Tag Archives: Law enforcement

Biden’s *Domestic* War on Terror and Dem racist baiting of this blog

“Criminalizing oppositional ideology…” “Deprogramming…” NOT the America in which I grew up.

When “oppositional ideology” is Sacred Scripture, Natural Law, the Ten Commandments, we’re all dead. I’ve been in some 26 countries, some of them Marxist. I’ve seen this before. People tortured. Imprisoned. Killed. All because of simply not subscribing to atheistic dialectical materialism.

When those who have power prioritize destruction of conscience by way of the imposition of abortion, abortifacients, infanticide, euthanasia, the imprisonment of political prisoners, the outlawing of the free exercise of religion… then we’re all dead. People with no conscience are easily controlled. This is social engineering that looks upon you as a useful cog in the machine, until you’re not. Then you’re taken out.

But who is the “domestic terrorist”? Is it a believing Catholic. Yes, now that’s true.

  • C’mon man…. There’s gotta be something more to confirm that someone is a domestic terrorist.

Enter George W******* from Blacksburg, Virginia, who dropped a comment on the recent post of this blog that re-published President Trumps proclamation that 22 January is to be National Pro-Life Day. That comment promoted “***”, a social media platform which is extremely heavily criticized as being a pro-domestic-terrorist site. In other words, if I approve that comment, then I agree with domestic terrorism.

Well, George W******* knows full well that I have written at length against true racism and against any form of terrorism a multitude of times. George W******* is simply a Biden operative getting those who disagree civilly with Biden’s atheistic anti-Catholic policies to look like they are domestic terrorists. After all, if someone disagrees and belongs to that social media platform, that surely counts as a conviction of domestic terrorism, making that person identifiable as an ISIS operative who instead is simply upholding a Constitutional Republic that promotes God-given unalienable rights with the Rule of Law. And that makes me and about 300,000,000 million Americans targets of extrajudicial execution.

Ex-CIA Director and Islamicist John Brennan likened, say, Libertarians, to “religious extremists, authoritarians, fascists, bigots, racists, [and] nativists”. He’s the darling of the Dems. Worse than Libertarians are, of course, Republicans, or even worse, “Independent”, because, you know… why are they hiding?

  • When the government is entirely paranoid of its own population, that government is no longer for, of and by the people, by definition.
  • The very same people who promote “Defund the Police” insist on having a Police State when they are in power. A Police State is one in which enforcement of the governing party’s policies is the only policy of those enforcing enforcement.

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Filed under Free exercise of religion, Law enforcement, Military, Politics, Racism, Terrorism

Dems Defund the Police = Police State when Dems have *power*

After the Dem staged siege of the Capital Building on 6 January 2021 (I’m referring the pre-planning and execution of plans of BLM Antifa to create havoc, using Trump tourist as lemming pawns), Joey Biden, the fake Catholic, is faking paranoia (I guess), and is saying that the 21,000 National Guard + 5,000 Military in D.C. are a personal threat to him, and that they therefore need to be personally investigated, all of them. Since they’ve all been extremely vetted going into the National Guard and going into the Military, this can only refer to finding out who is a Republican, who supports this nation as a Constitutional Republic with the Rule of Law, who has the integrity and honesty to uphold their oath to God. By the way, the Dems voted God out of the Dem party. Yep.

If Joey the fake Catholic is insulting and humiliating the National Guard and the entire Department of Defense, what do you think his intentions are with Law Enforcement, riding on the wave of BLM hatred of Police because they are Police, riding the wave of Antifa hatred of Police because they are Police.

Here’s the deal: Those who insist that all must Defund the Police when they are out of power are the very same ones who, when they are in power, will that second create a Police State. The same people, in one second. It’s all the same, except that individual police will be let go to be replaced with others who instead take an oath to politicians who will command that anyone holding up God-given unalienable rights will have to have their brains jackbooted into the pavement. Yep.

Paranoid cowards like Joey the fake Catholic instantaneously turn into bullies when they can. Coward and bully are flip sides of the same coin. Defund the Police and a Police State are flip sides of the same coin.

This is what happens in such a Communist State. In Russia, there are massive psych hospitals to do just this:

Good ol’ Katie, as angry as AOC. Let’s time travel back into the Obama-Biden Admin:

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is jackboot.png

“Father George! You’ve lost the plot! You’re all political these days! We don’t recognize you anymore!”

Here’s how it is: If the jackbooted thugs close the churches and persecute religion, will we have Holy Mass, Confessions, Last Rites anymore?

All the unalienable God-given rights go together. Only a Marxist thug and buffoon is going to say that Catholics can’t complain about the persecution of Catholics because that’s political.

Did you know that the March for Life in Washington D.C. has been cancelled? Leadership won’t answer the question as to whether they were pressured from whatever direction.

Let’s review, people voted for the guy who said that the first thing he’s going to do is reopen litigation against the Little Sisters of the Poor to force them to close all of their medical institutions for the elderly and dying because they won’t pay for abortifacients. Wait… What? Yep. And the Dems laugh. Ever here Kamala laugh?

The Little Sisters will be jackbooted onto the street with all the elderly and dying. And your fellow parishioner who voted for Joey the fake Catholic will laugh at you like Kamala laughs. They will mock: “It’s a police state now, you stupid priest! You’re next!” Yep.

What they don’t understand is that in the midst of all this, no real Catholic is phased, afraid, nothing like that. Real Catholics are with Jesus, and encouraged by our Blessed Mother Mary, are protected by their angels, are on their way to heaven. Real Catholics go on like they’ve always done. No compromise. Hello street! Hello homelessness!

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Proof BLM Antifa = Jan 6 Siege. Capitalized by Dems. All staged. Treason. Sedition.

https://www.lifesitenews.com/news/giuliani-releases-footage-of-blm-agitator-giving-riot-training-before-jan-6-capitol-storming

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Capital siege leftist instigator with his extreme violence challenge

Just 45 seconds: 2’00” to 2’45”.

Now that’s some scary stuff…

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Military, LifeSite, Trump on Capital Siege

Absolutely worth watching. What a time we live in? More on that in a future post. Stay tuned.

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Capital Provocateurs: BLM, Antifa

This guy is one of the best of the best. One of ours. Very interesting. What he says is verified by others who were there. A must see, this video.

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I thought I was going to die – Capital Police Officer crushed. He’s great, but…

Very credible officer. And it is always the case that even a majority of any group in these USA are great people. Yes. And, yes, I’m still an ICPC law enforcement chaplain. Why wouldn’t I be? These are confusing times, in which we could move from “Defund the police!” to a Police State in the blink of an eye, which makes police chaplaincy all the more necessary, with the chaplain hopefully pushing for Natural Law, unalienable God-given rights, a Constitutional Republic with the Rule of Law consistent with the Constitution, with Natural Law, with unalienable God-given rights. There are duties which go with rights, right?

Having said that, demographically speaking, there are bad eggs who are able to work their way into, trick their way into, test their way right into any group, right through, say, any seminary vetting program, right through any sussing out of criminals by, say, FBI, CIA et alii induction courses.

Here’s the deal: I can’t get over the fact that there were some Capital Police who were joyfully ushering people onto the Capital campus. They had to know that someone was going to get shot, right? So, what’s the deal with all that?

This politically incorrect factoid was so incredibly obvious the second it happened that high level investigations were instantaneously begun. Great! Of course, investigations can be done just to say that you’ve done them and it’s all good. Investigations can be done by the very people who were in on it from the beginning. So…

… … … erase erase erase … … … GoDaddy, which assigns domains for WordPress, has jumped on the bandwagon of censorship, taking down entire sites without warning. So, I’m trying to walk the fine line of saying something without getting booted off the internet altogether. As it is, I’m seeing a big uptick in blog visits from Automattic, the WordPress platform provider. Are they enjoying the blog or checking out complaints that say I’m not politically correct?

If domain providers are into censorship, what’s next? Is some guy at the local utilities company going to attempt to cut you off the grid because he wants to censor free speech by shutting down your electricity that powers computers and charge phones? That’s not very effective, but this is where we are at methinks.

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Filed under Free exercise of religion, Law enforcement, Officer Down!

SHTF by 17-18 January? What I’m told.

This is just one of many of those purposed “leaks” ever so useful when the SHTF as it does in all societies from time to time in all epochs since the beginning to the end. The “leaks” in this case are coming from all over these USA from wildly different sources, including serious mega-corporations essential for national security.

