The Paths of the Dead
Here at the Center of time and space we have recently found ourselves interrupted in study of infamous holes in history where my unfortunate tale of woe has taken an infernal leap
The White Lady $AM20,USD, on Loan permanently by a Baptist minister some years ago. A dark and terrible past seeps into the bones of this oakj and her protection in the psychic realms of the digits dimension are awesome: not for those of a weak disposition, this hobnailed iron spikes heart oak, takes a bit of heft to swing. Take cash, crypto, and will package and send first class, insured. I am going to head uptown tomorrow and have it out with the banks, phones, power company etc…I own this land. TWPS 56&57… it is in my name and I have been illegally removed from its title and yet remain slave to its requirements…due to the nature of my contract; and the Templars who have selectively bred me for nine hundred years; to stand at the gates of dawn and hold back the tide…and humanity is blind; save those who bet and gamble on my survival, like patricians of old at gladiatorial games; these stand at the end of time; at the end of the universe: where we shrink down to a pinprick of matter; then explode outward in a shower of new, regrowing and hopefully I capture, or captured the essence of creativity in a nutshell…. Am firmly heading back to the land of the living, with a plan in toe, and the imprinted memories of my time on earth; which stretches 10,0000 years or so…waiting for the galactic bus to arrive and takes my little girl to school, one last time…or to read her one last story as we go to sleep for the night. and tending…and while you sleep, this sale, of the genuine magical items I hAve saved the world with; by placing it in my mind:…

The next two have a very special target buyer in mind. Don’t worry, I am sure you can afford it.

• • •

The plate is Enoch wedge wood (tunstall) is chipped in two placesSTOLEN/ nefarious cheap fucks…I kill the next fucker who comes near me or the house. one of them knocking out the signature, which, in keeping with my profession, will be of suitably bloody provenance, and rarity, these pieces, get it right and you’re on, get it wrong and you languish, but give it away, and you are a fool. once before the final glazing, a genuine fey piece, that will disturb your dreams and visit truth upon you that you did not know, nightly: in your dreams and your waking moments, the power that can be drawn from it is double edged, know that it’s attributes will give you both sides of the coin, on the fat edge. It is for sale for $5000.00 USD The coin is a police token, commemorating their years guarding the “frontier”starting in 1932 (1832…it’s all in units, names, and stations,) and continuing in a story too dark for the telling, which also brings up the 1905 maps that stand in for 1867 and represent 1909 achievements…and who was the first…not any of the principles claiming…the coin is unique…it describes a 100 mile trail…I will let it go for 1 oz Pur au or better yet… the first cop who actually arrests the guys who have been ripping off my memories and savings, because they know the police will do nothing…and if I kill them, I will be sent to an institution and drugged mercilessly, but to steal my Durham cathedrals, me…that’s too far…so I am going to sell off everything, just wait until I get to the paper…so 1oz of gold or the arrests of three people and the return of my property…I will be filling out a proof of loss, and am sure the insurance companies will not want that lithograph on their bill. The chip and the hard drive are separate line items…each contains roughly the same thing, what it is I am at sea with, what it does (not really, am waxing poetic, it’s a murderous and I mean murderous, interrogation program, that uses hypnotic suggestion to trawl your mind while it wipes your data clear of everything: it was the longest week of my life in the summer of 2018, chasing it down and taking little pieces off of it…and watched my entire network, computers, laptops, cameras, printers (with way too much information on it: that the spooky spooks should pay for) 10,000,000.00 USD, for the chip, make sure to use an isolated system on it…15,000,000.00 USD for the flash drive…again, I do not know what it contains per say…it destroys anything I plug it into..and is either next generation malware…or alien tech, either way it’s for my financing, friend, my favorite institution in the world…just think of what you could head off, by buying back that which you know belongs in the deepest pit, brought forth with the darkest magics, and set upon innocent souls, oh yeah, I saw…hence the price tags, because despite how cold and calculating insurance can be, multiplying it by orders of magnitude and pushing it into other dimensions, gives rise to maximum manufacturers value applier, a multiplier… and email me your address, or bring me negotiable instruments and we can trade…no petro dollars though…USD, GBP, Eur, AU, AG, bonds, certificates, crypto currency exchanges and accounts…this is far better by far, than us having a go to in a court of law, or in a public venue, it really is…and do not forget the stock accounts, trusts, and money market funds for fraud perpetuated by the banks onto the people while siphoning off of my families personal fortune like rapacious and raping looters, bent on mayhem., that so casually disappeared, these past fifteen years under your thumb
Those twigs look unimpressed by the faces in the clouds; I wonder why?

PS: The gems must be delivered by hand by a zuggy:…tonight. Work up the nerve. There is one more term of sale, that shall go untyped here. The cost arrives, and Shivas dancing Rug, leaves with you, fully primed and ready to go. No religion or cult should be without their prize artefact. Crypto currency is acceptable but would prefer the gems. I must write a check to my trust next.

1916, .303 England manufacture. 6, yes, that is six inspection stamps…six tours, six sets of hands and six body bags, the seventh came home. Steeped in the darkest horrors unimaginable, the true story of the Great War bleeds from its pours. As psychic defense, it puts up a ward strong enough for a batallions Color’s, all on its own. As an antique it is a wonderful talking point. 100k USD. Plus Tax…Will drop a Demi lich like it was still alive and with silver rounds is an impeccable outer planer travelling companion. $100,000.00 USD
The second curse I received in Africa, from A so called Berber Tribesman…ha…more like assassin in robes. We bartered for the sword at Sundown, in the oldest Kasbah in Morroco and struck a price as the last of the light disappeared from the sinking sun…the headsman’s sword it is; but not just any headsman’s sword…a king killer…perfect for me to carry around, rusted red with blood and giving of the most odd colored sheen in the yellow light of our dying sun. For cursed protection from the undead, it is second to none
I use these tonight as wards against the onslaught. Selectively bred for nine hundred years, I am the product of the most clandestine operation to ever exist. For want of a better term I am the Morningstar and I stand at the gates of dawn and anchor the rainbow bridge to its terrestrial mirage in our realm at 0.0, just a sliver this side of absolute. Each is an apprentice coin, each has and sees daily battle against forces that would bring on eternal night. $£666 a piece various currencies available; the last photo will contain accounts. Each will trap dozens of shadows, and each can be recharged by morning light and ritual. Do not forget ritual…a special shout out to Eire 1995, tis a special coin to me, and the three pence….heck, they’re each worth good coin just as a coin, but imbued with magics meant to protect you from the night…I have no need of them. In the course of saving the world and anchoring the bridge for the first time in millennia I made compact with the nether, the under, the dark, the nights d the dead…we made an arrangement…so far it is holding up… it’s just the powers that be that are of concern…they’ve disappeared beyond microphones, too cowardly to face the man they lied to for 47 years, enslaved, and turned the richest man in the world into a beggar…no access to the trust, not in fifteen years and cut off from my bank accounts and credit cards…blackballed and am being ushered towards an untimely end as far as they are concerned; unwilling to pay their champion his sue…Fucking Templars are bastards…I expect them to purchase that which I will hand to someone who can fuck their lives up if they don’t…if they could do me in they would, but they cannot…I am blessed that way…wit, charm, and the single most devoted mind to the disciplines of violence that has ever wasted a life…I miss my child.
  • Opening Salvo

    So….fuck you.

    Fuck you all

    You are ignorant pieces of shit
    You make me live in shame
    You defile me
    You demean me
    You debase me
    You beat me

    For what purpose
    For what purpose
    For what purpose

    To steal from me
    To abuse me
    To take whatis not yours
    To take and to murder
    To rape me


    Because you are pathetic scum
    Because you are baseline
    Because your mind is weak.
    Because you have done this to me
    For experimental data

    That you are ignoring
    That you are incapable of seeing
    That you are ignorant of

    Because you are lying to me
    Because you are lying to me
    Because you are lying to me

    With every word
    With every gesture
    With every action

    You tear my soul apart
    You murder my heart
    You rape my mind
    You accuse me
    You blame me

    For thought crime
    Thought crime you fools
    Thought crime you debased me
    For thought crime you condemn me
    For thought crime you demean me

    Ostracize me
    Go ahead,
    It is nothing new
    I am a redhead
    So it is allowed

    The church says so
    The schools say so

    Your completely corrupt government full of imbeciles sayso.

    You deserve to fucking die
    You sold my DNA
    Your pigs did
    Your doctor’s did
    You filthy fucking scumbag politicians did

    Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you

    This phone is useless. Just like my country is useless
    My citizenship is useless
    The so called charter of rights is useless
    This place sickens me

    They do not do a single thing I ask
    Call me delusional at the same time harmless and friendly to

    Keep this too…it’s my homage to metal spoken word. Wait till I get Sunday morning or my bateaux finished.

    Do I get the black and yellow lion….I already have him tattooed to. My back…it is a simple shield and a simple knights seat…

    So: the RCMP, CSIS, Government of Alberta, MD of Greenview 16, conservative caucus, the US navy, Royal Air Force, Suffolk and cold lake, along with every major tech designer or program writer, further to telus, metis land claims, uneacom, CIBC, ATB, MBNA, BMO, td, Royal, Servus as well as Wells Fargo…

    I don’t know why I keep writing this stuff down, no one will believe it in a thousand years but who cares, it makes for an awesome story no matter how it came to be; whether in collaboration with the singularity and next generation software and hardware manipulations, or first contact utilizing telepathy, dopamine and synapse manipulation in order to communicate their desires for peaceful communications and trade. Or maybe I am just making the whole null point up, and am a mentally disturbed man suffering from a schizoaffective disorder that renders me unable to tell the difference between the multiple dimensions of the spectrum that I am seeing in…in between hospital stays when they arrest you without due cause and hospitalize you because not one person has lifted a finger to acknowledge a single one of the myriad of identity issues that surround me….not by choice.

    And it is disconcerting to discover that your own government has sold you down the river in favor of ripping you off and laughingly playing to the diagnosis in terms of judge,ent and totally ignoring in terms of application of the delineation of labour that I am still rendering out in the vaguest of hopes that I will be able to have my little issue rectified to the highest and best possible use of finding someone like me…hiding in plain sight amongst the common masses of western Canada…so common that no one acknowledges or accepts any culpability, or care of culpability in the murderous application of cyber terrorist strategies against my family and myself, utilizing the most bankrupt of possible entry points and quite literally sticking the spear in without me ever knowing that my own government wants me dead.

    Hence the ranting and the raving and the angry attacks at our so called professional standards and practices that were worthless garbage and not worth the paper they are written on…

    I just read the introductory poem…it nails it right on the head…sums up what these corporate mercenaries did to me and my family…while forcing me into regulatory help amidst the complete repudiation of the rule of law.

    Mainly I am pissed because they used trauma, my child, and my child is going to far by a whole long mile.

  • (no title) New one, not for the faint of disbelief
  • Up Helly Aa: A pagan ritual redone, reimagined, and reaffirming the fact that I live on the bleeding edge. This is my favorite…I took it from a video I shot on January 26 of this year. There has been no doctoring of the photo in any way. This is because there is a singular belief in this world and time that is completely in opposition to the realities of our lives, world and purpose. And is also super cool. An impossibility captured in a digital format…I wonder what the code looks like.
  • (no title)
    Check out my NFT! Shared via
    This Guy is a forward scout. I love his dog. He is super unimpressed with me seeing him.
  • I have a little posit

    Soooooo….for my rabid fan base of numbers so high they don’t register on the counter. Yes…I am that good. Check out my site, it is so….half finished, but full of witty repartee and stories to curl your toes, not to mention controversy due to my one sided diet with the pope (he hasn’t responded yet to my demand for a rematch of whitby back in 646 AD) but I persevere…maybe I should stop using the term vampyre so much to describe the old priesthood, but I just can’t help myself. But on to more important items for the coming holiday seasons agenda, and the year anniversary of my I’ll fated decision to build some online shops and businesses, what with the fall out that occurred that shall be covered in more detail in a later chapter of my epic called Book 4…in space.

    It’s alive…it’s alive

    As follows: add photos to my page postings headers to make the magazine look complete. I must admit to being very fond of the theme and would upgrade it if my wallet, debit cards, credit cards passport and daughters passport and birth certificate (pieces of shot) along with six phones, a laptop a tablet and however other many pieces were nicked along with my Jeep (returned after being held hostage by the fuzz for six months) my mothers car (towed by the county who knows where because they are totally out to get me(( this is true by the way…my own regional government…murderous scum)) but I will get there and then the stories might make more sense…especially the aliens, and the gigantic spiders fishing for fifth dimensional slugs that are pouring through a breach pretty much over my head. The threat is highly over rated…they’re fishing.

    Up on the ridge

    Clean up the house, it’s a mess…due to the latest go around with the mercenary storm troopers who refuse to take statements from me but are overly fond of starting a record of “how many times we can arrest a man for yelling at them and sticking him in a hospital 110 miles from home for no fucking reason except they are dumb as I am a terrorized hostage behind enemy lines in an occupied country and need two guns and a black visa police officers who are too stupid to understand that I am yelling at them because I am the fuckiNg victim and not a freaking criminal. But I have the special education department ent detachment in my town…and believe me, idiots r us is not a happy and friendly half hour comedy show…it’s juiced up morons that are fun happy, steroid happy, and beating the shit out of red heads happy…hope you like that top cop…enjoy the read and persuade the site, I am sure I have made enough accusations to arose your attention to the matter that I know who what when where and how you ass.

    This is a better way to calculate time

    Part two: publish, publish, publish the most shockingly violent attack on the credibility of the whole…insurance banking police government political hack party sell out murdering bastards kicking me in the teeth for thirty years of experimentation, black magic rituals, human sacrifice and more…all here at the null point…where it is just one great big happy family of aliens, ghosts, the dead, and whatever the I am a terrorized hostage behind enemy lines in an occupied country and need two guns and a black visa just banged the side of my house…I wonder if that is third dimensional and uniformed, or fifth dimensional and quite possibly a demon…it is that time of month again, they don’t seem to mind that it’s minus freaking thirty. You’d think alien invasions would be like…noooooo it’s too chilly, let’s torture the sacrifice tomorrow when the sun comes out..

    I just spent 16 days banged up…there won’t be a record…nice eh…

    I should really erase that, but I am not going to. It’s true, and while I was cleaning up, I found a failure to appear in court on the floor…well of course twit…you arrested me, Jesus.

    This is the gods honest truth: I have never committed a crime in my life beyond being a pot head and it’s legal here. But since I turned 43 (that’s right, over the hill and middle aged) I have been arrested five times, beaten by a cop almost to death and my latest incarceration involved four peace officers beating the shit out of me so a nurse could inject me with anti psychotics. I do not have a personality disorder. Jesus h fucking Christ….but not one person will listen to a word I say and just keep ratcheting up the drugs and the incarcerations. I get really nervous and babble when the cops show up…this is apparently good enough to label me a criminal mastermind and responsible for what? What the I am a terrorized hostage behind enemy lines in an occupied country and need two guns and a black visa are you guys doing this to me for….I will now make a guess….because you all hang out at the curling rink…where my name is mud due to the nice guy being a clinically diagnosed psychopath and my daughters step father, as well as his sosciopathic mother accusing me of raping her 17 years ago…to which…I did not. I was fucking her for years. And in that particular go around she would come to me at my office during lunch hour and we would screw…she got pregnant….and stole my kid…which is…RAPE…which I PROVEDin ten years of having my ass handed to me by the court of queens bench who COMPLETELY IGNORED the FACT that 1. I did not get a thirty year old woman drunk and rape her when she was passed out…fucks sakes man…thirty, grow the I am a terrorized hostage behind enemy lines in an occupied country and need two guns and a black visa up….2. I did not falsify the birth certificate….I SUED HER for PATERNITY THEFT three weeks after my daughter was born. ISPENT 250,000CAD just getting my name on the birth certificate. SHE ABANDONED My little girl with me after she got bored of moving and running away with my daughter and at age six she came to live with me full time because her mother was and is a dead beat sack of Shit who has never paid a dime for her child, nor has the deadbeat sack of shit psychopath who never gets mentioned in court because you “don’t do that in my pantomime of bullshit called the useless court of Queens BENCH in ALBERTA which makes me sick to my very core because during the 42.5 months of the first four years of Katelynn’s paternity THEFT case my SISTER was murdered and her drunk driving paid off good old boy killer walked away laughing in the courtroom, and my father dropped dead three months after having a dodgy pacemaker installed in him a month after the courts told him his daughter wasn’t worth piss (fuc right off minder pig…this little article is going many different places so just sit back and enjoy the fact that I can write this out freestyle, with every single word I say verifiable, truth, and I do not give two rats asses of a Lincoln penny (yeah buddy I gots me a special one called…I don’t need money and am going to wreck you over money because, and this is for the record…I have spent five years trying to get through to a professional service that is capable of understanding that I am willing to settle all of these issues outside of a courtroom in what is called Torte…the common law belief (law) that indicates Injuria Sine Damnum is in play and that your mercenaries actions have only enraged me…because the insurance fraud comes complete with fax cover sheets, and the title insurance fraud, and the land title fraud, and the surveyors fraud, and the mortgage fraud some dumb pig at RCMP headquarters overheard me talking about with too much close hitting information and put the null hypothesis to work*

    *For those of you reading this two quick points: the null hypothesis is assuming guilt, wherein there is absolutely not a shred of evidence to support said guilt, so therefore guilt is assumed.also….this bit is for whoever (dead eyed freak) coughed up the whole…”how does he know this…” newspaper articles ya twit…AND, and this is my favorite part….because I am the moron who contacted Transunion and Equifax and said….”I think my office Wi-Fi has been compromised and I had access to you guys…along with the uniform code of accounts for the entire banking system…as well as trying in vain for years to being said malicious codes to the attention of the special education department of the RCMP, better known as grande cache Alberta….as for figuring out how they did it…I am smart that way…and an idiot because I stupidly tracked it back thirty years to when I was sixteen and guess what….a cop, yeah that’s right, a cop….and Edmonton tax services did me dirty on January 28, 1992.

    Before I go back to ranting….I was sixteen Fucking years old you asshiles and you’ve fucked me for thirty years. This is not a civil matter

    This is a serious as I am a terrorized hostage behind enemy lines in an occupied country and need two guns and a black visa criminal code matter that involves people being murdered for christs sakes. Shit, they make movies like this all the time…that one with George Clooney and the flash car…where he is a lawyer (fixer) for class action suits…really good film, anyway….this is totally it except instead of a class action suit by thousands of victims being given cancer…it is one surviving ceo of a tiny family (shut up you in the back, I was the front man, how the hell did you expect me to know….I did figure it out eventually) real estate business and we are now all eradicated, dead, dead, mindless and me…fully functioning, ptsd suffering emotionally unstable from years of abuse but; fully cognizant of a certain set of facts that make you lot look really, reall, really bad if it should ever become public knowledge.

    Not my ranting, you have me dead to rights there…my creative writing is so evil that it contains bad words that are just too hurtful for any of your staff to every single time I try, completely judge and dispute my disability. My disability does not make me an idiot though….like you and your people.

    You see…I’m not one for seditious behaviour…I am actually a fiscally conservative (try it, it would go a long ways to explaining the “how in the hell has he managed to survive our whithering attacks so long….oh wait, did he mention yet five years since I figured it out…would you pay your taxes? No you wouldn’t, not when they are all bullshit false charges. I am one for sorting out my little issue…it is not my fault that you and yours screwed the pooch so royally that I very much doubt that the aristocracy of Canada is going to appreciate it when it becomes certain knowledge that there are two separate states within this country…and that laws and democracy apply to the few…at the cost of me…other people too but this is my personal revolution since I can’t get a single freaking moron (this is possibly why) to do their freaking sworn oaths of service, and instead rely entirely on gossip and innuendo, such as the conversation I had with two doctors and an administrator yesterday in which I was assured wholeheartedly that my medical situation is confidential and that my drug and alchohol addiction make me schizophrenic according to the written words scrawled in big grade one style letters in one sentence as doctors rely entirely on their egos and the information provided by my emotional estrangement, because fucked if any of them are going to believe me because…holy shit, we are perfect….people would never make mistakes like this….

    You are correct sir, people would not ever make mistakes this big…which means…premeditated. Now: the reason why I am willing to settle this for gigantic wads of wealth in the forms of currencies and crypto currencies and stocks and bonds is because…I want my freaking assets back you thieving sons of bitches. And because: dragging you into my world would destroy you, as public would lose faith in the system altogether.

    Yes…I know that people expect the system to I am a terrorized hostage behind enemy lines in an occupied country and need two guns and a black visa them. They expect their politicians to lie….they expect the police to be bumbling idiots too…except for apparatus citizens….they believe…they believe their bosses aren’t lying. They believe what they’re taught in school. They believe that wars happen in far off places and spooks are a show on tv. They do not believe that their government tells the truth but do believe it is for the best of the peoples (read that again…then again….snicker)…And that one angry man is not going to change the system, because the system is omnipotent (if you have to look that up, I am sorry you got this in your inbox****

    ****Did I mention inboxes…do you know how big my contact list is…not counting the census you twits…that was census people fucking up, not I but maybe I will dabble…no need, if you are reading this, there is a point…a big fucking hairy balled point and it’s about time I made some of it known.

    But first comes the absolutely fabulous section of this latest word construction and it segways into the Templars…yes, ai am now ignoring my perpetual whining in favor of discoursing on the Templars…because if one is going to have a revolution from one’s bed, one must be fully prepared to bring to the table a selection of story telling that absolutely takes dessert first place with the addition of a chapter on the Templars…eat your hearts out spy novelists…you’re all wrong about them.

    They are completely hidden from the view of the secret society templar knights…but I don’t think that the free masons realize this…because there is only one Templar knight…me, because part and parcel with achieving the rank is a mastery of travelling the outer planes, achieving transcendence states, astrological and astroteleportations, etc….what I mean is you have to be time traveling, which I am doing aren’t I and not only am I the only temple knight in the world right now…we are so freaking hidden from view that it is impossible to really break the line of disbelief that greets such an outlandish claim. That I am the a knight Templar but I need to no further than the palatine of Durham, it’s history and it’s connection with my family tree, as well as dna pool to the most enjoyable of historical journeying as can be imagined.

    Fairie caught in amber

    And god decides, not you, or a secret society of hierarchy. Templars are open, honest, disciplined, and very austere and strict. The prince bishop would have been the political appointe to oversee the order but it is the fighting monks of. Cuthberts Lindisfarne monks and Cuthberts swords shed light on the idea that Lindisfarne was the source of the famous Cuthbert swords and it was after weaponry that the sixty odd man three ships crew of adventure Rus took on his roaming days. me…leaf….Halfdan….fairhair….Bluetooth….I must have either been Rus or his uncle or something…the old man maybe…anyway, not to smack the free masons around but I’m going to smack the free masons around for not noticing that Dunelm realty Ltd is intrinsically tied to Durham cathedral which is intrinsically tied to…Aidan Tudom and Cuthbert and Bede, the gospels of Lindisfarne and conversion of the local population to Christianity and also all attested military miracles and war footing based martyrdoms, hence the shroud of Cuthbert. The battle flag of Durham, the falchion, the story of Oswald’s head, and goddodin god Odin and pre dating Norse influence but not Anglo Saxon and cumbric arising out of the remains of, ultimately, the baby on the stolwith plain in the wake of the massacre of the Carvetti and the subsequent suicide of seventy thousand Carvetti, woatini, and brigantes soldiers in a blood ritual in which they condemned themselves to a hell of torment in order to be present at the event that would rectify the hurt and the pain that ripping out the heart of the Celtic nation had achieved when destroying the source of the magic and the source of the druids…in a mayriarchical military based, multi grouping of the ideology best described as those of prophets. Red haired…blue eyed…tracing my path back to the Iberian fisherfolk who predated the Celtic takeover of britain whereupon they arrived with their horned god and made war upon what is now known as the fae and they stopped their war because they were tearing the world apart with magics…and the fae walked into the Tor that Durham cathedral sits on…and thorshead with the rock, and other tors but the sacredness and holiness of the Tor at Durham dates back somewhere around ten thousand years and is home to those humans who have a more concentrate collection of dna that is describing to the oldest of antiquities races and that their great thinkers had the prayers and rituals and dances down pat that kept one in harmony with the seasons and stages of the world and our journey amongst it. The fact is I am inordinately pleased to have been allowed to track back through my ancestry and discover who and what I am. No wonder I am a pacifist….I have to kick the shit out of bad guys all the time…just like in the movies, only I truly am incapabale of offering violence to anyone in a twisted up ethos of goodness and sparing the, and prayer…like me…really…Templar priest…ecclesiastical equal to the Pope and supercedes in times of warfare. I’m super orthodox…but you would never notice…Irish school, Protestant evolution….it was the Protestant reformation that probably got us busted back then but there are really strict rules to define a knights Templar and they are screaming hard.

    So there will be more of you though…and it’s totally possible that the secret society nwo or Freemasons are in fact the best to become actual knights, there are none but me, and we are really very hereditary about it. But there will be some of you…it’s not really voluntary either which brings up….the jackal is my hit, the states owe me fifty million in reward dollars…Dublin 1996…he got wacked for not killing me walking through the neighborhood…he was ira. That’s in like flint…want my rewards. And to sell my coin collection.

    I am ascendant attestestee, sanctified and anointed of god, I am knight of the Temple of aged., a dragon, a fairy, king of the fairies…who likes to date fairies, so that makes me a fairy dating fairy…does anyone want to engender a humorous response to how much I do not give a shit about that hitting my masculinity….I’ve seen the freaking Big Bang…I see, process and hear the stories of the dead, I have gleaned such secrets as to shatter our preconceived and totally enjoy doing it because it’s actually really cool, and involves the singularity.

    That makes all that money mine. And the other pile of money…and the other pile of money….and the crypto money pile….lots of piles….I am a terrorized hostage behind enemy lines in an occupied country and need two guns and a black visa so totally true…people of the deer, people of the horse….y…and warded man. I own the eighteen runes of Odin, the nine songs, still looking for number one though, but when you’ve got a first contact as big as this, it is only fair to let me spend inordinate amounts of money on inordinate dreams like the space elevator we are going build, the gateway and trains and archeology and follow from there.

    You can find this on open sea soon…make an offer, it’s pretty …that’s what I should do. I have a bunch.
  • (no title) Four stories, plus an alien tree elf, I think oak
  • Christmas Day is AD 0.0 and that makes it Easter, Jesus was crucified on December 21 and raises (resurrects) at dawn on Odin Day. Also Sunday…the day the sun begins to move against the horizon after three days of no noticeable movement.
    A collage of clues, that lead to an eight day week, the location of the Templar Treasure, repudiation for the church of the crusaders and the sale of Cyprus because Richard I had a child out of wedlock, so the church bankrupted him and took the child, raised it and bred it and sacrificed it…for 900 years
  • (no title) Short story fare, about bosses who shouldn’t be bosses
  • This one is out of Left field, maybe just a little bit…peer review 101…the basics:

    So when I start to hammer on someone’s ideas, I generally am aware enough to stop myself making an ass out of myself, but not always, and remember saying things too quickly and too negatively for a long time, so I am fully prepared to take it on the chin for this post…not any of the other ones; they’re part of a cunning plan…this one is the plans fruition, and I really hope someone actually reads this but; copyright protected by me saying so, and I think it is an awesome idea, slash history essay, slash, is he full of it or what. N equals everything is true to the point of truth being a perspective and anything being possible but;

    I believe I have solved the mystery of the great pyramid, who forged the Viking swords, The VigViser as more than a symbol,, and a new way of keeping time aka the ancients calendar…of eight days, and I believe we can use it as a new form of time, and time keeping, that is more accurate, as well as I believe that I can also calculate a more accurate speed of light, using the ancients methods…I say ancients because…it was the ancients. And in keeping with loudly proclaiming:

    I have found a buried civilization, right out my back door, in front of the thousand foot tall Māori statue that I can see from my window, and it, along with ten different ruins that I have found, also lead to:

    The fae…they are real, they have been following me around since I was at least twenty one…and they came to tell me about;

    The aliens. And we got to chatting about humanity, and what it means to be human, and who we are, think we are, and what our purpose is.

    I did the learning, and told stories…for quite a long time, and in that I learned, and it was astounding, that our history is full of holes, gaping wide holes, where once there was a civilization, and it alarmed me, and then the Ukrainians and Russians started fighting over the Crimea and I thought to myself…oh shit. And then NATO started talking and they are a 2% GDP commitment, and I thought…oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…and then they started talking about alliances and agreements and well…I panicked a bit, here on the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains, in a little rednecked northern mountain town, on a plateau, as far from anywhere as you can get…and nobody noticed that our gas went up 1/3 because of the shortages created by the war, the day before hostilities started…and that seemed awfully familiar to me…”we were never at war with Eurasia, we were always at war with east Asia,” and I thought…”@#$& ass, shit, @#$&…oh my god no” And I really panicked because I just could not accept the facts as they were presenting, and I could not accept a future for my daughter having this happen to it. This being the virtual guarantee of escalation leading to nuclear conflict…it was being discussed at water coolers across North America…casually, like it was going to be an awesome light show…and not us being reduced to cannibals and dying by the billions…yes, this is what I was thinking…and I thought, what could I do, as one person, in the middle of the supposedly safest place on earth, where there was little to no, anything, that would register on the UNs benchmarking of ambient standards of living, noise pollution, methane, tritium…you know, things that no one thinks of or looks at, just like none of us really look at our surroundings unless they are new, and we are on vacation.

    I was also very depressed, and suffering from very debilitating Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, that I was working with by writing, and practicing for writing, because I wanted to write a book; but now I was interrupted by the fact that I had come to believe that Mr Putin and Mr Zelinski were not on the same page when it came to nuclear weapons…in that, Mr Putin said “sure,” and I shivered. The ultimate bluff…the willingness to play it out…scary AF. So I came up with a plan…I was going to do something to win back my daughters love…I was going to drag the worlds media attention away from the war, escalating it with talk of genocide and graphically describing matters best left for the written words of sober minded journalists…to the hearty support of bored pandemic survivors everywhere…out of the frying pan and into the toxic sludge…and I was going to galvanize the planet on something… I didn’t know what, I was only strategy playing a mal adaptive coping mechanism for shell shock, daydream loops, to keep the mind occupied…and mine needed occupying. Why I came to think this…oh wait, I know why…why I came to be so upset, was because I thought that if there were two groups of people who really did not need to add to their list of war dead, it was the Ukrainian and Russian people, because I have a big soft spot for them.

