well, getting too close to the truth? Was she just taking pictures of nature? Really? Appearances mean nothing one way or the other when it comes to this level of law enforcement. So, again, if it happens in my parish, I’m personally offended. It is what it is.

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Taking aim at my lack of aim because…

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Before I got my purchase permit and then immediately my concealed carry permit here in Western North Carolina 2+ years ago, I had never shot a pistol in my life. I got it because in some places of our Catholic Diocese a prerequisite for being a police chaplain is to go though critical incident training facilitated by the FBI. Part of the course deals with terrorists and terrorism and situational awareness and the handling of critical incidents so as to facilitate the most people surviving in whatever ways of assistance that is possible according to the possibilities.

Because of unforeseen contingencies, the agents make you familiar with, that is, know how to break down and set up and accurately fire under any conditions pretty much any kind of gun there is, at least all the variants used by any police department or police response unit in one’s region. While I figured I could learn how to work with rifles or shotguns easy enough (though I would have to stare at the math for sniper work a bit), I also thought that it would be more difficult to acquire skills for a pistol, such as shooting while running, etc., and that those lack of skills would slow me down.

As one can tell from the older pictures above, early on I was tending to make grip mistakes, with inconsistency being my strong point, you know, with being self-taught and all that. It’s pretty bad when inconsistency is your strongest point! I had plenty of hyper-qualified people giving advice, but only rarely would I be at a range with anyone. The hermitage is the most middle of nowhere place for a range imaginable. Leading myself, it’s the blind leading the blind. And it’s that way until today. So, I need practice. But I haven’t been able to have a good extended session for really quite a long time now. And since those pictures were taken above I’ve pretty much limited myself to various tactical pistol courses, such as this simple one for periodic pistol qualification for already serving FBI agents. It’s easy as they don’t want agents getting a DQ, a disqualification. Here’s that course pictured below:

That picture is also pretty old, but it exactly represents what I put up the other day in the exact same place at the hermitage. Those are legal size paper details of the inside bottle of the QIT 97-99 set out at 3-5-7-15-25 yards. One draws from the holster for various combinations of shots and timings. Here’s what I had just started to do on the infamous “Day Off” the other day in a totally relaxed manner. Timings are in hundredths of seconds:

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So, not so quick. Cutting those times in half would be ideal. But the hits were all in time and all accurate. But that’s a false report, really, as I didn’t bother to get myself worked up with a bit of adrenaline (as one can do with, say, hill sprints, or not!), which adrenaline is what will always happen in a critical incident. Anyway, after this, I had planned on doing the FAMs course and SEALs course, et al., but I didn’t even finish stage four (of five stages) a couple of minutes into the first run through the FBI course.

The phone rang. The police.

As soon as I answered, I knew I was done with any shooting for the day and started packing up the targets mid-course while I continued speaking. That phone call went on for a very long time there on that mountain trail up to the hermitage. The phone cut out multiple times (no strong cell-tower signal at the hermitage) but we reconnected and continued until we talked ourselves out for the day. It was getting dark out, so I headed down the ridge and had a great chat and meal with the neighbors and then got myself back home before midnight. Some hundreds of miles. The next day was given to research about that conversation, and today will be given over to answering this interlocutor by email.

The guy with whom I was talking is well known to all police chiefs in the country. He recommended lots of things to me to put some past skills at the service of law enforcement locally, in these USA, and on a more international basis. I recognized in him a spirit which I only sometimes come across. His devotion to God and country, his patriotism, his integrity, the suffering he’s been through, all so inspiring.