This could be a ruse as now even multiple national-security sourcing events are often just that, a ruse for the naive. The worst case scenario is that such a ruse (almost impossible to pull off) is to find out who’s connected to who. It could be the ol’ say something absolutely false and then see who ends up reporting it. But I don’t get that vibe here. This is from a good friend who has, how to say, a stellar military-intel career of decades, who, um, knows people, not only individuals, but he’s also great at intel tactics. He’s a most devout Catholic. The upshot is that you need some provisions of popcorn, etc, for a week, and lots of batteries for your radio, and your rosary in your hand, maybe bread and milk and tuna and bananas! Make sure you have your phone charged up for emergency broadcasts. Get some situational awareness about yourself. Ask your guardian angel to enlighten you. Get your soul in order… now.

  • Fr. George, I got some more leads, that most […Intel and Military communities…] say it is going to happen Sunday or Monday. Yes a martial law lock down. All communications will be under the control of the government and the only broadcast will be 3 hours a day for a week [… I’m leaving out lots of activity that will be going on, for safety’s sake…] This is so over the top unimaginable in the US, but I can buy into the lot of it. The logistics are going to be total chaos, moderately controlled by our military. Even if the forces are partially deployed so as to [… I’m leaving out lots of activity that will be going on, for safety’s sake…] it will take 24 to 48 hours to truly stand up a system of check points and control. As I have said, I truly believe something is going to happen, it will be ugly and I am prepared. I believe in our Blessed Mother and pray for peace.

This guy is not naive. He’s seen a hell of a lot in his life. He’s not so stupid as to think it can’t happen here. He is not an ostrich. So… take it or leave it. But pray anyway. We live in rather exciting times. And get popcorn for the three hours a day. And have your rosary at hand.

I asked him if I could put this up on the blog, which only a few devout Catholics see, besides many of, dare I say, the more devout in the intel and military community. Yes, he said. It’s good to go.

My first thought was, like, I should get more food for Shadow-dog and Laudie-dog. Now they have plenty.

Let’s see, what else do I need? I’ve been to Confession like twice in the past week and some. I know… Batteries! I don’t need a bug-out bag because I’m where people run toward! This is the best parish in the world. I’ll stock up some altar breads and altar wine for Mass in the Rectory if travel even to church would be verboten. I think that’s it. I’m not high maintenance. I got me a rosary!

Honestly, if this is what I think it is, I rejoice. I laugh out loud. HAH! Well, we shall see. Nothing is as it seems. But this may be better than it seems. Much better.

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CIA DDI Capital siege open gray source gray man gray zone graywater® humor

After some surely humorous intrigue DNI-OSC was renamed CIA-DDI, but continued working out of a campus in Reston. They are the best of the best at dumpster diving (Hey! I can relate!) in the trashy garbage of open source gray literature of what occasionally might turn out to be gray zone warfare (somewhat diversely from DARPA COMPASS). At least I’m the epitome of what a gray man is not, making me, irony of ironies, the ultimate gray man in a world of counterintel vortices sucking the overconfident into an inextricable maelstrom of graywater®. Did I just say that? ;-)

G.K. Chesterton’s Father Brown stories are helpful to extract oneself, particularly The Secret of Father Brown:

https://ariseletusbegoing.com/2021/01/15/je-suis-le-capital-siege-or-the-secret-of-father-brown-yours-truly-bad-and-evil/

IPs and named servers are easily spoofed, but that would be even stranger than a real visit. So, going along with the game, lets say that this is DDI spending human time on this blog in a time of crisis. First of all, no one in the intel world runs a named server allowing anyone to see the name, and even the the posts visited, and the actual time spent… unless they want you to see that info. And that would be the humorous part. I’m nobody. But, that’s the point. Hah!

What they were looking at was, of course, the blogpost at the top of the blog at that time, which pointed to images/video of Capital Police actively ushering crowds inside the Capital Building with the higher ups knowing absolutely that those protecting the Vice President and voting members of Congress – just outside those interior doors – would certainly shoot those violently breaking in. And Ashli did die.

The National Guard was there, but six requests for their help were turned down. When massive crowds come, you don’t insist on having the a normal day’s number of officers; insisting that upped numbers of officers do not show up is called standing them down. Refusing the Park Police’s offer of assistance is equivalent of standing them down.

And that begs questions about Democrats rushing votes on the 25th amendment and impeachment before we know what happened, almost as if they wanted to cover up their own involvement in a scenario making for staged bad-optics for Trump. More on that in a future post if we’re still up. Meanwhile, let’s review Kryptos, since this is the CIA, after all!

https://ariseletusbegoing.com/2016/01/29/solving-kryptos-part-4-coriolis-effect-crux-stat-dum-volvitur-orbis/

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“Je suis le Capital Siege” or “The Secret of Father Brown” Yours truly, bad and evil.

CHESTERTON FATHER BROWN

The only way to be able to direct souls to the Living Truth is to be humble enough to admit that one could be capable of that which is most bad and evil, for only in that way are we open to Him who saves us from ourselves. Make no mistake: this is not about “thinking like a criminal”, this is about being the very criminal in potentia, as in: “There but for the grace of God go I”, quite literally. This is The Secret of Father Brown, of G.K. Chesterton fame. It’s well worth the read, as are all things Chesterton. A little humility goes a long way. This is one chapter in the volume with the same title. If I were a chaplain to the CIA, this is what I would present to them with some examples. Very tightly scripted:

FLAMBEAU, once the most famous criminal in France and later a very private detective in England, had long retired from both professions. Some say a career of crime had left him with too many scruples for a career of detection. Anyhow, after a life of romantic escapes and tricks of evasion, he had ended at what some might consider an appropriate address: in a castle in Spain. The castle, however, was solid though relatively small; and the black vineyard and green stripes of kitchen garden covered a respectable square on the brown hillside. For Flambeau, after all his violent adventures, still possessed what is possessed by so many Latins, what is absent (for instance) in so many Americans, the energy to retire. It can be seen in many a large hotel-proprietor whose one ambition is to be a small peasant. It can be seen in many a French provincial shopkeeper, who pauses at the moment when he might develop into a detestable millionaire and buy a street of shops, to fall back quietly and comfortably on domesticity and dominoes. Flambeau had casually and almost abruptly fallen in love with a Spanish Lady, married and brought up a large family on a Spanish estate, without displaying any apparent desire to stray again beyond its borders. But on one particular morning he was observed by his family to be unusually restless and excited; and he outran the little boys and descended the greater part of the long mountain slope to meet the visitor who was coming across the valley; even when the visitor was still a black dot in the distance.

The black dot gradually increased in size without very much altering in the shape; for it continued, roughly speaking, to be both round and black. The black clothes of clerics were not unknown upon those hills; but these clothes, however clerical, had about them something at once commonplace and yet almost jaunty in comparison with the cassock or soutane, and marked the wearer as a man from the northwestern islands, as clearly as if he had been labelled Clapham Junction. He carried a short thick umbrella with a knob like a club, at the sight of which his Latin friend almost shed tears of sentiment; for it had figured in many adventures that they shared long ago. For this was the Frenchman’s English friend, Father Brown, paying a long-desired but long-delayed visit. They had corresponded constantly, but they had not met for years.

Father Brown was soon established in the family circle, which was quite large enough to give the general sense of company or a community. He was introduced to the big wooden images of the Three Kings, of painted and gilded wood, who bring the gifts to the children at Christmas; for Spain is a country where the affairs of the children bulk large in the life of the home. He was introduced to the dog and the cat and the live-stock on the farm. But he was also, as it happened, introduced to one neighbour who, like himself, had brought into that valley the garb and manners of distant lands.

