So. What a week.

First, there is the incident the earlier this week where one ATM not working forced me to another where I encountered someone who, by build and general description resembles that person who does not exist that I mentioned recently regarding item 12 from the MK/ULTRA 1955 draft memo that survived the alleged destruction of all paper regarding that and related projects.

He is delusional. A “kook” if you will. I suppose in that small regard I can be mildly thankful since it’s a reminder that I make no such claims, merely that I was a lab rat and witness (if it happened, well someone had to be, didn’t they?).

For example, his biological mother is Madonna (he only hinted that she was a famous musician but I got it on the first guess). His ex boyfriend is a television personality involved in entertainment gossip shows (I did not offer up “Ryan Seacrest” as a suggestion—who I really did NOT see at the ’09/’10 New Year’s Eve thing at ABC despite being told he walked by me about six times…maybe Seacrest is a ninja—but expect that to be the answer or similar). He is both a trained, licensed psychiatrist and attorney. He has a home on Park Avenue in Manhattan. He has been recruited by both the FBI and (this is how he says it) ML5 (as opposed to MI5… the UK’s FBI, Military Intelligence Five). The list goes on.

Occasionally, I get a glimpse of what really happened to him. Several or a few years ago, he smoked some weed that was laced with a psychoactive and fell into a psychosis. He was in it for six months and, he says, this I tend to believe, was not expected to ever come out of it. He stayed awake for nearly seven days, unable to sleep. They had to induce sleep in order for him to not have heart failure.

Of course, not being completely paranoid (that is, not nearly paranoid enough given my circumstances… I mean how do you manage to poison a paranoiac four times in a month in Kentucky if he’s really that paranoid? No. I am not that paranoid and refuse to live that way) it took me about an hour to realize the resemblance he bears to that pseudo-apparition.

In any case, he is much improved over where he apparently was. Delusional, yes, but not so far gone he cannot function.

Next, there was the event I attended that I had none or little intent of attending. It was supposed to be me and one other gent I met having drinks. Then his wife decided to join us. We did that earlier elsewhere and they invited me to the later event. I did of course recognize who was sponsoring it and asked who would be attending before agreeing. The nice young woman checked the guest list and there were no names I recognized. She also suggested that her hubby and I would avoid it altogether and continue our literary discussion downstairs, so I agreed.

So imagine my surprise when there was, not just one but two, people I recognized. Further, imagine their surprise when they saw me, having I suppose expected I was gone from the vicinity. (As I posted previously, more on that later).

Then there is this morning’s completely unsought conversation in which a 20-year US military veteran decided to spill his guts about his father being on his deathbed AND to proceed to tell me what he does: oversee defense contracts in Afghanistan. His father’s situation is rather similar to mine, or could be mere months or years from now.

(This is how they do thinly veiled threats. “This could be you,” applies to both the vet and the kook. Given the stakes, survival of the species and avoiding a very bloody set of wars and other disasters, I marvel at the sheer stupidity of such efforts. As Blade said, “Some motherf***ers always gotta be iceskating uphill”).

All of that happened.

Further, because it may be buried deeply within the over 500 posts on this blog, I will reiterate the following:

When the Squidgate situation started, there was the revelation that a former friend and actor from the New Jersey Shakespeare Festival had that surprising connection to Peter. Then an intern, R****** D*****, tried to regain contact with me. Then I saw R***** B***** at a large gay party in Manhattan and the way I wound up there was so convoluted, so twisty, so dependent on one event leading to another that I do truly marvel at the fact that it was clearly a human or group of humans who managed to get me there. Then I discovered that yet another intern, K**** E****, was living mere blocks away from me in Brooklyn for about the same time I lived there and yet we never once crossed paths until Squidgate happened.

So. Occam’s razor:

1) There is a God and he’s trying to tell us something (simple).

2) Several insane military brass have taken over the government, several greedy individuals in the intelligence community are capitalizing on 9-11, several less-that-scrupulous mercenaries and other Top Secret America subcontractors are creating terrorism to justify the discretionary spending in their budgets, Congress is corrupt and intimidated, all that creating a perfect storm that is the situation we now find ourselves in: unending war coupled with no significant action on preventing an environmental disaster of global proportions (in fact, the perpetual war only makes it worse because it contributes greatly to pollution). (Complex).

Which is simpler?

F*** Occam. He was probably a CIA dupe or lackey. *

The real solution: greedy psychos are using high tech for profit. Simple and does not require magic to explain.

* A joke. Given the age and the fact that, really, Ockham’s Messer was attributed incorrectly to begin with you would have to lay the origins elsewhere and accept that it does probably work with apples to apples in settings like academia. We’re talking the spy biz and war propaganda. That’s all about making lies seem credible and that in itself means the usual detection tools go out the window. Catching and unraveling falsely-spun narratives is a tricky, complex business.


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