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Mrs Kavanaugh’s request: Psalm 40

david harp

1 For the leader. A psalm of David. 2 I waited, waited for the LORD; who bent down and heard my cry, 3 Drew me out of the pit of destruction, out of the mud of the swamp, Set my feet upon rock, steadied my steps, 4 1 And put a new song in my mouth, a hymn to our God. Many shall look on in awe and they shall trust in the LORD. 5 Happy those whose trust is the LORD, who turn not to idolatry or to those who stray after falsehood. 6 How numerous, O LORD, my God, you have made your wondrous deeds! And in your plans for us there is none to equal you. Should I wish to declare or tell them, too many are they to recount. 7 Sacrifice and offering you do not want; but ears open to obedience you gave me. Holocausts and sin-offerings you do not require; 8 so I said, “Here I am; your commands for me are written in the scroll. 9 To do your will is my delight; my God, your law is in my heart!” 10 I announced your deed to a great assembly; I did not restrain my lips; you, LORD, are my witness. 11 Your deed I did not hide within my heart; your loyal deliverance I have proclaimed. I made no secret of your enduring kindness to a great assembly. 12 LORD, do not withhold your compassion from me; may your enduring kindness ever preserve me. 13 For all about me are evils beyond count; my sins so overcome me I cannot see. They are more than the hairs of my head; my courage fails me. 14 LORD, graciously rescue me! Come quickly to help me, LORD! 15 Put to shame and confound all who seek to take my life. Turn back in disgrace those who desire my ruin. 16 Let those who say “Aha!” know dismay and shame. 17 But may all who seek you rejoice and be glad in you. May those who long for your help always say, “The LORD be glorified.” 18 Though I am afflicted and poor, the Lord keeps me in mind. You are my help and deliverer; my God, do not delay!

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Going to Jail

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In one of the many counties of the parish we have a new jail, partially pictured above.

I was able to arrange a face to face with a prisoner. There are a number of Catholics on the inside. If not face to face, a huge exception to the rule – conversations are all recorded by way of video conferencing from the entrance way. But it’s all recorded anyway  even when brought inside for face to face in an interrogation room! If Pope Francis only knew that his Missionary of Mercy is talking to people in actual interrogation rooms! Anyway, face to face is a real help.

My foray into face to face took yet another full law enforcement check on yours truly by the Sheriff, as the DOC is under him and they have to defer to him for such an exception. I think I’m the most checked priest ever.

I must say, everyone at the DOC and the adjunct Sheriff’s Office was entirely and totally kind and helpful to yours truly and I thank them for that.

Perhaps that check was easier and faster than normal since my last massive and entirely absolutely thorough check was spearheaded by the FBI quite recently. I had brought something to the Agency – which preliminaries took some months with various top-level agents – until they then decided to bring the case forward. What that means is that after such preliminaries, and then before they start in on whatever case which looks to have some merit, they do a massive, thorough check on the one bringing the case, you know, because, after all, he could be the guilty party trying to frame someone else, right? So that itself took a number of months. I was told that centers all over the country were involved with the investigation, each specializing in different areas of the law using different methods of investigation. Finally, I was told that I sailed through. So, after even more preliminary questions, they started the case. All I can say is that they are following the case rather closely. :-)

Anyway, the diocese then faxed the DOC a letter of good standing for me to be a volunteer.

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Patriots Day Boston Marathon Bombing: three brief reflections on terrorism

Firstly, in general, the terrorism thing isn’t anomalous. The fallen human spirit is given to such things if not brought into humble thanksgiving for merciful redemption wrought in justice. “Never again!” is a cri de cœur which must be placed in the context that all of us can do the same thing, given the circumstances in life, given whatever state of one’s soul.

Secondly, the Commissioner was right to ask with great cynicism: “What’s a typical terrorist look like?” The elder brother shaved his beard for the event while the younger brother had no beard to speak of, right? Beards are typical of terrorists, right? Sigh.

Thirdly, the Commissioner got it right again in a self-correction, saying that they all passed over considering the elder terrorist who was already on a watch list because they all knew that he was a coward. Here’s the deal: all terrorists are cowards, they always and only go after soft targets, babies, children, unsuspecting and unprepared adults.

On this last point… if you want to profile a terrorist, look for the coward, for the one who goes along with peer pressure, political correctness, never standing up for what is right even when under no pressure at all, always taking the path of the lowest common denominator of niceness in his own eyes. The raging bull underneath is always there in all the niceness that can be mustered.