It was on the third night of the priest’s stay at the little chateau that he beheld a stately stranger who paid his respects to the Spanish household with bows that no Spanish grandee could emulate. He was a tall, thin grey-haired and very handsome gentleman, and his hands, cuffs and cuff-links had something overpowering in their polish. But his long face had nothing of that languor which is associated with long cuffs and manicuring in the caricatures of our own country. It was rather arrestingly alert and keen; and the eyes had an innocent intensity of inquiry that does not go often with grey hairs. That alone might have marked the man’s nationality, as well the nasal note in his refined voice and his rather too ready assumption of the vast antiquity of all the European things around him. This was, indeed, no less a person than Mr. Grandison Chace, of Boston, an American traveller who had halted for a time in his American travels by taking a lease of the adjoining estate; a somewhat similar castle on a somewhat similar hill. He delighted in his old castle, and he regarded his friendly neighbour as a local antiquity of the same type. For Flambeau managed, as we have said, really to look retired in the sense of rooted. He might have grown there with his own vine and fig-tree for ages. He had resumed his real family name of Duroc; for the other title of “The Torch” had only been a title de guerre, like that under which such a man will often wage war on society. He was fond of his wife and family; he never went farther afield than was needed for a little shooting; and he seemed, to the American globe-trotter, the embodiment of that cult of a sunny respectability and a temperate luxury, which the American was wise enough to see and admire in the Mediterranean peoples. The rolling stone from the West was glad to rest for a moment on this rock in the South that had gathered so very much moss. But Mr. Chace had heard of Father Brown, and his tone faintly changed, as towards a celebrity. The interviewing instinct awoke, tactful but tense. If he did try to draw Father Brown, as if he were a tooth, it was done with the most dexterous and painless American dentistry.

They were sitting in a sort of partly unroofed outer court of the house, such as often forms the entrance to Spanish houses. It was dusk turning to dark; and as all that mountain air sharpens suddenly after sunset, a small stove stood on the flagstones, glowing with red eyes like a goblin, and painting a red pattern on the pavement; but scarcely a ray of it reached the lower bricks of the great bare, brown brick wall that went soaring up above them into the deep blue night. Flambeau’s big broad-shouldered figure and great moustaches, like sabres, could be traced dimly in the twilight, as he moved about, drawing dark wine from a great cask and handing it round. In his shadow, the priest looked very shrunken and small, as if huddled over the stove; but the American visitor leaned forward elegantly with his elbow on his knee and his fine pointed features in the full light; his eyes shone with inquisitive intelligence.

“I can assure you, sir,” he was saying, “we consider your achievement in the matter of the Moonshine Murder the most remarkable triumph in the history of detective science.”

Father Brown murmured something; some might have imagined that the murmur was a little like a moan.

“We are well acquainted,” went on the stranger firmly, “with the alleged achievements of Dupin and others; and with those of Lecoq, Sherlock Holmes, Nicholas Carter, and other imaginative incarnations of the craft. But we observe there is in many ways, a marked difference between your own method of approach and that of these other thinkers, whether fictitious or actual. Some have spec’lated, sir, as to whether the difference of method may perhaps involve rather the absence of method.”

Father Brown was silent; then he started a little, almost as if he had been nodding over the stove, and said: “I beg your pardon. Yes. . .. Absence of method. . . . Absence of mind, too, I’m afraid.”

“I should say of strictly tabulated scientific method,” went on the inquirer. “Edgar Poe throws off several little essays in a conversational form, explaining Dupin’s method, with its fine links of logic. Dr. Watson had to listen to some pretty exact expositions of Holmes’s method with its observation of material details. But nobody seems to have got on to any full account of your method, Father Brown, and I was informed you declined the offer to give a series of lectures in the States on the matter.”

“Yes,” said the priest, frowning at the stove; “I declined.”

“Your refusal gave rise to a remarkable lot of interesting talk,” remarked Chace. “I may say that some of our people are saying your science can’t be expounded, because it’s something more than just natural science. They say your secret’s not to be divulged, as being occult in its character.”

“Being what?” asked Father Brown, rather sharply.

“Why, kind of esoteric,” replied the other. “I can tell you, people got considerably worked up about Gallup’s murder, and Stein’s murder, and then old man Merton’s murder, and now Judge Gwynne’s murder, and a double murder by Dalmon, who was well known in the States. And there were you, on the spot every time, slap in the middle of it; telling everybody how it was done and never telling anybody how you knew. So some people got to think you knew without looking, so to speak. And Carlotta Brownson gave a lecture on Thought-Forms with illustrations from these cases of yours. The Second Sight Sisterhood of Indianapolis —— ”

Father Brown, was still staring at the stove; then he said quite loud yet as if hardly aware that anyone heard him: “Oh, I say. This will never do.”

“I don’t exactly know how it’s to be helped,” said Mr. Chace humorously. “The Second Sight Sisterhood want a lot of holding down. The only way I can think of stopping it is for you to tell us the secret after all.”

Father Brown groaned. He put his head on his hands and remained a moment, as if full of a silent convulsion of thought. Then he lifted his head and said in a dull voice:

“Very well. I must tell the secret.”

His eyes rolled darkly over the whole darkling scene, from the red eyes of the little stove to the stark expanse of the ancient wall, over which were standing out, more and more brightly, the strong stars of the south.

“The secret is,” he said; and then stopped as if unable to go on. Then he began again and said:

“You see, it was I who killed all those people.”

“What?” repeated the other, in a small voice out of a vast silence.

“You see, I had murdered them all myself,” explained Father Brown patiently. “So, of course, I knew how it was done.”

Grandison Chace had risen to his great height like a man lifted to the ceiling by a sort of slow explosion. Staring down at the other he repeated his incredulous question.

“I had planned out each of the crimes very carefully,” went on Father Brown, “I had thought out exactly how a thing like that could be done, and in what style or state of mind a man could really do it. And when I was quite sure that I felt exactly like the murderer myself, of course I knew who he was.”

Chace gradually released a sort of broken sigh.

“You frightened me all right,” he said. “For the minute I really did think you meant you were the murderer. Just for the minute I kind of saw it splashed over all the papers in the States: ‘Saintly Sleuth Exposed as Killer: Hundred Crimes of Father Brown.’ Why, of course, if it’s just a figure of speech and means you tried to reconstruct the psychogy — ”

Father Brown rapped sharply on the stove with the short pipe he was about to fill; one of his very rare spasms of annoyance contracted his face.

“No, no, no,” he said, almost angrily; “I don’t mean just a figure of speech. This is what comes of trying to talk about deep things. . . . What’s the good of words . . .? If you try to talk about a truth that’s merely moral, people always think it’s merely metaphorical. A real live man with two legs once said to me: ‘I only believe in the Holy Ghost in a spiritual sense.’ Naturally, I said: ‘In what other sense could you believe it?’ And then he thought I meant he needn’t believe in anything except evolution, or ethical fellowship, or some bilge. . . . I mean that I really did see myself, and my real self, committing the murders. I didn’t actually kill the men by material means; but that’s not the point. Any brick or bit of machinery might have killed them by material means. I mean that I thought and thought about how a man might come to be like that, until I realized that I really was like that, in everything except actual final consent to the action. It was once suggested to me by a friend of mine, as a sort of religious exercise. I believe he got it from Pope Leo XIII, who was always rather a hero of mine.”

“I’m afraid,” said the American, in tones that were still doubtful, and keeping his eye on the priest rather as if he were a wild animal, “that you’d have to explain a lot to me before I knew what you were talking about. The science of detection —— ”

Father Brown snapped his fingers with the same animated annoyance. “That’s it,” he cried; “that’s just where we part company. Science is a grand thing when you can get it; in its real sense one of the grandest words in the world. But what do these men mean, nine times out of ten, when they use it nowadays? When they say detection is a science? When they say criminology is a science? They mean getting outside a man and studying him as if he were a gigantic insect: in what they would call a dry impartial light, in what I should call a dead and dehumanized light. They mean getting a long way off him, as if he were a distant prehistoric monster; staring at the shape of his ‘criminal skull’ as if it were a sort of eerie growth, like the horn on a rhinoceros’s nose. When the scientist talks about a type, he never means himself, but always his neighbour; probably his poorer neighbour. I don’t deny the dry light may sometimes do good; though in one sense it’s the very reverse of science. So far from being knowledge, it’s actually suppression of what we know. It’s treating a friend as a stranger, and pretending that something familiar is really remote and mysterious. It’s like saying that a man has a proboscis between the eyes, or that he falls down in a fit of insensibility once every twenty-four hours. Well, what you call ‘the secret’ is exactly the opposite. I don’t try to get outside the man. I try to get inside the murderer . . . . Indeed it’s much more than that, don’t you see? I am inside a man. I am always inside a man, moving his arms and legs; but I wait till I know I am inside a murderer, thinking his thoughts, wrestling with his passions; till I have bent myself into the posture of his hunched and peering hatred; till I see the world with his bloodshot and squinting eyes, looking between the blinkers of his half-witted concentration; looking up the short and sharp perspective of a straight road to a pool of blood. Till I am really a murderer.”