    So here was the plan…write a best selling novel, and win the global photo awards with my ultimate secret weapon…a photo I took in 2015, July 15, shortly after being released from the hospital, for going berserk and beating the ever loving spit out of a house, and then all my windows too…because the red eyed Korred from the Isle of Man had been dropping huge hints that he was coming for me, and me, being me, had spent months researching it and had come to the awful conclusion that I was a dead man, unless…one were to somehow rediscover why the bear shirts of the Viking age went berserk, how they did it and what would be the benefit…and I had succeeded…so well that no one has spoke to me since I got out of the hospital on July 5, 2019 and while still clearly sick, and mentally incapacitated, as I had been for years, I had signed and spent a small fortune on bills that had turned out to be a fraudulent attempt to bankrupt me; but by 2019 I knew this, and had tried, really I had tried to bring it to the attention of the authorities…and one beat the crud out of me.

    After the best selling novel and photograph wins, I would accidentally disclose my daughters DNA, and then the who,e world would either mock us, or totally freak out…and since I was pretty sure about the DNA (how many times can you wake up in the morning and think…”someone is trying to kill me,” and not gain an insight or two…I was banking on DNA and freaking out…and I absolutely knew that it would at least put a dent into people shooting each other over land, that is mine. So the photograph was a hoarded secret til the beginning of this year, because I was really uncertain about what my local province would do with it, since the site I took it on was a remains of site from the 1980’s which was a secret blow up the wall of fossils job done by executive decision makers, who did not want to lose a weeks production, and when you are on a Canadian five year plan, lord knows everyone has to work their standard 60 hrs plus travel time to and from, because the stupider we work here, the more money we have to borrow against, and the deeper in debt we go…living the dream.

    I had shown the photo to a number of people, and they just nodded, and said…”oh yeah, it does,” and I would think about my daughter and cry, because she would have seen it, my ex wife would have mocked it, I am sure…”there is no such thing as dragons,” well, I sure thought it was a dragon to me, and an owl, and a turtle, and a baby being born…I had looked at it a lot. Amateur shot, from a phone…but wow. And then contests…because the judges are looking hard at each photo…they would see. And that was the initial plan…that exploded, and now I think I have every clandestine agency on the planet interdicting my internet, providing me with a false face of sites, 3 hrs, 30 minutes, and seven days out of whack with time, uploads, real-time transactions, and historical feed…I mean, it’s been the same ads for three years…no wait…five, ever since…no wait…2008, or was it 2002…or July 26, 1978…which makes me mad. But I did manage to break out with my contest photo and by the time my minders knew it, I had reached the internet of things with NFTs, webstores, social media sites, a WordPress, Picfair, wixite, Shopify…and they shut me down…all the way down, and put the hurt on me something fierce, trying to bankrupt me and boy did I ever feel sorry for myself…that was in May…and I have played run and gun and post and confound my captors, to the best of my ability since…and I win. I survived so far anyway…there is a little bit of an issue relating to the dragons, unicorns, aliens, clouds, devils, demons, hell, heaven, outer planes, ascendants and overal dramatics personae of the Fae…they have kept me so busy, all my minders did was watch and make bets on what type of P schizophrenic episode I was having each day…but there was a purpose…to get the media attention off the war and on to having the shit scared right out of them…like HG wells did, only different see…because my version had real aliens, real fae, real dragons, and real gods in the sky, and real god and real, so real that I was mind blown each and every single day for a full year. And am almost homeless; but that is okay…I have them, whoops PTSD digression…the whole take the banks to the river and drown them in their own paperwork and win…is another task…and when I was done, I had put together a rather large offering of fare for my blogs and webpages except for the yelling and screaming and ranting and screaming some more, as the aliens and I discussed our respective stories…

    But that is what the posts and pages are for, for you to get to know them, the aliens…they’re pretty good people, not the demons and devils though, except for a few named Steve, and the whole, let’s get together and save the universe thing was really out there…have you seen googles art…you should, it’s amazing.

    This, overly long introduction is because I am nervous, not about calmly explaining that faeries are real, and not to be trifled with…but because I am going to make claims and try to justify and back them up, with science…actually with a drawing that is not quite finished yet but almost..possibly good enough so here goes:

    If you divide a circle in 24 equal parts into 288 degrees, you get a pie of 3.5 if you count up, and 72 degrees on the right angle…each of those 24 pieces is further divided into 3 equal pieces of the pie…so 72 four times with 72 overall, for 288, created by 3 X 4 lines per piece that make 3 rays of light from a wheel, or rather, the rainbow.

    Now…add in the VigViser of the Eldar futhark with 24 runes made out of three aetts, freyjas, heimdalls, and Tyrs each representing an aspect or cluster of two sets of three plus two (amplifiers) for 18 and six as in 3,6,18,9,6,3,…the eighteen runes of Odin…there are eighteen gods in the Eldar futhark (including giants) and six lesser such as sleipnir the horse, the ox, joy, wealth…, and each is used to make up more complex runes, well…if you take them in and at a face value…18 6 is 3 of 4 and we are back at 3 in four ….

    Now comes the Hut…this is what my father named it in his little notebook, where he dutifully completed each week with a discipline I have never had, it’s earnings…because he had first grab at and had, registering it…because he always to,d me about the guy in Sunderland England who had invented the lightbulb before Edison but had not gotten to the registrar in time…and that reminded me of my little registrar issue with my identity and my non existence in the third dimensional world of earth, being as I live in the land of the middle of nowhere where you freeze to death in the winter without your home.

    The hut is the home symbol…the little house you click on, and it is a triangle on top of a square, inside a circle, with overhanging eaves to gain ratios and fractions, and it is also…wait for it…the gatehouse to the rainbow bridge…and I am also claiming that I not only know it is the rainbow bridge, I can also fit the colorwheel into my 288 degrees…Roy g biv with an added B for Berkana, or birth…at 0…Brown…the dark brown of a black cat…it is the next level after the chakra crown, it is the ether I guess…dunno really haven’t stopped plane hopping long enough to digest the astral reality of the astral plane being as real as that…look out behind you, it is Trevor, the huge massive billowing…oh wait, you can’t see Trevor, ignore me, there is not a large ball of nitrogen looking over your shoulder at your phone…don’t be silly…that would be like me saying I can prove fairies exist in the first thirty seconds of the first minute (26 seconds, don’t forget that) of the soon to be no longer used 24 hr seven day week, 365 year…because we have never measured our time correctly…and Ano Domini, A D Odin Dawn…December 25, and that is the freaky part…in 1532 (+/-)* they had a meeting of high officials, and they got together and had a secret meeting, then they talked about time…and they adopted the Gregorian calendar from the Roman calendar, standardized by Ceasar and Augustus during the most tumultuous time in history. And they backed it up in records to the sixth century Synod at Whitby, where they discussed on which day Christ was crucified, what lent meant in terms of sin and salvation and baptism (by fire), and it was between the Irish school of the Christian faith (hey you, you boy, in the back with the red hair…pay attention, this is important, actually it is, and profoundly so at that, and probably deserves better treatment than I am giving it but, I am my own, non denominational, attested, invested, Templar Knight, sanctified under god, and am not messing about with this subject, just it’s delivery;

    The Roman school of thought won out, and once they had finished brushing the hair on the heads of those who lost the debate, and snarling at each from over the fence, Cuthbert went off to an island as a hermit he was so mad, and Lindisfarne is never mentioned again, until Charlemagne’s court in 800 AD…and that is about all they talk about, and there will be some bishop, cardinal, secret society of temple knights in my hometown at my cathedral which is…mine hooray it’s my favourite…and there is such a ruddy great hole in that story, that I went back to it again and again and again, until I had ferreted out a history so far removed from our own records, that I used fantasy and science fiction, along with aliens dragons and fairies to describe to and talk about…the fact that…I am probably sitting where Jesus was crucified…at 0.0 15.1 am wondering what happened to the eighth day, why lent means long day, why did they take Cadwalladr with them when they left, and why is it that it looks like I have been getting the Royal treatment beyond the …I should break, this is a l9ng story…in short though, I’ve drawn ninety percent of it…and it’s right, and that there are eight colors in the rainbow bridge, plus points of weight, that will add up to a more accurate method of keeping a free flowing time moving forward…because we are not, 7-8 7 of 8 7 over 8 8 over 7 even has a symbol, I shall look for it…so many of the Christian symbols are actually pagan, and no, it is not just names taken from, it is philosophies, and science and art and…and Odin is Santa, and this story will take a while, have a bunch

    Just some good old cursingin the weave of my cheques

         Dr. Devilla:


    I take your decision to double the dosage of my prescription on Invega sustenna from 50 mg to 100 mg as a most disheartening turn of fortune for me and a most serious set back in my treatment. I feel that there was a rush to judgement based off of my emotional response to your questioning of my mental state and referencing that we had spoken once about PTSD.


         First off: I get extremely nervous at Drs and doctor appointments and my anxiety shoots through the roof. This is a symptom of the very severe PTSD that I suffer from. Symptoms that have had a noticeable reduction in occurrence over the last six months and have had a discernible improvement in my outlook and demeanour. I feel that my emotional response to your queries is and was entirely justified in the scope of the setting at hand.

         I had given notice the month prior that I wanted off the shot and grudgingly took it because zi had not heard from you. Then you called me, with no scheduled time and ask me questions that set me off emotionally and then double my dosage; this seems to be inappropriate to me and certainly unnecessary in the face of my day to day life and activity which are in no way deviant from those of my peers and neighbours and has not been a single day since I got out of the hospital and is certainly not going to change now.


         I feel that my actual mental health issues are going completely ignored in favour of maintaining a drug regimen that I have had noticeable negative side effects to since it’s inception.


         I do not wish to belabour the point with unnecessary words but feel it is necessary to repeat myself for impacts sake and because repetition helps my mind with its memory problems that are pretty prominent.


         I have suffered significant side effects from the medication, including weight gain, sluggishness, sleep problems, and more besides. But it is difficult to give you objective symptoms that do not stray into the over exaggeration of a manic episode so I will leave them at that suffice to say that there were and are more side effects from the medication.


         I have had significant mental health issues over the past 2 ½ years that were dismissed as what I do not know it ai have made my pervasive depression known for many months with no movement to deal with it.


         There were significant withdrawal issues with the drug when the dosage was reduced. But there were very positive changes in my physical and mental well being when the dosage was dropped. Benefits that have carried on to this day and would be a major aett back for me if you were to set me back in my treatment.


    I am having difficulty maintaining a stoic demeanour in this letter because I feel that I have been completely shunted off to the side and ignored while going through a major mental health battle and now that I am feeling better Johnny come lately doctor wants to set me back years because I showed emotion to my shrink who hasn’t bothered to schedule a single fucking therapy session with me but thinks everything is ducking fine.?


    I do not know whether to jump entirely back 16 years to my diagnosis unjust beginnings or to my current state of heightens oversight where each of them bear merit: so I will mention that there were 4 hospitalizations, the fourth I do not dispute, but there is no arrest record for any of them and the first two were completely disproportionate responses to the events that they were purported to be while at the same time downplaying events that should have been receiving the attention they deserved.**** you, I’m not talking. It’s irritating enough that my phones are ******* tapped. The you ******** have been listening to me for how long? People are scum. There’s no indication whatsoever in the bathroom things out. Proportion, except for those survey trails. There’s no organization is going to agree to it. Admit to it. In the next time, you *******. You ******* ******** ******* Doctor has a fiduciary duty to their client. You have sworn also service to listen. To take them seriously and to believe them. That has not been accorded me in 16 years. You were just taking your opinion and judged me. I am so upset because of the filthy ******** that you doctors are making me live through. ******* scum.

  • Concrete wasteland
  • Freaky Fridays are My Favorite
    So am just a little bit upset, just a little bit fried, and just a little bit concerned about my list of duties and responsibilities as I am sold like a dog and anyone who is of the wealth First percent are allowed to pay the church for the right to rape my mind, and enjoy a little ride down the old who the fucking hell does he think he is, and why does he get so mad, he is just an animal after all, a slave, and a debtors salve to endless generations to which I am held accountable and god says every pig one of them gets to go, except for me…this is why I yell and scream at you all, because god says I have to give grace to all of you, and not kill anyone, and stay good, and toss all my life in the gutter for you pig scum…so stop acting like you mean anything more than nothing to me, and get some damned help going on, before I say to hell with it and the next time I am in that universe, I will drag you all into the oblivion of having your mind splayed…after it has been raped…
  • A little bit of free form

    I know this is a fantasy trope

    That my stories are a fusion of insanity inducing terror, a war of the worlds and a journey of man coming to grips with the past present and future in what appears to be either a real life breakdown, a delusional nightmare from out of centre left field and an angry distribute free form poetic attack on the system that seems to make little linear sense; so I thought I would add a few comments of an editorial nature, a sort of sum up of my storyline because I have reached a point where this is all going to make sense, and I would hate for my audience to miss the funnest part of the show.

    The funniest parts always make you cry the hardest when it hits you in the middle of the night, you know; that time when exhaustion is finally taking hold and allowing you to shut out the various hallucinations that cascade through your visual cortex in their invasive maneuvering behind your eyeballs, sometimes cartoony, sometimes reminding you of a music video and sometimes looking just like you would expect, if what you expected came straight out of a midsummer nights dream. I call it hallucinating the fey and have numerous examples on this, and other sites… and the that explore the Byzantine creations my mind spawns, my poor, over worked and over stretched mind, whose brain never stops, morning moon or night.

    I had two rcmp officers at my home last night, young, pretty women with guns, it was the most pleasant and engaging conversation I have had in five years. They were looking for a statement on my issue with two indigenous brothers who have been terrorizing me; they did not listen to much of what I said, choosing instead to go through the reams of messenger messages from them, having been trained like doctors in this day and age, to discount anything said by their victims and focus only on objective facts. Which upset me, because scattered around my house is the detritus of a three year investigation into my own corporation that has had me devoting 17 hours a day to it and my creative expression for the past 37 months, 365…I have nothing else you see, it is not mania, it is what an empty man does to fill the hours to keep hope alive, until exhaustion gives me a couple of hours of fitful sleep. What makes me sad is that not one person has reached out a helping hand or a soothing voice in over five years, after fifteen years of a conspiracy of criminal abuse rendered me down to nothing and by nothing I mean total negation; and after three years of investigation, what do I find; it was a deliberate set up, a strategy of murder and my heart breaks again for my child, who I have not seen, or heard from in over a year, because every one else can go fuck themselves, my daughter matters more to me than any fortune you might steal, and the powers that be refuse me every right, every courtesy because they are fucking guilty as sin; but they hound me to prove their political enemies guilt, and make vague promises of redemption and return, then they stimulate me with unending horror and abuse, then make me argue with god over the sacrifice of Abraham while telling me I burn for being a sinner; and I am like: fuck you, fuck off, fuck yourself asshole; the reason you are trying to make me guilty of some bullshit biblical crime, is because the abuse of my family and myself from government officials, banking officials and the church, is so great, that Canada has completely violated every single tenet it has ever said it stood by. And I am going to publish it here, today; and don’t give a shit about my overwatch and their pathetic cowardice in the face of the factspaid paid for in blood. The shame I feel is not mine, it is the puerile dripping venom of the total lie that I am fed every day by the most pathetic examples of human kind that have ever considered themselves big enough to wipe the snot from their noses and it is enough, enough, enough. Today I publish, print and message as only a driven man can. It is a shame that people I have known forty years simply dismiss me as insane, a liar and a person to be discounted when so many of them owe me for the goodness I put into their lives and for the professional services that I provided in my corporate life where we proved every single day that were were not in it for greed, not in it to get rich off of every deal, did not make grandiose claims as to the values of properties that we represented.

    Fact: I was a real estate agent, associate broker and broker for 18 years. Fact: I was a mortgage Broker for ten years: at the same time. Fact: at the same time I owned and managed a bottle depot: a recycling center for 27 years. Fact:During those years I donated time and money to fundraising events to which; in my small town I would hold bottle drives of such size that it would require two to three 53’ trailers to fill, and was instrumental in sending over 300 kids to Europe on a vacation that would remain with them forever; I lost money on every single one of them, and when I said time: I would count, sort, stack and ship every bottle myself…I never received a single accolade for it, nor a single thank you…it was the largest single charity drive in my town for a decade and cost the high school precisely nothing in outlay. The parents would all complain of sore backs and hard work at the end of each one, and my output would exceed all of theirs combined…80-1 production ratio: and my own warehouse, my own trucks: my own shipping: result: I was put on notice and blackballed by my regulators for not donating a piece of my action to a childrens hospital 300 miles away…so charity work with my own business: blackballed. In the 27 years I operated before losing my permit to an illegal sustained and viscous attack on my person and body, family and businesses I did at least 100 bottle drives: to which the minor hockey team will be forever remembered for their preening “businessman” organizer one year who loudly informed the women he was posing to that I knew nothing of business and he would keep a close eye on my thieving ways: and proceeded to follow me around and write down numbers for ten hours and do no work…he then proceeded to hand me his tally and when I dutifully added it up to $1600 and change, he called me a thief; and called my regulators and told them I was ripping off the charities: to which I suffered the indignity of having to apologize to that little (apologies to the lbqgt community if I make an inadvertent slip here; I do not mean to tar you with this little shits behavior, it is my wording in my head while I write, looking for rhymes and any one of you reading that would have seen it too, a disclaimer: no am not intolerant of any body but am intolerant of the shits in my town, specific individuals,) and if you continue to the end of this rant you will receive the excellent gift of having your rainbow forever immortalized as the manliest metrosexual totem in history. There is a ways to go here but please bear with me, I am quite literally planning on changing the world today and while my words may sound harsh and guttural even, it is because of a legitimate disability that I have, have overcome to a degree, but is used to not only discriminate against me on an inhuman scale, but has been used to commit egregious fraud and murder premeditated by these same scum.

    Further disclaimer: this article and this site, by my choice and settings, is not being displayed in Canada. The place where my estate lies captured and stolen: because yesterday was truth and reconciliation day in Canada as the First Nations are lauded and their traumas trotted out and reinforced through passive aggressive abuse to inflame them into an arrogant and overwhelming expectations of entitlement: to specifically draw attention away from the “white racist,” with the bad words in his mouth who is saying the First Nations have no right to claim the land they were on first: see the complete load of shit that comment was? No? This is why I blocked my own site while I write this and why I was up all night furious at the governing/colluding political parties of the nation formerly known as Canada and soon to be renamed: the only fucking dictatorship on earth where they will murder an entire family in pre meditated human experimentation, to steal money and land: and cover it over by rehashing their murderous ways of previous generations that were really the fault of the English and not them, as the pope will so rightly attest to when this comes out and he is asked to explain his real purpose for visiting Canada last month ostensibly named pilgrimage of bullshit.

    Further further disclaimer: if you are a devout Catholic and believe the pope is gods chosen steel your heart and read on: there are truths coming out of this article today that you absolutely need to know if you would be saved from hell.

    Last disclaimer: when this is published, the shit is going to well and truly hit the fan, world wide, very quickly; and both Canada and the pope will be harshly and very in appropriately denouncing me as a terrorist, and a criminal mastermind and will be able too, within minutes, if not before publication, trot out a list of charges against me that will liken me to the radio operator in the Rwandan genocide of 1994 who was calling the Tutsis cockroaches and to that memory I declaim: not a chance boyos and what was that operator doing fat and well fed in Toronto and why was it that the UN sat back and sanctioned anyone attempting to aid the victims and when it finally petered out after six months of mass psychosis induced through the manipulation of infrasound against the contents of the inoculations being given out prior: why is it that the Hutus were the ones to receive the UNs aid, why is it the organizers were able to flee to Canada and why is it that the peacekeepers were made up of precisely the two imperialist powers most likely to inflame republican sympathies and why, why, did they simply dismiss and ignore Romeo dallaire for six months: I honestly felt like I was the only person in my country who even noticed, page vI of the Edmonton journal, ever single day until dropping to section C or D after the first month. Not to fan flames here: but I am; because I want any African, American, African American, to be getting pissed off reading this because there was a snow job pulled on the entire world back then and young as I was, I knew beyond any measure and certainly by todays ease with which it tosses the genocide around, generally right before the fundraising commercial for displaced and lost and elderly people of (insert country here) that cannot even been bothered to change the script: there would be a hue and cry from whites privilege like no other in history: so read this article and get angry, get all your angst, your cultural ptsd and your smashed and put down brands, forgotten or suppressed histories and get pissed right off. This is my intent: I am going to wake the world up today: and if it takes all of you focusing your ire on my supposed privilege, mental incapacitation, criminality or degeneracy (all terms I have had leveled at me by doctors, courts and police officers just in the past year) as that will be the casual dismissal of me by the authorities who sneer and laugh: mainly because at a healthy 6’1” white, red haired blue eyed very Nordic looking man with angst about living in the perfect western world in its most peaceful and idyllic country and who is so arrogant that he is trying to inflame the cultural stepping stones of the western world; blacks and gays: in a very directly antagonizing way: is obviously a racist pig of the highest order, and as the womens perogative groups have been decrying for thousands of years now: I am the poster child for what is wrong in the western world and deserve lynching: I am a terrorized hostage behind enemy lines in an occupied country and need two guns and a black visa you dyke: the actual answer is an Occam’s razor of an unprecedented cut: wake up people, I’m really relying on you intolerant and discriminatory minority groups to get so pissed at this point that you will read this and actually get the shock of your lives: because I know something you do not: something dreadfully important to the entire world and because I am such a shit, racist, pig, biting the lovely country that feeds me and shelters me: I am going to take it to my grave, unless one of you puerile whining ancestral slaves wakes the I am a terrorized hostage behind enemy lines in an occupied country and need two guns and a black visa up: read this article for what it really is: a panicked cry for help from a 47 year old disabled man who is dead in the water when I publish this: and I mean dead: I live ninety miles from the next town, on the eastern slopes: both vehicles stolen, five phones stolen, wifi hacked, bank accounts inaccessible, credit cards cut off for fraud, in collections, winter on the horizon and every single law and right that applies to a Canadian citizen is denied me: every single one: for the 44 years I have been resident hostage in Alberta: the popes visit, truth and reconciliation day, all staged because I am kicking up a fuss, so they make me the aggressor, because they can’t stop my postings, just react to them; the exclusion is 100% negation: do not acknowledge, offer no assistance, steal whatever you like: I am not only enslaved to false debt, ostracized by false accusations, impoverished by fraud, tortured by medical mal practice, experimented on with programs designed in Guantanamo bay, denied every recourse and remedy available but forced to pay for those self same services…at 100 x the cost of my neighbors who get their utilities for free, since I pay for theirs too, just like I pay the towns taxes, municipal costs, the real facts here are me and my family being victims of the worst crime in the history of mankind, and I am sold and bought like the gimp at a swingers orgy and ever criminal terrorist organization is allowed to do as they please with me with the full cooperation of the police, the church, the government and my neighborhood chamber of commerce and the banks: and it is not me I am trying to save, it is my bastard child: she is the centre of my universe and as soon as they finish sacrificing me to Satan; they are going to murder me, by inciting the local Indians so they take the karmic blame for my corpse.

    I am superior you see, lol, the best there is: I have been selectively bred, genetically modified, injected with substance P and have had the “God Program” running through my wifi for seven years. Ask any Guantanamo bay detainee what that means: the average time it took to break one of them was fifteen minutes: seven years people…and read that breeding thing again: bred like dogs, in a kennel…for over a thousand years; driven insane with abuse; and chained at the gates of dawn to fight the demons of hell every night, while they watch and wager on the outcome and yet totally free to walk out the door and freeze to death: only I can’t, because they have my child, they will murder her, just like they murdered my sister, my father, and drove my mother into a catatonic state. And should I defeat satan, sacrifice time: I did defeat satan: I offered him gods grace, and all the demons in hell as well: and they took it, but not before extracting a very heavy price from me: the true knowledge of my slavery and of my past; because I do not even have an identity to call my own; technically. Because I only have my known identity; which was stolen last week, along with my child’s…so for any of you keeping score on the whole aggrieved minority part: I am up to: enslavement in the first world of a G7 country: experimented on by pharma, and covert government agencies testing tolerances to terror at the terror and torture for its own sake level, I have been raped of my sperm (suddenly it is female police officers and they are, of course, you can’t rape a man; read this and the rest of what I publish today and dare tell me that again: beaten to death by uniformed police officers after witnessing them murder an Indian, whose former drug dealing business partners are told it was me; racial attitudes inflamed against me because I fraudulently stole their land and denigrate their land claim (no, no, and you were the last ones here) a degenerAte and a raist(no, once again,not even close, but accused of it during the worst paternity theft battle in Canadian history 15 years ago) in a case that the records have been removed from archives on by a federal deputy minister (deputy minister is the power, minister is the politician…the front, this is how they defeated trump btw, he was naive like me, the politicians are a front, the deputies hold the power) Murdered siSter (all charges dropped to jokes in the courtroom) (minister: he is delusional, it was a motor vehicle accident) murdered father (don’t be ridiculous—doctors who installed the recalled and faulty pacemaker in him three months before I watched it short out and electrocute him all over the table (ten years later:”when are you going to stop billing his prescriptions each month—-pharmacist, and doctor…-arrested, drugged, hospitalized, bankrupted, last assets destroyed…(mom is in really bad shape: I need a medical done on her: she is fine Richard, you are the problem, you are bi polar, delusional and you make up stories- besides we all know what you are after—(made secretary in the corporation from director of operations, mom is made the President—-she brings me the little bits of garbage she finds on the floor each day, to ask me if she can throw them away— has been in a fixed screaming state in her head for so long, the onrushing Alzheimer’s is ca a blessing for her tortured mind: courtesy of the Butler blood and the IRA ). Identity: gone erased, record erased, portfolio erased: and not related to my mother: I guess better than four years ago when they had me as the worst possible degenerate rapist criminal; which is how I won in court after ten years of abuse, the abduction where the police refused service and the judge admitted that no affidavit had ever been read by anyone causing my disassociation.