From Psalm 22, cited by Jesus on the cross, when all hell of cowardice broke out on Calvary:

My God, my God, why have you abandoned me? Why so far from my call for help, from my cries of anguish? My God, I call by day, but you do not answer; by night, but I have no relief. Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One; you are the glory of Israel. In you our ancestors trusted; they trusted and you rescued them. To you they cried out and they escaped; in you they trusted and were not disappointed. But I am a worm, hardly human, scorned by everyone, despised by the people. All who see me mock me; they curl their lips and jeer; they shake their heads at me: “You relied on the LORD — let him deliver you; if he loves you, let him rescue you.” Yet you drew me forth from the womb, made me safe at my mother’s breast. Upon you I was thrust from the womb; since birth you are my God. Do not stay far from me, for trouble is near, and there is no one to help. Many bulls surround me; fierce bulls of Bashan encircle me….

It’s most worthwhile – unto eternity – to look up and read the rest of that psalm in a quiet moment, noting the filial devotion of the one being put to death before God the Father.

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Analyzing Strzok’s capacity to lie. The deadpan declaration: “I am America.”

Analysts love declarations. There are certain declarations that are stand-alone, and which simply cannot be voiced unless you mean them in any and all contexts or regardless of any particular context whatsoever. They reveal a helluvalot about a person.

Here’s Peter Strzok declaring away to Tray Gowdy at 5’38″…

“The American electorate I respect in their decisions and their right to vote is absolutely a cornerstone of our democracy so at no time did I insult or call into question the judgment or the power of the American electorate.”

And he later repeats a version of that. It’s ingrained into him.

It’s all in the “so.” The “so” inescapably indicates that Peter Strzok believes that he, personally, is America. But this is not the Patriotism of which he thinks he is the definition. Instead, this is, for him, about his inability to do wrong. This, my friends, is as cynical as it gets. It’s a licence to kill. It’s a licence to betray one’s country as doing so could not possibly be considered betrayal by him: he IS America.

There are plenty of false patriots who say: “I love America and I’m the most patriotic person ever and I embody all that America is.” No. That doesn’t work.

It needs to be added instantaneously that there is an ever present possibility that we can fall short, we are able to betray. It is this honesty and humility which keeps one sharp, frosty, and, indeed, able to see ever so easily how it is that this or that person is at the verge of or has already betrayed America and is a danger.

Anyone who embodies the “so” principle of Peter Strzok cannot be trusted.

Do the analogy. The person who, in the spiritual life says to himself that he is doing just fine and is strong because he hasn’t killed anyone in a long time or ever and that makes him all good is a fraud. The person who by the grace of God is in humble thanksgiving before the Lord gets it, knowing that he could fall at any time into whatever lack. Holiness is about the Lord creating us as His friends: “I call you friends.” The trust is not in ourselves but in Jesus. Jesus I trust in you.

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Peter Strzok and lover Lisa Page compromising national security

The great Catherine Herridge reports that Strzok-Page texts suggest using post-election briefing to gather information on Trump team.

To be specific, as she reports, this is nine days after the presidential election, FBI agent Peter Strzok and FBI lawyer Lisa Page exchanged texts about “using briefings to the Trump team after the 2016 election to identify people they could “develop for potential relationships,” track lines of questioning and “assess” changes in “demeanor” – language one GOP lawmaker called ‘more evidence’ of irregular conduct in the original Russia probe.”

“Irregular conduct”? This is not just about spying on the new Trump administration. These briefings were informational national security sessions which either lay foundations for the incoming administration to prepare responses entrusted to them by the voting public or are routine but just as important as informational sessions on national security matters. If that very information is skewed by way of counterintelligence trickery of exaggeration or lack or with fishing by way of adding names or places or circumstances or pressures, as is the impossibly inescapable modus operandi of someone like Peter Strzok who spent his entire life doing this kind of thing, well, in that case, our national security has been compromised since the very beginning. Those informational briefings necessarily must be entirely trustworthy. But clearly they are not. This is playing not just with these USA, but with geopolitical viability. This is not just giving aid and comfort to the enemy, it actually points to Strzok being — what?

