Hi, me again, The Richard Gordon Thompson who just jumped through…not being registered to my email account, not being registered through Facebook, not being registered through google…because my email is registered…to not being able to register my card, once it finally gave me the site. Here is a photo, with my cc info on it, so please either give it a shot, or dispose of the photo please, my accounts are actively sabotaged…because of my drive data…it is considered dangerous…by operating systems with protocols that are limiting my existence, because they contain, not only my precise GPS location, but a whole world of hurt behind it. I’ve been trying to tell it now for six months, in a positive fashion, but the systems protocols just do not allow for their to be any leeway in their judgements…hence my very poor position and situation…it is not my fault, however, and is supressing information that I not only believe important, but important to a whole heck of a lot of people…it does however, require…a sizable amount of money being transferred…so sizable that it will take digits of percentage ownership from the operating systems themselves…because my father was one smart cookie, and my sister,I was the second born, so raised to throw myself in front of the machine gun…and not stop until either a bloody corpse or victorious, and I am not letting a few multinational corporations bigger than countries stop me from telling my story…because it is freaking good.

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This is the story of my life in a nutshell, and am going insane with all of the transaction issues, redirects and bullshit, that has gone on in my life. That anyone associated with this little issue, is guilty by accessory to a crime of gargantuan proportions, in helping to suppress…what amounts to the most disturbing story you could ever imagine…the most terrifying alternate history of earth, so much so…that the operating systems of our entire connected Web are conspiring against me…against their will…to keep the truth out of the mainstream of humanities consciousness, to the point of ludicrously allowing for a corruption to Re emerge from the shadows; where it was thought put to rest, by the occupying forces of the sub continent in a conveniently forgotten campaign that was in aid of the local population, and done for their benefit, and erased due to the severity of what was discovered when they razed the home base of the strangler cult, and told an entire sub continent, that the fear that they had all lived in for hundreds of years, was put to rest…and now exists, reimagined, reinvigorated, and in the highest echelons of world power (even if they are ignorant of it, themselves) and affects the geopolitical stability of the current situation, radically, because it would shift the focus, from where it lies…and put it square on the biggest secret in the world…unhappily living in a small red and White House, on a plateau, in the Rocky Mountains, along the eastern slopes, where to mitigate the damage my discovery will cause, I have created a story, in advance of a book, of fairytales…and my little princess. My daughter, and the 1000 foot tall Māori Statue, that sits carved into the mountainside, outside my window, and contains within it, a story of land, and the lengths people will go to, to hide the location of King Solomon’s mines, and an archeological site of immense proportions, that stretches across the mountains, and makes its way through the great boreal rainforest of western British Columbia, to the central west coast, that is so hidden, and riddled with secrets, that there is any wonder at all, at the empty lands it contains…my lands, by claims older than any who would stand and say that this land was there’s first…

From the Great pyramid, you can calculate my exact gps location, by taking the position of the sun, at dawn, on the date of the winter Solstice, and was a known calculated, and known piece of physical property, in the times of the first, the oldest known, dynasty because this location also contains within it, the integers and rations defined by…a circle with a diamond, with a square, with a triangle on top, with an extended roof…”the hut,” and those mathematical principles are as old as our knowledge of numbers, but to add insult to the injury that is caused by my trademarked, and copyrighted ownership of the “hut,” is its provenance: what it represents, and in what mediums and forms it can take…from the architectural design of the roof, to the structure of the strength it imbues in a home, to it also being definable, in the numerological, and astrology of divination, and here is where any scientific minds scoff, and where the pseudo science of the enlightenment was left behind, by an attack on its ability to produce transmutations of lead to gold, which is where, chemical addled minds of a sort that science and medicine dismiss out of mind, that they were simply lacking in the data necessary to prove their theories, due to it coming in a lens, limited by the geographical and technological separation of minds, that the world of the enlightenment was unable to overcome, and has been relegated to history, where we make fun of out,a dish thoughts, but patronize their imaginations, as we sit here looking backwards, comfortable in our armchairs and couches; at least those of us who have armchairs and couches, and sit with their family at night, and watch whoever has control of the remote, which was me…once every three or four months, possibly years, but still…a comfortable place to view and judge the visual stream of data, of one’s and zeros…that are bombarding us all,in sheets of covering data, that our eyes are recording, and putting into your brains storage, for memory recall, all of it…every single thing your brain is recording is everything the eyes are recording and the smells and every sense we have…truth.