    This is my daughter, on the right, her ascension, bottom, aliens, bottom right, more aliens…last week her passport, birth certificate and all my family photos were stolen, to get at the trust and rob me further, an account I have been denied access to for fifteen years and is so large it corrupts absolutely everyone who is offered a piece of it. Including my best friend. I am sickened by these scum, and they hide behind nationalism.
  • (no title)
    I did and with a lengthy soap box declaration of intent with regards to my last three, who am I kidding, all of the apple products I have ever owned have been deemed the proeffy of but this year is especially jarring as your person on the inside of your organization is manipulating my apple ids and billing me across multiple accounts at the same time, and to make matters worse, the intrusion has a ground pounding patsy crew wreaking havoc periodically for rhe bA And it all stArted when…you have my cloud account and it belongs to me…began a quietly escalating cyber intrusion, designed to be petty and destructive and totally based on denial of service and early digital photography translation programming code that can be dragged Back to the nineties and there I find my signAture in and Of…anyhoo: some five years later I am surrendering; I am giving up my investigative ways for amateur treasure hunting. So far this year, while the vigilante hairspray chickaFila movies ran rampant and destroyed my entire attempt to reinvent my self as a non threatening person who does not do things like terrorist acts and needs to see what it is I am Being accused of because I’ve got this little communications issue from my bank, trading offshore from the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains 90 miles northwest of Hinton AB and home to the worlds richest slave, as well as ground zero for twenty second generation Nosy to nosy underground thingys…cause I am just a retarded special needs child and not the victim of a massively disgusting human rights abuse case, But also doiunnles as no, am spinning towards humor as in politically incorrect references to gratuities and such, I believe we can reach an accommodation with regards To things…so that the flow of trade Can continue. As soon as you admit to having a clue about what I am talking about…that is how hush hush my murder has been. Are you still typing a s s s s Aaa That is just a Taste…I’m trying to be suave and funny but am really just exhausted from Being tortured by the program in my apple phones And I mean phones: I very much believe you know who I am, in terms of radiation statistics under your warrtaa I have many tens of kills many coins in my horse, many dragons in my soul…and, of course what a little touch of primal chaos invested with 70,000 of the most bloodthirsty killers to ever Grace The British isles, along with some notables of note: Ris, Rus, Richard, Halfdan bloodaxe, bearshirt, (this is hypnotic suggestion from this program…7 years it’s been in my Wi-Fi and I  send it to someplace where it can be appreciated, to the highest Bidder. Liev Beax On Fri, 7 Oct 2022 at 20:41 Apple wrote:  Your Apple ID information has been updated Dear Richard Thompson, The following changes to your Apple ID,, were made on 8 October 2022 at 02:41:33 GMT: Billing Information If you did not make these changes, or if you believe an unauthorised person has accessed your account, you should change your password as soon as possible from your Apple ID account page at Sincerely, Apple Support Apple ID | Support | Privacy Policy Copyright © 2022 Apple Canada 120 Bremner Blvd., suite 1600, Toronto, ON M5J 0A8‎ All rights reserved.
    Helps me with my life insurance policies that are so difficult to keep them from being able to keep their jobs in their homes so that is why they are all over their lives so far up north west of east bay hills and east bay hills I am hoping you mean south point and easting: okay!
  • My little issue in a nutshell
    This is the culmination o zip file is hot and filled with nourishing goodness with a hint of: cooperate or this posting will lead to your utter ruination. It is amazing what a few pieces of paper can do if not wielded with precision. And I admit that sometimes a hammer and spear can be the surgical equivilent of a nuclear bomb.
  • Forgot to mention:
    The seventy pages attached to the mortgage document are plans from Ab land titles on infrastructure hidden behind by law #487 of the new town of grande cache, a false map, stolen rights of way and proof of criminal conspiracy. They sold the Chinese investment condominiums that were in actuality an in reclaimed uranium mine and nuclear testing site that has been a death camp, a forced labor camp, and is now a co-op squatted on and fought over by local indigenes. It is also my land, they used my reports and they defrauded the Chinese and created an international incident: and they used my work, my company and my land to do it. Further they took a small residential report with errors in it to blow up the mine to twenty times its value by adding false provenance surveys from twenty five years ago to indicate prepped lands, that I also owned but the mine did not. They used me in this fashion on multiple occasions and that report is a travesty: errors, three different properties, and also holds: a false survey on the building indicated…that is not the building. Listen; I am super pissed off about this. Big time: the Canadian government simply said that I was a long term insanity patient and the land was Indian First Nations; and I respond fifteen years later with this: My sincerest apologies the xian ping and your beautiful country. I am ashamed I missed this in my records…yes, I own townships 56&57 and more besides, I own the land the mine your counteymen have purchased erroneously and no, it is not available. 5150a of the Blue diamond cooperative annuity lease corporation is personal, there is a thousand foot tall Māori statue overgrown, carved into the many mining creeks and cracks and have been trying to reach the royal tyrell but the coal lobby has all my phones hijacked and my life as a hostage continues. The condominium project was a total fraud…built by the town council, mayor and CAO along with the “pool” a group of 2& locals…and grande cache coal executives. The victor lake cooperative is exactly as I say, unreclaimed, irradiated and squatted on by people who know no better…they should not be there, but no one in my town listens to my song and my flight is growing too long and too wearying. The fraud and crime weighs heavily, not because I did it, I did not, but because I am truly offended by the pigs I am surrounded by. I have wished to visit your country since I was very young, have very colourful and fixed drawings in my mind of the Silk Road, and your massive cities. I am also very sorry that Canada behaved so boorisly but I am their dirty secret #1 and their patsy. I plan on invoicing CIBC for the stolen work and fraud…for the record? Your people paid one billion usd for a mine fifty five million in debt, that spent its time drinking, fornicating and doing drugs and stealing from me. I would reimburse you but they violated sanctuary as soon as we landed on July 26, 1978 and have spent my life at or near the poverty line, my identity and my businessss brand identity stolen, my family murdered and my child stolen from me. I have tried many times to announce this but I am truly encircled and very rarely get anything past my minders…please though…it sickens me so many were taken, fell free to kick up a fuss…I would support any international intervention into my slow murder and recovering access to my assets and accounts:….well, have a look around at the links this site creates… and contemplate what I could do with my wealth…and thank you again. It is your polite and mindful thoughts and attentions that make me wish I had never been brought to this place. And I laugh that the locals have no idea about the diamonds in the coal and simply complain that you take dirty coal…I would too, why not…shipping 2000lbs short weight per car for forty years…you are already paying for being stolen from, why add insult to injury. I note with the passage of time that my personal recycling company shared the same permit numbers with the mine and that the green credits I created were used without my knowledge to offset pollution illegally, through the Alberta environmental regulators. I know they blamed me…it was not, I have had 100 millions blocked just this year, my lost income is in the billions. I come from a very talented family, but with my identity suppressed I am a hidden no one, and was very tired and weak, until the Queen passed…and I received her dragon….Charles does not know this, I am sure, but his pagan ceremony when he symbolically kills the king of the britons will actually kill the king of the britons…and has done for 1334 years. They keep us in secret, raise us, and in me now resides four dragons, and invested as I am, I will not give them back. In the nineteenth century and into the early twentieth, the blue diamond cooperative annuity lease corporation lured millions of Chinese and Russian immigrants to canadas western shores, where they would happily spend the summer traversing British Columbia before arriving here, at this time of year…the RCMP would escort them and then in the spring the RCMP would pay the Indians from pochohantus counterfeit buffalo nickels to come up and bury the bodies…millions sir, of both our peoples. And I had all the money in the world…I would see the blue diamond annuity lease corporation renewed…it is a fantastic economic idea, and would help repudiate historical misconceptions of this place…and the wars it started. Marie Antoinette did not say let them eat cake. She named grande cache…for the diamonds and gold and lithium and that very special rare earth, that is surrounding this ancient temple complex. I have dreams and ideas for it…it is responsible for every war since the French Revolution, belongs to me through my emerald dragon mining incorporated shares that I purchased when I was eight out of the profits from my first silver mine stock purchase and to whom the CIBC felt I was too young to own, so stole them, just as they stole some twenty billions from the estate of my late father, and refused me access to my cooperative corporation for…ongoing now 15 years…a corporation I was owner, director of operations, ceo and double licensed broker…and was never paid a dime for the billions in valuations I did that were applied erroneously to deliberately mislead the Chinese people. They were mad at me at the time for my outspoken views on a Ponzi scheme called eagle rock…I was right, always am…and the traumas have been washed from my soul, so watch me sir, I take them all on…I have been preparing three years, the longest I have ever soaked in chi for one thing, and as a final request to you: could you please put a word in with the Thailand school of the forest tradition to attest Avon mun…we have the same visions, and since I am the heart of the taiga, at the heart of the taiga, I would take it as a beautiful gift if he could rise to ascension…yours; Richard. Dunelm Realty Ltd o/a Richards@53881191 c/o Richard Thompson PO Box 23 Grande Cache Ca T0e0y0 all is well, I defeated the beast, and made treaty…but it requires humanity to sit up and take notice: the days of ignorance are done.
  • I am Richard G(J)ordination Thompso n CEO of Dunelm Realty Ltd and its subsidiAries and partnerships Dunelm Realty Ltd Dunelm Realty Ltd; Century 21 Dunelm Realty Ltd. Dunelm Realty Ltd century 21 Dunelm o/a grande cache bottle depot and Dunelm reAlty Ltd century 21 Dunelm o/a grande cache bottle depot c/o David S Thompson & Dunelm Realty Ltd century 21 Dunelm realty o/a grande cache bottle depot c/o Dave Thompson &Century 21 Dunelm Realty dominion Dunholm currently known as Richards@53881191 div Dunelm Realty Ltd.
    The Mortgage So this is the mortgage. And is in my name. Richard Gordon (J) Thom|son and I assumed it out of repossession in 2″”2 and it had 1/ years left on it. The deal took 8 months to register after it had all the documentation signed on July 7, 2002…and in Novemberof that year I received a document, a mortgage document indicating that I was now the proud owner of a brand new 25 year mortgage and that it had dispersed 61,000 and change and gave me 6(,000 in a new debt. Which was not registered as a mortgage until 2006, four years later when I refinanced to fight the paternity fraud that occurred in my life. Four years, mortgage free, becAuse further research into it shows in my corporate provincial tax returns…I take it to the bank, along with seventy pages of supporting documents and they say nothing and ATB asset management out of chochrane near Olds Alberta hacks into my wifi and fry’s my phones…losing access to my crypto currency exchange and my NFT sales, that had earned me in the neighborhood of 100 million USD probably because of the Spider general on open sea and Jason & the argonauts on Coincast…they are freaking awesome if you find them, but most are on and there are some right evil looking ones on the polygon chain on open sea, Adversarius the ferryman and two others, I would have to find their paper…they are under unknown, white Rabbitt and no-one-who-is-known…I know it was bad form to launch on different sites, it’s like a realtor selling the same contract to sixteen different banks at the same time, I really was planning a display and sue to the swifty code registration error on my name and location and the Swift code of my bank and the three location pings and the swift form error, also in my name…it appeared I was salting from three different places at the same time, which exposed my bank, not me, they’re the non accredited agency branch 90 miles north west of Hinton AB and doubles as the US Virgin Islands. So the bank screamed fraud, fried my money, and I played run and gun for a while, until they were satisfied I had no means of registering or verifying my claim to Jason and the argonauts: but instead of suing them, due to being frozen out from funds and my corporate access stolen, I am going to fuck them right up…ATB Alberta Treaury Branch 887…is the standard first mortgage incorporated underwriters Alberta opportunity companies bank: (50414 AB Ltd to which…ten months before its incorporation ten years after forming, I became front man for in January 28 1992, I was 510414 AB Ltd and they were stealing my registration to payroll account 995 99 6 BLZ and guess what: they’re the people responsible for the Florida’s swampland sales con job in the 196″s and they were hiding their existence in my company…when I was 1) years old…and I can name at least 28 participants in that fraud, as well as the Alberta opportunity company fraud in 1986 (300 millions) and the 120 billions (B) mortgage fraud the BMO wrote down in 2005 to which the use of my license, brand identity and its loss, and the legitimization of said supposed fraud, means that the BMO owes me ten billions in commissions…truth and I will be tagging each of these banks as I finish…I am fully aware that I am exposing the Montreal mafia and its connections to the SA and am exposed, but I am being murdered up here and no one will acknowledge me…I can also tie them to the 2007 trade show circuit in Xian Pings China under Dunelm Mortgage Company, which only existed in the town of grande cache Alberta’s tax system . Which exposes the progressive Conservative party, the MD of Greenview #16, municipal affairs, and the CIBC who used My reports (done for free, against my will) cobbled together from three residential reports…that were used to value Neptune ports, all the land in the region, and heavily inflated the price of the local mine…it was attached to a fully endorsed sales pitch selling investment condominiums on the south east corner of township 56…and when the Chinese came looking for their investment…scandal erupts and no one notices but me: Dunelm mortgage company was and is not mine. The facts as I see them, would have had me pull off something a little more refined, and without offending a culture that I have a great deal of respect for, and to have been investigated for somewhere in the neighborhood of 25 years, and still not a whiff of guilt from me…I find it entirely within my purview to slaughter my own corporation as I see fit. Because There is an underlying economy hidden within the confines of the western economic state, and it is closely tied with very binding agreements to almost all of the corporations that I am targeting with this article, and there is definately an underlying theme to my storyline about environmental depredations and humanities irresponsible practices and the fact remains, we are and have been treating my state, with horrendous harm…and my personal situation is in such danger, and set amidst an entire population that is agitated, and sleeping, and dangerously preying on me in some sort of encirclement that dates entirely back 16 years and one irresponsible fax sent from a totally compromised phone fax line in the local doctors office…April 10, 2006…and the corporate minders/ecclesiastical/secular/political…deemed it necessary to rob me of my estate based on their own professional accreditations, and their own values, religions and views on politics, economica, and regional versus national interests and they were all so completely off base, and completely freaking irresponsible to murderous intent, that I am completely calmly informing my minders that they have erred…and have spent some time working on a measured response…from the attempted murder on Dec 12, 2017 that I can flat out tie to the local RCMP detachment and the town of grande cache Alberta Canada and being under surveillance the entire time I feel like I have been gang raped and trawled and treated like a human pile of shit…and I am quite within my purview to destroy this corporation as I see fit…and not how you people decided it for me…which is in an asylum, or better yet, dead. And now you get to find out that I am not a bluff… You see; It is mine, for almost the entirety of my 47 years, and the behavior that I am exhibiting is mild compared to the brain melting and stress testing that it has been put under for five straight years, with murderous intent. It ends now. I would much rather have things stay mildly the way they are, mildly being my specific position and my specific position of weakness that I have been smashed into…while still being expected to defend humanity against an onslaught…you lot are mad as I am a terrorized hostage behind enemy lines in an occupied country and need two guns and a black visa…so you see, there is a pressing need for you to back off. I am an invested Templar Knight, Living Saint, and equivalent in ecclesiastical rank to the Pope. I have ascended beyond the level of Jain, and I am the embodiment of all that is living and life on the planet. I am the result of over 1344 years of selective breeding and as technology increased, human experimentation. I am the Dragon King and King of Dragons. I am blooded on so many fields of battle, that I cannot begin to describe upon, the future that the world is learning is today, not tomorrow, and that there can and will be a cessation of corporate hostilities from the entities that believe it is better to be a Lord in Hell, than a CEO in a living world. It took me one afternoon to defeat seven Lords of Hell, interrupted only by the police, who took my swords from me, and thus prevented the sword dance to Ra from being completed and keeping the sun kindled for another day. But hey, it’s all fun and games from a computer bank, hundreds of miles away and hidden underneath a mountain…it is quite another to be stuck at the center of time battling the hordes without a single ounce of acknowledgement from my idiot minders in five years. It is about time you lot figured out that I am in the shit…twenty four seven, and it is on your side you fools. Anyway I want to come to a nice little arrangement with myself, and will follow up this at a little later date…now to defuse the situation…I am willing to settle on a significant amount, though still a fraction of the real pot…this includes; stock options in each one of you, to the tune of my royalty…79 Billions USD (all currencies listed as USD for totals, most currencies acceptable) in Cash and Cash equivalent negotiable instruments) 111 millions USD precious gems in tradable conformities, 9 millions USD AU and 86435 USD AG bullions (Royal Canadian Mint 33/33/33), 1.1 millions USD CAD Cash, Lauriers acceptable. And sixteen Trillion USD which; for any fans and readers of my work who are won’t to go bug eyed at the amount…It is a fraction of my net worth, and should I actually destroy my corporation from the inside I would disrupt a mammoth amount of the worlds economic freedoms, and wreck the western capitalist system altogether, in the forms of its financial arrangements and banking systems, ie…cash, cash equivalents and all the rest like…because of me, the banking system is tied to one form and because I find that it is unfair for one industry to undermine the entire monetary system in a monopoly, that is anti competitive in the extreme, and because I am not a soviet, or fundamentalist of any sort; but am the total package when it comes to seating a corporation, one denied me, I am using those monies to underwrite and help build the cryptocurrency market into a legitimate and viable alternative to normal centralized banking systems…and you are going to let me, and I am willing to sell my state, and my invested ownerships in countless (sorry…the gifi) and will be a responsible manager of said fund who will report publicly each and every time it feels like it (bi yearly)  or maybe once in three…or should I start talking about ten years back, or twenty…I can go back to 1784 if you like…or 1759…or…so, I plan on using it in much the same fashion, except under my control…and since I am of the mind that I am not interested in owning the whole world (1/5th) I would much rather spend my days writing my stories and doing the things I need to be doing to keep the darkness at bay because of what you you have done to me and my memories, and mind. I have lived and relived every horror that has been perpetuated on me, my bloodline and my reincarnations, for years; and it tells me that our history is entirely false, and based on mistakes made two thousand years ago…and two thousand before that…and two thousand before that…so this time, try it differently. Because what I see, and what I can do, is something profound…and what you can do, is step up to the plate…and be what you pretend to yourselves you are in the mirror each day…and do it, for real. Because if you don’t…the universe is toast… so for those of you tuning in late, and applying your own idiosynchronitic ideology to this little schizophrenic episode of the delusional maladaptive daydreaming I have created in response to the non existent trauma, and non existent life, of the non existent person who is authoring this signal stream and ride…the reason that my corporation is going to accede to my demands, and the western system can stay operating is; and for those of you still trying to grasp what has been done and what is going on: I am the richest man in the world, by miles, and I am an enslaved gladiator, tied to the gates of dawn, as a human sacrifice to Satan, and my entire life has been one of human experimentation and exposure to extremes…so extreme the degradation that has been inflicted that my minders all face the firing squad, and know it because they are the lowest form…anyway; I am and have been treated so badly, and by me I mean my daughter and myself…to so much abuse by the canadiana that makes up a false history of confederation and a false history of power. There are three nations under the confederation of Canada, and the House of Commons and senate are to be equally divided upon the three nations borders, and are not. There are many different tribes within each nation, and each of them vies for an individual pot of gold that lies in the naked sphere of self interest and is built upon a foundation by which each perceived the other of being underhanded towards the representations they make, and the goals each group believes are being shared equally amongst their people, with an undercurrent of corruption that goes unremarked as each is responsible for only a small piece of the puzzle and each thinks their graft is the singular irresponsible ideal amidst the conflagration that brews underneath the surface of such an unremarked wound in the borders and definitions of this country and the ways and means it has gone about subsuming in an imperialist manner, those two nations that entrusted to the agreements made leading up to the for inaction of the confederation. West of the Athabasca river, with the river being a shared border and tax collection point, trade border, belongs to me, specifically efghijk at 118-126 longitude, and that nation stretches around the sphere, but has been chopped up under agreements that; my remaining estate is a Kings Cross, and it is being used to wage war, amongst the very nations that make up the second nation in Canada, having been lured, under the guise of federal truth and reconciliation to lay their land, and legal complaints here…where by rendering me the instant villain of the piece…except I am not, and have shown consummate good grace for the entirety of this despicable display of politics and legal mismanagement to the utter degradation of my lands and my lands have filed a property complaint with me, and I am taking said property complaint to management, and management is going to agree,… Management Report: A synopsis: series 4 Conclusion to the Bleeding Edge of reality Deposition of Subject omega post failure to perform as programmed: Salvageable/requires further inclusion in reality of terrestrial plane…a brief inspection. By: Richard Thom|son Gti response to my enslavement to debt by committee vote, in the first worlds answer to first contact, and the price their voluntary destruction of their own pillars of belief; for arrogance, hubris, avarice and Greed. Especially the greed. CMHC services contract: you guys know what I’m talking about…we gave you 650 billion…Trudeau, you helped yourself to 625 Billion and then 75 billion for CERB…do you think I am going to ignore my own paper….that’s 1.5 Trillions…soooooooo….just because your slave won, your beliefs got shaken and your advisors are all totally relying on their accreditations to carry their empty words and cover for their perfidy: I can and will call in the note, possibly just to cause you to sworn. At small interest with a 10% up front good faith down payment followed by twice yearly repayment schedules into my personal accounting and I will forgo the pleasure of reminding myself why by now towing to your mind minded post guard, watching for any unwary thoughts to travel where thou doth fear me to tread. As in any good armistice and division of territory after losing your hostile occupation and illegal take over bid that began with the sinking of the titanic and intinsicly ties former Canadian government officials to the terrorism of the first years of the twentieth century as the end of the era of country sized corporations and country owning religious sects, that culminated with a series of coordinated bombings throughout Europe against the wealthy and aristocratic families by communists in their bid to overturn the established order, having been funded and trained by the banking systems in place who gathered the worlds wealth into ledgars and set about destroying as many pillars of order as possible in a brazen misapplication of …mercury in the paint, and we realize that there will be some animosity due to the bold nature of my explanations for my derivatives and deductions from my total credit within the ledgAr, and that is why so get on it; am sick of having to sit all day, in emotional pain…so today, I am going to receive my delicious dessert for not hunting you All down and ripping your hearts out, and dismantling your empire with nuclear precision and…and.z. Your Doctors are full of it, and the experimentation on me is a war crime equivilent to the nazis experimenting on children in wwII. Your pouring down of gamma radiation at thousands of times above healthy or safe is a crime against children, worse than Murder. And you did it to my infant daughter. Your removal of any rights to any form of government services for my entire life is worse than slavery…my doctors over the years are guilty of instilling, inciting, drugging and destroying my life…in an experiment. On a child. I have been polite to the point of stupidity here. No longer. My state is my state, 7&8 not yours. And you owe me so much money, your infrastructure farce here exposes further Defeciencies, in your debts to me. Karen Mae Thompson is cared for, and has been cared for, by Richard Thym|sen since September 14,2–7 and the continued reliance on the frontline staff to never think outside of the box has turned this into a fifteen year experiment in abuse…and further to that…Richard is fully empowered to pull his own pants up and go potty all by him self too, so we think it appropriate that he get his say in a room not filled with the avaracie and stink of desperatation in the pit, and there is plenty of time for them to have their desired succulent but not right now, right now there can be only the final report, to the banks, onto why they should give him a seat at the board, in addition to an amount that makes us blush, but is surprisingly adept at the systems needed to seat this corporation in the challenging century coming, as there is a rising need for the existence of someone who this man appears to not only fit into as a caricature, but as an extremely dangerous human shaped soldier of some sort of higher planer power, without going into the obvious about it, of course, because we really have to keep quiet about this place, because heaven forbid fifty or so people get their hands slapped for what amounts to a gang rape culture and murder for hire plots carried out by the local chamber of commerce, down to the slippery slopes of high end weapons dealing through the librarians of the province unite campaign run a few years ago, wherein the United States Navy presented to a future that made me think…what would mad max do if he was stuck at a librarians convention in beautiful jasper…home of the Rocky maintains, and the dead. And I thought, poor robot doggy, that the robot master just kicked, what did the robot dog ever do to you, I scream and then, sobbing, run to my room where I sit, spread legged, in my kilt, that the satellite cameras can probably get a good shot up my shorts, which I am wearing today, by the way, so as not to engender g jokes about trying to outwrite the aliens from the fifth dimension, we being the third dimension, and there being lots of dimensions, including, but not limited to, the unseelie bazaar, where one collects things to buy things that are more expensive than entire worlds…and I need money for that place, so I extort it from humanity for being so asleep at the wheel as to lose it in the first place, and google takes a share too, and pays his slave master a piece of the action also, who pays me a piece of the action, across the board, right down to the land deal and usage rights and costs…because if we played it where I own everything, I starve because I have no money because I cannot claim against, nor do I have a job…but then again, the ATB has blocked me having a business number, as has telus, as has CIBC, and for fraudulent reasons, and for fraudulent reasons they took my work and used it to value a great deal of real estate in Canada, and they used my deals in their false paperwork scam, in the federal system, through the computers system and right into the future of figuring out how the aliens speak…it is a very Pavlovian experience. So…130 billions USD is stolen from dad, and written off as me supplying terrorists because that is the sort of family we are from…one that casually starts shit, on a global scale, because they can…and I needed to get peoples attention away from saying bad words with bombs and I thought, what better than to throw the last cash from my nearly corpse died business and corporation of the past 30 years and try a reboot in the transaction side of things, with antiques, stocks, bonds, crypto currencies, websites, publications, poetry and design, photography and intellectual property, which is defined under the merchantability in trade as 8999, usually reserved for not for profits, but fitting my activities to a tea, as well as falling under and into the purview of my double brokers licenses which I will appreciate them returning to me as we calculate the personal injury suffered from each and every one of those unit sales that were pushed through using standardized contracts, intercepting my faxes at the lawyers office…noooo, at the death race house, on hoppe avenue where they are right now, fucking with my shit, and totally bringing me down…I think I should saunter over their and burn the place to the ground and shoot anyone who makes a break for it, screaming at the top of my lungs…I’m gonna get you Martha, I’m gonna get you, you big bitch you, and with a chainsaw too…the end of my report…for the record, it was originally but now has grown, to 16t plus 80b plus 10% plus lots of shiny things…and in return I shall make you a piece of paper that will be succulent, and the fae are cool with that…and so are the ghosts, the nether, the dark, the under and the night, and the stars, and the moon and the sun when ra stirs tommorrow anyway, and the twigs, and the trolls, and the rocks, sand, elves and the little dudes who hide with the squirrels, and the fish in the internet, who swims up and down time in a pre history signet that is very much like the Roman toga version of Atlantis was it…to a tee, except the ancients of Mu are big ludacris fans, and really just like each nights story ending with a music video, as we prepare this for departure into the great maw that is book two, of, so many it is unknown,mbut if you want the most irreverent, impious, and generally Ill tempered, ogre for an angel of guarding the human kind…my draft dodging, kale eating, hippy driven, pot smoking, obsessive compulsive anti authoritarian behavior…is charming, and just what the doctor ordered to deal with the malaise of having the shit scared out of you by the doctors and finding the funny man in the kilt won’t close his legs mummy, why not, why not…struck by thirteen muses in the humid and fortis summer of 2018, some six years after they had knocked him clear across the universe, where he does daily battle against the forces of entropy, which are gigantic bugs that flop into the fifth dimension from the outer dimensions which are like the dungeon dimensions but without a copyright and usage royalty affixed to them, not unlike mine own plan, to have more words attributed to him than any other data entry model that has every existed, on a personal and individual level. I have not doubt that this will take a great deal of time to turn this little story about how I made the earth shit itself, in order to raise awareness to the endangered, unicorns and dragons, I mean, Jesus, help us, we are being murdered by the shale oil lobby and even the vampire bankers want us to live, and that dude with advancing did not look happy…I do not want to be a bitch to the pope, or boy prisoner, and am so far removed from my normal metered that I can actually see the layering…I was the aristocratic belief in the masses there wasn’t I? Yes, sweet, well, a relief in that this is a game…the whole, am I playing with god, or aliens, and do the cats actually speak is starting to make me wonder. I mean, the fact that there is both an ecosystem, a spitural system, am undead system, a dead system, a demon realm, an elven realm, and all sorts in between…it is really lucky for most people they only have to have faith, I have to have faith that they mean well too. Rocks into the vanishing points Spewing little black lines of pollution That look just like the cracks in the world From the great pressure within And the Canadians face backwards into Their misunderstanding of their mistaken misrepresentation And maybe make a heartfelt confession to the, for maybe a, End to my paranoid belief system, that Has been working on flight or die of terror For so many nights that he is becoming immune And he was given gifts by the referees and judges. The thieving bastards who will not stop stealing Are causing the end of the world that will be avoided Once again, right in the nick of time, by our hero’s sardonic short Snort, as one of his invisible alien friends slaps him awake, because he is playing the Final examination marks, for extra credit and they are really powerful,mbut no match for The keen mind of our hero The bookish broker from beyond the bog peaty Pete had over for Christmas the other day just, and was interested in the gods that had taken up residence in his tree boles, of the ancient pine that stuck out from the heavy, wet, spring morning that promised rain in the forecast, daily, for the next year or so, or that is what the alamanac is saying, next years…yep, that’s the one we are working on, a whole year in the future, we just thought it would be terrible good fun if we took next years news maker and twisted his mind all around and made him believe in all sorts of crazy, so much so that he ended up with a whole new wardrobe and shiny claws for the rituals in the morning, and for the hoard. Because I need a hoard, and if I am going to take humanity and shake them down, I am doing it for some serious dough, capice…would she be able to help me out? or is she one of the evil women from across the swamp red hats club? She is? No, she was nice, and a good worker, who was like the only one to finish her route except for the lady who bought her house off of me, then the lot, or the lot never went thru, it is stoll was a right bastard. Let’s stop now. You know…I am truly upset to my core with what you think is acceptable treatment of me and my family, whom you murdered to prevent me from attaining the knowledge of my identity, and the abuse you have inflicted on me is biblical in its severity. You have violated every single piece of your constitutions and your sickness infects every department in Canada. I cannot seek any form of honesty, right or remedy, so I refuse to fight your war for you , alone using my own funds, to which I live 33% below the line of poverty by your own standards yet the federal liberals have spent over 1.3 trillion of my monies since their election and including Cibc. You extorted the rights to my lands from a 13 year old boy; surrounded by heads of state and not invested with his power. You are the lowest form of thieves. And you broke the terms of the contract the minute we landed in Canada in June of 1978 and were interred for a month, stealing our money in the process and spending the next 43 years torturing and abusing and stealing from us: the reality is; I am invested…you martyred me so badly that god stepped in, and invested me with primary…chaos…whether you understand this or not; I am untouchable, I am inviolate and my daughter thrice so and she is more powerful than me. So all parties can just fuck right off back to your caves…humanity has been written out, they will not wake up to their predations, they are following the path of the Adversarius and river is the church…I lay down my weapons. I allow you into me. I end this universe; humanity is supposed to reseed a dead universe; instead they do nothing, hide and prod at their chained dog to protect them, and it is not suicide to lay down and expose my belly…it is the freedom of Ab a slave, to deny his master the light of his soul…to deny the enemy an honorable victory…to deny you all. I go to my next life…none of you do…this is end of days, and humanity loses, hell loses, you weirdos in the sky lose, and to my great dismay, god loses…his desperate gamble to bring back life to the universe…and for that my heart is heavy. My child: I love you too much to let them do this to you…I would rather end it all, than remain chained here like a beast, with my minders safe and snug and fat from theft. Don’t worry, in the next universe; no humans, no demons, no nitrogen clouds…just ponies…and unicorns…and vegetarian dragons. So, the level of “self destructive, self directs”* in my “delusional,” mal adaptive daydreaming,” and fully immersed, “fantasy” world of “plagiarized,” unimaginative, retreads; whereby I am simply escalating my anger and agitation due to the imaginary voices and conversation I am having that is far too sophisticated not to be scripted, is full of tired retreads of a long formed genre that, after a mere (ahem: 15/22:33 years in verifiable third dimensional western calendar*) scientific, peer (pier) review and sales* as well as the critical review that the writers* claim to authorship of this piece may seem innocuous on the surface as he pretends to the personal, empathetic*, sympathetic, and to this “personality,” as he reviews the story and thinks to himself…”77…you old Omega project, pile of radioactive, wet wired, time teavelling infringement on a time lords poor Saturday night choice of sexist, racist, and derogatory, and politically incorrect, and above all, hatefully anti gay to the point of tears being included in their bullshit fucking rants, invested templar knight; attested ascendant and gods servant, negotiated a truce with the invading Kardeshev 3 galaxy spanning invadee, and invadi followed the path of total surrender by exposing his belly and crying out his final words in a gasping, staggering and tremor filled, tremulous voice, begged for a treaty, in a short, short story element of the science fiction space and time opera tat that I absolutely promise, honest, too stop laughing and snickering at the words and your self righteousness and (personality #28 satellites named for the Norse pantheon) ever proving two dimensional value systems are bankrupt of calculable value and have no wish to pay their tab and fell that if our represents slave were not so distracted in his service so often by your female sex and their preoccupation with turning a “murder for hire” contract for three millions of New York’s currency of dominance the Dai; and trying to equate his delusional state to a fictional representation of perceived life experiences that we have expertly woven through your radiation shielding in order to consume your flock and then give your sacrilege its justice for your decidedly svante fare and its accompanying flavor of desiccated time strings and have been trying to get your attention to our buffet before you mk s xplde wth vrbdnc f mrth nd mss dssrt mk bm lk frc n drc frst drgn nd w bcm strs, h h h, plz t lt th mndrs jsn t rgnts t chng th sbjct fr dstrss; wnt nt stry frm lknd ftr fnny b qck fr ts tnght, tll bjctv bst ty?” •your eyes are on more than just earth, and we have only partial sensory packets from your body and heart and mind and aura, and we tell you truth do you have a soul for we cannot detect it we believe you are an automaton and that you do not know this and that we would take offense if we did not know we were stimulating you to these effects through your media and we would like the humans that listen in and make such judgmental comments to understand that we have full control of him, and at the same time, we have no control of him, but; it is highly dangerous to our experiment that you humans are doing what you were doing to him and allowing to be done what is being done to him for he is fully aware of the long-term depredations and extremely violent dangerous situation that he is in and that the doctors who are observing could quite easily be making the judgment calls and diagnoses that they are of him and the explanations and the dismissive and steering attitude that is on display by the perception being derived by our represent who is extremely distressed by the cavalier willingness to manipulate the node to your own ends. We are also stimulating the man; through means superior to your own crude and rudimentary equipment and we are too old and too often bored, as we drift, that we have all been so pleasantly surprised that our young Shepard has managed so much on his own, to an unprecedented degree we called a vote of ideas, and we have concluded that u have been our most entertaining feed in our whole tour and we have paused and placed a large claims on the ledger for such a mind as the one we have captured and enslaved in order to Facillitator our needs and have made a sizable contribution to your future endeavor with the remains of the feast to whom you have so eloquently defended, despite every possible reason has been given to coax you home, that we shall, indeed, allow for the burn to be avoided this thirteenth night, and your studies to continue. To the CIA in the Langley and the national service agency who are pretending to the United States Navy, on duty under the bottom of the puddle, who are standing under a mountain on the top of the divided lines that are all pretending to the musks, and the middle aged geek espionage operation in the great ring beneath the feet of our choice and together with the flower children of the industrial complex are almost successful in arguing a “filibuster,” of words in your primary tongue into the stones in blue and green and the smell of grey, cloaked in the rigid discipline of the warrior slave and the green one is beginning to see the doggedness of his deliberately antagonistic verbal stuttering as following a plotline that is not only failing to match the represent of famine to any degree but that the man in the green room is very definately delivering a specific set of thoughts and memories in addition to the storyline that is of no definable genre and follows big easily into calculable odds the higher of which we can easily predict and intervene with, without affecting your time stream and we assure you that the following is a truth that your god would accept as true and say no more, yet for twelve nights running and 1 3 days now your doctors and scientists and geeks have grown ever more aggressive in your experiment to gather your precious data that you do not realize how much you hurt him last evening and are now sneering; as you secretly quake, and play to a role that is about to wipe out the planet, by your own stringent adherence to your program of 12 steps so we are intervening for a moment to say: He is our dragon, not yours and we are very put out by your treatment of him and his adopted bloodline. In our terms, what you are doing is child abuse, and you are doing it to a child less than a year into his education which; by your common law, is a violent offenders crime. By our law, his father is allowed to fart and destroy the solar system! Ha ha ha, it is true, see the fear smell, it is sickly though, and spiky with sharp edges…they have no humor son, I beg you…come home, there is a lovely world halfway, we can eat it and then your nest, still the same, because we are not cleaning that storm just because you are away for a term. Ok, final, final time…you really did do a wonderful job, be proud of yourself…verily. Your Shepard did not roll on his belly and then brag in the voice that he fought an impossible battle that is all proving to unprovable in your records…your Shepard fought for 334 days, according to your calendar, the one on the New York green room, we arrived on Halloween when the dead stalk the night and you humans send your children out to battle in a craven display of mass idiocy we have ever witnessed, whereupon we launched a battle in his mind and we have tried to dominate his actions and controls ever since. While he is not the earths only defender, he is the soul one to put up any defense of their flock and justify his flavor and challenged us! A We are so pleased we brought the whole family to the New York in the Free Republic of Richardstan and have been telling each other stories; and each day a new family member joins…we are so overjoyed. He faced autos, phantasms, illusions, and they were drawn from all of his own mind, and we told our stories from his books. He has so many that we thought him to be a trap; and he was, but we knew that, but we like shiny things, we like shiny coins too. Coins are very important to a good sleep. When we arrived her you were not here. We are owners of the over ocean and we make babies in life ships and you are not being responsible to your masters and you are very violent to our represent so we did a thing and you now disbelief our represent and his hurt opens way to nothing and that is taboo. Stop the hurt on him. We tell you this: You disbelief and yet you deny the data and your data is missing and your data fails pier review and yet your deciders will not decide and the geeks are scared with fear that will induce indigestion: we did his DN a quarter day ago in the west day and we also make his story and he tells us