“Oh,” said Mr. Chace, regarding him with a long, grim face, and added: “And that is what you call a religious exercise.”

“Yes,” said Father Brown; “that is what I call a religious exercise.”

After an instant’s silence he resumed: “It’s so real a religious exercise that I’d rather not have said anything about it. But I simply couldn’t have you going off and telling all your countrymen that I had a secret magic connected with Thought-Forms, could I? I’ve put it badly, but it’s true. No man’s really any good till he knows how bad he is, or might be; till he’s realized exactly how much right he has to all this snobbery, and sneering, and talking about ‘criminals,’ as if they were apes in a forest ten thousand miles away; till he’s got rid of all the dirty self-deception of talking about low types and deficient skulls; till he’s squeezed out of his soul the last drop of the oil of the Pharisees; till his only hope is somehow or other to have captured one criminal, and kept him safe and sane under his own hat.”

Flambeau came forward and filled a great goblet with Spanish wine and set it before his friend, as he had already set one before his fellow guest. Then he himself spoke for the first time:

“I believe Father Brown has had a new batch of mysteries. We were talking about them the other day, I fancy. He has been dealing with some queer people since we last met.”

“Yes; I know the stories more or less — but not the application,” said Chace, lifting his glass thoughtfully. “Can you give me any examples, I wonder. . . . I mean, did you deal with this last batch in that introspective style?”

Father Brown also lifted his glass, and the glow of the fire turned the red wine transparent, like the glorious blood-red glass of a martyr’s window. The red flame seemed to hold his eyes and absorb his gaze that sank deeper and deeper into it, as if that single cup held a red sea of the blood of all men, and his soul were a diver, ever plunging in dark humility and inverted imagination, lower than its lowest monsters and its most ancient slime. In that cup, as in a red mirror, he saw many things; the doings of his last days moved in crimson shadows; the examples that his companions demanded danced in symbolic shapes; and there passed before him all the stories that are told here. Now, the luminous wine was like a vast red sunset upon dark red sands, where stood dark figures of men; one was fallen and another running towards him. Then the sunset seemed to break up into patches: red lanterns swinging from garden trees and a pond gleaming red with reflection; and then all the colour seemed to cluster again into a great rose of red crystal, a jewel that irradiated the world like a red sun, save for the shadow of a tall figure with a high head-dress as of some prehistoric priest; and then faded again till nothing was left but a flame of wild red beard blowing in the wind upon a wild grey moor. All these things, which may be seen later from other angles and in other moods than his own, rose up in his memory at the challenge and began to form themselves into anecdotes and arguments.

“Yes,” he said, as he raised the wine cup slowly to his lips, “I can remember pretty well —— ”

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Filed under Intelligence Community, Law enforcement, Politics

Bait to shoot? Dems of the siege?

The last line of defense of the Vice President and those voting – an entire branch of government – included the agent who did the head-shot, who could not have been told to stand down, not by the President, not by anyone. He was like the guy with his finger on the nuclear button. No one is going to interfere with those guys. Can’t happen. He just did his job. It was absolutely known he would in fact do his job. And what gave him a target was staged, I’m guessing by the Dems, who are rushing for the 25th or an impeachment before it becomes known what they have done. What a cynical use of law enforcement protecting them. Law enforcement and non-violent Trump tourists were used like pawns. Too bad, that. We all know of what can only be called a purposed lack of personnel on 6 January 2021.

Trump was speaking in the morning and the assault on the Capital Building had already begun. He was going to present his case at 1:00 PM, but mayhem had already started. He never got the chance to march peacefully to the Capital Building so as to simply make a show of concern about the election. He never got the chance. Blame him? No.

I’d like to see the NSA, FBI and DARPA COMPASS barf up what they knew of logistics for 6 January 2021. Yes, I would. They knew pretty much everything, even visiting the perps before the day, telling them not to go, you know, being polite and nice. SMH.

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Nashville bomber: 5G paranoia. Déjà vu experience, coincidence I’m sure.

Motive: the not-to-be-named-guy hated police?

Apparently a while back this guy made an offhand comment that all police are corrupt. I’ve heard that comment a lot while hanging with the town police and deputies of various counties as a LEO chaplain in recent years (ICPC). That all police are corrupt is a generalization anyone might be tempted to make when being upset at, say, a traffic stop. It happens all the time. It’s like someone exasperated with politicians saying that all politicians are corrupt. Ever here that? The LEOs I know brush that off like a flake of dandruff. No big deal.

I just can’t see that what the Nashville bomber guy was doing in hurting AT&T’s computer junk building had anything to do with baiting law enforcement to get killed. This isn’t like an IED set off at a police recruiting station in Bagdad killing dozens of candidates standing in line and injuring even more, or like an IED set off in a crowded Bagdad market killing dozens, injuring hundreds, then a pause of two minutes, and then another IED going off to kill or injure all the good Samaritans who rush to aid those who have been hurt by the first IED, an evil but common, well known practice. With the Nashville AT&T bomber guy, everything was done to get attention of locals so that they might hear the warnings and get away. The warnings were extremely clear, also for any police rushing to make an intervention. So, I don’t buy into any motive of his hating police as being central to any motive. To do that would be to push actual police-hating groups to do the same thing, jacking up the stakes.

Motive: 5G paranoia?

While clearing the area of detonation of anyone who might get hurt is an ETA Basque separatist calling card, what this guy was doing was entirely different, right? Let’s examine what he actually did, which, in his mind, was to attack 5G infrastructure development.

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is wp-16091828139666216620410848005797.png

Did his action interrupt the work of some scattered 911 dispatchers? Sure. Did that mess with Nashville ATC for some hours? Sure. But that’s so random an effect among the scattered circuitry in the hardened AT&T hardware building that it can’t be said that those were individuated targets of an omni-directional, that is, non-directed explosion.

We know the guy was emotionally vulnerable, which means he might also have been open to being manipulated. That’s not to say he was manipulated, but he was apparently convinced that he was going to be a hero for saving his region and the country and the world from a 5G genocide, you know, brought about by 5G “bad stuff in the air”. I’m no psychologist, but it seems to me that this kind of sociopathic savior mentality needs to be suggested, constructed, nurtured by someone in order for it to get traction in the brain. It’s a much different mindset compared to the “lone wolf” terrorist.

Just a guess, a hypothesis… I’m wondering if there was a manipulator in the background. Motivations for a manipulator run a full spectrum all the way to the left (disruption factors dumbing down societal capabilities) and all the way to the right (intel empire building, which was the contention of the great Bill Binney about other events a generation ago). So, that gets complicated, until you have suspects to study, actionable intel. Let’s see now… Oh! I almost forgot!

Déjà vu...

Already back on September 19-20, 2020, the following was presented to me by way of an extremely vulnerable proxy, a loved family member, who was psychologically compromised, manipulated by a relentless “Karen.”

  • “They, the mafia, the international mafia, where you live, in Appalachia, they have pulse machines from international terrorists, pulse machines of wavelengths of bad stuff that can go through cars and houses and into your body and hurt you and make you tired [microwave targeting of embassy offices is a thing, but I’m guessing my rectory is not an embassy office!] and you’re not safe because they are coming to get you [lol: such a cliché] so you have to run really far away so that you feel better and where you’re not in danger from the pulse wavelength machines of the mafia from international terrorists. And you can read about it on – [A few URLs were provided dozens of times. Sorry, I didn’t pay attention to this. I never want to get baited into visiting weird websites] – if you scroll two thirds of the way down [whatever cited article] and read about it there and it’s true and stuff and everything so go away, really far away, because you’re not safe and they are coming to get you, you know, those people who slow down by your house because there’s a speed bump and they look at your garden and tell you how nice it is or ask you what the Mass schedule is now but they are really slowing down and surely pointing international mafia terrorist pulse wavelength machines at you with bad stuff that goes through cars and houses and into your body and can hurt you unless you run away, really far away, and stay away, and you have to leave now because you’re not safe, and whatever you do, don’t get a 5G phone because everyone with a 5G phone coming this October will die because it’s a genocide of all people with 5G phones all around the world and everyone is going to die with 5G phones so don’t get a 5G phone because it’s as bad as the international mafia terrorist pulse wavelength machines with bad stuff and everything…”

Soon, I would need a new phone, as I’m really hard on electronics. I got a 5G phone weeks later, in… wait for it… October! And I’m still alive! :-)

You have to know that the account of that message above is just a paraphrase of much longer diatribe of multiple rants that went on in the midst of a dozen+- communications, for hours and hours, over days. The extreme duress suffered by my loved one, being unwillingly programmed to do this task, being someone whose personality was erased completely until this, my loved one, completed her mission. This did grave damage to my loved one. The manipulator “Karen” is good at what she does. She uses even dozens of throw-away phones, and now, it seems, endless VOIP numbers.