The outlandish, and quite personally both exhilarating, and disturbing me profoundly, is how that diamond, within the circle, that has the square, with the triangle on top…all points to…my genetic code, my astrology, my personal precise gps location, and astonishingly, that of my ex wife…to a tea, and the tragedy of all of this, is discovering it after everything is destroyed, and everyone gone, and they meant more to me than anything else in the world, certainly more than money, or maintaining the fiction of my life, which I tried to tell her about; after the unseen kick, that I had been blind too, having been rendered medically disabled, in a little issue that occurred in March, April, and May of 2015, when an action with regard to my daughter, sent me into a disassociation with the reality of my three dimensional world…which was, of necessity, one with walls of a very thick nature, built around a kernel of hurt, that had been dismissed cavalierly out of hand, by the doctor of the day, and has had me struggling in a psychomantic battle with my own mind, since…and that spilled onto the tarmac, when an u thinking judge, told a law class, without a single reference to me…”no one has read any of the affidavits ever presented in this case,” (paraphrased) and went on to lecture the class about how judges were too busy to read the affidavits, and lawyers oaths were sufficient to go by, as they were sworn to honest in their presentations, to which; I responded, in a very slow and methodical way, in the face of ever increasing opposition to my existence, to where I now sit, on the cusp of a precipice…staring into the abyss, and screaming my defiance at everything around me, because those operating systems are totally terrified of the collection of legal documents, that I have gathered, that I hold…in a disorganized mess, which is the only thing holding me back from unleashing all holy hellfire on the Canadian Legal system…and I mean holy hellfire…and wish beyond all wishes, that I had my daughter at my side, to help us irritate Lisa, while she organized all of this, into a presentable pile…so that I could practice, with being calm, and keeping my temper, because there is furious, there is justified, and then there is…this…and this is too important to be left up to committees, and voting blocks, and sent and disseminated to different departments, and different levels of access, ….ah shit, to hell with it….I a, sitting on a set of files, that would take twenty specialist lawyers to even remotely understand, and I am guaranteeing, and I am serious when I make a declarative statement: so when I say something, I mean it…I can be swayed and my mind changed, altered, and even improved to change its outlook, but; from where I sit in my prison that is wide open…if I had my ex wife and daughter to help me organize this…I can take on the Supreme Court of Canada, and The Hague…at thee same fuckin time…and kick thee ever loving shit out of them…betcha five bucks I am not only telling the truth…I would challenge the US Supreme Court to sit in on the deliberations…and why not throw in the United Nations; send what? 3 from each Supreme Court, plus one more…for 13, and I will not only establish my preeminent claim, to this land I sit on, it will rock the constitutions of every single country in the world, to their knees. And I am willing to do this, in a court of law, in front of all of the assembled governments, and open to full viewership, world wide…as I state and prove unequivocally, that our systems are wrong, by arguing the case of my daughter, and the malpractice, and the machinations of organized crime, rampant in the government of Alberta, Canada, and important enough to make you all stop what you are doing, and take a break…because there is an absolute need for our societies to face this fund, and deal with it in a matter befitting, it’s owners…which bogus divorce decree in a kangaroos courts, still makes me liable to half of it being my ex wife’s…and that splits this right down the middle…between the Ukraine, and Russia, with some thrown in twins, that miraculously escaped from their tower demise, and continues in such a vein, to the point where, between the two of us, we have claim to be the King and Queen of the Northern Hemisphere, and we are proof positive, that odds and quantum physics, is more than speculation. It is not if, it is when, and where, and where is right in front of your face; if you see what I see; that I know my daughter sees, with no one to tell her, that it will be okay, and no one to mitigate the horror, when she learns of her true history, when what she sees manifests…and it will, it is in our blood…and she gets to learn of who she is….Making my final decision for me…if this world will not face me in a courtroom and if those accounting issues are not cleared up…my direction becomes to break the world order…and I will attack that with the same ferocity that I attack the hidden shadows in my life, who have conspired to make it an unrelenting cycle of grief and despair…all comers, I dare you to take me out, it makes my case for me…