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“The Fall Guy” “Insurance Policy”

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I am so very stupid, so very naive. When I was a teenager, I thought that “The Fall Guy” for whatever important op is to be someone who lays down his life for his friends, for his country, often with an untold story, but prepared to be smashed down by being asked to do it or by way of volunteering to do this. In a way, “The Fall Guy” is to seen everywhere in service roles such as Law Enforcement and the Military. I’m proud of my dad’s service, a USMC Commander of the Fighter-Attack Checkerboard Corsair Squadron; here are some of his medals, not including the international medals from various countries, et alii. That’s the Purple Heart, third one over (they’re laid out in proper military order, two each of each medal to the left of the Purple Heart):

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Anyway, and more specifically, the reason having “The Fall Guy” as part of an op is that there are certain ops that can’t be easily understood by the public at large. So, put the blame for what might be considered as that which has a fine line to it on just one guy, a scapegoat. Great!

Sometimes “The Fall Guy” was always expected and well known. Since being a youngster, I looked at Jesus as “The Fall Guy” for us. After all, God so loved the world that He sent His only Son to do just that. Jesus knew. So did His good mom, who caught Him:

pieta

Then, July of 1987 came around. I was already ordained a deacon and had spent some outrageous time throughout Nicaragua a couple of years before. I had plenty of experiences in the “war zone” so as to be able to understand what would be put on stage the Summer of 1987 for the whole world with the Iran-Contra “Affair”. During my free time of that Summer I had been cleaning up the parish cemetery with my little tape-recorder and ear phones playing talks of Archbishop Fulton Sheen while I worked. I was distracted, and ended up with a case of poison ivy so fierce that the skin came off both hands. I sat in the rectory kitchen with my hands soaking in a special solution for two full weeks. During that time I watched every minute of C-SPAN’s total coverage of the Congressional grilling of Lieut. Col. Oliver North, who, by the way, I thought was entirely hilarious: “Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa!” The New York Times, confirming everything I thought about “The Fall Guy” for any op – (that they know and agree to being “The Fall Guy” beforehand) – reported this:

IRAN-CONTRA HEARINGS; Casey Had ‘Fall Guy’ Plan As Early as ’84, North Says
By FOX BUTTERFIELD and SPECIAL TO THE NEW YORK TIMES JULY 14, 1987

“Lieut. Col. Oliver L. North said today that the plan to make him the ”fall guy” for the Iran-contra operations was first suggested by William J. Casey as early as 1984 when the White House began its secret support for the Nicaraguan rebels.

“Colonel North had previously emphasized conversations he said he had with Mr. Casey last fall – as the Administration’s secret arms sales to Iran and the resupply program for the contras began to become public – about making the colonel the scapegoat. Mr. Casey, who resigned as Director of Central Intelligence in February, died in May.” [just before he himself was to testify to the Senate…]

The point I’m trying to make is that “The Fall Guy” knows beforehand that he’s going to be “The Fall Guy.” Everyone else for decades had the same idea as me. Thus, staying in the theme of arms transfers, the film “Lord of War” offers another version of this in 2005:

Notice that “The Fall Guy” is always an agreed to part of whatever op by anyone’s estimation. Except that that’s not true. Sometimes there are those who are “The Fall Guy” without knowing it. They are there, you know, just in case things go South. They are outside of a program, know nothing about it, and yet are continuously groomed for taking the blame as time goes by.

“The Fall Guy” who is unwitting has to be protected, to make sure he’s always around to take the heat. “The Fall Guy” who is unwitting has to be baited into experiences that will make him look like the actual Asset in every way, with the same travels, with the same experiences, with at least some of the same over-the-top skill sets, languages, contacts, indeed, especially with other Assets, making “The Fall Guy” look like he could be an Asset himself. It’s precisely that which makes him ready to be “The Fall Guy” at any time.

In my travels often hundreds of miles every week bringing me into the seven-state region near enough to Western North Carolina, I was speaking to a top military guy about “The Fall Guy” thing. He admitted that, yes, in fact, it has happened, does happen and will happen that there can be “The Fall Guy” for whatever op, even with “The Fall Guy” being someone who does not know about whatever program and is in no way to be connected with whatever program.

For instance, if a CIA Asset is being compromised, “The Fall Guy” is used to take the heat off the all important Asset, so that said Asset can continue doing what he needs to do. If the Asset is going to end up going to prison, it’s instead “The Fall Guy” who goes to prison.