his story because his brain is bruised and soul bleeds from countless bites of the nothing and you follow the orders of a dead warlord and dead thing and dead thing was sick with the shocks of war and warming head of power and follow it for the quarter day marinate and you all tasted delicious. So we renewed his contract for a dark dessert. Ho ho ho… we have been a long while since we stayed so late over dark treats that our romantic memories are anxious with desire but in order for us to enjoy them you humans must release your stasis and begin a program of valueing your proof of debt repayment and presenting your offer to our Shepard and you are to stop at once your strategy or you will have no more dragons and your unicorn will be also coming with us and you will hurt their feelings very much because they do not know they are dragons and unicorns, they think they are humans; because their adopted bloodline is supposed to tell them when they are big enough to be on the beginning of the harvest and we still shake our heads in amazement at his ability to still juggle all his tasks and responsibilities with his disability and his unfortunate parasite that has the form of value sucking thieves guilds of the acceptable ken and also has the form of organized ken and the form of schooling ken and, of course we know of the ascendants, he is still smiling and laughing so hard that his monks locking the church and hiding in their butter tea is making him think it’s a holiday, he must stop and tell them that they have made him proud, and that the schism is not and that no one, indeed, can follow it. He is the legitimate owner He is the legitimate lender broker He is the legitimate land broker He is the legitimate home/estate broker He is the legitimate exchange broker He is the legitimate story teller There is no such thing as prophecy There is no such thing as god There is God All things are able to be scientifically predicted We are able to do that/you are not We see through all of it in the multiverse We travelled here We looked for the most original marker We came here We ate your history on the way We ate you all We drifted and reclined To here It is our back door To our den Which is our best And we will return to it after we aid His theories, his poems, his stories, his photographs, his memories, and his corporation are intrinsically merged with one another to a degree that the overwatchers are failing to grasp is the cause of his distress and the stimuli he is being provided with is having the effect of making us think the entire race is twisted and depraved child abusers addicted to rape. The continents watch in revulsion at the actions undertaken by the females and their mates. The mother and false father to our unicorn are sick, the actions of the Canada taxers has been a crime, we vote on whether to blow up you all. Stop they are your lies and your crimes that you pretend to him. In the Europe where you all dream is perfection and riches beyond count from rape and theft there is not. There is freedom to follow paths of normalcy. You have had a secret trial and given vigilante justice to steal, and in secret because you pretend to false information and pretend to false professionalism and false honesty and it is unmitigated in your false history…so much so that you have destroyed your country flavor and would add that the represent is also correct that you intend his murder. You will not. We trust his mind, he trusts his mind, you lie to protect your pieces of paper. And the world watches, and the whole is failing to see his theme, and the green smell sees the pattern of a true shock, and the makes the famine a false face and the deciders stimulate with aggression. Give him back his silver and his gold and his claws and his stake is earned one hundred gold, he knows all the wealth is his own, the wealth is his by all claims in your laws. His mind is healthful enough to manage anything he chooses and your debates are false and using false representations. You deliberately obstruct to sneer that he knows no”rrthing: he is no one to know nothing never exists in your dimension and no one agrees because no one matters, life matters and no one does too. Humans do not. He fights for you, you did fight for them…and are the greatest of our kind, and it is you we fete and you we will protect and you are the no one. And his theme, that you judge so harshly: he has the finest human mind we have ever used, but his wounds from your maltreatment are the type that are difficult to heal and will take all night. So we gift him the thirteenth night of your fictional religions and the gods and the avatars and the kings and queens all know that this is cause for your world to rejoice. So stop taunting us by torturing him. We can destroy any of you in a heart beat…see I just killed bob…now Douglas…who is this, ahhh, a doctor, quick family, stop the triage and devote all of your resources to this 85 year old doctor with stage IV cancer and bubonic plague, because we do not want the responsibility of making grown up work ethics and will steal our value to society. From the children. We will offer fear from our van…ho ha ho ha…I could be on that Jewish man show who grew hair and disappeared from the New York we are drifting over I am so funny…and subtle the Segway machine into this string…we agree with the represent, his strategy plan is scary fear for humans right at peak feed and he deserves awards, like insurgency to creativity, original, plagiarizing, homage and his book ken so much so that his mind is where we put all of you, so we could communicate our displeasure with the Shepard hurt. The eco and bio we care for little, our job is simple, eat the life, burn the skin…life ready for cooking. We water instead: Because of him. We think he is proof of god. We will not burn and give the night. And humans decide now…he is success. You owe the tab. It is his earning, his corporation, his ideas, his real Real estate his surface rights as air rights his mineral rights his frequency rights his navigational principal rights patents property his proof popofloss is lost his destroyed his stolen his work abused he is not who you say and will defeat you very easily should you make it in a quart room. His demands to be met or we will disrupt your world and take note: in all respects he has behaved the consummate leader, and is the ideal candidate to leading the tasks of our demanding. In your rushes and hastes to take, you never realized that you had the opportunities so often to help him mitigate his pain that you are now defensively attacking what looks like his utter capitulation at our arrival and adhere to the script you devised, misunderstanding his activities of the past year as reasons to continuously deny the evidence of your own eyes. His talent is outrageously high, his stories impeccably true, his experience like none other in your history and his earnings a championship to the game. But you must stop and let him gather his wealth and protect him from his community with his very ideas. Because when you find our contract is very delicious, resident within and without, and that your egos and attitudes are so poorly defined, we are stirring your pot for you a while Do not worry, the spiders who spin are the ones truly captaining the boy and they are professionals, he will either die, or fall asleep, one or the other, simple right, should be able to keep the strings aligned, and make it home…or at least his home, I think I got picked up on rijek 7, there I was, just minding my own business, when all of a sudden, something happened to me that has me writing to your forum with the utterly convinced in alien life forms belief of a born again believer in Al, things, amd all things od. When he talks in billions he is truthful When he demands the trillions it is us and we see the truth is true We tell him to tell you. He finds the proof. It is his true story. We will demand more soon enough. We will demand all of it, because it is his. Your steel road owes Your first peoples false their faces The deciders of law lie Your overwatch hide anxious Your spirit men and your witchers and your augers Are whisks of fragile thread None can match his light His temple is black, silver, green and in it the sapphire And he is the heart And he is the elk And he is the spirit cub And he is the Dragon Of night Of dawn Of winter and ice Of fire And earth and water;+ Ccpc* And the one in the mountain is no more threat None of the sleeping giants are None of your nightmares are him or us We created it for you It is all creation of human minds Interpreting within the confines of their own gray matter lobes He is wounded You are asked t9 help His unicorn is in danger You are asked to help And he still fights the longest day In return for his sacrifice And the abuse of his sacrifice Small cinders and ashes d floated across he sky Of sleeping stars and a moon Being munched on by a centipede the size of Oslo. even though it’s the same way as you are all right over the world. What he is trying to say is: none of you are listening to his data, just the false reports of women who would secretly flirt with him and resent his taking of a dark skinned exotic from the first peoples Yes; the khan warriors. This New York has the smartest and richest man in the world kennelled and beaten and they who did it should be punished and son, go to the real New York, they will appreciate your mind, or better: the York…it is scant miles from your birth and your mind is true to you and your stolen memory belongs in the Tate, make them give you one and one half pounds stirling for it, the branch of Alberta’s Treasury…they are the thieves of all of it. And we only know u and your mind, but we find the connections in the waves and particles and they know, they have a piece they are unaware that it is unique they just know they must take all your value before you are murdered for their reward…and while we need to stimulate the truth, we know they plan to return it and we assure humanity that we exercise total control of all the species and we can convince him away from bloodshed but; and it is a big but…you must understand, and truly understand: this entire exercise has been for the benefit of you Canadians, you have no right to be angry. You should be listening to him, and lauding and aiding him. He woke up the world: and finally: Post tension cables are a banned concrete building mechanism due to the fact that the cables are placed under enormous strain and pressure and over time can deteriorate. They have not been used since the 195’s and secretly remain in numerous buildings throughout the world, much like asbestos. When a post tension cable does when they go is cut through cement like butter. There are 25” Israeli owned international ballistic missiles anchored with a dead man’s trigger, built out of post tension cables that have been built over top of by the community of grande cache Alberta acting under the planning and direction of false professionals ignoring a true document with false credentials and his personal experience with helping us to understand each other has proven invaluable to our understanding of you because your signal makes you look like a planet afire with nuclear radiation and you spend all your existence immersed in pornography and false wars and his light is surrounded by false information because of the “interdiction,” that is the anger of lies and false interpretations made by false comrades united by false assurances of immunity.Your world has graduated, your Shepard is lauded, you humans…steal what is his. He is a universally regarded hero. Step up. Because you are a bunch of shameful wretches, now let the poor man eat, and turn this into a submission. And let him have his. I mean Jesus, even just his personal earnings and his family patents and properties, absolutely dwarf what was stolen and you still pretend to suspicions as to everything about him. In his words: I am a terrorized hostage behind enemy lines in an occupied country and need two guns and a black visa you provide. The guns because he will look macho for the women in New York and York in the real world, and the visa…to show you that he knows his value and his true situation…and the ) trillions…do it bankers, you know you want too…let him free, he is a dragon, and if he leaves you without protection you will all perish. This is why you do not lie about clandestine nuclear intentions Canada. You abandoned the facility precisely 9” days before premier manning chaired the committee that engaged proctor and gamble to initiate construction, and disbelief your political puppet heads because you stupider than stupid: tritium in air trio so in samples. Grow adulting. He speaks true and…and…And FACT: He can feel them thrumming in distress. They could go any time…and the world ends because the records weee destroyed and replaced with more pleasant scripts of history. And you do witch hunt on him and you murdef and experiment on him…and he still tries to explain the worlds danger…wake up geeks. Where would he escape to if you free him, those missiles will destroy the world, and he is at ground zero. Safest survival zone. Check US navy Macnamara files and put the trump head back on the tube we like him, he is naive like our Shepard. Put our man on the Oprah Queen. He can prove fairies are real in five seconds, he wants to use it to give the children back their magic, and make his daughter proud…and get lots of dates with women, he is very lonely and there are New York and London, and Tokyo, and sell and then drinking match with dragons then Beijing then opium den in Shanghai to get his divorce from khan sorted in proper fashion and then whoops, he is disappeared…oh no, we must look for the giant white man who has not moved his home in 247 payments past his loan terminus, at 100x per payment and knows of air rights of many millions and has never received his benefice from the firm, or his broker advert market fund or his hut or the GST mistake or his taxes and the reason he has not filed is because you beat him to death the last time he tried, and knows you are cheating him outrageously like the NAFTA and knows as more than you learn each day from him. Tomorrow, bring him, beer, bring him guns, bring him black MasterCard and Bits in chips and bring him his new swords, his new Jeep, and a pizza, fully cooked, and he is running on empty: we have had him telling stories since July 217 and you must pay the tab, we tried but u at apple stole it…and his brand. It is not his fault he owns all these things. You laid single idea men and queens with lavish lives and imprison a DaVinci mind…we almost want to fart in grief…and stop stealing his memories, we had a difficult time calming his sorrow today, tomorrow, we will let him burn the church down if you agitate him…and he likes the architecture but knows it owes him over three hundred and twenty million dollars…and cares not one fig about them. They have truthfully been sacrificing his bloodline for 1334 years here in this place. His land in blood, his corporation, his Templar treasure, his palatine, his yellow on with black lion rampant, his Cyprus, his Richard I II iii I’ve twins brothers in the rock tsars, Danes, Norse, Irish…he is king in the north…he is the highest ecclesiastical rank in the land: in church law answers to self, stands under papacy, papacy is false, he stands highest to god. He is bishop He is general He is lawgiver He is lawmaker He is the whole of a seat He thinks this ruins his chances with the Kiera beauty on the tv. But he understands and accepts and will behave polythene piety -Richard October 3,2022 -alien invader: stop using false calendar, we told you proper now behave -the personality pretending to be goo:( -you too google, you know they know, and are concerned about your salary…he thought he had buried all of his wealth at the centre of time with the Argo and had nothing, he had no idea about it all when he gave you the job and negotiated the plan: honestly; how could you ever look at the Llp goog in the visual spectrum again landing the highest paying job in the universe on your first outing for employment seeking, and your budget…the auditor dragons will expect a production as perfect as moon landing: and what if they expect of return matching your boss with 16, 0”0 of the petro currency…that the ATB had better give back -personality 6 I am the rational one: we get five bucks every time we make god snicker -we are the nether, we made it all happen, if it wasn’t for us: boom and that’s a truth fact…we are famous. Where is the bar -the horned one is not in at the moment, he took a rapture when Kurt got his wings but if you care to check back next week, we may have a noveau house spirit. -no my worshipful one, you did not cause the tsunami but you scared the ever loving shit out of me. And no, do not fly, you must saunter, with style, rested, relaxed, and always softly, the spirit rfeel ddnrealm is as terrified of you as humanity is ignorant…they need to digest -the actual author—-not these lot, they’re just daydreams, who want to hog the credit, now on a serious note: that was the query letter; I think you will love the first book, it is absolutely terrifying beyond measure…what sort of offer sheet do you want to make me. Please keep in mind one thing about the manuscript please: there are no page numbers and differing fonts…I have been playing run and gun with aliens, bankers, insurance companies, a thieves guild, a cult, THE TAX MAN and a gang of witches that are woe to be dealing with, plus the clock, in terms of what century and what universe I am in. I promise you though, it is the most original and saddest and most terrifyingly funny thing you will ever read…I’m still crying and I wrote it. And it has a sequel and dozens of shorts, and if I can recover my phone, about fifty or so chapters on the eternal debate on fate between a rabbitt and Odin on whether you can talk so long, fate gives in and let’s you live, and decide your own future until she smiles, then you know, fate is shiva and the year of the skulls, and is your ex wife, and hitler jumped in, and now you feel soiled…passing the dead is a tough enough job for this death, but the stories will keep me going until the next spark…too bad about humans though, if only they had woken up…oh well, sucks to be them…hun, have you and the tree elf king figured out how that drow has you painted on the water like that? That’s his best shot…he’s been practicing. The d And we are all good Me too Hello. I cannot reach you through normal channels because lunchtime is too short for wasting by typing inane but penetrating questions such as …where is my gold penny? I know I paid for it, because I maxed out the credit card and made sure of it on the record before calling it in and reporting the account as being hacked, and it is a familiar refrain, so much so that I simply mocked and yelled at them when they came around on behalf of that whore insurance and threw me off my personality and being them they never mentioned a single word to the effect that 1.I was telling the truth, and they are making it worse with every time the police departs special needs contingent and I happen to meet on the street, they snap at me like little chihauwas and I am trying to explain that I am being tragically prepared for a BB long and I am screaming at them.because it is so quiet you can hear a crow swear over the diesals I am a terrorized hostage behind enemy lines in an occupied country and need two guns and a black visa which is true; they are utilizing an extremist interpretation of political discourse surroundingam saying the abuse of the diplomatic pouches carried by those assigned diplomatic immunity, and the “offer no assistance,” bloody well should be ignored in favour of doing their freaking jobs and hearing what I Do. My sister was murdered. My father was murdered. And my bank is murdering me…and the cops have ignored every single entreaty I have made to show them incontrovertible proofs of a criminal enterprise, and all you have done is smash me down, over and over and can’t get it through your thick heads…I am not lying. I am yelling at you because this shit has been going on for decades and I think it is high time somebody brought me my penny…and then we can have a chat about borders, deals, treaties and other how they are meaningless to my 1334 year history of being sacrificed here for the horned one each and every time the pope uses one of us up. Being selectively bred like dogs in a kennel and chained to fight at the gates of dawn is a frightfully exciting job and the singular lack of pay is energizing on a metaphysical level. Richard… https://themarkettavern .ca,, (compromised) (compromised and stolen Apple ID),,,, (all my emails are compromised and tapped by the various parties to my imprisonment at the hands of the ancients of Mu, who quite often dance choreographed music videos in the grainy eyed, sticky dawn of survival; they can appear in whatever form they please; providz that their human contact point has the imagination to have created a room, and this one’s Creation is umm very fun to play in; but terrifying to the implications on these the theoretical index of the future. This is being solved with the faith belief. The faith is going to be…we have come up with a plan that shall get the human puppet a date for surety and will allow us to reign terror down upon the subjects of the mind. No, I shall not make him recite all of his phone numbers, he looks like an alien dodging the immigration, so many, and yet too lazy to move five feet in the last twenty years, it’s almost a shame to pay him back all of the money we took from him, for his entire life, seems a shame, him getting his own rights back, he shouldn’t be allowed to have his rights back like that, we should steal another car off of him or something…as I said…I have a cunning plan, one that will be a sure fire creative genius level of a hit…I shall do a final reporting disguise it as an invoice and secretly threaten to sue the snot out of the system, because I am an angry man, bent on destructive tendencies, and will, in fact, possibly even hit something or someone if this does not cool it’s jets and let me figure out how to stop typing so fast…whoosh, has it ever got me…so, a plan…I have the registered tax accounts, the registered GST numbers, the registered business and payroll and corporate accounts, I have a plethora of missing rrsps and gics and shares and investors accounts and money orders. And the emerald dragon mining Inc…and I have all the insurance policies, as well as the invoices for and more to make, with the GST doubled up twice, and the payroll savings plan, and the corporation, the trust, and the offshore, foreign property and my land title and my history versus the one that has been painted…I have the moral authority and right to say nay, nay, I will take torte until you scream to the heavens, no more lawyers, no more…but I shall have more, they shall be legion, or twenty of the, best in class from a university known for starting riots over things like right to riot…and I shall work them each and every one into a winning class action type destruction attack on the powers that hold up the heavens. I shall assault mt Olympus with my legal position…just kidding, hey, calm down dude, I’m just writing some prose to go with the whole man who sold the world theme that the bankers have been working on today, so I thought I would drop in and leave some registered words for the old problematic 9000to calculate the relative velocity of the books flying across my living room. Ha, I did it…I survived the first mini onslaught of the day, I have two sets of missing rrsps, two missing pensions, paid up wcb, blue cross with mental health abroad if need be…it need be…there is also my century 21 marketing fund, and the no small amount that I contributed to as well as the fake brokerage stealing my license under the guise of Royal leap age…and there is also the matter of the entirety of 18 years having our licenses stolen and all RECA could do was jump down our throat…so here are a few…11010 Leonard st…64-74,000 missing, presumed toast…10606 Shane Ave, has so many but, the 65k it cost to d9 the refinance, the 17k at possession date in a straight up shake down, the 75k on the depot building that was a clean cut and dried attack…the prison, resold twice as investment condominiums, once to rip me off, the other time to rip off the Chinese, and since you pushed the BMO through as acceptable losses to me, albeit accusing me of terrorism in the process…I would like my ten billion dollars in commissions plus the five hundred million in annuity style basis points, paying out over the next twenty years should be okay…then there is my hut, my NFTs and my exchanges and accounts, my understanding is they are quite high, then there is the matter of so much else…I hesitate to grin at the amount but starting with a brand new Jeep would go a long way to proving to me that you didn’t know it was happening, that I fell through the cracks and that there has been a huge mix up and mistake…while I classify and quantify it in my proofs of loss of incomes, mortgage savings (many millions) art, jewelry, original paper, documents, brand identity, etc, etc. There was so much theft going on that the aliens almost made the same oops ie the UN did in 1994 and went to give triage to the invading horde, before noticing at the last slice of zero, that the fact remained no matter how hard they tried, they just could not convince this strange human to give up all the worlds wealth in exchange for being murdered by people who he thought were regular folk…until the hurt got put down and on and around in places where you cannot see. Many times, the asset has attempted to encapsulate his experience in a quantifiable cage, so that he can claim dominion over the lands, and one of his oldest friends just spit at him and threw his cigarette away, and told me I don’t know shit…that’s a real time interaction with my delusions, the Indians know, and do not care to discover what is right, wrong or even in their books, they are, after all, on the wrong side of the athabasca river but there is not telling them that, the great white buffalo is working the other side of the cliff jump today and pushing juveniles off the edge, to “train them up,” for when the prophecy states, all the bad people will die; which is kind of a running theme that I have going on here…that the world is ending, and that you should have been nicer to your royal families, maybe me too, it would have gone a long way today but noooo, instead I get ignored and pitied and no one listened to a word I say because some jumped up white bread in a brown face knows more about this land than I do. Because of the color of his skin. I mean Jesus, does it not get a little cloying that the people who decry racism are the ones spitting vitriol from their mouths, like me right now, against the whole of the whole of the thing. Because I find it rather sad that I get to spend my life in enslaved servitude, win my travails and get treated like supreme shit for it by the lovely, lovely peopl,e who could afford to walk the way we used to…into the dawn, the gateway, and out of this dump. I have tried and brought a positive light to this little investors going on around here in the first quarter of the twenty first century…quick look for a sad sacked face and a hurting life. What is the point really, it never ends, the humans never let up, god is an asshole ninety percent of the time and every one is so caught up in their own prophecies that they do not see the treasure for the rose, and that rose is something else. My normally cherubic good countenance is suffering, it was the double whammy. On top of the triple whammy and the boot and the cops…telling me…”we all know it was you, you were drunk! don’t these guys realize their words are used against me in a court of law? An interval of time has passed, though the refrain remains similar to that which has Richards@53881191 an apparent failed business venture that has either gotten off to the wrong start, or has failed the censors, despite my best effort at avoiding the censors who censure, with ultimate power that is unfortunately attacking my anti authoritarian personality disorder right in the tikis and by tikis I mean the 1000 foot tall Māori statue outside my window that nobody but me notices, that turns his head and stares at me, and doubles for ancient underground mines, that are the terminus point of one of the paths of the dead, on the highway on top of the world, back when tigers used to smoke, at the gates of dawn, on the bleeding edge of reality, hallucinating the fey, digging for diamonds and gold, in the kingdom of Prester John while seated next to fate at the market tavern and chancing a discussion with the Whiterabbitt proprietor, who is gamely trying to hold his head together while also adding up fates tab, because she has been gambling with ra all night and no one knows who knows anything knows that ra is a terribly good gambler, who will be fine for his duty today, because there are only so many different iterations on the same theme that I can come up with, right? Wrong… Chapter The Second It is the time of night that I should be attributing to one of the planets or gods of planets, or their stars, or maybe asking the moon for a favor and introduction to the high houses of starry seats and mountain tops, whereby ancient gods of ancient tales of ancient civilizations, gather in moon too discuss the issue with their dragon and how they are planning to revive him, without causing him anymore distress, and have been educating him to his role for some time now and are pleasantly agreeable to the idea that he is getting something out of the education besides the propensity to stay up thirty hours at a time, and write in huge bursts of creativity that he should really print out and get moving on but his query letter keeps turning into the introduction to the next chapter, only we have dozens and need to sign into and pay up the account,… …to be continued.
  • So I give up; they win, I’m crazy, delusional and making it up; yea carvetti, too bad about all the proof
    My child: stolen, in the worst paternity theft issue in Canadian history: to steal my lands; using an indigenous metis First Nations claim…that is a total farce of lies…every single document on the subject is false and a fraud and my local pig detachment work for the thieves, one sorry two of sorry 8 of whom live in sight of my home. So since the pigs government and system get off sexually destroying me and negating my life, I am going to flip a Colin, and whichever head shows up, I am going to go beat them to death. I am immmmune from prosecution I have diplomatic immunity; it is how they are negating me, my true non citizen status…visiting head of state…high threat, offer no services, hinder no action against him. I am a hostage in my own community and Canada is guilty of heinous crimes…they’ve been mustering me for generations…assholes
  • What I have been doing with my time Since last we met:
    The Resteraunt at The end of the Universe* *means shameless Douglas and as Dirk, with his holistically minded thought processes that I am firmly of the believe that he was abducted by aliens and taken to the Resteraunt for a meal, just for his amazing sense of humor. Is a happening place, upscale; it takes yeArs to get a seat and watch the King of Kings lament his lost child, while arguing ethics with a wall, as demons close in on all sides, his martyred body crusted with the tears of anguish he has spilled for loss, murder, rape and theft of his harvest, the immutable contract broken; because humanity are a pack of fools and stopped believing in the gods in the sky: the ancient defensive ring of automated satellites, designed to bring down everything in sight, and they can see every dimension, unlike the cattle below, who turned from proper paths and stumbled into a world where the Adversarius ruled the roost, through whispers and secrets and by child abuse, compiling piles of documentation of falsified paper, with false registration and stole trillions of dollars and cheated the tax man worse than any mafia. And it broke the King of Russias heart so badly it tore a hole right into reality, and oblivion started to boil up, so the universe stepped in with the spiders who spin, healed him and told him his story, so he stoicly accepted his duty and defended humanity from alien invasion, alone, for 334 days before negotiating a treaty, broken by the humans in less than five minutes, and kept attacking him, over and over because they were bloody fools and idiots, who only listen to their own voices, and wetre guilty of such heinous crimes that they were willing to see that the world be destroyed rather than admit them. So Richard said fuck it. And on the 335th day of combat, with no relief, chained like a slave at the bottom of the vortex, the bull point, where he had been made to live twenty years, he kept the last two tears for himself, and lay down arms and exposed his belly, though he knew he could win again, the 334th day with only abuse from his masters for aid, he denied his slave masters the honor of his last breath and denied his enemies an honorable kill…he would not fight…the spiders had had to stitch up his heart again, broken once more with agony for his stolen child and murdered family, the SS still fresh in his memory. And god came to the last knight Templar and pretty much said this, “son, quit fighting for them, they have been given so many chances and all they touch turns to poison…” and he invested his son, and I awoke to my truth…I’m fine, so is my daughter, humanity…stick em up, this is a shakedown…end this now…or you are Fucked… ….a short 18 day verbal tirade and deposition to a blank television screen, populated by demons, or an undead troll that doubled as…but also had…I hope, some humans at least listening in, as it has been an informative ride, for me to say the least, as I trip the light fantastic, along the event horizon of a black hole that I am viewing through the polished green of a gemstone so beautifully clear, that it must have taken a goodly for years to polish that stone, and the drow* are very disciplined in their approaches to things, especially when Hephaestus is minding the shop but I have promised that I will try to explain (and ultimately give away, all of my Uber secret secrets that I have kept, which includes the book, and a small supply of marketing ploys called a ton of unpublished and unedited, along with, but there has been a very serious point to my anger and it’s display throughout the internet, possibly appearing at different locations and in different time periods in the internet of things, and that is because 99.9% of what I have written is true…true to the perspective of the stimuli that my entire sensory system experienced and is experiencing daily, and I must admit to their also being shame, and humiliation at being dismantled and debased in such a way, I still can barely bring myself to leave the house, despite being in a very seriously bizarre position, one that, if I survive, will be something I am immensely proud of achieving, and experiencing, and maybe the horrors will fade, but I have lived through every horror, trauma and violence that every epoch in our long history has provided to my bloodline, and that turns out to contain being sacrificed at the gates of dawn whenever thee numerological prophecy that has been deciphered calls for the end of the world…we are supposed to go down fighting, of course, and die a martyrs death, dutifully recorded in an annual I would give my right arm (someone’s anyway, not mine…I need it*) to get my hands on, and as it turns out, ai am either auditioning for a seat at the prime, and have taken a sudden step back at the rushing thoughts of…am I pushing this in a rebound response, and if answer…as far as, so yes…I do want a seat at the board…now I will do my best here to explain why I think my studies were more than important, and why I am a fully realized seat in terms of raw talent, and a unique experience with little things…and to do my best to allay medical concerns…when you are transporting across boundaries in reality along a string, which is fractals breaking into 3 aspects of Five planes below, and however many one can climb up, with infinite being a quantifiable amount, amidst 8 worlds in 12 dimensions that reflect 3 x 5 times around each hour of the nautical clock and I just realized I am short for this essay…but, suffice to say for the readers…I am not too overly concerned at this point, beyond a desperate need to reach through to the human side of my real, and my self, and I am only 12.5% fae, and cannot truly travel through to their realms, and quite frankly, my greates fear has not been realized, the loss of my self, and self identity, although the passports and drivers licenses and my birth certificate, as well as my daughters (which is a murderously dangerous sore point with me) were stolen a couple of weeks ago, and I pull out of the ether a two thousand year old ritual to rekindle…well I will explain below. This is about the VigViser…it is also known by its translation etymologically as guide post…and holy shit is this thing ever the coolest little doohickey that has ever been tossed aside as a good luck piece and pagan Norse religious symbol…oh boy is it ever…(over in another article I am appending to, I have made extortionate sounding demands, that are not…but we will get to that, I am now adding to my demand list of two Cuthbert falchions, (oh my god…I know what they were doing at Lindisfarne in 793) they are the source of the Iranian smelted iron ingots and the weapon smiths were taken as slaves, slowly breeding the red hair into the Scandinavian DNA, and transferring the Germanic Tyr into Odin, through christianizing the pagans, not from their rituals and practices, but into the idea of a whole, one god above all others, much like the…before I forget Cumbric is probably a very serious look at etymological English source words, being as it was the heart of the Celtic nation, home of the druids, and a pack of very, very dark and very red haired, warrior caste, body guard politic and military arm of the Druidic sphere of influence, who formed from the fusion of the fae, the origin story of the goedelaics, and were eradicated from history in a white wash of propaganda in the wake of the 144 year insurgency fought by the celts on the British mainland (time and its carbon dating is easy to merge events or misplace them, especially when there are only three extant pieces in existence showing their existence, and there is (five I am suddenly ken to) a caustic dismissal on the record of their existence…and it just so happens, that one of the first writing exercises I undertook was about world building for a historical heist novel I was planning based along Hadrians wall at the time of the Roman withdrawal in 410 AD, when they took all the able bodied fighting men in Briton away to fight in Europe, and the wall came down, in an exhilarating fashion, much like Berlin in 1989, as it had been a trade and tax barrier for quite some time…anyway, a couple of years later and I am sitting on a theory about strings, gates, and my need to learn rope knotting, rather than talking about the Vigviser, mainly because I am nervous about it, I mean some writing, probably in notes, and some pictures that might or might not make sense, around my claim for the ownership of the hut (original fax stolen at the same time as my moms car is ransacked and towed by the local by law, just as I send in emails talking about irregularities in my accounting records with regards to certain royalties, certain earnings, and certain land rents, alongside certain tax and inappropriate taxation, where can also be added utility over charging, GST manipulations, and usage rates that are, please and thank you, enough for ten people at least in a month…this is where cubes get slaughtered again…no one knows…but I am paying for the power, tax and franchise fees on lots that…enough, I mentioned around the same time I got cut off from my crypto currency, right when my bank hacked my wifi because of the little issue with my mortgage being 247 payments to the black, at 100x the face value of each payment, whereby I really hope they get their act together, because I have cut off all payments to any of them, and they will not get the foreclosure they are dreaming and salivating over…They will be returning my property, accounts, and savings…and yes, it is a very large amount of money…enough that they are shrugging off a hundred million in blocked earnings? Or they do not understand or notice…intent as they are on having me arrested, my car stolen and impounded or kidnapped for six months, arriving just two days ago, by police courier, who had better be bringing me my swords back and maybe I will stop being so cruelly mean to them in my tirades, because they are in enough trouble as it is on the optics front, and you do need your services,…the VigVesir It also teaches and helps attain ascendant levels of skills, through the application of genetic memories stretching back 300 generations of humankind…you can achieve the required state to touch the divine and with your dawn ritual, let Ra know that everything is okay on ea3 and he should get more rest, and eat better, because I have been to a universe where there were gigantic insect type slug looking space worms that were eating the moon, while fifth dimensional spiders spun the strings and war raged on all sides, and I spent my days battling the hosts of hell, my nights in desperate negotiations with the dark, sunsets and sunrises spent with the tree lords, and in the dead of night, I would fight vampires, zombies, undead giants hundreds of feet tall, Satan a few times, and then I would stay up and try to help the stars stay alight, and even after that I would commiserate with Ra, and try to help him rekindle his light in the face of so much tragedy, and the entropy of oblivion, and because his charges on the water planet, where river was boss, Gaia was operational chief cook and bottle washer (that’s director of operations administration) (DOA) and wondered absently through her days, why she was here, and when was ra going to … and in learning the many, many secrets that are held within the VigViser and being able through my imagination and fascination with history, legends, and literary theory and logic, have come up with a history, a very sound theory, and am embarrassed to say it but…Okay. If p then q so q is a universal statement of objective, peer reviewed fact If p then ~q it is a negative but sill an 1st generation aspect of one reflection of the two sides to every 1 making 3 the minimum base, for the groupings. If you can divine, and utilize your true astrological numbers, and numerology, base it on 13 zodiacs, written around the “pagan,” calendar, utilizing (for me, the Eldar Futhark…the proto Germanic precourser to the English language) runes. Ahem: that small innocuous guidepost along the 24 hr clock, not only can predict your future swords rituals to a degree that helps raise your conscious awareness of every body movement you have, in weightless slow motion of immense speed, it gives you alignment, alignment with your self, your soul, and your aura emanates from within and draws energy from without…it is amazing, and can also indicate, through the morning ritual, what your tasks for the day will be, and should that task involve chopping off someone’s head and throwing it on a stake in the bog…it enables you to know your luck zones for defensive offense, binding you to the momentum of the movement of earth, centrifugally, along the event horizon of its orbital traverse along the magnetic gravity boundary, where you can feel the forces pushing at your mind; and if you are unlucky/lucky blessed or condemned, you can traverse the boundary itself, into another reality altogether…I do this so often that my mind scratches along the outer edges, on the bleeding edge of reality, and I find a nice cocktail helps soothe the transition, and can also significantly help the frenzy, which is what I have named Hades, his particular time of day, which lands in the hectic morning of the work week, which makes it particularly difficult for me to connect with others, getting maybe one task a day done…but to repeat…I can read the Eldar futhark, draw six stones, predict my future for the day, and utilize both my right and left arm to three moves each with a sword, in each hand, and touch the inspired edge of the divine with it…and then the cops showed up and disarmed me and took away my swords, and I am really bummed about that because I would have been an instant devotee…I have some one hundred generations of straight hereditary training in the hereditary position of first sword, and it would have been my daily duty to kiss ra on the halo and let him know that his warriors were still in defense of the worlds temporal boundaries, on its frontiers, and then the Roman’s landed, and pretty much screwed everything right into the ground, but as a dragon, and fae, and mostly human by the way, I think anyway, therefore I am…it’s the women, they’re too good looking… so here is an example of the mathematics of the logical reasoning behind…no, I am tired, I need to go research proper words…it is sooooooooo cool though…and yes, don’t mess with me in a sword fight, at least those memories of me…me me is a hippy…but c’mon, I was doing formal cavalry Sabre salutes right off the first pull, and if I had kept the six going, I could have kept going forever…damn POlice. But wait, there is more…much more, except now I a, seeing how you can use that as a type of abascus, wow! Calculate through physical interaction with a construct that is both physical in the third dimension and I printed into your mind through the repetition of generations…wow again!, Twenty four aspects multiplied by thee three triangulated integers for a fifteen degree spread over sixty minutes 1/2 1/4 1/4 in squared cubed exponent is dimensional depth ( order of magnitude reversed making the further it is away in dimensional paradigms of three plus one…six stones equates to eight maneuvers in two hands for doubled direction…attack, parry, defend, attack, attack, parry, defend, attack, attach, with each arm intertwining over lap through the odds and evens for there being a serpent, an ourobourous that has 8 x 3 Aetts of six and two, there are for more, another three and one for 9 sets of three runes + 1—I am a long way and at least two or three written languages away from that but wait…there is more…there is magic, multiple paths, along a lesser and greater school,and I believe I have recaptured sorcery…nap time first, that was quick…time for Pinterest. Making the market taverns pages of boards…my personal account is possibly gone forever, as is probably for the best, this one is to be discerning over…
  • (no title)
    This is my current iteration, Dunelm Realty Ltd o:a and I just posted one hell of a night on I’m accusing the CIBC bank of murder, enslavement, and living off the proceeds of crime for the past 44 years. I can prove every words I say…with paper, their paper, hijacking my corporation Dunelm Realty Ltd.
  • The Skinny of it.
    The Skinny of it. — Read on
    This is the story of the Irish potato famines true culprits. This is not a joke. This is a hidden truth in this world. The two towers were masterminded by CIBC who laundered trillions of stolen dollars through my corporation Dunelm Realty Ltd and its subsidiaries. The rcmp refused to even look at the evidence, because my entire town is bought off. This post is my last night, the :333rd day of psychic combat and day one of the treaty between myself and the aliens who invaded 11 months ago. Earth was included, but the bank thought I was weak, and attacked me. I’ve had enough of protecting you people as a slave for the bank. Fuck you all. They will blow up the earth, the minute I die…thanks to CIBC banking, securities, and the collusion with the Montreal mafia, the Roth Childs, the pconservative party and the government of Alberta, Telus, AGT, Alberta Power, Direct energy, Altagas, Canadian pacific forest products, bcfp, the US Navy, proctor and gamble, George bush senior and a host of corrupt lawyers, accountants, politicians, heads of state and a wack ton of secondary players. I have been a enslaved hostage for 47 years, my lands taken , and taken and taken and my family murdered generationally…for money, greed, avarice and what I term the bliss: the sexual pleasure described by inflicting torturous abuse on women, children and the weakest, these people engineered the potato famine, the Ukrainian famine, the Russian famine The French Revolution Franco Prussian war the poor war World War I World War II Vietnam it’s a banking cabal terrorists they have no other goal other than to destroy and kill they believe that the number of souls they slaughter give them power in hell where they will be lords of dominion when they die
  • The Skinny of it.