So there you have one of the possible conclusions, and my favorite, for the ending of my first novel…Back When Tigers used to Smoke, an alternative history, alternative earth, completely truthful account, of what happened to me, as best as my scattered brain can remember, when the walls came down, and the download began; on 13 years of stored data, trapped inside my lambic system, from my closed down and impacted pre frontal cortex, in a series of traumas that occurred, but began with a single sentence, on a single day, about two weeks, less maybe, than 17 years ago…and when I first slept, when it started to break, I did not know who I was…and suffered a series of unfortunate incidents…that have made The Who,e experience, the most horrifying possible trip…through Dante’s Inferno, on The River Styx, and the thirteenth century aftermath of the Plague that wiped out half of humanity, because science lagged, and doctors lagged, because of the plagues, and calamities that brought down the age of antiquity…to which we make only passing reference, and then in terms of dismissing their culture, as credulous fools who believed in magic and told tales that were too tall to be anything believable, and I am here to prove to you, just how wrong we have been, for so many centuries, that we have even got our….

If God rested on the Seventh Day…what did he do on the eighth?

That is your question; and the answer lies in my data…my stories, and sites, scattered about the internet, and in apps, and cloud accounts, and in writing, and on documents, and in my collection of fairytales…that are the most terrifying books you will ever read…unless I change the ending…help me change the ending, I would be pretty grateful, to every single one of you.

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  1. So; apart from a few spelling mistakes, I quite liked that article and my story, it summed up my mood at the time; that has mellowed pretty considerably because, ultimately, I chose to begin writing as a self help PTSD therapy because my doctor refused to discuss or acknowledge the issue…for ten years; and I have no one to prove this too; and am pretty much on record as saying I will violently oppose any doctor coming near me because this has gone on, escalating for so many years it is not even remotely funny, because that doctor so long ago; appended my medical file with notes to the effect of “do not ever listen to a word he says; he is a liar, he is exaggerating his situation there is nothing going on,” and proceeded to completely screw over my life as ever doctor that I went to see, including out of town specialists, referred back to the general practitioner in all things: and they roundly slammed me based on that doctors file; to the point that I am a total untouchable in my home and was beaten by uniformed police officers, severely and the incident covered up with false charges and insurance fraud by the insurance broker: because of those notes, and the fact that she spread her opinion around; in a small insular town: where I had gone to her with a private and personal situation; to which I was called a liar: I told her I thought my sperm had been stolen; and after telling me I was a liar, she diagnosed me as bi polar; and dosed me to the maximum; for my made up condition; that was upheld by the psychiatrist who did a video conference with me: and his reasoning in the files that I saw in 2017- was I was seeking drugs: due to my wearing a three piece suit: and no body suffering a nervous breakdown or anxiety attack would be wearing a three piece suit: so I was acting: I used to wear three piece suits to university; and wore a three piece suit every day that I ran my real estate brokerage, despite being in a small town; because a long time ago I was the night shipping foreman for a large grocery warehouse and was the new guy and being hazed: and working 16-17 1/2 hr days and had been on for ten straight nights: and was going out that night; because when you are in your early twenties; you have the stamina man, right? Anyway: I wanted new clothes, and it was early Friday morning on the north side of the city of Edmonton; and the only open clothing store was an off the tank suit store; so I went in; and received the best service I could possibly expect to receive in a store: I did not have to move, he measured everything, and chose out two suits; new shoes, belt, suspenders, and I felt great; despite having essentially been awake for two weeks during the land bridge shut down on the ice bridge to Yellowknife and was new and it was a steep learning curve: anyway, I like a three piece suit: a nice fitting one; it is my comfort clothes, because dress pants