I don’t buy that the “Karen” manipulating my loved one had fallen for some sort of 5G paranoia. I think she wanted to bait me (who knows why?) into getting upset with her manipulating my loved one. It’s extortion. This “Karen” has also said that she would force me into doing something “to get involved.” The message, it seems to me, is that more harm will be inflicted on my loved one if I don’t comply. The cruelty using my loved one is unspeakable. Anyway, I will not comply. That’s not virtue signaling. That’s a lifetime of experience witnessing situations in which integrity was tossed, witnessing that lost integrity is full destruction.

The timing of this days-long-message to me places it on a timeline in which the Nashville bomber guy was already well into his bombmaking cycle, not that there is necessarily any direct connection with this “Karen” and the Nashville bomber guy. But I have to wonder if this “Karen” possibly knew of the Nashville bomber’s activities, one way or the other. And that, of course, would beg a gamut of monstrous possibilities. If this “Karen” is involved, she’s already proven that, for her, there is no line of conscience which she is unwilling to cross. The Nashville bomber guy suicided. That was totally unnecessary for his ends. With just a bit of effort, regardless of cameras etc., he could have escaped. But he’s dead. He can’t speak to manipulators. Look, that’s just something to notice which might be a remote indication that a manipulator was involved. I’m not saying there’s a direct connection of this “Karen” with the Nashville bomber guy, just that I am personally cognizant of someone who could have manipulated him, and therefore, possibly others. As it is, this “Karen” has a highly inflated sense of being able to manipulate anyone, anytime, anywhere, well, until really smart people pop her balloon, one after the other. She definitely has an “I’ll show you” aspect about herself. I can totally see this “Karen” messing with the Nashville bomber guy. I have to wonder if Petula Clark’s Downtown was used by the Nashville bomber guy to smooth over the manipulation I’m guessing he was suffering, or used by him as a kind of thanksgiving to any “Karen” for allowing him to be the hero saving everyone from the genocidal 5G bad stuff.

All too creepy. I guess that’s an appropriate summary to a super-creepy 2020.

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Filed under Intelligence Community, Law enforcement, Terrorism

Adoration vs COVID. Jesus wins.

Even if the one could find some law enforcement officers to drive an MRAP up the steps and through the picture window and over the statue of the Sacred Heart and into the pews of our tiny store-front church up in Robbinsville so as to neutralize the COVID threat of a few members of Jesus’ little flock gathered together to adore the Divine Son of the Living God, the Living Bread of Life (see John 6), what with them being all well spaced ’round the church, I’m guessing that the LEOs, even non-Catholic, would fall to their knees as they saw for themselves, despite all their bluster, that they were being ignored by these ever so peaceful people, all of whom strongly support law enforcement, you know, as these defenseless members of the flock simply continued to adore Jesus, never resisting arrest, but simply ready peacefully to be on their way to heaven. After all, whatever bluster anyone on this earth can put forth, it is Jesus, the Divine Son of the Living God who will come to judge the living and the dead and world by fire. What a way to go, on one’s knees adoring the Living God. Great!

But, you’re right. I’m mocking other parts of these USA where the real police have resigned in disgust of the anti-American powers that be in their Dem localities, but only to be replaced by those who lied when taking their oath to uphold the God-given and unalienable Constitutional First Amendment rites of this Constitutional Republic ever so proud of the Rule of Law. I bet oath taking will be outlawed just as God is outlawed by the Dem party.

As it is, I’m friends with the local county law enforcement as I am signed up as an ICPC (look them up) law enforcement chaplain for that county, with one of my greatest joys during any week being the bible study I have up in the jail. Our great Sheriff, though not Catholic, has been to our church something like eight times over the years. You gotta know, I support our present LEOs. I do wonder, however, if all law enforcement will be outlawed should a stolen POTUS election be effectuated. I tell you what:

Adoration would still continue. I’ve had uncountable officers all around WNC tell me that they would never deprive someone of their Constitutional rights. :-)

But, as I say, conditions change. What’s depicted in the following best ever trailer of For Greater Glory happened still in living memory. Whatever about my promotion of peaceful Adoration of Jesus – by far the most practical thing we can do for the Church and the world – there will always be those who will be Cristeros over against political imprisonment and brutal persecution:

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Marcus Luttrell’s DASY, John Wick’s Daisy, Fr George’s Shadow-dog & Laudie-dog

Marcus is the Lone Survivor Navy SEAL guy, married, with kids, your normal Texan. Back Stateside, provided a service dog, he named the dog after his team: D.A.S.Y. That is:

  • Danny = Daniel Phillip Dietz Jr: Navy Cross, Purple Heart – 25 years old (RIP)
  • Alexson = Matthew Gene “Axe” Axelson: Navy Cross, Purple Heart – 24 years old (RIP) – [Note that one of Marcus’ kids is named Axe, after Matt Axelson. That should tell you something]
  • Southern Boy = Marcus Luttrell: Navy Cross, Purple Heart – Lone Survivor
  • Yankee = Michael Patrick “Murph” Murphy: Medal of Honor, Purple Heart, Silver Star – 24 years old (RIP)

It’s not just that the dog murderers shot DASY. No, no. They also beat DASY’s brains out with a baseball bat. Stats are that anyone who can randomly do that to a dog is also doing that human beings, usually a defenseless partner, usually children, only those who are much weaker than they are, you know, because, as always, guys like these are total cowards. They hit DASY in the middle of the night. In the 911 call played out above we find out that they have also called 911 on themselves so as to be saved from the guy whose dog they murdered. Meanwhile, Marcus, gentleman that he is, had already called 911 so that Law Enforcement and the American justice system would be put into action properly. As Marcus says of himself, he’s no murderer, but rather someone who supports Law Enforcement and the American justice system. That’s why he served in the Military. Yes.

Meanwhile, John Wick’s dog, called Daisy, is an obvious reference to Marcus Luttrell’s DASY, as there are another dozen parallels as to how this film series is all about an alternative ending to the dog-murdering, surely to point out how, instead, Marcus is above the fray of mere vengeance. And that makes Marcus a hero to me, that is, not someone to render hero-worship (that being a sickness), but rather someone whose example I try to follow in my own life.

Meanwhile, my own Shadow-dog and Laudie-dog were both poisoned the other week. They survived, but only because, as I found out later, the perp was interrupted by my good neighbor just before I got home. Continuing to inquire about what the poison could have been, the substance has been narrowed down to that which has a lot more lethality to it than what I originally thought it might be. In this case, as far as the dogs’ owner goes, myself, I’m guessing that the perp knows well that I myself am a relatively easy target, so very much unlike our run of the mill citizen of Texas, the great Marcus Luttrell, and the later fictional John Wick. That I was considered to be an easy target was the opinion of an Army sniper here in town, the one who now owns Jenny the Jeep. We all know how lethal a Navy SEAL can be, but what about John Wick? Take a look at this short analysis of the skills of John Wick and his director at just a 1/4 speed (stunning attention to detail):

Anyway, yours truly, obviously a “weak target”, who’s never pulled a trigger on anyone for any reason, is given over to being at the ready to defend those who are successfully being unjustly aggressed in a deadly manner right in front of me, say, during a mass shooting in my church, but that defense is not comprehensive of Shadow-dog nor Laudie-dog. Sorry for you who are just as much dog-lovers as me. They have many times put themselves on the line for me, but still… Mind you, murdering my dogs right in front of me is going to raise some intensified situational awareness by way of the all focusing adrenaline. I’ll be 360゚at the ready to send off – if need be in unrepeatable circumstances – two to the spinal column and one to the brain box into any number of targets, you know, if I’m fired upon and am actively being hit, set on fire with my lungs being singed, stabbed repeatedly to bleed-out parts of the body, you know the drill. I have done up a bit of scenario drills. The aim, so to speak, would be merely to neutralize not any aggressor(s), but any ultra deadly threat actively being delivered by any aggressor(s). You take out such a threat, not necessarily any aggressor(s) bearing any such threat. Just to be clear. The relatively speaking freakoid record for yours truly which I’ll never repeat again (no target ammo in these USA to keep up the skills…) from a locked holster at a randomly set Competition Electronics’ Pocket Pro II shot timer is – for the two plus one drill – 1.01 seconds. Slow for those mentioned above, of course. And now I’m much, much slower than that.