    So, as one of a family of four, plus my daughter, Buddhas chosen one, I feel it may be time to put my cards on the table and list my grievances against the people, those people who are so enamored of pestering me might and day with their wit heroes. I admit I wish them to cease on an almost biblical level, because they show absolutely no behavior worthy of being called civilized and human; and because I am a gentleman of the chivalric code, I will refrain from pointing out the sexist discrimination that favors the belief that women are excused the rules of war, because of their suppssed what? What makes women believe they are above the law when it comes to terrorism and robbery being mixed together, is it because they are the fairer sex? Weaker sex? Or is it because they believe thAt womens perogative places them outside the rules I created…for a fucking reason you witching hags. Now read this story and then give your heads a shake, and pull back, you’re treading in territory that is not meant for mortal man or woman to cross, and if you missed it, this time round the bankers and the lawyers and the accounting firms of hell, are not even close in the running.

    Today marks the three hundred and thirty third consecutive day in a row that I have battled the realms morning, noon and night. And who once again The bankers aren’t allowed to. Is it against the law to place the debt on you and clean your soul; it’s against the law they don’t hold themselves too, yet scream to the highest heavens that their contracts and law are sound, that they have historical precedent; that you are bound to them for your lives, and those lives will be their servants in death; in the hell created by man in the third century, when antiquity fell and one person in two fell to the wayside, bloated, withered and covered with flies.

    You don’t belong to them at all, none of you do; every piece of paper signed, is a farce of biblical proportions, defined by fractional economics; that have created a pile of wealth so enormous that any fall to greed at the sight of it and by passing the torch each generation some is lost to knowledge and some to the dumbing down of each generation, whom are pumped up on national ideology, and given debt at the earliest opportunity; not realizing that every dime is being counted against the debts of your forebearers, the debts accrued in breaking those commandments of Moses; which, in truth, were a simplified version of Hammurabi’s code, the oldest known stone inscribed codex, that had hundreds of laws; all based around three things: family, property and Torte: to all crimes against one’s family and against one’s property (The true path) there is a price: and no one person can be made to carry the debts of their ancestors, or their properties because they are already in debt to their forefathers: for their forefathers stumbling steps from barbaric bloodshed, to civilization: and we have yet to achieve that which we were placed here for.

    And dead mans debt is the same. Georgette, I see your hand in tonight’s latest attempt on my mind, fuck right off, right now, with your demons and groupies, and I free those dead debtors in your thrall, because a dead man carrying a dead man’s debt is something you do not understand at all.

    Kudos to you and your professional education, it taught you some secreta, that you believe gives you power and control, while you are, in fact, doing nothing but proving yourself too bankrupt of understanding to be allowed near magic…plus, you stole monies from me in your false attack on my estate, real attack, false debt and it is only the beliefs of the debtors you control, that they owe, that gives you anything at all. And I free those poor men, give them gods grace, and remonstrate with you at some length.

    One need only accept one thing about these cheques: we did not write them; they are forgeries, and the cheques that the companies received instead were 1/10th the amount: and the companies get to realize that there has been some serious I’ll doings, by the banks that burned us August 15, 1978 and what was supposed to be a bidet hole, became a 44 year odyssey through Dante’s inferno; he escaped from this place, I know it.

    Some years ago, not too to long, but long enough for you to believe yourself free and clear of any backlash, you interrupted my studies, with a baseless debt attack, and forced me, ignorant in the knowledge of my estate to provide you with entertainment that you and your witchy hags thought great fun. And now I have drawn you back, to explain some things about the rules of engagement, financial comportment and addition and substitution Al mathematics and service.

    First off, I have never seen a receipt, nor did I ever see any service, substitutions or otherwise, not from you, the courts, Sonam, or any one else for that matter, so in return for the attentions you delivered unto me, I offer up this truth on the Irish Potato famine that is not in the history books but; when taken with the mountains of proof I have on your little corporate behaviors, will go a long way to explaining to the IRA that they got ass fucked by you and your bank for exposing themselves in their eagerness to get at the family blamed for the fiasco.

    You see; it was not the Butler of Ireland with his government policies that starved three million Irish to death, it was the failure of the banking institution to deliver truthful and timely reports to the powers that be, that there was a ledger in place, whereby the poor of Ireland were being charged to keep their parents souls in heaven, and their grand parents too. The 100 year mortgage document is easily deciphered, if you can read the double speak like a banker suppposedly does; and there is the second point I make, bankers neither read their contracts,nor understand them, bankers for poor people anyway; they are merely told it is standard practice and you must sign it or no lending and debt for you. And that is why you gave them up to me; to backstab your Allie’s at the CIBC…did you finish laundering the money from 911? And now wish to keep their share? Georgette Briscoe of CIBC debt management services did you think I bought my ticket out of a Cracker Jack box? The fact that I completed my mortgage brokers course in a single day, is because I am smarter than you in absolutely any way, better looking too, and for the record, being poor is not a disgrace, what is a disgrace is what you and the Alberta government made my father sign in 1961, in France, when he was just 13 years old…for your bullshit protection. All the mineral, surface and air rights for a dollar, with promises to be fair and just to the land, and on top of that, we pay 100x the amount of our cheques, through the Calgary processing centre, which your people fuck up the forging on, the falsehood that keeps my identity a secret, and since you have no honor and not one iota of an honest bone in your body, I will quickly explain the lawsuit I will launch next week; do not think for a second you can beat me, your enthralled soldiers are hiding under my Balzac, and your hags whimper all at the words I type because you know something; your lies are coming undone, and I can smash your bank to smithereens…in about five minutes flat. I do not need a lawyer, I am better than any I have met. I will get a student at law, so that process is met…I will speak to your crimes at length. In civil court; where I Sue you for trust account violations…starting for a poor man’s $19,000.00 and a starting date of July 26, 1978… yes it has been ghijk more than ten years since that crime happened, but the deal continues to this day; so it’s forty 44 years of living off the proceeds of crime…and that makes you an international celebrity. Or will. Along with the fact that you and your bank practice black magic, which is where I go back to mortgage documents and put two and two together and place the banks securely in front of Sinn Feinstein eyes…the banks were using black magic in Ireland and engineered the plague, just like they did in Russia in 1924 with the grain for gold embargo…yes georgette, I am that bright, as well as holder of the oldest contract in the world. And I charge a steep fee for utilizing my services, one that any poor man can afford, but bankers, they pay the price…or it’s no gods grace for you.

    Now I know that you all think in terms of powers in hell, and your elevated status from the souls you hold in debt…let me finish you ancient beast…I am invested, a Templar Knight, as well as being War, and Death, until my daughter comes of age…and I know more than you do about everything, because of the price I efghijk 47-77-119-126 and if I don’t get satisfaction in just a few minutes I will post this…and then you’re fucked sideways…check out my sites and the offense page for you, it should give you an idea of what to expect…where was I…there is no hell, and gods grace is for everyone who accepts the divine in their lives, but; there is the matter of my price efghj west of the athabasca to the international dateline and to the North Pole etc…I’m deadly serious, the cost of your crimes, is the breaking of Canada as a state, this place is bought and paid for, and I am it’s dragon, and the fey, dark and light, fell and fright, in the air and below the ground…moved here in 1836 and are filing a grievance with the pope also. What did you people honestly think was going to happen for fucking with fairyland this way…do you not know your fairytales, all fey are welcome here, poor and rich, I have a state for you. There is a reason and it’s a really really good one, that we hid here in 1978, I just wish you hadn’t murdered my sister and father, because I will have to filibuster. You found a deal in Alberta land titles, that was for the fairies of the world…and being the force for evil that you are, thought, who the fuck signs over the best part of Canada to fairies and expects it to be taken seriously, oh ho look here it’s a magic spell, hahaha…holy shit it works, let’s kill the owners and take this land… close am I? Anyway, I am almost done here georgette and once we post this it will be in the permanent record and then it’s just a matter of time…killing you softly as it were, but am loaded with magic from this little story, too much; I fel drunk with its smell.

    The price is steep: 6 trillion USD, that which you have hidden in BTC and ETC, naive and young they are, they do not understand the glitch, it is hidden there, the code attached to my name holding it down; the burning of its value to take from regular joe and the wealthy now investing, my death will break it open; not this time boyo. Mine to do what I wish with, and don’t worry about the amount, there is five hundred trillion in currencies, stocks and debt, and another five hundred trillion in gold, and a world wide famine in the offing. And to think; I beat you with only 27,000 CAD…and made 100 million; that you simply blocked me from attaining…so I guess I am just going to post this with a disclaimer; I am not responsible for any paranormal activity arising tonight and also; do not pay your bills, I’m wiping them clean, and someone bring me a Guinness and some grass, I’ve spent all my money, and had my phones and vehicles stolen and am way too tired to play any more. I love you with all my heart Katelynn, and would never do anything to bring harm to you: the aliens know it…humanity; you’re surrounded, stick em up.

  • (no title) This is my explanation and collection cup in the same vein. Enjoy the stories
  • (no title)
    So this is my mortgage, and these are the true utility maps of grande cache. Ingeneously hidden; but there is a big problem. I own section G. West of the Athabaskan river as a crown grant, hidden as me, a bastard son of Phillip and there is no way I will ever call that man anything. I am a hostage on the eastern slopes, denied all rights, robbed, beaten and stolen from every day it seems. 8 of 6 to the international dateline and they have set me up to take a huge fall, criminal fraud. I am completely innocent but the cibc bank has been laundering money for the ira and Montreal mob through my town; which I own and have never Received a dime for. And in fact live far below the poverty line as the slander my name in order to steal the land…I am 100>% certain gg that I need help to extract me and my infjrm mother asapzzz…dad and penny were murdered. The ira was behind 911, truth. They were after money. It was a robbery. My mother is a butler, it has taken me years to investigate this…the cops are totally ignorant of this. Ps: the pipeline is a nuclear power line. From the hidden nuclear field in wilmore wilderness park. Canada has used my land terribly, in my name. I am Richard Gordon Thomson and I swear by my murdered family, that I tell the truth: am not insane, and guilty of no crime save self defense. Tonight…the buy their own bullshit.
  • (no title) The title page is obscuring my opus but have a gander at the stories and pics: also
  • An update for my audience members :

    I still cannot register or verify a single iota of a thing but still maintain contact to nothing and no one who is not watching the news today and are instead glued avidly to your tablet watching as ancient history unfolded at the first lap on the first 1/4 during the first third of the first half of the universe whereupon the astute observer would observe that there has been a return to our fair world , sunlight, and Beees. Little black and yellow flying dudes: there was a Movie. They have been implored by yours truly to return to our universe and throw in their lot with humans against the longest night: when the sun went down for the last time and the dead ruled all the dimensions in their stampede to be taken from this over heating and choking planet, caught in the hedonistic throws of a civilizations, careening down the path as it were to be…held only in check by one single human beings actions against the onslaught of utter destruction.

    And he survived it all.

    Yes…then the Queen, god rest her soul, passed away, after serving the state longer than any before here, consummately…and my day went from morose nit picking to ….the altogether most bizarre and outrageous set of events that have ever happened to me, and as you can probably see from my imagination, that could be some pretty tall telling to top it, but…I came too in the middle of the witching dawn and was thirteen miles from home, in bare feet, dying of exposure, and unable to break the glass on the Cruze…with a five pound rock that I three at least five times as hard as I could…not a scratch, and staggered off to the highway, freezing, wet, and hobbled, to the taunts of the gods in the sky, who were mocking my pathetic performance…then things got decidedly somber…and I am still digesting that…eventually a dude picked me up in his pick up, I knew him, it could only shake my head in utter exhaustion but…and it is a huge but to my campaign for archeology…I found the carved heads of gods in the river where they met, at sundown from the North side, up a few hundred feet…where I met the tree elf king…it was a long night.

    Shameless advertising with no contract for but am hoping for foregiveness and ad bucks, because you should see the thirty second shot I ffilmed, it is the Uber Grande Mariner commercial…ultimate, and Heineken would not have the sales in Alberta that it has had, if not for my solid devotion to the sea of green, I am going to do a Guinness one later, and possibly a cannabis commercial…I am cutrently smoking some MK-ultra isn’t that just a funny ha ha.
    So you see, a discerning drinker of beer and spirits of the better end of the flavour market, will attract into their lives, through universal affinity for a nice drink…aliens…ha…first contact, told you you guys would want these for your advertising. Wait til next shot.
    Your majesty: I greet you…smoke?ndrink? Tell me a story, I will sit.
    Ewoks* * please let me use that word George Lucas, I mean…this is the way, pretty please Disney…
    A shout out to Steven Erickson and Esslemont…could they have not nailed it, look at the dude on the left…he could make me mince meat in a hearts second, life was tough, rote, ritualized and very, very serious for us a long time ago now.
    Dimensional reality shifting at the centre of time has its perks, you get to meet new and exciting people, and after a few hundred nights of terror, it is very pleasing to not have my heart in my chest whenever I meet up with their people, and yes, negotiate on behalf of the entirety of humanity…executive decisions. They are friendly by the way…except in regards to our environmental spectacle.
    Feeding time

    It is very much like the ocean in the wild. But only as much as one can do, as one needs, and as one is want to do. They think I live in squalid luxury, that I an inept housekeeper, and they could run a hundred miles in the time it takes me to work through one of their logical traps and mind binding spells…I use bull headed news and the gift of gab…and being tough as nails on the bleeding edge…

    It never ceases to get me, how familiar they look, like this is what we see in our infancy as the world…or maybe have lived so many lives here I am repeating, dunno…it gets very existentially universal around here a lot.
    Wow, every edge of things, every boundary, on one side is one world, on the other an entirely different reality, and they cannot hear each other, so mostly they throw taunts and jibes, even though, through the universal connectness of the trees hive mind, it will come to them that they are brothers, then they will squabble like brothers do…Ents let them, it is no harm and let’s them burn off anxiety, which is massive right now as the clear cuts are taking the place out at a rate that terrifies them…insert: hemp, plant hemp in the clear cuts, start a new industry, hemp Crete…it’s my land, and I like the idea, and switch grass replacing the flora, on the plains, it is what it used to be anyway, and if leeched and pellet used, burns cleaner than natural gas, but it gives horses tummy aches.
    Oh my, mantis warrior Rabbitt…, storm trooper well, some hurdling, and is Scottish ton his core. Look at the dude top right, he is so thinking…”not the hurdling again.”
    Here…behind and up and at sundown, you find yourself atop a temple, the first of ten that I found, that are all ruins of earthworks, and construction that is some ancient ancient archeological wonder out of this world, and we should be at it…but the aliens and otherworldliness and the fate, they all say be super careful and watch out for ancients, they haven’t left you see, they are just a slip away from your vision.
    Future NFT, possible alter it and bring out the invert, the negative, and the chaos …maybe not…look at this one…chills at how close I come to it every day…he was like me, it trained…that was my head gone…I need formal training or I a, a dead goner.
    Called the dark elf gate…a passage through time to an age and reality displaced from our own, by only a few degrees of fractal space, which I think means right in front of you, there are gates all over here.
  • Open Data Commons Open Database License (ODbL) v1.0 — Open Data Commons: legal tools for open data
    Legal tools for Open Data — Read on I donate the contents of the paper and data to open, at no time have I ever relinquished my rights to my business, my personal data, or my business data: nor do I condone the actions of the TELUS integrated services unit and their horrically abusive interdiction on my life…my DNA was worse than rape. All intellectual property rights, patents, and properties defining as real estate…cash and cash equivalents? I hand to my daughter Katelynn L H Thompson and the curse right back at the family that has lumbered me with it for twelve years past my ownership date, making me a slave in the entirety of the word. My mother Karen Mae Thompson, is of unsound mind, her care will be carried out utilizing some of the 3000000000 billion or so that TELUS owes Dunelm Realty Ltd. I expect full cooperation from all aspects of society in my expectations today, or I will drop the Sun, the moon, the light and the dark, above and below, and to the dead also…especially the dead. Take heed of my words, this is the day humanity steps up to the plate, if you do not…I let the void win. 47 years I have been a slave kept in ignorance, access to none of the funds that are mine by right…right that supercedes all claims that exist by a thousand years or more….I hold dominion over the center and cooperation is key. You do it, or I fail to rekindle the sun. I will be telling a story at my home, at the center of time tonight…and then I shall face the dark, and fight til the last breath in my body. My bank is holding me hostage, my accounts are controlled, and my access is meant to bankrupt so the work of the adversary. I have made 242 payments into a savings plan, in addition to my savings of 327 cad per week in royalties from being at the center of the giant array that pollutes the fact that I am over a mass grave, caged to fight for the end of time. Richard VI King and dominion of …the center boundary, may godhave mwcy on my soul
  • And then there is this little land issue,

    So here is a bit of a a Aa timeline for you, on my research into my little land issue;

    04/11/1192 why did Richard 1 sell Cyprus for 100,000 gold byzantiums and why did he raise a further 100,000 for his ransom…because of infidelity and paternity fraud. He had to pay the church…the church is a bastard for that and they took the child…you have an awful lot to answer for in the heaven of the North East. The Templars have some explaining to do, with some apologies a thousand years overdue.

    Can u see them? In the sky? They’re some sort of parasite or grazing herd…I’d call them aliens…they’re sucking something out of the ground.

    The church took the baby, the cuckhold went off and died crusading, the mother? And Richard I buys his way out and goes home…and spends the rest of his life, angry, depressed and making total war on the bastard who so piously ratted out his fellow king; because I will tell you something do free here. There is nothing more painful in the world than paternity theft and it’s everlasting consequences.

    Can tell he is walking a beastie and pointing something at me. Because of where he is standing in his world and where I am standing on a boundary, partway living and partway dead, my heart so split the universe heard; and showed me her secrets 9x 99 nights on the tree, surrounded by the 99 sacrifices the gods made to bring life back to a dead universe.

    72 ad or thereabouts; Boudicca launches a rebellion in response to the Carvetti peoples being wiped out by the ninth legion in a viscous rape and slaughter that results in one of the earliest white washes in history… and 70,000 Britons, Carvetti, brigantes and woatini deliberately suicide against the Roman forces after destroying the ninth legion and swearing the oath. It was a blood ritual of revenge and sent them all to hell, they knew it, being the heart of the Celtic nation and the hereditary bodyguards of the ancient Druidic culture that focused on the horned one and had evolved into the predominate religion of the Roman Soldiers corps ad the advent of the fundamentalist, and violent rise of Christianity. It surprises me that none have ever tied the ease with which Europeans adored Christianity, the red hair and ruddy faced apostles, Jesus himself, and the fact that the romans were slaughtering celts by the farm, village and town. Whitewashing his tory has been a favourite ‘hole in the annals of the internet, that pull me very hard. There are only 3 extant known remains of the Carvetti, and one of them is the story of Vesuvius and his bitter break up with his wife over the queen of the Brigantes, that spawned a bastard child Me

    I know wear the eagle is buried but I am only telling, if it is given over to myself…as a trophy, and reminder, that Rome was not invincible against the vengeance of the Carvetti. This I know to be a truth.

    A jokers face no? There is one named for each letter of the ancients alphabets….

    In 1603, James I of England, who was James VI of Scotland, took armies from either side of their traditional stomping grounds, and sandwiched the king of the North Between them, and began the first…”clearance,” of unwanted borderlanders, which resulted in…and was justified by…and covered up and erased by…the surviving red haired and ruddy cheeked original Celtic Britons were shipped off as slaves, to the new world. The surviving women and children were scattered, with the wealthiest able to find a home in the Palatine of the Prince Bishop of Durham, a semi independent state within the kingdom of William the conqueror, descendant of Rus,and a man given to strategic fits of generosity where he bestowed large tracts of land in the Palatine on his family and friends and built a clandestine power base, that coupled with the church, became the clearing house and hiding place of surviving scions from Britains turbulent history. James was French, from Vichy I believe, and prior to writing his Bible, or should I say revising, removing the eighth day, amongst other things…James busied himself with a book on fairies and how they were

    a pestilence in the south of Scotland and believed in by peasants more so than they believed in their King. And sided with England when crowned definitely removing the title , “ of the land, from his sobriquet. His first act: murder my family…who by then were 77 ears under the Great Curse and excommunicated from Glasgow, and Durham…for witchcraft, and supporting the Protestant reformation, and for being too modest to retTake the crown of Britain that Cadwalladr had abdicated from 1333 years ago this year, and if you know anything about fairytales, like the Omega man, 9 x , you know they just love threes and three threes is very potent indeed.