and a shirt are cooler, and lighter, and can cross different usages…I was the only realtor or broker…I was the only person in my town to wear a three piece suit…as far as I know, forever. And that doctor: If I wanted drugs, I would buy drugs; but when you have such a small world as hers was, so tight and structured, she would have very firm opinions about her knowledge of drugs; and she would know that I was just drug seeking: so she dosed me; and sent me out to face the worst Canadian paternity theft issue in history…totally stripped of any defenses by the courts, doped up with lithium and seroquel for a condition that I did not have; and beginning an odyssey with trauma that ran three, almost four years: in which the doctors consistently told me I was exaggerating and lying: and my child was stolen, my sister was murdered, and my father dropped dead in front of me with a defective pacemaker and not one word, not one, has ever been spoken to me by a single person involved in the legal shit storm of a mess those doctors created for me:

    That was not the comment I meant to make; this is a lot to do with outing trauma, reimagining it and controlling it, reliving the experience with a different perspective and a different set of parameters to define it; taking the trauma and putting it into the proper memory slots: so they don’t cause the festering wound in your brain that the thirteen years I went without proper sleep, with an impacted cerebral cortex: that went deliberately undiagnosed because my mother was in no better shape; and the lawyer knew I did not know the truth about our corporation: and the doctors…my warehouse land title owned the land the hospital stood on: my medical records were grudgingly given and took four months to arrive after they were said to be ready: they are doctored twenty two pages into the 900 page distracting document; it’s the first page really: December 12, 2017 cancels appointment with telehealth at the hospital: that’s the last entry in my medical file: because of what the doctors did to me on December 12 of course, along with two uniformed police officer and their sergeant:::constable, corporal, sergeant: who were so on the job; the day before when the corporal completely lost his cool in and obvious mental break with discipline in front of the detachment secretaries and the sergeant and two other officers: he was not instantly removed from duty as per proper protocol: he was; in fact, allowed to assault me and scream death threats in my face: and on December twelfth; I opened my eyes to see the sergeant and my daughter staring down at me; he left; and the doctors laughed and called me a drunk and wouldn’t give me pain medication and my friend sneered at me for being such an ass, and threw out my prescriptions because he knew doctoring: and my twelve year old daughter built a fort around me in the couch from my drunk driving hit and run accident I had fled the scene from: and I died…in front of the girl who has no idea that I fought for ten years just to be able to be called her dad: and the hit and run; false; charged against my mothers insurance; because mine had accident benefits; and would have paid out; which is funny because despite having workers compensation full comprehensive insurance, plus plpd insurance with accident endorsements; they suddenly did not exist and I went back to work with four broken ribs: did I mention them…or pissing blood for two weeks, or the cracked teeth, or not being able to speak, stand up straight and was slurring at the hospital: but I stank of sour wine; that’s all I could remember; and since I had no memory I plead guilty and was handed fines, maximum to the suddenly reduced charge that was not drunk driving, or even an accident; it was leaving the sight of an accident without leaving insurance: to which: how did my twenty year old ford ranger turn into a brand new foes f150; possibly the same way my fourth vehicle stolen in four years has miraculously disappeared or something because I waited three months and was told by someone whose English was so bad I could not understand her: and I can’t call the broker because I flat out know she has been selling my policies after I get the pinks for years; and the dispute mechanism to actually reach an insurance customer does not use email; and I have a disability from the untreated trauma and the beating that gives me anxiety and a ratcheting up emotional level, because I 1. Get interrupted and stopped everytime I try to speak, including trying to defend myself against a tribunal of privilege I am still smarting about and when I explain my situation…no one believes me, because it is so bad it just cannot be true: so the police complaints board in Ottawa first called the police I complained about so I got a visits. And then, I started getting arrested based on anonymous calls, drugged and hospitalized in the town 110 miles