My neighbors and I have noted how the local cowardly thugs and buffoons carry bowie knives, machetes, baseball bats, lead pipes, heavy chains, pistols, shotguns, (sniper) rifles. Whatever. They look tough, well, laughably, but all that “toughness” only means that they are cowards, always in packs, always almost incapable of even standing up without falling over. The local thugs and buffoons have expressed disdain for dogs to me and have three times stated that they will kill the neighbor’s sweet dog by coming back with a baseball bat to beat that that puppy’s brains out (witnessed). Yep. But, I know, the last thing a thug and buffoon will carry with them is any violence or threats of violence they have ever done or made. Thier own evil is not on their own radar. So, no real ongoing threat. Not in the least.

Having said that, I should add that Laudie-dog was shot in the neck with a pellet gun just under her left ear the other year, and that wound is still festering enough for Shadow-dog to tenderly offer some dog-medic treatment for quite a few minutes even now, with Laudie-dog very appreciative with all that tender care:

The Vet didn’t want to do anything with that ongoing wound just yet. Meanwhile, as I have sometimes said, Shadow-dog is himself well aware of the hurt coming from pellet guns, having been the victim already four times. We’re all happy that, as a wolf-dog, he has fully three coats of fur, all the more thick and heavy around the neck. A bit more worrisome, however, is that his doghouse – next to the house – was hit by a 9mm bullet. I changed out the doghouse so as to confuse the idiot perps a bit. Confusing idiot perps is easy, unless they are not on drugs, unless they are determined just to be evil outside of any evil wrought merely for political correctness with thug peers. Some of the druggies are not druggies at all, but deal only with money and suppliers, keeping track of suppliers, enforcing debt collection. They are likely to be just a bit more dangerous, though I doubt that even they know how to work any safeties on guns, or how to load up a magazine and lock it in, or even whether or not there are any bullets in whatever gun. However, if you yourself get shot in a totally unprovoked attack, you can judge in that very nanosecond that a deadly threat is presently being delivered and if this is in turn judged not to be an accidental discharge but someone continuing to fire at you, the self-defense you render over against such an unprovoked attack is not only justified, but is certainly a contribution to the exercise of the virtue of justice.

The 911 call at the top of this post is after the initial nanosecond of the actual murder of DASY, and Marcus himself was not shot at or attacked with any baseball bat: the perps, the cowards, ran away. The way Marcus brought DASY’s attackers to justice honors those after whom DASY had been named.

May Danny, Axe and Yankee rest in peace. Amen.

And thanks, Marcus, for setting a standard to strive after.

BTW, the comments section after that YouTube 911 call are some of the best on the internet, not because of the hilarious ones (there are a lot) but because the occasional one which is in obvious solidarity with Marcus in a way that could only be done by someone who likewise has suffered for all that is good, who has likewise seen his close friends taken out in front of him. Quite sobering, really. And we need that in these crazy anti-American times we now live in here in these United States of America.

And, yes, it is in God that we trust. Always. Everywhere. In every situation. Amen.

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Filed under Dogs, Law enforcement, Military

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

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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Filed under hacking, Intelligence Community, Law enforcement

Flowers for the Immaculate Conception (Thin Blue Line, ed.)

In a post flower for the Immaculate Conception I made a big deal about two groupings of Montauk Daisies planted out front of the rectory. They’ve been ripped up because this beginning gardener had recently put down a heap of lime in the soil of those two seed boxes for the winter. A bit too recently.

But there are still roses on the rose bush at the corner of the house, just under the new Thin Blue Line flag, which isn’t about racism, but rather about law and order for all the children of God regardless of such characteristics. I’m a firm believer that all lives matter because the Divine Son of the Immaculate Conception, Christ Jesus, had redeemed all and wants that we also assist all to assent to be saved, all things being equal.

Mary, Mir-yam, as her Hebrew name suggests, is the thin blue line for us. She is in perfect solidarity with Jesus, who, to the point, upholds Natural Law (as He’s our Creator) and the Ten Commandments, and all legitimate societal law and order in view of clemency and mercy and forgiveness without ever offending justice and righteousness.

She sees it all. She intercedes for all. She is a good mother to all.

As I also continue to work on the front window for celebrations this Winter in this Northern Hemisphere, I’m thinking about repainting firstly Mary with a blue cloak and a more human Israeli complexion. Jesus did enter our history with all of His own unrepeatable historical circumstances, after all. And, after all, as Saint Paul says, He is the Head of the Body of Christ, while we are the members of the Body of Christ.

A prayer to Mary also for the souls in purgatory: Hail Mary…

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Filed under Flores, Law enforcement, Officer Down!

911 what’s the location of your emergency? – Shots fired! Shots fired! We’re at…

To the left, within feet of the old drug house (just out of the picture, bordering the grade school property and upon which I participated in a kind of SWAT raid a while back), you see a white Cherokee County Sheriff’s Department cruiser, then, moving to the right, a black Andrews City Police Department cruiser, then a pickup of the alleged friend of the alleged perp, then under the lit-up tree, our great, fearless LEOs who just took the alleged perp to the ground after an alleged scuffle of allegedly resisting arrest, then the alleged perp’s pickup truck, then the alleged perp’s house lights, just across the street, with the alleged perp’s house also bordering the grade school property. Yep. Not even an inch distant from school property. Kids are always in mortal danger in this neighborhood, not to mention all the law abiding citizens, of which the very best in WNC are also my neighbors.

After a long day of meetings, endless miles on the road, dramas with the church campuses, provision of the sacraments, going to Confession myself, going up to the Cemetery just before Veteran’s Day to take pictures of the destruction of numerous grave stones of a recent incident still under investigation, then the editing of the next article of my best friend, Father Gordon J. MacRae, to be published November 11, 2020 (after an unexpected nuclear explosion of drama from the sidelines), and after having fed Shadow-dog and Laudie-dog, I collapsed in bed with the window open (still warm evenings here in the back ridges of extreme WNC).

Fully asleep by, say 8:45 PM, Shadow-dog woke me up with a tell-tail, so to speak, very deep throated “woof-WOOF!” I listened to what was an alleged mag-dump of, just guessing, an alleged .22, say 6 or 7 bullets, flying everywhere (within city limits, btw), and I listened also to a male voice and also a female voice allegedly making comments at each other, then barking of other dogs, and then Shadow-dog making insistent comments, all in the space of seconds as I got out of bed. Then I got a text from a neighbor – at 9:18 PM, then a phone call from the same:

“Shots fired! Guns drawn! Get over here, now!”

As I raced over, three kids on bikes were passing my house to investigate what all the excitement was about. Just. Wow. So I took on a Shadow-dog voice and barked commands at them:

“Get back! Now! Shots fired! Guns drawn! Get back! Now! Go! – Go! – Go! – Go! – Go!”

Lo and behold, they instantly turned tail and raced away. Thank God. You have to use extremely short, extremely clear commands when peoples’ adrenaline is flowing.

What I allegedly saw then was my alleged neighbor out front of his house with an alleged shotgun fully lifted up and pointed directly at two of our great Law Enforcement Officers, who, in turn, both had their service pistols aimed directly at him as a response. Commands to drop the gun were given and then the alleged statement from one of our LEOs was made (a voice I know well): “You’re about a half a second away from getting shot.”

The alleged perp put down the gun, but then allegedly, incredibly, resisted arrest. Unbelievable. The alleged perp was forthwith assisted to the ground for his own safety and that of the officers and others in the neighborhood. The alleged perp was cuffed and stuffed into the town cruiser. After our town officer took statements from my neighbors, the alleged perp was then brought down to jail, driven right past us.

As of this writing, a great family who had moved into the drug house after we had done a kind of SWAT raid on that house, has just now moved out. Another neighbor is also moving out in the next days. And another neighbor plans to move as soon as possible. There is still an extremely active known drug house in back of our back yards. Lots of violence. Blood everywhere.