Recently, CCS (Counterintel for Consular Services) at Main State (Department of State) had me call DSCC (Diplomatic Security Command Center). It was made crystal clear that […] ///

/// […] When “The Guy” of Black Sites fame at another time and place told me that there are always but always insurance policies for every single program so that there is no program without an insurance policy, I didn’t know what he meant. I asked him about that, a lot, over years. I never understood, just thinking it was an extortion type thing: “You do this or else.” But, no. Not that. And it’s not a Strzokian type of “Insurance Policy.” No, no. The Insurance Policy he was talking about is “The Fall Guy,” whether that guy knows it or not. He’s the scapegoat, the one to blame. /// […]

/// […] The question is, what if “The Fall Guy,” as unwitting as he is for so long, figures out that he is “The Fall Guy”?

The best way to take care of the problem is to make “The Fall Guy” a target, say, by spreading it around that he is, say, for instance, a CIA Asset himself. That’s easy to do since, with all the grooming, all the baiting, all the false friendships, “The Fall Guy” will indeed have contacts highly influential in various countries and troubled regions around the world. In researching rumors about “The Fall Guy”, various groups may well think that “The Fall Guy” is, instead, the Asset. And then they’ll take care of the problem that “The Fall Guy” now knows too much. How very convenient. Mind you, “The Fall Guy” who was up to this point unwitting has had no real training, has gained no real over-the-top skill sets that he can use to avoid trouble, that he can use to protect himself. It’s kind of like being put on the front lines like David did to Uriah the Hittite, and then having his fellow soldiers withdraw leaving Uriah quite alone against the enemy so that he is then cut down. Easy peasy.

This, of course, underlines the fact that especially “The Fall Guy” who was unwitting up to this point is the most unimportant, most expendable non-person in the world. He has no chance to prepare for a good death. It’s all very dark, very ugly, the most cowardly side of these USA.

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Intelligence Identities Protection Act 1982 PubL 97–200 50 USC §§ 421–426

The Intelligence Identities Protection Act of 1982 (Pub.L. 97–200, 50 U.S.C. §§ 421–426) makes it a Federal crime – enforced with a penalty of a fine or up to three years in prison or both regarding anyone with or without whatever security clearance and access / need to know – to compromise directly or by patterned indications an asset / agent in extremely broadly defined circumstances (as assessed by courts in view of the bias of relevant agencies), regardless as to whether the scope of such a law compromises the Constitution and Constitutional rights of citizens in good standing, including their right to protect the viability of their very lives. Intent doesn’t matter.

Questions:

  • When does justice and equity – the spirit of the law – begin to assert that “rogue” assets / agents are not allowed to destroy citizens in good standing at will, you know, just to protect their own salaries, stipends, perks, retirement packages, or even to protect  agencies from embarrassment about programs that gravely compromise necessary geopolitical allies?
  • When criticism of a program isn’t enough to stop the treasonous-esque behavior of “rogue” individuals, will the outing of whatever “rogue” agent / asset be allowed?

In this law, the answer to both questions is never.

I take that back. In the very law, it’s just fine for agencies to provide a pattern by which their agents / assets are indicated, especially in a quiet manner, in a counterintel fashion, especially if this is done with those who will thus be baited in turn into providing a pattern by which such agents / assets are indicated in a more general manner, with such citizens thus being manipulated into contravening this law and thus making them liable to being conveniently remanded to prison for years at a time, thus protecting the same agents / assets.

Interesting year, that: 1982. Very interesting.

Sometimes justice and equity, love of God and love of neighbor, push citizens in good standing to do the necessary at whatever cost to themselves. It’s not all about money and sex and power for all people everywhere all the time. No.

Indeed, there are those who, when cornered, when up against a wall, and wanting to do the right thing, simply do what’s necessary to find a solution, as in the video above, in which I rejoice. That video is very short, and well worth the watch. You’ll get the point.

The more cynical among us should understand that the cynical use of a law meant to thwart seemingly treasonous activities can itself amount to treason, with penalties much greater than some fine or even three years in prison. A word to the wise.

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