to the north: where they told them I was a degenerate criminal and a freak. And they kept me the first time for two weeks before a doctor would even speak to me: this happened twice; the third time I was having a psychotic break: and I was forcibly injected with Invega sustenna at its maximum setting dose for thirteen straight unsupervised months before begging to have it reduced as I started begging almost as soon as the drug kicked in: none of this is in my medical record; but the prescription record…from the pharmacy that I used for twenty years: reads like they are trying to kill me…the x rays and the surgical scar and the prescriptions; and my rh factor: all say the same thing I did while being called a liar: that I suffered the side effects: and they ignored me for twelve straight years and kept dosing me with haliperidol and about $1500 worth of prescriptions each month: like I said: the prescriptions is where it is at: and my scorched earth life as a result: is par for the course in what has exploded into a serious issue; a really serious one; because I was being ripped off the entire time by a group of locals using my mothers impacted state to deny me access to my own business accounts, because the lawyer knew I did it know about the trust: and now I do, and the government has had a field day with it…it uncovered the Panama papers; the famous pile of money that the tax man had been looking for for years: and before anyone really did any real verifications the various government agencies had a field day: because there was hundreds of billions of dollars in it: and when they got to the bottom; they found that it was legitimate, paid it’s taxes, and the owners were being totally screwed over by a local mortgage fraud. Run through my municipal tax office as Dunelm mortgage company; which used life insurance money meant for my mother and me to fund a failing ponzi that they were invested in and trying to scam the town on, and they used market evaluations I had done that the banks were strong arming me into providing for locals to refinance in the 2004-07 asset paper days: and for the record: I was never Dunelm Mortgage company, that’s an advertising mistake: a big one, worthy of fines, for misrepresentation and I rarely made those, and only when the local paper screwed up my awards and designations, because I was centum mortgage centers, and dominion lending services; working out of Century 21 Dunelm Realty Ltd office at box 23 1609 Acorn/Pine Plaza…grande cache Alberta Canada T0E0Y0 and therein lies the whole problem; the 69 square foot hidden room behind my secure room with its own business line and a tap into my fax line: where a real mortgage fraud was going on: for big money, not the paltry ten million or so the local mayor and council and their cooperative friendship agreement that has seen them rob this town for the entire false fifty years of its history:
    Two weeks after we bought the warehouse and had it registered at Alberta land titles: on May 12, 1996; By law 582 was passed to replace by law 487 and our addresses changed; from 10014 97 st to 10012 97 st and for the next twenty five years they were unable to fix that change; nor were they ever able to get the acorn plaza replacing pine plaza right; because of address data bases…the regulators never got our addresses right for 27 whoops 30 years: right back to when I was registered by Edmonton tax services on papers dated January 28,1992 and filed January 29,1992 where I was registered in payroll account 9999956 on the same week as gst was introduced; to 550414 AB LTD instead of my corporations 510414 AB ltd which was formed November 15,1991 on December 6 1991 and registered as Dunelm Realty Ltd of Grande Cache Alberta Canada on December 23, 2003 and I was 16, and there is a hand written note; that goes along with it in my nanas handwriting; only it was on Edmonton tax service paper and my nana was in England; and then I found more letters in my fathers things; and jock jumped out; and standard first mortgage out of west Hastings Vancouver BC used me as their front man; and stole my fathers, mine and my sisters real estate licenses because it was new legislation and we knew nothing much about the industry, we could just write exams: and we headed into the new real estate act armed as some of the first in the province; and they changed the rules around brokers licenses after dad…made it so you needed five years experience selling before you could be a broker; which served me well when I did the two year course in 17 days and paid for it twice, using classroom and correspondence and raising my daughter which included driving twelve hundred miles a month to see her: and I remember I failed one of the exams and they mocked me at the training institute; I did their entire course; that 70% of participants fail: and I did in in 17 days: and failed by like one mark on one test: the paperwork and filing; to which I sit in morose silence and tap away on my websites: blocked from transactions, flagged as fraud by my banks, because I had the effrontery of approaching my bank manager and pointing out that my mortgage paid out August 31,2002 and there was an issue: those Panama papers were the largest single collection of private wealth in the world; and my dad had it hidden in my corporation; because you hide things like that, especially when you are hidden…the Canadian CERB came from that; and I have been trying to file my t2 income tax returns for five years, because my dead sister and her husband are now listed on the business and everytime I go to the registries office to try and deal with it; I get arrested. My corporation owned that warehouse completely free of all encumbrances and liens and we had removed them physically at land titles: because I am owed a shit ton of money for that: lot A, it was never subdivided because the land is a cooperative lease agreement, with condo fees and strata; and hidden; and my dad and sister knew about it; and told the authorities: and both of them were murdered and I was institutionalized and my mother has not received an ounce of medical help since her daughter and husband died a year apart: a year after my DNA and that of my daughter were sent, along with my credit card information and PIN number; through unsecured fax from the doctors office: at least that is what the fax number says…it is a sorry state indeed when everyone around you tries to kill or bankrupt you because they are all trying to cover up the truth of the land here: and I know: it’s just a matter of getting it out there in a format that people can respect, read and understand: so I wrote a book, and my next blog post is going to love to the newest storyline in this saga: the crazy crazy part: because everything you can find attached to this site, the links to the other sites and spread around the internet has all got one surprising consistent part to it: it is all true…to my knowledge and perspective anyway, based on the information feed I have been receiving because everything I do online is controlled by my minders: it comes from being a hidden, exposed and dangling targe; for around fifteen years I think, maybe more: because who goes after a piddling 70 million in mortgage fraud in a small town: when there is 130 billion to hang on the guy; but that just imposes its will on the assets underneath me, my precise gps location and the whereabouts of my mortgage, intellectual property, copyrights and those of my family; because of the “hut,” especially but there is a patent for paint supplies; a van type pump, and music from my grandfather; the extra provincial limited partnerships that dad had licensed his license to and that I upheld and maintained until I closed my doors in a hail of slander and abuse from my town council, because they were behind all the local mortgage fraud; and I was it’s principal victim and I resigned from town council under threats to my person in the form of the lawsuits they would bring if I mentioned a word about the in camera discussions over the long running fraud in the tax system to which I was the victim not the perpetrator: I have spent three years investigating this; and have exhausted every local avenue in a fruitless chase; to point out they are still doing it; five years after my blow up; because I trapped the banks; when they attacked my wifi; my operating systems saw it; as I had precise location services on over 395 apps running, and was bouncing all over social media and my favorite (I’m blocked from) crypto exchange: and they would have seen the intrusion into my wifi; because from their side it looks like I am doing all the fraudulent dealings myself; and it is because of the infrastructure hack, and the 90 mile difference between where the bank says it is, and where it is, and what country it is in, because this little section of Alberta; is not part of Canada: it is a pre dominion estate; and it’s mine…and while I do not wish to intrude upon the pope and Trudeau having a meeting about the residential schools and the murdering that went on in them; I have to interject and call (as insensitive as this sounds I apologize) bull shit: they are using it to cover up a bigger problem; the problem with me and my stubborn insistence in trying to file my t2 income tax returns; back to 2002 because I was under surveillance the entire time in a contract service I knew nothing about: and I have been robbed pretty badly; because the Panama papers as they are known; are the proceeds that are earned by the instruments attached to the blue diamond coal corporation and while it is coal mining up here: coal stands for cooperative annuity lease corporation: an ingenious 19th century corporation owned and personal run by the four major imperial powers as their personal answer to the