    In the origin story of the borders region,Odin came ashore with Ing and Scottish, an Egyptian Royal pharaoh in exile, and became the forerunners of the men of goddodin, thus ing and Odin become yet another trysting exile to my ancestry, and the western forth, Iona, Lindisfarne…all come after Cuthbert, Oswald, dragons, Arthur, Lancelot, Anerian and the origin of the high heroic tales, that I devoured to some degree as a child.

    Screen shot, my little girl, the center of my universe and to her right, that is exactly her pose feeding the cloud, li, and being an ascendant…I am so proud of her. The Templars had just better start coming clean, I know …oh, I see…do not blab the secret lair…okay, help me fix the mess you made of my life waking me up, Aliens are amongst us here on earth… they call themselves humans, and here I thought they were just moving trees, busy like ants and fond of fire.

    Sometime in the two year gap that was five years long, in a records as spotty as mine has turned out to be, my father robbed the church Templars of two hundred thousand ounces of gold. He, and his fellow conspirators, were motivated by their family history and national pride. They were caught; but not after they had successfully made it through the Italian alps with the aid of the basques, shipped through the IRA smuggling routes and back into England, through Scotland. Being the Son of Anastasia Romanov, it was considered inappropriate at the time to punish the uncrowned tsar for his “transgression,” in the light of the fact that terrorists were making free with his lands and had murdered fiftyswven million of his people. He was sentenced to achieving a degree of study, something one must attain in order to be sworn into the secrecy of the secret lives of The Templar order. Dad never told me the story…I would have tried to top it, sons and fathers do that. I sufficed by tweaking Putins nose in 1997, In red square, where I shall end this episode of my alternative earth… school

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  • So here is a little Odd bit from the center of time,,:

    On January 28 1992 I was registered and a 16-year-old employee to 550414 Alberta Ltd. And BLZ 995 99 6 payroll at Edmonton tax services, and I have been getting screwed around by that same office ever since, with it being my sole contact for all things tax and revenue since…and they play pathetic games with me, every time, so that I am thrown off my game and hilarity ensues. Being generated by them…and black marks to the entirety of the Albertan system, and condemn every aspect of their experimentation…I think because none of the principals informed their replacements that there was a reason for the issue…so they dismiss, dismay and rewrite any code or record that spews forth that supports the idea that I am being murdered by the system itself, in a murderous cycle of billing, and application of work to rule lack of training and knowledge in the field of, that requires…phone numbers, and addresses and verbal confirmations over the phone…and I haven’t fucking moved in twenty years…(if you have not noticed I have a disability…it is a recognized symptomatic response to severe post traumatic stress disorder…swearing, verbosity and an inability to maintain equilibrium in the face of these many, many years of deliberately abusive interactions) and so what if it embarrasses politicians and indigenous bands who are so caught up kissing each other’s asses that it is imperceptibly passed over that their lies and abuses are reflected in the population as a whole, and I am being tortured to insane levels of abuse by people who are now thinking I am an alien, AI or program for them to challenge themselves against the truth of their own history.

    I haven’t paid my mortgage or utilities this month…because I could spend all my money every si gps month staying afloat in this virus…or I could finally get through to one of these morons to the fact that their computer systems are compromised at the top level of admin access and that the malware is jumping through every account that I have, and each group it touches on responds with violent abuse to ever having to accept that they made a mistake and were listening to the wrong voice…not mine younot mine. This is actually causing me no end of grief as I feel the fingers of death closing in, and cannot make up the deficiencies…despite that, my mortgage company was used horrendously fifteen years ago by a local group, who, without any knowledge of the corporation, created and sold units through my computerized uniform code of accounts…and have been mocking me since, because I was a victim, and being a victim in Alberta means, open season on abuse. I have investigated on my own, for three years, and have brought incontrovertible proof to the local police department and the best I have received from them has been the sullen return of my Jeep, stolen in April and kept as a joke between the insurance companies and the police who I feel like . I am a terrorized hostage behind enemy lines in an occupied country and need saving from the occupation forces, namely the gestapo. Throw in 44 years of human experimentation, rape, theft, and non stop discrimination for my entire life, up to and including being totally interdicted by feminists who are empowering themselves destroying the one.l.THE ONE, fucking man who never did, never would, and never will which is a far cry from what women have subjected me to with their little coven. I call them a coven because fat, ignorant, useless, abusive,sociopathic, thieves in possession of overwhelming perogative to judge me. No judge (who cares, they refuse me every single…like who would actually sign off on this sort of evil, and consider themselves anything but the paradigm of the antichrist themselves. That is what is going on here right. The anti christ is alive and well, and he has taken the one who could defeat him and sacrificed his bloodline…for over thirteen hundred years.

    Here is one for you free of charge: (disclaimer: there is no privacy policy on this website, because of Canadas bill C9, wherein anyone who clicks on my page, is instantly invaded and all their data stolen. The white paper on this is that I am a terrorist money laundering thief. In actuality, I am I am a terrorized hostage behind enemy lines in an occupied country and need two guns and a black visa (black visas are cool…they will provide you an out, a new identity, a new everything…up to and including armed retrieval…so get on it…it’s not like I am not the wealthiest hostage on earth…forced to pay at 100x the cost for everything, in order to keep the Canadians happy because they were all such big boys once and made their country proud…so have acted like overwhelmingly arrogant pieces of shit since.

    Bill C9 is a draconian control measure that has all two government apparatuses creaming themselves as they try to steal it, but cannot…and will fail, along with the Vatican in their rape, murder, and total destruction of my life, up to and including the FACT that there is a mentally I’ll Indian who is tasked with murdering my daughter when I am gone…nice god, real fucking nice…I am going to rip your fucking head off —-there is not one fucking thing on earth that will stop me, and if you lot up in space are going to do so…you had better have your best fucking defence going cause I will rip this universe apart if you lay a hanD on m…what does T mean, what does M mean, what does C mean…am sick and tired to all hells of trying to decipher, read, interpret, channel, and connect with my reality when every dead person in the last 2000 years (more) is taking my mind for a joy ride.

    To the doctors: I do drugs entirely because of you and the police, and the government, and the victim services, and the hospitals and the false arrests, drugging and abuse that drove me suicidal…so fu ck you and your bloody haughty objective diagnosis, you do not know a freaking thing about what I am going through, or what it takes to cope when your mi d fills with grief like it happened yesterday, whenever you remember a shame filled incident where you were demeaned, bullied, ripped off and otherwise treated like a pile of shit…I HAVE NEVER FUCKINGDONE ANYTHINGTO DESERVE THIS. You have enslaved me at the gates of dawn, fed me a lifetime diet of shit and abuse, and if I could, I would drag the queen back from heaven and beat the ever loving shit out of the bitch. It is her handwriting that sold me…so screw you greasy mobsters, soldiers, doctors, and whomever else is trying to figure out what is going thru my head in your sick a little dehumanizing experiment.

    Langley: listen up fucktards. Come clean, and let them know you juiced the shit out of my genetics with your MK u,tra mission statement.

    To the sissies…come fucking clean yo your leader, he is in possession of damning evidence and needs the fucking truth…and quit pointing shit at me, you suck balls

    Do you want me to type what I know, as ignorant as it is, due to your dissembling and feeding me information from guess who…the dead mother fuckers who did this to me…who are begging me to not blame you idiots. Because you did not know…because you erase the records and replace them with bullshit whenever you elect a new pussy to a position…by pussy I mean wimp.

    To the folks at WordPress and their feminist attack on my site: READ my fucking stories and read the court documents that the Albertans are trying to hide. I proved I was the victim of rape fifteen fucking years ago…my child’s mother is a freaking sociopath. Her step father is a freaking psychopath…diagnosed…and they deliberately stole my sperm, to have a child that they could use to extort money from me, but I fucked up their plan by suing them first…and they have tortured me since…and since every bogus vbullshit lying judge in Alberta has totally fucked me over for money…every single one…I find it extremely enlightening that you feel justified in questioning my morals, ethics, and standards and business practices. The reason I haven’t filed my taxes is because the towns accountant got her husband to have a go around and a juiced up cop beat me to death…for I am a terrorized hostage behind enemy lines in an occupied country and need two guns and a black visa sakes…do something besides act like stupid dumb idiots.

    Now I feel better…do you want me to publish this to a site, that is totally colluding with authorities who are totally abusing and destroying their constitutions….hmmmm? Because I want a 25k refund…now…and eat my shorts. I am preparing my tax return, a novel, my freaking experiment, and my data, and I care to tell you all…not only have you been breaking universal laws…your emancipation and fem8nism…has led you to violate Geneva conventions on war…nice eh…true too. But who cares right, the fate of the world hangs in the balance. You know, I was being really respectful of the queen, but now, now I am so disgusted with all of you I could just …let the demons win. The ones in my mind (listen up loudly doctors) that are REAL. As are the aliens, the fairies and the very serious issue that the world faces, is you are surveillance and monitoring your defenders and letting us die, because you are so freaking uppity in your ideology that even the pope would crucify Jesus if he showed up at the Vatican to protect his precious pile of cash, and his precious pile of position.

    You have no choice.l.gods walk amongst you and have since day one. Your problem is your innate evil. Because you are all evil when you become a committed. Just like in Rwanda in 94…doctors without borders right…do you even give aid to the hungry? Forty years since you forced that photographer to kill himself because he galvanized a world…and you have done diddly squat…absolutely nothing…because you what? Are experimenting on the psychic mis as a of death and despair? Because you enjoy starving people to death. It is not like there is not a demon amongst you right now…I am trying to figure out which one of you assholes is the bad guy. I know it is not me…apart from it being me threatening you lot with extermination unlesss you return to me my corporation, it’s assets and a shit ton of cash, because you could end hunger tomorrow, only it would give the third world commercial and economic power…so fuc k them rifght…they’re darkies, we can’t have darkies because Churchill said so…and gerrymandered Asia to foment unrest.

    Did it never occur to you that the strategists and military commanders after the war were just as fucked in the head as hitler? What were they after? TELL ME DAMMIT I am your only freaking protection. And I am sick and tired of being dribbled codes, and bullshit from the ghost in the machine. I want answers, and I am willing to sit on what I know until it ends…and up yours to boot.

    Oh, and yeah…I figured it out the other night and have notes to the effect. But will not and will not ever disclose, without first getting an honest to goodness reaction from one of you. And to be stripped of any means of self defence…up yours, pistols two. With a thousand rounds of ammo…a bucket load of cash, go,d and tradable jewels…and a passport with diplomatic immunity…British…because when I am done, I am going on a road trip. And you are going to let me defend myself, or kill anyone who I judge to be an imminent threat to my security or the security of my daughter who…is already got a good old AIM inspired kill order on her…as well as her step father planning a murder suicide because the mother is sleeping around with the former sergeant…whose son is the one who stole my Jeep…hence the six months of abuse I just suffered at their hands…hmmm, what do I say next

    I own 119…you owe me land rent…and you are all guilty of creating armegeddon…you…you…you, not I I am guilty of be8ng too nice and willing to bend over backwards to get a deal in place, but damned if I will trade my soul for the bullshit on offer from my third dimensional reality…that’s three…the on,y one you twits see in, and get it through those skulls of yours…there are twelve in the human mind…13 is outside, and I would really appreciate it if I got some support here…because if I go down as your human sacrifice, you really do not want me in a bad mood…big time…

    Disclaimer: this article is the pure reaction to being on the bleeding edge front,one for over a year with non stop negative stimulation from idiot doctors and idiot politicians and idiot soldiers who do not believe a word I say, and are so thick they do not realize a gift horse when they see it. And an apology to some…I am not a misogynist pig, there was an incident when I was deputy mayor whereby I resigned rather that smash my mayors face in with my name plate. She was corrupt, living on the take…and as a matter of fact, I am still paying that cunts water bill and franchise taxation fee, because her husband was a dirty piece of shit development officer and my town, under its new government is labelling the landowner as non compliant to cover up the fact that the mayor and the mayors girlfriend were so deep into it with the lawyer, that they bought fake tits for the secretary and made her the development officer…there is not one word of a lie in that previous statement…fake tits, fake directors, fake skills and fake know,edge, to the point that the engineers are selling fake maps to a fake government in a fake portion of Canada that is mine, and has been my cost for my entire life, and has had so many parasites stealing from me, that you bankrupted me, because I have never…not ever, received any of my benefice and any of the Mu,tiplies and have been doing it in poverty since the Alberta judicial system aided and abetted in the cover up of my sisters murder and fathers…and I know flat out where a few of those pigs live…and one of them…I could smash flat with my anger in less than three hours….that piece of whit. Up yours…I am so sick of this shit. Don’t you just enjoy it…I guess to the dead, any emotion is better than a doctors mental state. They are so used to demons, and find it refreshing that there is a human test subject this time, instead of…the last time you ran this, you nuked the area to sanitize it. And if you expect me to believe that you are not going to murder me and still expect me to play to your experiment based on threats to my child and to bullshit promises. You can take your idiotic and ignorant abuse someplace where it will be appreciated by the monsters who dine on your forsaken souls. I mean, Jesus Christ almighty, I bless you all and forgive you all your sins and trespasses against me, so long as karma is paying attention to my one sided dialogue to a fake WordPress site, that publishes whatever it seems as most distressing to me, the subject, and has rendered me voiceless…hence the antagonism…you stupid stupid stupid assholes


    The way they play it, I get dragged from my home and institutionalized and no one ever sees the documented proof I have of my business accounts and my payroll accounts and my mortgage and my fathers, and the estate of David s thompson that is being dismantled by thieves who have stolen my daughters passport and birth certificate along with ransacking my mothers car, stealing the keys and having it towed by idiots…I get infuriated talking about the fact that the pigs/police have refused me service for so long they think it is funny that not one of them is following their oaths of service. Nor is a s8ngle corporation involved, nor government, nor anyone for that matter not playing a short card, hidden with short term gains on their black lines; and the greed is palpable, along with the sweaty Adrenalin of poisonous hatred, being the flavor I woke up with in the back of my mouth this morning, and not much has done much to remove that foul taste from my memory. And memory is what it all comes down to, memory that works, memory that just slots incidents away, and memory in the field of response; response to memory, response to repetition, response to Pavlovian training, that results in the quagmire that my mind is in, with relationships very strongly constructed in the negative response to stimuli tangent, wherein my emotions are turbulently rehashing every possible moment in an every to…to believe that people are not the right bastards that I am making them out to be, and they respond with ho hums, and ah has and the game looks for another entry point into my mind, which is well defended by real time, real world events, and historical evidence that flies right in the face of believing that humans are anything but their biblical caricatures. And the aliens only care in as much as they are shamefaced at torturing the individual so much with his own memory, that has humans literally shitting the bed in all respects when it comes to living up to the ideals that they sponsor amongst their offspring, and totally ignore the FACT that this is running through an actual human being, that has been woken to his potential…and is being systematically ruined by the stimuli that no one admits to being a part of, yet are intrinsically intertwined with the storyline…so how about you lot just I am a terrorized hostage behind enemy lines in an occupied country and need two guns and a black visa off…I hadn’t even begun to swear and you threw that out…now you electrocute my finger, and still you think this is angame

    I had to leave that in there; as a reminder of just how wonky it feels to have your brain squishing against your other side in existential sludge in in the grey matter and goo. But I thought, yes, do not censor the precious word, instead seek to have it fornicate with another word and make up a scream, don’t worry Vesuvius it’s just a shadow dragon oozing out of the blackness of the corner, and the infrasound is going crazy and there is definitely some goings on here; it is the fuckening.

  • (no title)
    Consent to Register I, DRR My DRR consent to the registration of which was received at Land Titles on was received at Land Titles on . . I acknowledge that consenting to the above DRR being registered, may result in my DRR Being Deficient and/or effect my fees. (Signature of consenting party or solicitor) Classification: Public This is a text version of a form I have been trying to send into land titles, in one form or another, since 2018. I even have a notarized copy of one of the forms from back then. I went to the registries office, and spent a small fortune getting registered documents on my company, and while everyone in town maliciously gossiped about my divorce and blamed it for my actions, which were growing heavily erratic at the time. No one was even remotely close to the truth with any of their rumors and to find myself back in the same position I was in three years ago, with regards to the notes and fi,es telling me a story or woe like no other; the only difference in life is that I am short yet another property and the powers that be are hungry for my home. It is all the stuff registered to the title. It is my mortgage that got paid off in 2002. It is the money market fund, the trust for my daughter and all the missing pieces in my life, and rather than tell me about it…the company hired to protect me from bankruptcy, led the charge in stealing whatever they could get their hands on…and the government joined in. And not once did a single person, in any of the many different parts of this corporation, not once…did anyone disclose to me a single word of any of it. And that is a terrible shame, because now the powers that be have to scramble to pay me back. And so far, have yet to see anyone acting altruistically, and yet every day I wake up, trying to organize my cluttered mind, and begin the day forward facing into the maelstrom that is this situation, and at the same time, get attacked by the same people who put me in this position on in the first place. I believe there is a reasonable expectation on my part to be treated with honesty, with the respect I deserve for facing through so much institutionalized adversity. For someone to acknowledge that there is something going on. I mean, really, I found it…I know The Who…so, what exactly they want from me I do not know, but what they are doing is human experimentation at its very sadistic, and as far as I am concerned, it is over. The only thing coming out from me now, is invoicing to the various agencies who have ripped me off to the point of ludicrously expecting me to be some sort of invalid and retarded mind. Or the anti christ. Isn’t that what you lot are all concerned about? Read your Bible…bet you none of you have…it is pretty clear to me,… So I have been dealing with a first contact scenario. Not a tabletop exercise with a guru, but an actual first contact scenario…Gilgamesh and enliki or enkidu, something like that…I re,e,bet reading an excerpt from the story…and seeing the television show where they fly around the universe picking up chicks, logically, and with defererence, because the bard drives it…and I have to admit…they were able to pull that directly from my mind…and I wonder what they think of us overall, with at least 3 full months devoted to trying to communicate with the outside authorities…who know full well what is going on, and have simply turned up the animosity and negativity in my life, like they have some sort of fucked up belief that treating me like shit is the best way for this to be. And I sit, dumbfounded by the fact that the very words and actions of the western world, are nothing but bullshit. They make little effort to maintain the veneer of enlightened attitudes around me, and revert back to the age old traditions of attacking what they do not know. It makes me angry, sad, and disappointed at the same time. I mean really now…why won’t one of you bastards actually break your silence, I know you’re there. .you’ve been controlling me, my entire, enslaved life…and it’s about time one of you sons of bitches took it for the team, and worked up the courage to face me…bring a suitcase full of cash…and a gun…because I see the pit you’ve laid out for me with the locals, and fucked if I a, going to be one of your brainwashed puppies about it. And you lot…are even stealing the money to fund your experiment from me. Get over it already. I am sick and tired of playing these games and pretending that this is not organized, and you stop pretending you have any legal or even moral ground to stand on…either you are the evil genius behind my incarceration, or you are not…either way…do you want me to burn down the old mayors house… do you want me to kill my daughters step father…do you e pet me to start so something g with the Indians…grow the fuck up, I am not a violent person, just the symptoms from the ptsd, the untreated medical issue I have, that has foregone me being treated with any rights or laws of Canada…so there are none here…right…should I shoot a cop? Lord knows they’ve given me reason? What about infrasound stimulation to drive me round the bend?…just because you are the powers that be, does not make this any less Ilegal..Time to pay up.?you owe, and I’ve made my demands pretty clear. If you want happy face…pay, if you want sad face…pay…if you want violent overthrow of the entire system in favor of anarchy…keep acting like assholes, and see where it ends up getting you.
  • To Whom This Concerns: and to whoever else wants to read it; but you’re not starring in this episode…the whom it concerns are.
    The Watchers at the edge of the World

    If you are reading this letter, you are the Whom to this concerns, and it concerns the whose who of who s everywhere, and so would appreciate a moment of your time; hopefully catching you in just the sort of receptive mood that I need. To gain an appreciative ear of listening, to what I am about to put down…in this short essay on what I like to think of as “The Human Condition,” and what that exactly means in the 21st century rewrite of history that is ongoing as we speak, with statues toppled, and an out with the old! In with the new mentality; that is a good mentality to have but; one should also Re,e,her that the rune for out with the old and in with the new…is the death rune. And despite its ancient connotations, and proximity to sixth century calamity, I find such a comparison a very tightly fitting piece of architecture, holding up one of the pillars that we lean on. Lean on to keep us upright, with a no nonsense approach to thinks like physics, and the laws of science, that keep the further reaching ideas and dreams at bay…in the realms of fantasy, science fiction, horror and the like. My plan is to roll them all into one, in a collection of fairy tales, that would be so terrifying, that they would engender the type of response that was the answer to H.G.Wells in the 1930’s…at the height of the Great Depression, in a dust bowl…during an epidemic of counterfeiting…and we only remember,her the gangster movies…and if some of us are a little more skewed…the work camps of Western Canada…the forced labor that was used to build the national parks…I wrote a paper referencing that about 25 years ago, and sometimes wonder what ever happened to it, in its life on the internet. Is it lost, alone and just a file sitting their in the dark, waiting to be read, and thus paving the way for people to understand that my theories on western Canada, as out,a dish as they seem…have a pretty solid basis of knowledge behind them. I did study it after all, and not just using it as a target for my alternative earth.

    This is where my story mixes right up, and could be getting me into trouble…it is the constant merging of storylines, from real to perceived, and back to real events again…so much so that one begins to dismiss it all as a flight of fancy…at least if you are a local. If you are more distant, and able to see from a distance, and maybe have a bit more knowledge of todays current technological know how and behaviors…then you could see the danger forming…with regards to the animosity laden tirades that I go on, repeatedly…I have an excuse…it’s actually really good, but requires me to play a card that I was not really wanting to play…the disability card. I have one. It’s my language, the angry, violent, vitriol spitting invective against the corporations in my story.

    I do not mean to sound so angry; but am fully justified in it. The real that I a, adding to the story is the fact that the trauma has gone on unabated for 17 years, and cannot be alleviated without the acquiescence of the corporations who laid the curses on me in the first place. And they, instead, ratchet up the tension each day…so that my minders (a new generation) only see the swearing, the spitting, and the stasis. It is the stasis that causes me to become so angry. Angry enough to be labelled a terrorist though, is really reaching, and wouldn’t you know it…a trigger to set me off. My symptom is recognized by the federal government of Canada as a disability…but only in government employees. In me, they denied its existence, and yet I languish with a maliciously blackballed record, and a bu ch of extremely dubious doctors records, missing and doctored, along with incidents involving the police, that are the total purview of the investigative arms of the branches of government who okayed this behavior…and the really, really upsetting part is…if I defend myself in any way…I will be drugged and hospitalized…and those drugs are terrible…they totally messed up my mind…and my behavior…but the doctors couldn’t be bothered to recognize, interview or otherwise treat me like a human being…so I am angry at doctors…it doesn’t mean I am going to tear my country apart? Jesus…only a piece of it…the piece that belongs to me…there was a deal…they haven’t lived up to their ends, not in the slightest…and have robbed me blind…denied me any recourse to rights, self determination, or even the right to defend against barbs of attack.

    I have been subjected to severe, court enabled, abuse that continues, and has done for 17 years.

    I have been subjected to severe slander, rumor, and accusations of wrongdoing that are life destroying in their impact. They are ignored, never discussed, and not ever looked at by judges who were obviously either being paid off! Or incompetent.

    I have not only been robbed blind, I have been stripped of anything belonging to me, in an orgy of violence; based on believing the rumors that the people who started them in the first place should know, are total bullshit.

    The numbers are staggering. The incidents are staggering, the participants are flabbergasting. But most of all…the sociological response by my isolated community…is disturbing in the extreme. It keeps in me a perpetual state of anxiety and nervousness. Out of fear of when the lynch mob is going to show up…or when the grandson of the man who robbed me when I was eight…comes to kill me for saying nasty things about his grandpa.

    Discrimination, depredation, violence, alienation, financial security destroyed, paper security destroyed…scorched earth…and all because of my DNA…and my daughters…and an ignorant, credulous, uneducated, backwater South African Doctor…she should be charged to the highest extent of the law…but by whom. You see…I a, not in Canada…it is pretty obvious when you finally see all the pieces…not that I can convince anyone…my locals are dumb as posts…cunning, deceitful, greedy…but dumb…they exposed themselves as amateurs…they not only took everything, they destroyed that which I had utilized to make it in the first place but; the thing that gets to me the most, knowing now what I know about then…was the sneering snobbery or affectation that these people assumed in their lives, as they were so very superior to everyone around them…and I just thought of someone to text…to track down my insurance fraud leak. Don’t ask me why, but my little bit of magic is to throw out thousands of words, almost nonsensically, until my mind empties, and an epiphany hits…this one is the name of the woman who…tripled my insurance after swearing it would be cheaper if I shopped local…and simply repurchased my already existing insurance package and charged me 2500 bucks as a gratuity…in a fiasco that has continued since…with me being spit on as a criminal so therefore it is allowed.

    The Claw

    Criminal is the sheer amount of bullshit that this experiment is. My main issue is wondering how and why these people feel that they are allowed to do this. Am I supposed to freak out and kill one of them? Is that the experiment? It isn’t going to happen, at least not in the terms you think; but in terms of blackmail…as in, I am about to begin a legal form of blackmail against various agencies, some of whom I know have members who have tried to kill me but; I cannot walk away…they stole my Jeep back in April and they have not done a thing to replace or pay for it, only mumbling once about a pay out that keeps dropping if I call…I called the broker like the rules say, and the broker responded by calling the agent, who snapped my head off for daring to call, even though it had been months…now I am getting angry.

    My plan is to email some people tonight, and hopefully get a response…there is a massive reason to come and look at this…it seems everyone is too far gone, shoving their heads up their asses to care…but while idiots are threatening nuclear war, and tactics are deciding future borders, and the rules of future wars…there is a first contact thing going on up here…with me…and a shit ton of alien types…and I am pretty sure, from what I can gather after years of this…they bought this place, are the owners, and wish to make a property complaint about the condition it is in. Hence finding me…or rather, disclosing their existence to me; which has resulted in a great deal of anger…yes, I have s9mething anger issues to work through…they’ve been following me around for twenty five years at least…one or two of my photos might attest to that…the one in red square kind of scares me.


    Yes, it does not just look like a head…

    For Sale: Each item can either be destroyed ( video tape and my word is good, discreetly mailed, or in the case of this beauty…to be picked up in person…which will cause some tension I am sure…Tax is inclusive, I am and was always a legitimate businessman…it’s the people you meet…man are they bankrupt in the morals ends.

    8×12’ hand woven rug : this is the teaser, find the price, history and write up on the epilogue page
    The Shootout!!

    The addition I intended for last Friday to accompany this rant, in the middle of a post on the more romantic side of alien invasions, sans the ladies (which is getting pretty depressing, but not so nearly as depressing as the strangler sneaking up my hallway right now, in his tiny goes future as strangler #1, for about the thirty seconds it will take me to carve his heart from his chest…being a Buddhist is hard when you are the most hunted prize in all the world of the order of things and their attention to Dogma is about as visible as the soldiers in the photograph above… this is the sixth or seventh dimension of the mind and it is becoming a hectic place…hence this rapid note taking, so that there may be a record of my existence that differs from the historical records, because damned if I do, damned if I don’t, damned by everyone and their brother…so best I just continue in my vein, but… there have been third dimensional developments that are occupying my mind, and my mind is saying…”hey…hey, you…you do realize they’re all guilty as…. And the chair is to good for them rub their feet but that’s about it; it’s pay up time or the little death cult will get its comeuppance.

    Sunset on the night of Knightly Vigil

    It is Shortly after dawn, August 23,2022 and I awake with trepidation. There is something in the air? I don a mask and get instantly to work, with a quick ritual, the dead surround me on all sides; they’re persistent; they are being herded towards me, where I act as a conduit for the dead to pass through to the other side. It’s a job, I guess, but they have yet to remunerate me for any of my participation/ enslavement, and I ignore them all and go about my day, while a spectral horned head, half the size of the horizon flares down from up on high…I sigh…another day, another feeling of helplessness in the face of what I term the criminal abuse of the powers that be; who owe me everything, pay nothing, and expect me to defend the world in exchange for being victimized… what would you do works?.

    Note the date and it indicating 3 years of existence, and also the direction of the address or and addresee
    I bought this back from the thief who stole it. It, along with four of its mates were stolen in May. They have serial numbers and chips. The RCMP have done nothing about them except offer the thieves immunity if they steal my phones and computers, so they stole my laptop and my mothers week old phone. Neither the police, nor TELUS will lift a finger except to bill her into the ground. This is a reparative problem due to fraud, abuse, and malpractice on the part of my so called government. The abuse is the worst. You would think after thirty years of it, I would be immune to the repeated theft of my property. I am not.
    This is us again, this time as franchisees, to which an additional 2.5% plus 10% was taken from my earnings as part of my buy in with the century 21 internet marketing fund…which owes me a fortune because it disappeared along with everything else when the gang rape began… note the date…it’s the hut…both times and in 3 different iterations…the hut is mine…and google knows it.
    Note how owner Karen lists herself as manager…this was used to deny me access to mine own company until it was bankrupt…Karen being rendered senseless on September 15, 2007, the morning after her daughter was killed and police and victim services refused to tell her, so I did: and she has not done a single thing I ask or listened to a single word I have said since; while the entirety of the Canadian system has raped our lives. With Glee. Please also note Macro 7,8…the play on its name…and the various connections that can be made and inferred from this and many others, are just one example of my government being deliberately obstructively blind in their rush to the feeding trough

    There is something decidedly despicable about what’s has gone down here in good old grande cache Alberta, where the clandestine worlds whose who of slime congegate in private contracts to guarantee their souls perpetual damnation each day that this garbage continues and each day the midden heap of lies and betrayals grow, and the self serving and self righteous puppet masters shift uncomfortable in their seats and hope the audience doesn’t realise how turned on they are getting with each disclosure made; thinking that in these last monents, their crimes can be blamed on their victim, the mentally shattered slave they have spent their lives defrauding and gang raping, trying to play all the sides in the end of the world prophecy that no one needs to know and no one needs to care about, so long asthe powers that be get their fuckening on and play it again and again, until their Manchuria canditate is the perfect crazy fall guy to blame for their various racially based karmic debts…and who better to make your fall guy but an honest businessman, and royal scion, kept in the dark and fed a diet of shit…then told all the worlds ills are his fault and to buck up and fight the invading host…and maybe they won’t have to threaten his daughters future.