But the great bishop of Charlotte Diocese (this parish is on the far western side of the Diocese) has repeatedly said to me over the years after I (NOT complaining but just describing dramas like this to him (dramas which happen all the time)… the Bishop said repeatedly to my great joy: “Catholics don’t run!” I agree: Catholics don’t run. And pastors don’t abandon Jesus’ little flock.

Meanwhile, I’m guessing the alleged perp will be out on bail and possibly taking revenge on my neighbors for calling 911 and on Shadow-dog for helping to sound the alarm. Goood daaawwg! The alleged perp has allegedly told me that he allegedly has three guns. The shotgun is now in the possession of law enforcement. But what about the other alleged guns in this alleged perpetrator’s house?

Kudos to our Law Enforcement Officers, both of the Sheriff’s Department and our own town Police Department. They showed incredible restraint in not ending the threat with the assistance of their own… um… tools, but just by verbal commands. I’m certain that this is the closest either of them have come to pulling the trigger on someone. After all, this guy is allegedly known to allegedly shoot his weapons in town and had just allegedly done up a mag dump moments before. You just can’t get closer than that to taking care of business.

Maybe they were counting on the alleged perp to be reasonable, though, in my opinion, even from a distance, the alleged perp seemed to be drunk as a skunk, which is allegedly a very frequent state of mind for him. Maybe they thought the alleged perp could figure out that even if he pulled the trigger on one officer, the other is likely going to do a brain-box shot on him. I guess being a team of two or more works well for tactical reasons in a shots fired domestic circumstance, right?

Maybe they also saw that they alleged perp was just trying to do a suicide by cop. All way too sad. I hate that for him. I hate that our officers had to be under the stress of this guy allegedly pointing a shotgun in their faces. I would hate it for the officers if they had to pull the trigger on this guy. No matter how justified the shooting, we’re not made by God to kill one another, and you carry this with you. I just had a LEO tell me that the other week, and he would know, as he had to do this in defense of his life: no matter how justified pulling the trigger would be, the guy who is defending the innocent is always by taking out the threat is always the victim, having to carry this his or her entire life. Suicide by cop is an act of aggression against law enforcement.

Just so you know where I stand, here’s a shot of the front of Sassy the Subaru: that would be a think blue line…

Jenny the Jeep has been sold and title transferred. A parishioner sold me his 2001 Toyota Tacoma SR5 six cylinder. Here’s a shot of the front of the Toyota:

That’s from the same roll of blue reflective tape for the Thin Blue Line. It just depends on how the light hits it.

Meanwhile, in taking these pictures this morning, after the shooting, I was the subject of a drive-by screaming, the guy being really upset that Jenny the Jeep was sold not to him but to a friend who got in just before him. Sigh. I’ll put that down to the tensions people are under because of Covid-19, because of draconian political power-plays regarding Covid-19, because of the weirdness of the election, the promises to pack the Supreme Court, the promises to confiscate guns, the promises to make everyone pay for abortion, the promises to have no borders whatsoever, the promises to absolutely destroy all law enforcement, all stuff which may have pushed our neighborhood shooter over the line.

Finally, yes, this priest was carrying his permitted carry, a Glock 19, chambered, just in case our LEOs needed some civilian assistance according to the normal rules of engagement for use of the Second Amendment. In the dark night, I didn’t want to rush into the scene prematurely, perhaps causing the alleged perp to pull the trigger on the officers and then me and my neighbors, to whatever extent he could have accomplished that. The purpose of being a law enforcement chaplain is not to add danger to any alleged perp or any law enforcement officer or anyone else. But I’m always at the ready to help where I can be of assistance with prudence, reason.

Finally, finally, I want to give a big thanks once again to our officers of both the Sheriff’s Department and our town Police Department. Our police officer took the lead in all this. He’s totally fearless and extremely well prepared with lots of experience. I think it was just his confidence and the personal power of his commands that had the alleged perp-coward put down his weapon. Very cool, that. A victory for everyone, for America, for the best that there is in humanity from God, prompt in readiness to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. Thanks to our great LEOs.

To those who would criticize the officers for not blowing this guy’s head off his shoulders when they would be totally justified in doing so for their own safety and the safety of the neighbors and of the entire town… well, you weren’t there, with your finger on the trigger, seeing what they saw, seeing what they could otherwise do right then, right there, in a split second. Clam down. I agree that the media and others have scared some officers into not doing the necessary, fearing losing their jobs, their retirement, fearing murder charges for what is purely protection of themselves and other citizens from entirely deadly aggression being actively delivered. I agree, but in this instance, I was not behind the trigger as the responding officer, and did not see what the officers saw from close up, barrel to barrel. Neither were you. Clam down. It is what is is. I’m happy with the outcome. Very happy. I’d be happy to be friends with the alleged perp. But people make choices. I hope he makes better choices in the future.

For everyone in these crazy times: Hail Mary…

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Filed under Guns, Law enforcement

Cop chaplain’s Glock, Back the Blue & 2a T-Shirts, Deescalation

We live in a time of anti-God, marxist bullies, whose BLM Antifa style fascism (yes, they reflect each other), whose primary method of anarchism is meant to bait law enforcement officers into being ambushed, wherein no matter what happens, it’s the fault of any authority other than their narcissistic selves. The entitled bully’s is reaction to authority, which is, then, by definition, no identity at all:

  • Identity politics is about being devoid of identity. There is no self-respect, no respect for others, no respect for God our Creator, no respect for the natural law or any law other than the absolutism of one’s personal relativity to oneself, which is nothing. Yuck.

Assassination of law enforcement officers is the “order” of the day, with such assassinations celebrated by all criminals who entitle themselves to blind obedience of their rich masters who pay them slave wages.

There’s a political party which celebrates such as this:

No apologies from this Catholic-priest-law-enforcement-chaplain: if I saw someone pumping bullets into law enforcement officers who were just minding their own business, I wouldn’t bother with any failure drill (two to the body and then one to the head if the threat weren’t yet ended), but I would rather just do a quick double tap to the head. Yes. No time to waste, especially with someone who looks like they might well be wearing body armor. Of course, then, as the priest, I would conditionally absolve the perp, you know, while calling in the “Shots fired!” and “Officers down!” and EMS and LEO assistance required. One hopes there will always be time for deescalation techniques. One hopes that one can use the old “continuum of force” fairy tale made up by someone who has never been in the field.

But encounters don’t always go very slowly, and are not always subject to a half dozen steps bringing one within rules of engagement, you know, greeting a person who then runs, who then resists arrest, who then gathers a crowd interfering with the arrest, who then assaults the LEOs with stones and bottles, who then grapples with the LEO, who then uses deadly force on the LEOs. It can go from zero to one hundred in less than a nanosecond.

It is expected, nevertheless, that the officer, while pumped full of bullets, will call social services to calmly talk the perp down at all of these stages, waiting an hour or two for the nice social worker to show up, that is, after a few weeks when messages are retrieved during these Covid-19 zero service, zero office hours difficult period we are going through in these USA and around the world.

When it goes from zero to a hundred in a nanosecond, there’s no time for this kind of BS. No deescalation techniques. No coping mechanisms. No offering of lolly-pops and cotton candy. No time.

There’s a political party which demands that the criminally insane be allowed to murder whomsoever they want, but especially law enforcement officers:

No apologies from this Catholic-priest-law-enforcement-chaplain: if I saw someone repeatedly plunging a Bowie knife into any law enforcement officer who was just minding his or her own business, I wouldn’t bother with any polite discourse, using words like sir or miss, or please, but I would rather just do a quick double tap to his or her head. Yes. And that’s even if I knew the guy or gal was criminally insane. He might not be personally responsible for his actions, being criminally insane and all that, but that doesn’t mean that the threat shouldn’t be subdued. We live in a fallen world. It’s not the officer’s fault or my fault if unjust aggression is afoot. It’s all very sad. I wish it weren’t so. The one who assists in lessening the threat is also a victim. Who wants to carry that event around in one’s soul for the rest of one’s life? Nobody. Deescalation IF POSSIBLE.