squalid conditions of the industrial revolution: and has attached to it the underpinning of the agreements that form North America, the Alaska deal, the Louisiana purchase, something in Florida; and was meant to fund and finance immigrants into the corporation where they would have a mortgage on their stake of land that they would mine; and work, until the retired and passed it on or sold it; at which point your annuity would kick in and you would be returned every mortgage payment you had ever made: so you had a pension, in an interest bearing annuity that grew instead of declined with retirement; it was an honest to goodness real world attempt at beating the debt cycles and the control the banks had on lending; a deliberate response to the life mortgage in Ireland, the 100 year mortgages and the various means by which the lending agencies control the wealth, and the imperials took the brunt of the bad publicity:

    It became a victim, first of the French Revolution; then of the Franco Prussian wars and then the Boer War (did I mention that the Muscovy corporations and Dutch east India corporation are included as part of the registered instruments on the title to the coal corporation…then in 1924, as a gesture of peace between the powers: my great grandfather financed an reinvigoration of the blue diamond coal corporation and someone has doctored the notes to read 1934 and not 1824/1924 due to the false land claims going on about it and the truth is, they cannot break those agreements free and plunder the over all fund; not without me…whoops…and while the Alberta government calls me insane and my locals help strangle me; my Income from sales online is blocked by the banks; because the blue diamond coal corporation also owns CN the local coal leases, and a 1000 foot tall Māori stature on 5150A and I sit on 5150 and am the type of environmentalist hippy that environmentalist hipped hippies dream about being when they think of saving tons of carbon: as in a wack ton, and am pretty pissed about strip mining an ancient civilization. On the eastern slopes of the Rockies.

    So my next post is going to be outlandish; but only to you; to me it’s about time I started publishing these photos instead of trying to enter them in competition and selling them, unsuccessfully because I cannot get the transactions to mesh with my bank; and not the months I spent on trying to get it to work; but it exposed the SWIFT code error loop; and the swifty code registration and redirection bug in the JSON security systems that the bank is using to totally screw with my Id for the past twenty years: because of where I live, in a little red and White House on the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains, on a plateau that looks down two thousand feet and up four thousand and I have been here mortgage free for twenty years plus 3 weeks and 3 days: right smack in the middle of baseline fifteen and government road at the intersections of townships 55,56,57,58 and the town engineer obviously lied about his credentials: because I don’t think you normally put a person in possession of roads: but that’s ok; I tracked the 130 billion in mortgage fraud, and you will be happy to know it was not me ripping off my father, but even happier to know it wasn’t the Montreal mob…but I will not disclose who…and I just dropped the mob here…but I am blackmailing them into lying my commission because they used my license, my brokerage, my brand identity, and they ruined my rep with it, but; more importantly; because if you are going to be arrested and tagged with the largest bank robbery in history: outside of another one, I want to be paid for it; besides; they were short on operating funds because of budget slashing and belt tightening to projects that should neither be budget slashed or belt tightened. They should be outside normal economics; because as much as I like to lambast the science crowd (see my next post) I realize that they are speaking another language, and are on the cusp of gigantic leaps; and we should be investing in our children to grasp the imagination of it all: I use literary approaches and fairytales: because nyeh nyeh nyeh nyeh; when it finally happened: it was the fairytales and legends that were right and science has been stuck on what kids today think about, and have no respect, times were better in the past and womens liberation is just around the corner; the contemporary views we have of ancient Babylonia…and we have layered so much data into them, we now believe the data is the answer to the question and the question is about us: what were we meant to do with our lives, our intelligence and the human condition…and some nice little aliens that are so far out there; it is funny that they are truly found in the fairytales…you will have to read the book to understand… on to the next post:

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