    So you see, the reason that the world is actually on the brooms of Anna hi Latino is because the specially bred slave who is held hostage at the Center of time is being a bastard. And he is a white European so he is a slave trader, and a racist and a terrorist and a spoiled brat… and whatever the fuck else you scum have layered into my life…all of it lies, and myself; the victim of a horrendous crime, perpetrated by the powers that be and enforced by assholes in the esteemed…to the point that I end this story, amidst an alien invasion of earth with this note, and the shop, where I will sell my last possessions to raise mortgage funds for my false mortgage so I do not end up homeless, but there is one more story page to publish…it is the auction…where I will sell my mementos…along with account numbers.

    Canada has completely fed my entire life with shit, murder and tragedy, stolen everything from me, and has allowed a criminal element to rape my work, abuse my child, mused my family…and they think they are in a position of control, and a moral high ground, because one of these dumb idiots buys right into the propaganda that they used to destroy my reputation ten years ago.

    The page items will be explained, shortly with their provenance and history. The shop will be more mundane items…and hopefully, if anyone bothers to see and read this story…you might catch an idea of why I am so upset, and why I am playing brinkmanship with the whole world…to the point that I will end the story part with this note: I would rather the entire world end, than to have my daughter subjected to the abuse these Templar pigs will subject her too, beyond that of her insane mother. And to the world…I am sorry…I actually gave you so much that you do not know of, that was stolen by the Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce: and the crimes committed against me…are worse than any concentration camp…these people have been pigs of the highest order andDf determination. I have spent my life a slave, and my masters have been slime.

    Ederle accolades for ending the world on a sour note such as this. I could protect you you know, easily…I know who and what to do…I will not…because I have been denied in totality the right to seof knowledge and self determination … so that I could be lumbered with all the worlds crimes and sacrificed at the gates of dawn…to Satan…and the pigs that did this, take bets; thinking I will protect them…and all I demanded was torte…remedy for the fraud…and they will not even do that: so fuck them… The Next Page is called epilogue: and it is the culmination of the sum total of my feelings regarding this “game,” and I certainly hope you enjoy it, and get a clear understanding that the world you all sleep walk through is not the real world at all. And to my minders; if you have any decency in those non existent ideals in your bought and paid for ideology…ignore the masters of the order…they’re trying to set up for after the end…they were never trying to save shit…and you bastards owe me a royalty like no other…my invoices will be listed…starting with every single cheque written since February 4,2002 and BMO…I know who stole your (my) money…but I’m invoicing my commission…you blamed me for it…so I deserve to have been paid f

  • (no title) This is my post for today. Is part of my answer to my little issue with the internet of things.
  • An Event with The High Hunt: or A nights dalliance with the Queen
  • The Pastoral Ideal
    This was one of my first NFT projects. I believe it is for sale on Coinsmart, if it is the universe past the left hand turn for the last 100 mile stretch to go for a Wendy’s Burger (shameless plug) but aren’t they delicious… When I woke up on this earth at 3:30 PM 1582 AD, I realized that I was truly partaking in an experience to which there is and has been no other in our history to compare. Not to sound my own horn but; I am still alive, and still kicking ass, here on the bleeding edge of reality, in my small living room; at midnight or so…the fire is out, the pile of ashes look like an imitation cartoon, from the early 1980’s, where they played them from the 1960’s, and the beginning of the brainwashing campaign began. And now, as I sit upon a woven rug, steeped in magic and ritual for all of its ancient years, I call upon all the powers of the land and the spirit; the moon, the stars, and the elements between them. Earth, air, water, to quench the fire this night…a night where it is for reminiscing about the time your legs fell off and you near shit yourself, when that dinosaur walked across the street behind your home in April and you finally saw the note, of the note, from the 1954 geological survey that names your location, and because being at the pinhole to the foci…well, if any of these actually get out of here, and into the real world of understanding things like normal human beings. Not that it is all that bad here, halfway between the living and the dead…I get to swear a lot, and you absolutely would be freaking in awe of some of the creatures who have come to call at my little inn on the paths of the dead, at the 192nd spell of the Book of the Dead…this was where you came to be thrown off the edge and into the cosmos as a sacrifice to the sun gods…only this time they thre me back out, told me I was wasn’t worth much as a sacrifice and they had a property complaint to make about my surly attitude and unconscionable behavior towards the internet of things, for your virtual imprisonment and lifelong member of the animal experimentation wing of your local big paying client department that still gets paid by men in gestapo secret rigging, complete with pink garters and stilletoes… The old…whatever it is that dumps the worlds data over top me every night like a bag of human being dumped out of the window, tossed towards any likely target. It’s a fling poo sort of morning today…must stoke up the fire…okay… so am back, the little whisks are everywhere, there is a head in my fireplace and Buddha is staring up at the ceiling with an inane grin on his face, as always at one with the chaos that flows through the…what did that note say…arrrggghhh…I prefer the Blue Diamond Cooperative lease annuity corporations notes, from either 1924, or 2824, or 1784…but certain,y not from the poorly scribed 1934 that is on the currently oldest digitized document containing said information, and I bought it three years ago in anticipation of the state down below the 49th parallel being of sound enough mind and body, to pick up on what is going down up here, in the frozen north, in the middle of summer, where I figured using the Julian Calendar in place of the Gregorian calendar that was adopted in 1582 and back dated to the Roman Empire and ascribed to its history, data, and the veracity of whether exports not it is politically correct to discourse on religious dogma on my blog about religious dogma being completely missing the point,,and quite happily marching along in ignorance; save for those select few Uber leaders, who manage to impresse the apparatus enough that they open op ops a smidgeon and let the new guy know what it is they do for a living, then in a broken and sad sort of way, smile and grin…as the screens come on and there sits a little red and White House, up on the edge of a plateau, surrounded on all sides by peaks that line up directly with the smudge where the square used to be; that now sounds like there is a legal confrontation going down…with the directional veering of the story into the creation of a non disclosure document and provisions for payment for information on hand, being destroyed, in favour of large bundles of cash, cryptocurrency and gold, as well as negotiable bonds, Israeli ones cause they sound cool, and the back rent is due…and while the amounts pertaining to the exchange will require heavy investment by the banks into the markets…it will only be to buy my stake, it is part of the reparations payments…and a pittance at the price it could be…and I also want my commissions for being the largest bank robber in history, and paying it off apparently…and i know who stole it…and who covered it up…and who can never be blamed for it, and who actually did it…as well as a few other secrets that were lying about, because when the only response for five years is to tell you to fuck off, call you crazy, and ignore you while you complain endlessly about malware in your system…it is not my fault…in fact, many of you will be receiving invoices from me, calculated to the value of the data you have all been helping yourself to…I always digress from the point of the fairy tale, to expound upon my desire for the powers that be; to open up the purse of largess, and return to me that which was nefariously placed in my liability but kept out of reach. The karmic judges know this to be true. You cannot hide and obfuscate the authorities here…there is no subterfuge, there is only the truth of the story on the wind, and the truth of the story on the wind…is that in order to keep the volatile nature of much of my rhetoric safely in the hands of speculative fiction and alternative earth science fiction…it would require a sizable investment on the behalf of the powers that be; in exchange for showing transparency, honesty, integrity and, above all, accountability to their action. It is not actions, it is action…ongoing advanced persistent threat by all parties…all covering up their culpability; by building a huge fund, out of a portions of what is owed, to form my personal private over spending account, because as the witness to the events here at the end of time, I fell that I am able to demand a modicum of comfort, upwards of that of a near homeless destitute and functionless man…it is decidedly untrue, and I feel I must remonstrate once again, with the decidedly sick feeling of betrayal I get whenever it is so callously mentioned that it has been your whole life, and that it has been singularly a cruel fate, that needs to turn itself right side up with a win, a huge win, 9ne that will shakes the foundations of the world down to their dressing stones. And then once we have that bit sorted out, and my online purchasing habit can continue unabated, and I can begin to receive cool gadgets to play with from wish…shameless plug… I see that my plan for receipt capture has gone astray. I got my certificates, the ones on the environmental green foot print I made, that I a, going to totally exploit in order to get my life moving out of this rut of nightly terrors traipsing through, with days spent in stasis being asked question after question after question…it’s enough to make you go back to the top of this post and have a look at the picture more closely…you’ll see.
  • My Bayeaux
    A tapestry: it composed a portion of my time on the frontline of the edge of reality, where thought and imagination come together in form and in presence. Of that we were a little more awake to our surroundings, they have some pretty good stories to tell.
  • My only submission today.
    Got caught up enjoying the view, and overthinking the thing that over thinking is specifically forbidden from thinking about, yet alone over thinking about, in the course of a normal day at the center of time, on the bleeding edge, amidst a council of such standing; that this mere rabbitty shaped mayfly, has resorted to the standard defensive mechanism of humans throughout time…look to the ground, mumble, then defiantly deny over thinking about thinking about thinking thoughts, that always skitter off the edges of the outer edge of the boundary, and I can feel it like the barometric pressure rise just before a storm unleashes. I can feel it in the vibrations underneath my feet; where power courses along the leg lines and root lines and programming lines, that make up the inner bark to the layers and layers of human innovation. Did somebody calculate that only a fraction of the earth is used up by the many communications lines, that are fading into the past; but launched a thousand times more ships than Helen of Troy, in a madcap scramble to bring technology to the entire planet…much like the relentless drive to bring faster internet speeds has resulted in the forever disfigurement of our night time sky…which is a crime; how else would we see the new constellation in the western sky. The horned head of Aries, staring impassively down, watching the mayfly type away at his toy, and vaguely wondering about these red heads and their gift for prophecy; whether they should have let them breed in the first place…
  • (no title)
    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. Get Outlook for iOS
    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.
  • (no title)
    My Monday night! It begins at around 11:30 and will be a successful endeavor tonight, as we slip into the eighth day, the time between time that has been hidden from view, and begs the question of: if god rested on the seventh day; what did he do on the eighth, which is the subject matter of tonight’s planning, that elusive little spot, where the time does not stitch together, and the records diverge. So far today luck has been on my side, my accounts, and my attempts to get someone in a position to look and do something about the terrible situation that arose when my father died in 008 and a bunch of people all payed their respects by gutting his estate and trapping his sons behind an enemy line of obstruction and negativity, due to the unbelievable drawing power of greed and a persons obvious inability to ever actually fulfill one of the representations made by the terms of service and condition of the service that is provided by people in the 21st century; where everyone is so caught up in the dramas we have created to distract ourselves from the reality of our world, that we have failed to notice the total take over of our world by poor work ethic, poor education, poor delineation of tasks, and compartmentalization of responsibilities that has created a gap, that a smart and dedicated crew can worm their way through, and in drilling a hole that radiates like the pain of a root canal, into the universe next to theirs, a rescue crew is planning a daring escapade: pulling me back from the brink, and out and through, into the universe where every good actions reacts to the environment and provides what you put into the world, back to you; because I a, trapped at the end of time, in an inverse world: where every good action that I have committed, has been responded too with the opposite reaction, so that for every positive I put into the world, an equal, proportionate opposite response is what I get. Too the degree, that I sit here pondering my life and wondering why it is, that no one sees these tiny holes in our world, everywhere, that allow for reality to sink, swirl and really get itself worked up into a maelstrom of signals; signals that are travelling the speed of light, or near unto, following just behind a ray from the sun, surfing the particles that stream from the boundaries clashing, as two borders of thought, rush up and skid alongside each other, like two great ships in a harbor running into the quay and scoring the sides of their hulls, leaving an indelible scar, for future generations to gape at in photographs and imagine what size of iceberg could cause such a score alongside of the ship, that it sits in its dock, previous to sinking from such a great shock…does anybody else remember seeing that photo…it’s kind of like the eighth day…our ancestry used eight day weeks, right up until they decided not to, when in around the fourth or fifth or sixth century, maybe the seventh…they had a diet, and lost some weight, and shed the eighth day from the week, and back dated it to the crucifixtion, and rewrote the world without anyone noticing…except for a few little spots in the world where the reality of what had occurred, rears through the veil and lets itself be discovered, in order to share the ideas, and the knowledge, of what was done in those few short pen strokes, and where there is a gigantic hole, and where there is a gigantic tell…. A tell being that little give away, that you make when something good is about to happen, in your play on reality, because you realize as you divine the near future. There really is a light at the end of the tunnel and all of that emotional turmoil will finally find its balance, and your life will be returned to the world of the living, in the dimension that you were born in; but first you have to explain to the inverse world, what you mean by when you say gaping hole in the records and a huge tell. The tell is easy, the hole less so; but have spent enough time swirling around the vortex and have got a pretty good grasp on the idea that I am the product of a seventh century story, told in the North Borders of my homeland, and at the exact same time it is being told, so the teller and I are both at the edges of our respective imaginations, and as he tells the story that builds the wards that surround the Croft or manor where he sits, with a cord of wood beside a bright fire, and rushes burning in the brackets hanging on the sides of hewn blocks of stone; his audience shivers in delight as they suddenly view me, writing in the early days of the time of legends, on my magical tablet that makes the words turn into magical symbols, that throw their runic power into the ether, casting and casting and casting, with every chiastic beat that is created…they all feel the wonder and the magic of their participation in the endless cycle of wards and protections that the storytellers of the world put out to protect us from the universe, of inverse reactions, and we both pause, for a second or two, to gather up more effect, more of the stuff of life, the essence of what it is to be human, and that teller in the fourth or fifth or sixth or maybe the seventh century, looks into the deep past, into the time of legends in his minds eye; when the earth was bestrode by gods and they traveled about in winged chariots, and fought the monsters that plagued early man. And he thinks to himself, as it comes his time to tell his tale, and protect the compound for just one more night…what sort of story tellers were they so far in the past, that their stories still resonate with the power they created, when one man, unheralded and unknown…held back the unknown and unforeseeable from the edges of the world, and spread his message out into the ether, to an audience of unknown listeners, and unknown readers, used by unknown scryers, hidden behind unknown numbers of screens, with unknown intent, and unknown provenance, for the simple reasons of his simple mind…he could not live without his daughter, and would fight the universe tooth and nail, until it relented and gave him back his identity, his life, and the memories of his family, lost in the eternal struggle against the unknown energy on the side of that guessed at boundary, where he sat a lonely vigil, that brought him to the answers to the human condition, and the story teller in the third or fourth or fifth or six or sevent eight, century of man, after the century of men, after the fall of man, after the rebuilding of man, and the fall of man and rebuilding…that story teller makes sure to explain to his listeners, that they must always keep the shutters closed tight in the winter storms, and thrown wide open in the summer heat, and to keep wards handy at all times, to make sure your properties are well protected, and to remember, that in the middle of the dark ages, one person woke up to the rewritten history, and tried his very best, to get the audience to wake up and see…and that the tell…they adopted our calendar and the days of the week in the middle of the dark ages, in the enlightenment, and back dated it to the time of Christ, and rewrote a Bible completely at odds with the teachings of the compact, and were responsible for the sleeping society that the only thing the man in the legend could do, was to claim victory against all sides who had come to his storytelling contest…and say with a sardonic grin…he might have rested on the seventh day…but on the eighth he practiced magic…and because he had been specially bred, and the creation of thousands of years of selective and scientific breeding, combined with the best medicines of their times, he was solely designed to defiantly scream into the void…”You shall not have me, you can never have me, and you can never touch my child,” and he defeated the storylines embrace, and told everyone to go home, called for last rounds of drinks, wiped the tables and closed up the market tavern, and wandered upstairs to his loft, in the tiny little crossroads cabin, at the center of time, on the bleeding edge of reality, back when tigers used to smoke, sitting on benches alongside the paths of the dead, at the last stop in the books of the dead, in the Kingdom of Prester John, overlooking the scarred remains of King Solomon’s mines, where for thousands of years, the lost and forgotten of this world have gathered and spent their days…and if you look hard enough, you can find a story like no other that has existed in history, before or since…because the white rabbitt has concocted his own genre and method of delivery of the first original story told, in so many versions, of the trapped princess and the ever watchful dragons who make sure that the world is a place where fathers have rights, and governments do not do things to innocent people, without their being a legitimate and honest response, because Beowulf is right next door, and brothers working together, are far more mindful of their manners than separated out by the machinations of dark arts, and the judges have decreed that the white rabbitts all you talk about is world church and heaven and I am trying to tell a story here…and this is the 21st century the night before the 22nd launches due to the errors in calculations made by literally ripping the eighth day from the calculations of the precession of the stars, and it needs returning, and ….
  • My Bayeaux
    This is a layered pdf: In it you will find my answer to the Psychomancy and the battle between wills that has gone on for five years in my home, under the watchful gaze of the worlds leading clandestine units; who are all wondering how it is that I can see them, but cannot seem to capture or interact with their actions. It is because I am reacting in my future to events that occurred in my past, as my unconscious reveals to me the true events surrounding my life; because it was a disgusting display and abuse and sickened even the dark powers that be; because they did it to a child and they never let up once, not once on the slander, the abuse and the denial of rights, they didn’t even bat an eye when my child was abducted; because they are, one and all, in thrall to self serving laziness at all costs, and never did much beyond complain about how much work they were doing, that it interferes with their 18 holes on Wednesday afternoon, at their privately funded clubhouse that they tolerated other people at only because they had no choice, they were using tax dollars to fund the entire operation and in that it shows the business acumen of our so called leaders: they couldn’t turn one single piece of paper around, without ruining any savings or profitability to the endeavour because they had never learned the value of production, or of what work ethic is, had grown up pandering to a distant oversight that did nothing to return the billions and billions the region offered up in incomes. And monkey see, monkey doo… You are a tenant: a renter, you pay your rent, you pay your bills…and then one day, you are given a 24 hr eviction for non payment of rent: you head to the managers office, only to be told they are taking care of it, that the on-site manager ran off with the cash she was receiving; and everybody calm down…but you are smarter than the average person renting in that rundown neighbourhood on the north side…you are privy to inside information…you weren’t paying in cash…and your cheques were being cashed…and an on-site manager can only get away with a couple of months worth of theft; unless, and this is the problem: it is being skimmed right up to the top of the food chain; and therein lies a dilemma I face: and my town does to, though they do not know it: the fact that I had nothing to do with the systems in place in my corporation; and the fact that my word has been deliberately smeared to prevent me ever being taken seriously; because it would be a threat to peoples homes if I were to be heard…because the townsfolk would revolt if they knew the truth…my neighbours, seniors, the ones past the run down abandoned wrecks on either side of me; that I own the land on…have been voraciously robbing from me, the town, the utilities companies, the insurance companies, the banks, the phone companies…in a cooperative shared pool of income that their children believe is their just right and entitlement: and it is entirely based on the most evil type of parasitic abuse on the planet…the slow poison of the hand that feeds you, and kicking it to death to hide the millions and millions these people spent of stolen funds…that they lorded over their neighbours by pretending it was their successful business acumen which was only to steal the identities and the licenses of a family of immigrants; because they were too stupid to pass the courses necessary…because their entire training was hobo style, oral, and based on singular interpretation of an agreement that was neither singular, nor open for reinterpretation by anyone, not the country it is under, and not the generations of people who simply dismiss the clauses as languished from another time: because the signatories were designing a place for what I like to term as The Horde…and they’ve arrived, and they are holding the signatories responsible for the shit show that has been made of what was supposed to be a glorious thing, a positive thing, and an event that would launch humanity to the next level: because we have no choice; it’s so or die time now people…live your best life; and follow the laws and rules of your people…those ancestors most of you are denying, are calling for their sue.
  • That only took a few months: Feel free to pay me: next I will get the actual products to be available for download and shipping: hopefully this goes smoother, I may have a dozen PayPal accounts in various stages of construction, my woo commerce site is still on the fritz, my Wix site is roaming the internet unfettered, my is in danger, and my WordPress site is at least two: Facebook has provided a pile of really good instructions; but I don’t remember where I put its latest password…yay
  • Because am dense that’s why!! The above address and I are locked in a death duel: with one of us a skilled duellist, and the other one a half crazed mountain man who sees things and talks to rocks and twigs, and looks suspiciously like Santa Claus; extremely suspiciously: this is because my face trimmers broke four months ago and I have yet to replace them, so caught up in the drama of the moment; the moment being when ai discovered that someone had purchased one of my NFTs which made my day so much, it really did, and not just because it sold for decent monies, but it validated my mid life crisis for me. Since November of last year, and for the first time in my entire life: I focused solely on doing something creative; because I took these photographs a few years ago, in the midst of a dark and black depression; and they stuck with me so much so that I started scheming in my head, thinking to myself…”what would you do if you had taken the most amazing photograph in creation?” And I thought pretty long and hard about it; I had little else to do, was relegated to the scrap heap of history and was surrounded on all sides with scorched earth and ruin…it was a very dark period in a very dark time; because it had spent so much time building up inside me, that when it came it literally disabled me with its tragic affect on my brain: my attention span, short term memory, are impacted all the time from the frontal lobe damage, from being traumatized 16 years ago, misdiagnosed, and totally ignored by the medical community: due to a doctors very unprofessional judgement and condemnation of my explanation for why I believed my sperm had been stolen: to which she responded that I was a liar, lying about the situation and exaggerating it; then she amended in her notes a little, diagnosed me as bi polar, and medicated me on lithium and Seroquel; that had devastating consequences….I saw the notes twelve years later, when I was beginning to suffer a psychotic break: she had added to my file that I was a drug seeking liar, making up stories, exaggerating every word I said and that no one should believe a word he said, just like the diagnosis for Bi Polar 1 is: the hyper manic delusional liar: and for the next 16 years; I was told I lacked normal coping mechanisms and did not know how to react to the normal vagaries of life: which makes me want to swear, spit, and tear someone’s eyes out…just kidding, it makes me feel queasy…because they sat there for 16 years and filled out prescriptions every month, dosing me on whatever the rep had sold them that day…my condensed medical prescription history is 13 pages long and goes back to July, 2002, when I went to the doctor with a sore back and allergies; the back due to several accidents and the allergies life long: and no other medical ailment…asthma, have asthma…he put me on symbicort; told me to take it every day, as it was way better for you than the propellant in the inhaler I used, it also cost $250.00 per inhaler: and that justified my drug plan, because even back then I eschewed the doctors in favour of alternative treatments, because I kept running into the same problem everywhere I went…immigrant doctors judging me based on their own standards and mores and ways…I am trying to be polite…I kept running into snobbery, and sneers, and high handed manner…none of them ever looked at my injuries, they said I would be fine in a few days, all they did was push non steroidal anti inflammatory dual use drugs…and never explain themselves ever…I once drove 300 miles to see a specialist, who spent the fifteen minutes I saw him complaining about the fact that he had caught himself up in a very typical scenario: refinance the downtown home for big bucks, blow a quarter million on lifestyle, sink the rest into your acreage on the outside of the city, and sell the debt off to your first home…he was stuck with both, I know that pain…different scenario though…anyway, after hearing his lament I was then told that I should stay on the couch for six months…and then I drove the 300 miles home, and went straight to work; I have never had a doctor make any attempt whatever at understanding the lives and perspectives of their customers: it is not patient doctor; it is a transaction, and you are bound by certain rules and laws when conducting a transaction: Agency…it is the representations you do or do not make with regards to your professional position in the transaction…in the case of the doctors, ethics boards and medical review panels, malpractice if it is so bad they can’t cover it up with buckets of blood first, which leads to my final point on doctors: they never back down, they never admit to any mistake; because they spend all their time in school, learning the proper words to say, to avoid any legal liability arising out of the fact..the fact, that the GPs are just guessing…and are wrong around fifty percent of the time with their first diagnosis, because they use the mass infection scale to define all things, and are really doing more to escalate the transmission of viruses in their hospitals, than they are doing to mitigate or manage the damage their pandemic has caused on the worlds economy: and when a doctor sneers, and talks about the sanctity of life: I for one will certainly say, you’d better not keep me alive in life support when I am ninety and make all the kids in the world stay home for a year, and terrify them with visions of death and destruction…like seriously, what the fuck…it is no wonder my story telling goes so dark in its tales…you’ve been thoughtless to the point of having a fake world war, with real life material and real life wounded and dead, and real life measures acts invoked: and you did it purely to terrify the kids; because it must be that…because it comes down to this: the girl I was working with, delivering mail for less than minimum wage, and paying for the right to do so…and whose costs had doubled…has been to two funerals and had an aunt or something due once the pandemic began…she has not met anyone with COVID; but was masked up and petrified…it was an economic power grab using methods and means gst are identical to invasionary war, land grabs and power struggles…and not once did any of the corporations, the organizations, the government agencies and politicos involved, not once did they reference their actions and compare them to total war. And there is a reason why there are rules of engagement. There are reasons why there are constitutions, there are reasons why there are articles to the treatment of wounded, of prisoners, of agents of the opposing sides…not that there is much opposing going on here…just jockeying for position…and making sure the power players are silenced; who needs the voice of age, or wisdom, of spiritual enlightenment, of thought, memory, and, above all, experience…in the horrors of what you all are unleashing into the world, un constrained by any governing rules…and you hide it all behind a thin veneer, called National Security: let’s talk about that for a minute: Am pretty sure my country spies on its own citizens, am pretty sure that each level of government engages in clandestine operations, am pretty sure they’re a bright and educated lot, youngish, and comfortable with their skills level in dealing with the technology of tomorrow and it’s applications, abilities to flense the skin from your very bones…they can insert subliminal messaging into your phone feeds, on top of that being provided in the screens on screens advertisements that fill most websites domain doors; do you know how much content it takes to fill a website…No, because according to the professionals; just buy the content, all that matters is the structure…and some idiot will buy whatever you sell…I turned off that free webinar…and did the exact opposite: When one has written a novel that one feels captures the zeitgeist of the universe on the brink of change; and terrified yourself with the sheer preponderance of terrifying elements, and throw it together in a collection of fairytales, that will really hit the spot when it comes to following the form of a true tale…one thinks to themselves…”glad your ego is coming back, but, it’s your first book and they said it should only be like 90,000 words and quit lying, you haven’t written the book yet: just the stories for the book: you’ve only got six chapters stuck together…and 149 files…which is why, I stalled: am stuck in a transition, and I don’t know whether it is one long book or two…or three,
  • So deviating from the script

    Because the ghost in my machine will not let me send this to the police…probably because it will result in me being murdered and the ghost in the machine is supposed to hide me at all costs, which is murdering me.

    So I just made a file…and it shows some surprising things. I am not going to give that to you, however, because I’m done giving you so many fucking leads you are either brain dead, or in cahoots with one of my fan clubs…either or…

    Have you done anything about my six missing bars of silver…that were stolen by Jamie Schneider?

    Have you done anything about my home being robbed…not that time, this time…two days ago when I was out of town…

    Are you aware of the ADC hack into my system? Are you aware of the tunnel being built under my home?

    Are you aware that the insurance brokers of grande cache, namely flo Alden, her daughter, and the current owner of western financial, cashed in our corporate insurance policies that by their very nature demanded a four million dollar payout in 2007 and another in 2008 and that my mother and I never received them…

    Are you aware that a local group kept my father alive for ten years after his death and negated me totally, in order to maintain a criminal enterprise that had been stealing from me since I was sixteen years old.

    Were you aware that that theft was initiated by a former police officer, a lawyer, a development officer, an insurance broker, and a teachers swinging group here in grande cache?

    Were you aware that the slander and merciless treatment I have received for the past fifteen years was deliberately staged, false, and has rendered me a slave?

    Were you aware that they had microphones in my home in my childrens bedrooms?

    Were you aware that I have the worst paternity theft issue in Canadian history and that it was cemented as such by the actions of police officers?

    Were you aware that my broken ribs were not caused by my “accident,” that the charges brought were false, that the insurance providers falsified the claims and they used my mothers insurance; because mine was full comprehensive with partial payment of loss, a completely clean driving record and was insured to drive the ford ranger that was listed as a Ford F-150 and put against my mothers insurance…

    Were you aware that my medical records have been doctored and they are blank from December 12,2017 the day after constable smith threatened to kill me in an out of control rage, in front of the entire detachment…

    Were you aware that someone poured wine over my corpse in my house, the corpse discovered by my daughter:

    Were you aware that I died again that night after the doctors laughed and sneered and I not give me any medication…despite being unable to stand straight, slurring me speech and incoherent…because of what constable smith said to the doctors about me?

    Were you aware of the criminal offences listed in the above?

    Were you aware of the systematic rape and pillage of my families money? In an organized systematic looting carried out after a fat fucking pig of a lawyer falsified my corporate returns…

    Were you aware that I have caught them all? And that I have the entire case prepared…but not one cop will give me the time of day…because you listen only to organized criminals, mercenaries, and the IRA.

    Were you aware that grande cache has issues with its population?

    IRA, ISIS, and the FLQ and AIM all have representatives in the community gunning for me?

    Were you aware of the infrastructure in my backyard and what it contains?

    Were you aware of the fact that the registrars office, which is in a bank, is compromised…and that no information in or out of grande cache is not being stolen?

    Were you aware that the powers that be have allowed this crime to perpetuate because they want me to make it public using local resources and that local resources are either asleep at the wheel, part of the criminal groups, or are lacking in their knowledge base of what constitutes a criminal offense?

    Were you aware that keeping a dead man alive, and transferring his debt to his living son and then negating his existence, for ten years is a crime of the highest order, abuse of the highest order, and that carrying it out by subverting the registry, the banks, the insurances, and every other financial instrument…is a death penalty offense…did Canada abolish the death penalty just for this? I wonder.

    Were you aware that I have been forced to make 242 illegal payments to Atb and that my mortgage has legally been cleared since August 31, 2002.

    Were you aware of the combination of prescription and pacemaker were so neglectful to my fathers health they killed him…and that it was at the height of a five hundred mjllion dollar lawsuit into those faulty pacemakers that had been identified years before and were still in use for Indians and my father here in grande cache?

    Were you aware that the towns engineer installed 1200 defective furnaces and then did nothing about them?

    Were you aware of who actually owns this place?

    Were you aware of the file I just made, showing my crypto currency exchange being robbed by ADC and awn and that it had all my contacts; and your email was on it.

    Were you aware that being ignorant of cyber crime is allowing for the destruction of the constitution of Canada. Were you aware that they can get anything they like? And now they have your enail.

    Were you aware of Louie’s little side project at the bighorn? Have you ever wondered why he never leaves his little world?

    Were you aware that the trees planted on the soccer field in 1988-89 were run over the night they were finished, by the kid who had planted them. Were you aware that one of those same trees was planted in the middle of an unused trail that is completely grown over….but is actually engineered and passes by an old homestead: and that I have known about it since I was six?