Meanwhile, I’m patriotic and I’ll tell you this, there’s only a small percentage of those in America (whether citizens or paid foreign terrorists) who are like that. Most people are like those I met on the day off yesterday. They were happy for me to take pictures of the backs of their T-Shirts:

I make it a habit to have lunch on the day off with another priest at this particular restaurant in the middle of absolutely nowhere. I don’t think I’ve ever been here when there hasn’t been some law enforcement officers, or spec ops guys and gals. This is the order of the day in this back-mountain region of Appalachia. There is no harassment of those dining here. ;-)

The other week as we were leaving that restaurant, one such guy threw out a greeting to me, and I made the observation that he had a tattoo of a very unique American Bald Eagle on his forearm (stating the extremely obvious), but I asked what the symbolism was, expecting something about that stylized eagle being the logo of a particular military group. He hesitated a couple seconds, perhaps not wanting to share anything like that at that moment while trying to eat with his wife (I’m so imprudent, but he started it), but he then exclaimed that it stands for “Freedom!” I laughed in joy and wished him a “Be safe!” as he did for me.

Look, I realize that this is not the experience of those who live even just down the road from me in Atlanta, where, as in so many other places, people are accosted while quietly eating in a restaurant, their meals thrown on the floor, getting spit on, insulted and shrieked at, their tables and chairs being overturned, and even elderly people being smashed to the floor and beat up by uncontrollable mobs. Let’s see… that would be defined for the elderly as at least grave bodily harm. I’ve seen what an intracranial hematoma can do to people – like a 66 year old parishioner of mine. She died pretty quickly after that, but only after tortuous suffering.

That kind of assault, threatening grave bodily harm or death in some circumstances to be evaluated, would also be a threat which would have to be confronted, though such a confrontation would surely – at least with me, I hope – be able to be wrought in such manner that deescalation of unjust aggressors would immediately ensue. These kinds of perps are such cowards when anyone confronts them. Just use the Jedi Knight trick by telling them – in no uncertain terms – that they will stand down, NOW! Yes. It does work.

Perhaps you remember that Jedi Knight trick:

Here’s the deal. We all want peace and joy, goodness and kindness, all of us, including and perhaps especially the perps. There’s no one more thankful for having been stood down than a perp who then has had an opportunity to think about it and repent. Praise the Lord, for His mercy endures forever. We pray for better times. We pray that we get through the next few months unscathed.

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Filed under Guns, Law enforcement, Military, Officer Down!, Patriotism

About your trauma recovery dear Father Byers… ;-)

A couple of articles have been published in recent years about terrorist suicide bomber Saeed Hotari.

There was nothing traumatic in all that. I was never much traumatized by my being shot at I don’t know how many times over decades and the ten thousand other “incidents” any one of which might throw someone into a trauma-recovery program, say, in North East Virginia, say, at Wolf Trap or at Liberty Crossing Campus. As I’ve often said however, bullets buzzing by one’s ears are certainly memorable.

In that more recent article linked above I mentioned that I carry. It’s a Glock 19, chambered. I like the Serpa Blackhawk OWB, for convenience, my stupid record (as I’ll never repeat that again) is 1.01 seconds for 2 to the “body” (spine) 1 to the head (brain-box) 25 feet out from the holster. Being in a state of prompt readiness to protect the innocent from unjust aggression is a virtue related to justice. Just to say it, mercy is a potential part of the virtue of justice, as Saint Thomas Aquinas points out in his commentary on the Sentences. Providing justice is a mercy. Yes.

I received a very clever comment on that more recent article. At first glance I thought this was a denunciation of carrying a Glock. But it’s not that at all. I didn’t let it out of moderation there as I wanted to give it a bit more visibility. I include my interlinear [comments]:

  • “We cannot rely on our own ability to fight evil [she’s referring to Peter slicing off the ear of Malchus when Jesus is being betrayed, as we’ll see momentarily] but must depend on God. [I agree.] How often we forget our survival is totally dependent on God. [Hey! I forget all the time, you know, not having the beatific vision and all that. Yep. I agree. I want to go to heaven!] Eventually we all learn [well, some of us] that the unstable world [crux stat dum volitur orbis: let’s just call it a fallen world and figure this out] cannot be the source of our security, of true peace of heart. [“My strength shines out through your weakness” – Jesus to Paul] I’m interested in how you square your essay with Luke 22:51. [I’m paraphrasing because of bad translations, but Lk 22:51 is this: Jesus said: “All of you let me do this!” And He touched the ear of (Malchus) and healed him.] Your words make it sound like you live your trauma recovery [with me being Malchus and all… (adn with trauma recovery being a very technical term betraying much background in the same] in a state of protection with a clenched fist. [That is, not trusting in God and full of fear, whereby Malchus steals Peter’s sword and I forge it into a Glock. Very clever, that. And lots of work to be able to spit that out just like that. There’s no way out except like this:] Meanwhile another hand, not yours or mine, reaches out in the Eucharist. [See top picture on the Eucharist. And I agree with that, to a point.]

Malchus was an enemy, a servant of the High Priest, literally dead set against Jesus. Malchus learned from the mercy shown him to be sure. It being that I’m the Missionary of Mercy of the High Priest, Pope Francis, maybe I too should learn something of mercy. But is carrying a tool to protect the innocent from unjust aggression a lack of mercy making me the enemy of Jesus?

Jesus was a special case. His reprimand not only to Peter but to all the Apostles (it’s a plural imperative) was not about the inappropriateness of what Peter was doing so much as it gave Jesus a moment to show mercy to the end. This was precisely like His reprimand to John the Baptist: Let it be so for now for the fulfillment of righteousness! When Jesus was baptized He was asking our Heavenly Father to treat Him as if were guilty of sin, not just like the charioteers and soldiers of Pharaoh who were drowned for their sin of enslaving the chosen people, but He was asking to be treated like He was guilty for having enslaved all in sin, all peoples of all times, from Adam until the last man is conceived. Jesus lays down His life, taking on the punishment we deserve for original sin and all our own rubbish, so that He has the right in His own justice to have mercy on us. The Apostles see this mercy with Malchus and off they go.

Is it wrong to protect oneself and others while trusting in God while doing this mercy? No. In fact, it’s a contribution to the virtue of justice.

Two points and excuse my theological language:

First of all, I don’t want any trauma recovery, particularly not anything from Northeast Virginia. Why not? Because I’m not traumatized enough, not yet. As some priest friends from Colombia told me, “We’ve done nothing; we’ve not lain down our lives for the brethren.” Get me away from all that is trauma recovery. If anything, my therapy will be to put my fingers into Jesus’ wounds in His hands and my hand right into the wound in His side, into His heart.

My saying, “My Lord and my God” will be my entire trauma recovery, good enough to take my right through torture and death. I deserve everything I get along the way of the effects of original sin and my own, including being available to the malevolence of others (there ain’t no Glock that’s gonna stop that). And because Jesus laid down His life for me and called me to be His priest, He deserves that I un-clench my fists so as to Consecrate His Body and Blood at Holy Mass, so as to provide Absolution of sin, so as to Baptize, so as to Confirm… Yes. But I still carry. In calmness. Tranquility. You know the drill: “Carry! And carry on!”

It is no trauma to follow up on Jesus’ invitation: “As the Master, so the disciple.” Why not? Because His strength shines out through our weakness. His love carries us in the peace and joy of the Holy Spirit.

Let me give an example. This very morning, while that lady wrote her comment, I myself at the same time was being stripped of my carry and locked in jail. I’m out now, obviously. But you have to know that I feel most at home among sinners like Malchus because I’m so like him. I make lots of friends in jail. I have a Bible study with the guys every week. I love it. What a joy. And I gotta say, lots of the guys are much better prepared in the Scriptures than were my seminarians anywhere around the world. Truly. I love it. We help each other out to get to know the Lord. Believe me, no protection or clenched fists inside the stone walls. No, no. It’s all about Jesus. It’s all about putting that ear back on Malchus. And about letting that ear get put back on me by those, you know, “sinners” and all that.

But, hey! Not to worry my interlocutor comment friend. Maybe you can help me with a bit of trauma recovery after all. There are some adjustments to the “recovery program” that I’m on – if you want to call it that – (DS or DipSec might have another name for all that), adjustments which I would like to be implemented, but I won’t write about that or say it over the phone. I need an in-person interview with someone, say, I don’t know, just up from the Rosslyn metro stop, maybe at the Campus… Can you swing that, maybe with CCS oversight? That would be really, really cool. Seriously, if you want to help me, that would go a long way.

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