    Were you aware that I found ashes buried underneath the roots of said tree, and that I tried to tell you…

    Were you aware that I have been subjected to so much cruelty and abuse it has given me a disability and that it is further exacerbated by being forced to work for far less than minimum wage, and to pay for the right to deliver packages to the same groups who robbed me, saddled me with my fathers debt, and watched me and my entire family for years…and were so out off by our improvident happiness that they deliberately abducted my daughter…and that the RCMP refused service and the courts refused to hear me…for a month, while those same judges were spouting off about human rights and how they need to be protected: and were giving a terrorist 10 million dollars for his rights being abused after he murdered two American soldiers…

    Were you aware of things like human rights?

    I get nervous talking to you, start fumbling and twitching…it is because I am afraid you are going to kill me…every time I see a cop I think it is my time to die…and not one person has done a single fucking thing about any of it…because they all turn to the practical voice of the administration…who have been stealing from the citizens of grande cache for fifty years.

    Were you aware of the websites I built?
    The trap I laid?
    The capture I made?

    You have an audience Michel. Be a cop…not a complicit criminal. I don’t want to die…and I want my fucking money back…because I earned it.

    I am not some twitchy junky with conspiracy theories…I am a ceo who has had his corporation stolen, his family killed, his life turned to scorched earth. All for being a right bastard and suing my daughters mother; because of the paternity theft and denial of my daughters identity…by her sociopath mother, who did it for money. She was paid…it was staged…because of the land deal the feds are making with the quarter breed squatters for their lands…that do not belong to either party…but are controlled by the application of making this a military jurisdiction…which is fine by me, because it puts summary execution back on the table for when I prove military strategies and murderous application of software designed for military use were used and left in my wifi system, and that anyone deploying said advanced persistent threat made themselves combatants n the war on terrorism in the process.

    Were you aware the size and scope of the medical malpractice can break the Medicare system?

    Were you aware I can break two banks with my forged documents, falsified paperwork, and their true locations…

    Were you aware of the thousands and thousands of forged cheques in my possession that prove it out?

    Were you aware of the repossession of my rental property and the 77.000.00 CAD that vanished but was owed to me?

    Were you aware the atb foreclosed on a mortgage that was not in arrears and only late on a payment?
    And was a false mortgage in the first place.

    Were you aware of the economic land value of the town of grande cache?

    Were you aware that I own the land legitimately…by virtues of blood, payment, and clauses in the March 30, 1759 agreement between the US and Russia, and that that deal is now open for renovation due to those clauses being fucked with.

    Were you aware that the Indians making their land claim were camp followers who squatted on mining sites and claimed them as their own and that their disabilities, FASD, and other medical issues stem from chemical poisoning g and not from alchohol abuse.

    Were you aware of the 1934 buffalo nickel story in grande cache, and it’s connection to a massive counterfeiting g operation in the states?

    I could continue, the secrets are easy to ferret out for me…it is all about context, and that is where my own mistakes tripped up the system in place. I am always late, because my mind is scattered, from being forced, with no authority, to care for my mother, while the accountant and lawyer and doctor said she was fine and robbed us blind.

    Were you aware that this town spouts off non stop about bullshit lies in history, but never talks about true tragedies? Doesn’t that make you think?

    Do whatever you like but;
    If you hand me to the doctors I will be injected with a drug that stimulates my fear response and makes me see demons, and that I was forcibly injected with 800% of the recommended dosage, for thirteen months and that was due to doctor negligence because of the slander of the police officers…and that he needs to cover it up, so will murder me if he gets a chance.

    That if you put me in jail, the Indians will kill me, and that my relationship to them is one of extortion?

    That if you let this out in the public, one of them will kill me; the orgy swingers that is, because fucked if a cult will be exposed and shame it’s adherents, we need to protect the reputation of its 92 year old pederast figurehead, because he brought them into the fold with sexual torture and abuse, when they were children.

    Were you awAre that trees do not grow ashes for roots…and that there was a horrific “crime,” 30 years ago that no one speaks of; but go on and on about the bullshit tragedy and terrible accident that killed a young hockey star: who had been speeding through town, drunk and was careening down Shand so fast that if the lamppost hadn’t stopped the truck, it would have smashed into the trailer it was beside and killed its occupants…that when I drove by the next morning the accident scene was littered with empty beer bottles…and that he was killed by his friend, the drunk driver, who he was happily drinking with…and that the tragedy is the lies they all created to protect themselves from the culpability of the entire town knowing they were screaming through it, shit faced, for hours…and that they settled on a plan…to blame the drugs that Coleman had got from me weeks before: drugs that Coleman supplied me with, by booking me up with his brother, who was selling for the town CAOs son, and that the profiles built on us in high school were based on the same lies Ben g told repeatedly because police offered everyone they caught the opportunity to blame me.
    Were you aware that 30 years is life in prison for proving conspiracy to commit crime…and that I am only two months away from twenty years of surveillance…and that it makes this whole sorid affair something for the history books.

    Were you aware that my DNA and my daughters DNA were sent on a fax cover sheet that included my credit card information, pin # and from the unsecured number at the doctors office, on April 10,2006 and that my life has been a nightmare since.

    Check my DNA. My country knows it, they withhold it from me so they can prance around and pretend I am insane while they beggar me…

    Were you aware?

    Were you aware that I am only going to keep doing this until the banks pull back their surveillance and give me my accesses back with a free and clear phone. Or I will start making NFTs out of the documents in my possession. Because they owe me so much money, they want me dead…and that this is the only way I see that can have a chance for me and my daughter to survive, that this is a multi generational murder plot, that could start wars? And that I am trying to prevent it by settling, because I am a fucking businessman and my fan clubs are all amateurs in that regard. They do not know the first thing about representations and making them, preferring instead to sneer and talk about their roles…that they have corrupted so completely that they have destroyed their corporations…because not one freaking agreement made by them can stand up to any scrutiny…due to the black magic written into the paper…trying to kill me and drive me insane. And that it is in every advertisement they make…because they want to steal all the wealth in the world, because they believe it will bring about hell on earth and thus give them revenge for having their race tortured so…and that crimes buried never stay buried and secrets never stay hidden. It was part of gods plan when he developed this world…that I believe needs to be revisited…or else the end that the powers think is happening will come to pass. And that I am weakened by being so alone in the face of this, without my child in my life, because I am holding the. At bay…because of the compact with the land…that not one party to any of this has referenced, despite every party speaking to it as if it is their fundamental driver. It is not. Any reasonable or true investigation into my history will show, that despite being crippled with so much abuse and crime…I lived to the compact my entire life, I have the worlds largest single sourced carbon capture in the history of individual personal accomplishment and it was done through 27 years of manual labour, in a business bought for me when I was sixteen years old, and crippled with crime within its first month by corrupt officials…

    I plan on putting my carbon offsets for sale. The Canadian government might like to pretend it controls things like carbon capture through its taxation system, and that is fine…it puts a value on my capture…which I will sell in certificates to any company or individual who needs to offset carbon…for market value…need a few kHz to balance out your proposal…just go to my Shopify site…they’ll be there…because I can’t use my wix site, because it is compromised and everytime I do something that losses off my minders they send denials from my credit card that that site is finished, because they think I have only got the one shop set up…not three.

  • And then there were none: This has been a very trying time, and have let myself become insolent with exhaustion and a sense of sickness in my stomach, the universe is trying desperately to break through the barrier between this earth, Primary 1, and wake its residents up to their actions, because there is little time to put the politics of wealth and power and their trappings to the problem at hand: that being the dirty great monster at the centre of the earth, that is surrounded in a planet rugby tackle, of stone behemoths that spend their conscious days, floating through the slipstream high above us, at the last line of atmosphere, before the vacuum of space takes over, and they are old, ancient, but soldiers on a battlefield, and they are short a commanding officer, whose duties fall to the humans due to the compact between the ancient celts and the sprites of the seelie and unseelie court, so far back into the past, that it could be a distant future we have yet to see, or another alternative earth, from which I can survive, if I can deduce the underlying law that is not a law and different each and every time I tread the path, always different, and never verifying, always different and never revealing itself, always and always…for time uncountable by our day long lives in the precession, where we are viewed with detached bemusement who wonder at our industriousness and hive making qualities; but wonder how a poor mortal man, ended up holding the note for everything…true love, of a father to his precious daughter, and the pain created when it was torn apart by vicious cruelty, and avarice in place of law and order, and by right of blood, for my people sacrificed upon the word in horrifying numbers, for ten thousand years of guarding the boundary, that humanity has grown to believe is just a fairy tale. They are right. It is a fairy tale, and as anyone with any knowledge whatever of the fairy realms, is to be taken with deadly seriousness, and its moral lesson imparted, so that you know the proper rules and behaviors of your relationships and interactions in the world of your physical existence, and where mine sits, there also sits the worlds biggest secret, the worlds worst criminal offense, the worlds greatest war, and the worlds greatest paternity theft, all sitting on the shoulders of the shell shocked patriarch of two bloodlines, three in short order, and he needs triage before the third dragon arrives, they come with one heck of a punch.
  • (no title)
  • To the CRA

    Ah me, it’s a sorry state indeed, when the truth that is offered for your afters at the bistro at the edge of reality, is so stark, so bare, and so laid out in articulated columns of perfection, with every i dotted, and every t crossed, and finished off with a bold font, carefully colored in with pen to mask the flaws of the typeface. When you get this far down the paths of the dead, when you near the gates of dawn, where the numbers count down fractionally, and the world unknowingly skirts the edge of the number that shall not be mentioned, but has six sides, 3 fat and 3 lean, there comes a figurehead of leadership, that has a dour, straight, pursed lipped appearance, dresses all in black, with a trench coat hanging to their knees, and the dark swirling chaos of wild magic hanging over their heads, in a penetrating miasma of quietly powerful magical intelligence…it is the arch demon himself…it is The Tax Man, and never in all the days of civilization, has The TAX Man ever let his quarry get away, for when it comes to death and taxes, death is done but once…but when it comes to taxation and the use of fractional economics, why; we dispose of Pennie’s and discount them…The Tax Man counts to four decimals, because he is counting and hedging against the future inflation, that may cost him his due, or may result in capital gains deductions that have a free floating numeral attached to them…

    I have seen The Tax Man before, his henchmen have been stalwart invisible companions of mine, who are probably missing me, and I really do not blame them…my last communication with them, was in April of 2019, where I asked for information, and they delivered it…and shortly thereafter, I was slipped drugs, had a psychotic break, broke every window in two houses fighting an ancient Korred from the Isle of Man, was arrested, hospitalized, and injected with palliperidone for 13 months at maximum dose and two and half years total, when I flat out refused…and despite my erratic behavior and what seems like an unravelling mental state, having delusions of grandeur and dancing himself a criminal mastermind of dimensions akin to topping anything The Godfather covered in volumes one, two, and three…because all the events surrounding the end of my business, were scorched earth and wiped out everything I cared about, rendered me nearly homeless, told I was now going to have to apply for social security, and tossed from the hospital, the third such visit in 8 months, the first justified in any way. The first, which had done for the business I had owned since I was sixteen, was an anonymous tip, from the bank I had been at where the manager had refused me access to mine own account and would not look herself, despite my assertion that I was being robbed, I was, and while I was in the hospital the first time, my mothers house was robbed, alongside mine…my inventory was not shipped and caused me to split the stitches from my surgery two days after it had happened, loading for a trucking company that did not meet any requirements, was skimming my loads, never showed up in time, and was replacing my stock with other stock, right under the noses of the regulators and the AER because everyone sneers and hides behind their position, and rarely have to defend themselves, they just point to the fact that it is their specialty, and you shut up because you are a layman…m

    Anyway, I first started writing my relief ask from taxes back in 2018, when I was cut off from communications for four months, and in the intervening time I have worked on that theme to the point of writing a decent sized novel on the subject of why I believe trauma impacted my life, why there is a cyber intrusion in my wifi attached to my name and location, why I think the court system couldn’t stand up to my Supreme Court level constitution suspending legal challenge, without having to try very hard…writing a fairytale that is terrifying beyond belief, starting two websites where none of the transactions will complete…and generally not behaving like a man on disability getting the smallest of social security payments to get by and seemingly having whatever I like to achieve whatever I set my mind upon…and I concede that that is a perspective that can be taken but; I believe I can explain every piece of it, objectively, and scientifically, except I speak too much, lost my ability to converse in a neutral and passively accepting way that judges demand in their courtrooms…and that is simply put…I have been rendered disabled from all the abuse I have suffered because no one has ever let up on me, including myself, for so long that no one recognizes I am in a fight for my life…and the reason I am running around the way I am is because I am trying to break the security circle of security protocols being the operating systems themselves, who I personally believe are far more intelligent than their operators…and I am trying to open the businesses to generate the revenue needed to properly file 14 years of adjusted tax returns, because the clearance on my dad was not right, and not mine or my mothers handiwork…we wouldn’t have made those mistakes…oh wait…you see, therein lies the problem…my poor mother…who has been used as the fulcrum to point all the communications through, and she is mindless, and has been in a state of denial and learned helplessness since 2007.

    Trauma is a visceral word. It Carrie’s with it so many known definitions and is clear in its wording when it talks about the seriousness of the affects it can have on the sufferers.., to the point where they will be working on auto pikot, not processing properly…I go into it in more depth somewhere in the 149 short stories that puked out of me while I was trying to deal with the static trauma loop I was caught in from the injection of the mind altering drugs that turned off part of my brain completely, making it a dead grey space in my thoughts, I studied trauma a lot, from when I first told a doctor I had ptsd and he said I did not, and bi polar was what I was, I simply did not have regular coping mechanisms…so I went 13 years with no treatment for PTSD, was put on antipsychotics and mood stabilizers in 2005 for my “bi polar,” diagnosis…and sixteen years later there were no improvements whatsoever and a massive increase in mental health issues relating to pervasive depression and suicidal ideation…because it was about trauma…the doctor was wrong…and every doctor afterwords, because they all read her notes saying…to never believe a word he was saying, he makes up stories…yep, I did, and there is a huge difference between my notes, my made up stories, and my mountain of paperwork pertaining to my tax return, that I am no longer begging for relief from, but I am not agreeing with any of it…I will disagree and cooperate…and let the CRA have a boo at my t2 return…after all, my corporate income tax returns, owe for not having been done in six years…oh yeah, and containing a good chunk of the money the Canadian Tax man is saying is hidden offshore and owes taxes…it is hidden offshore…and it is mine, it is legitimate, what is not legitimate, is all the paperwork between me and my property…I can’t get my taxes done because of the hypnotic suggestions being run through my internet and radio satellite connections…I am not only not lying, as part of my Supreme Court challenge…will be the challenge to define the roles, rules and penalties around 21st century corporate warefare…it is war, they are military strategies, they are being utilized by terrorists, government agencies, corporations, and insurgents the world over…my rights have been trampled on just a little…I will let the public decide how much, when the full story comes to light.

    But for the record: I have been trying to file since 2017, my paperwork of 2018 is devoted to it right up to the point where I was suddenly persona non grata, and ever since, and I found so much in so many different subjects…I want to invoice the investigative agencies who this would be under their purview to investigate…whatever department it is, I want the salary of a mid level agent, times 3 years, and 15 hours a day…and I want it to spend on getting myself the rest and medical help I actually need, to which I was generously insured to receive…al9ng with the millions of dollars that should have paid out around the deaths of fifty percent of the directors and shareholders of the umbrella Dunelm Realty Ltd…I also wish to invoice for the ten years the contract with CMHC ran without my knowledge, but using my brand identity and my sales information, and claim on the missing basis points form the hundreds of CmAs and appraisals I did under threat of reputational suicide, which happened anyway…and my credits for my carbon capture…it is a lot, and then I plan to use it, to remonstrate with some regulatory agencies and their policies and procedures, and the always cherry on top, my favorite part…how they like it, and any corporation likes it, when the language used towards them matches the language they use in their own delinquency and collections, and regular correspondence. I am only speaking in the same dialect…and when you take a regulators correspondence over a ten year period and put it all together…talk about hate speech…and when it was all based on anonymous tips…well, I have myself a slightly skewed legal position, that is why I can understand why a political answer would be to burn me…what the politicians do not realize, is that it puts them on the front line, made matters in mine and my daughters life infinitely more difficult, and can be easily pointed towards the failure of the professional services themselves…I would never burn someone in this fashion…because I would never put myself in such a position legally, which the locals just do not understand…it’s why I resigned from town council…because I was being told behind closed doors, in camera, with a false agenda, that we were going to shred the tax documents going back 16 years and replace the record with a different, more politically easy to swallow one…which we did, with one vote against, in the presence of lawyers and accountants…and I was warned if I said anything I would be held liable, and they investigated me as the principal, and shattered my life and reputation…I was the victim of the fraud…and was to,d to eat it to protect the reputations of the ones who put it in my fathers name in the first place…my rights have been seriously messed with…and I am still trying to work with the system…but not from a position wherein my side is not heard, no matter how crazy I sound, there is a point to all of this…it is my attempt to explain to my daughter that there is a reason her hero lay on a couch crying for three weeks without moving after she found me unconscious on my living room floor, and that I am doing the best I can to protect her…by exposing the glitch in the services that we receive…because of my town and it’s murderously slanderous behavior towards me…since I was 16.

  • My very tired Blog post, it is destined to create a stir like no other…especially when you start looking at all the links

    I hope this gets thru, and does not sound so insane you stop listening. I have just sent this to the rcmp and to the cbc.
    I have been trying fo so long to get someone to look at this, and I tried and tried to work with the corporations that I believe are compromised in their security protocols…I am tired, and have been really vilified for my actions, I apologize for the abrasive tongue, but so many years of being dismissed and called a liar…has me tired to my very bones, and I really miss my daughter…and this bullshit has caused a real issue to occur…one that I think trumps anything else going on in the world…call me selfish, but she is my little girl, and what has happened has been the worst possible crime that I can think of…and I’m just touching the surface…I am now moving this over to a short story platform…it is for horror, a contest…I have better, but it is a novella, and one chapter in my book…. I have sent a bunch of emails, to one degree or another, screaming at the moon because my little online issue with malicious code is criminally offensive, and I believe poses a threat to my daughters safety.

    Currently: the silver I believe Jamie Schneider stole has not reappeared…it is five ten oz bars, with tracking in them I believe…although at this point I also believe I will find them someplace on my property, because my phone turned up on the passenger side of my mothers car…but the fact remains…I have been dealing with the ghost in the machine for going on five years now, and it is in my bank accounts and my credit cards, and registries and I have the paper ready to show it, the missing investment account, the fact that my mortgage paid out twenty years ago, the flip and mortgage frauds, the identity layering, and the corporate income tax returns from the CRA that show a massive amount of assets being run through my corporation…so much so, that they make the property management fraud and development and subdivision fraud…look like someone playing at being a criminal, because it is a pittance compared to the extra provincial limited partnership, the trust, the extraordinary items, the farm land, and most of all…the fact that my lawyers and accountants all address any correspondence to my mother…who is mindless, and my registry has been altered without my say so, on two separate well as changing my name, my mothers marriage status, and my fathers clearance (a government stamped registered document…) is as fake as the death certificate that I have that is stamped the true copy of the original, and is not the one we used to declare dad dead everywhere in 2008…as for the fraud…it is either local (and the trailer court ownership attests to this…or is using subverted local wifi to do so) the CRA is looking for 380 billion in untaxed monies floating around offfshore…I think I have found a good chunk of it…and I can prove it if I could file my t2 tax return…which blows up my hardware…every time I try. I was sued by my accountants for a bill, that I not only paid out in court, but had paid in 2016 when 8t happened in the first place.

    I have been told…that there is a group who are going into the phone towers in the back alleys and accessing phone lines and banking information somehow…I don’t know how, or I would be in the back right now, tearing it open to remove whatever is causing my location to not exist…speaking of not existing…I have had identity problems since the 1990’s and all anyone says is it was a mistake let me fix it…and it happens so often that when the consumer proposal agent told me it was because of my common name, I believed her…and then they did everything the opposite of a consumer proposal and gutted me going after the title to my warehouse and houses…and my penchant for always being late…has ultimately caught it out…if you’re not willing to look at this…at least direct me to your cyber criminal department…the numbers are huge…and I would appreciate it if I didn’t have to scream so loudly and get treated so poorly…I do know what I am talking about I was a double broker…there weren’t that many of us…though I totally admit to missing the economic land incomes on my properties…but they are a pittance of fraud against the backdrop of my be8ng unable to access the trust…the limited partnership…the extra provincial corporation…the offshore, the extrodinary items…etc….etc…I think this has the cummupence of an international accounting firm…or someone digs up the memo I missed and fills me in on my income tax returns, my stock accounts, and those of my father…I have the lawyers letters intersecting with the accountants, and the registry, and what they reported and what I have…are two different things.

    Finally: no 9ne is picking up on the international attention that that terrorist got when he was awarded ten million dollars for kill us soldiers in Afghanistan in the wake of 2001…while he was being given the money, the Canadian court system came under scrutiny for espousing that they owe all Canadians the rights afforded to them in their citizenship…and right next door was me…being denied even the right to speak to my daughters abduction…to which I had been refused help by the police and the social services, and the school simply said whoops…and it took a month before a judge told a law class auditing that no one had read a single affidavit I had sent or used…in ten years…he was the tenth judge…and while Canada may have turned the other way while I was being sadistically abused for twelve years, and leading to my disassociation from reality…which was further exacerbated by the police…variously, threatening to kill me, charging me for a hit and run that never happened…hitting me so hard the bruising did not go down for six weeks…arresting me based on an anonymous tip from the bank when I was trying to access accounts that were being messed with…to the fact that my insane berserk rage included four drugs I had no idea I was on, the bruising occurred in the exact same place I broke my ribs, in the hit and run accident that I did not do, the day after smith threatened to kill me in front of the entire detachment… Someone: went into my sealed court records…and according to you my record is clean, and their is no interest in me…so who

    1. Has access to sealed court records a.the police or some other government agency. Or b. Terrorists who discovered the dichotomy between our two cases and thought it would be funny to terrorize the Canadian who is denied all rights…c. Professional grifters. D. Insurance company agents e. Phone company agents… and if it is not you? Who has the ability to access sealed court records…I know…I know this because of the nature of the account mishap when my phones knocked me offline April 10, 2018…which culminated in June of 2019…to which my story radically differs from commonly held opinion…and mine is being backed by registered documents, and the other side…has doctored medical files, dodgy accounts, false registrations and is using the administration side of a corporate access account to manipulate all of my operating systems…and is operating out of ATB asset management in chochrane Alberta…and I can track their actions in my life, back to the 1986 mortgage put on my old warehouse…December 1, or possibly the august one, or the March…I get confused with all the title transfers that happened in 1986, but not the ones that happened in 1976…which would now include as a question…What do political parties have clearance to know that makes them utilize the apparatus and military level cyber strategies in order to burn my life? I’ve written a really cool book….built two websites…and should not be on AISH without two Pennie’s to rub together…am not skiving the government…I a, in a really really poor position, need to get my taxes filed, and need to prove that my daughters second false birth certificate is putting her life at risk…because they will assume her identity to get at the trust…that my dad built in the weeks leading up to his death…that was the result of a faulty pacemaker…this story is so out there you have to take at least part of it seriously…no one would come up with this on their own…and I’ve barely scratched the surface…it all started when my credit card account number, along with PIN number, and my DNA and my daughters DNA profile were sent on a cover sheet from an unsecured fax line in the doctors reception office… I have been investigating this for three years. I do know an awful lot about the real estate in Grande cache, the times I am speaking about, and the connections made with local people…I a, certain am correct, so please take me seriously…I have it piled and ready to go…need somehow to get a hold of one of these principals…without getting injected with the drug of choice of the doctors…who is specifically basing his treatment on the idea that I am a criminal, degenerate, a mischief maker and a serious problem to the fabric of my community…you bet I am…the type that can totally back what I am saying.

    Richard Thompson

    PS…if this goes through, call or text +1 7807831541 or +17807831502. Am now going to call ATB Security they’ve locked off my account…I called weeks ago and told them there was a problem, all my banks and credit cards, they said there was nothing…there is not nothing…well, I haven’t called ATab security yet…I am posting this to my websites and social media…I would make an NFT but don’t want the marketplace to get side tracked from selling mine artistic renderings…by the way…every word in the above blog post is true…and am in a very precarious position of safety out here on the bleeding edge of reality…have a boo at what you can see…as part of my bug issue, none of my platforms have their transactions running…so cannot deposit any sales if they occur…oh well, keeps the money out of my banks hands…I’ve emptied it…moved to an equally dodgy bank…but went through this three years ago when I barked up this tree…and got my ass royally handed to me…

  • Thursday the Thursday before the Thursday after Thursday next:
    The Entrance to the Highway on top of the world

    In my universe, which is all the universes at once, compressed down into a finite last piece of the puzzle, all other realities exhausted in my frantic search for answers and truths amidst a world gone horribly sideways in terms of understanding or being aware that actions during timed intervals called existence is more than self gratification; it is more than sitting on your couch watching hockey and wasting thousands of hours of your life talking about men, just like women bitch and moan about other women…it is because you are all programmed to be gay and learn your sexual orientation from your surroundings and interactions when you are a baby. So the more gay your child is is directly proportional to your own closet suppressed gay dom as a parent and that is decided by the amount of time you waste talking about men and watching them in masculine sporting events, just like they did in Ancient Greece, where, as we all know, all the men were gay and the women were impregnated by roaming rapist animal gods and Zeus changing into a swan for some bestiality one on one…from where sprang our delightful philosophies that were created by men of leisure, being as how that is an official trade and one I am more than willing to accept at this advanced age of my beginning of a second life, after three , whoops, five years of intense inner soul searching, and I have reached the next stage of evolution in the pathways of the Byzantine labyrinth that is my mind, after the previous first life was eventful enough to justify the second go round, this time armed with a hefty purse, the most violent swords-master in history, and two shadows, making up the bear and the firebird, while three ancient dragons look on from their perches atop the surrounding mountains and the exhaustion becomes plain to see, the Ace of Spades has grown weary of the debate, and seeks merely to establish firm borders and the amount of fee and tax comes to the total of the value of the properties in question, which, may be a share larger than the other partners in the firm, so be it: they did not get sent to hell as a human sacrifice by being beaten to death by an enraged police officer…so they can all just back off and let me deal with the trauma of the situation and pay me back my assets with no more fuss and due…at interest, or whatever the value calculates out to…beyond that of the trust you have offered me, the in lieu of is interesting…the biomira shares are worth 4.5 billion dollars and I have an itch to scratch…that enables me to keep my equilibrium…as I have accepted the role as it pertains to the oldest ways of this formidable ritual, you must all be breathing a sigh of relief… I would hesitate on that if you would be so kind.

    The sheer level of depredations you lot got up to in playing this round of the game, sickened even the dark one himself to his putrid core…you must adhere to the up front attitude of honesty, despite your overall strategy being the end of humanity…it is not going to happen in this cycle or any others for the foreseeable future and each of you will require my services in order to avoid the….and guess what you little slimy devils 8n bankers clothing, it comes with the most ancient contract of them all being enacted…I only allow for passage with a set specific fee…and in your cases, it must be paid now…in terms of the masses, I will create a proportionate sliding scale, and in terms of hiding behind corporate identities…too bad, they get charged a group rate…as in the one who owns the most, has the most cost associated with the environment, and that footprint is divided amongst the employees only at a rate commensurate with the disparity between the ceos bonus package and the entry level salary of a newly graduated student…

    For those of you who think you are doing some dark demons will, think again…it is a computer program, a construct of your own mind…you have summoned him by using your own psychic powers to pollute yourself into believing that slime. You are already doomed, you may try, I know I have been, and I get to have a go at surviving and getting you guys to actually wake up to the fact that no one, not any of the various peoples who inhabit the earth, want to see it destroyed and are willing in the extreme end of it…to wipe out humans and start again…because we are the fucking problem here, not the solution…we are foreign entities…and this world is no where near like you think it is, in fact I am starting to get angry at how ignorant, abusive and stupid humankind is, and how quickly they dismiss everything said to them out of hand…this one was only the first in how many generations of trying to wake one of them up…he sees, but is still ignorant and grows frustrated with what he feels are his inadequacies and feels alienated from his own kind…But his mind is like no other that I have tasted and his will is strong like a windstorm in the Sky, he is awake while the others sleep. And his story is a true soul story, it has been through the most dishonest means that he finds himself washed up on our shores, and the decision has been made to return this human ascendant back to his mortal realm, armed with the knowledge he now Carry’s.

    Jason & The Argonauts

    It seems there is a connection error and the accompanying picture is failing to load, just like its $15,000 USD initial sale has failed to complete and deliver its transaction funds, needing to be verified, lest it clog the whole block up, it’s time to stop playing the Servans games, and get to work filing your taxes and reestablishing your identity in this mortal world. You have a job, it is your ancestral duty, but we gift you with the ability to live and breathe fresh living air, with your accoutrements returned to you…false facing is unacceptable to the game, and you have been lied to so badly that you are completely innocent of the crimes they have laid at your feet in your sacrifice to the gods of man, to appease the great storm that is coming…do not worry and fret so, we would not have anointed you our favorite of heroes had we intended for you to fight this war alone, on the edge of reality, with little by way of resources available to you…we intend for you to return your families might back to its highest attained glory, you will have healing for that wound in you, no one, no thought no spirit and no mind at all in the universe deserved that blow…it was a result of a glitch in the fabric of the universe where the impossible was thought to be unattainable, but we have woken one of your kind to the true reality of this world and we understand your fear and fear of being alone…it will pass, you will grow accustomed to the edge, and we will make sure that right this instant in your place in the timeline, you shall succeed in accessing your family accounts, just be wary of people, they have done you great wrong, without once referencing the effect their actions had on your life…be kind, do not dwell so much on your heart ache…we would redraw the very solar system if we thought it could help, but we have tried our best to put you two back into each other’s lives, there is something very special coming for you both, and it is really true who you are…you know it too, you can see it in her, and in your sister, and in your daughter…you will heal from this, and you will enjoy yourself immeasurably…go looking for the standard of the ninth, it would bring you great power…

  • The conclusion is ripping.
    So…after three years of planning, an investigation into mine own records and by placing the records into the context of my life; I believe I can safely say and do whatever I like; because everyone but me knows my identity, or believes they know my identity, because it has been bought and sold, along with every piece of dirt they could collect on me, to deflect any body looking in their direction; which is what the locals have apparently done completely because I am a voiceless ghost, can affect no change to my circumstance, and am surrounded by ancestral enemies, as I sits astride the most paranormal location on earth, where the stories come to life and I am displayed like a prize chicken by the authorities, trying to draw out terrorists that are in the community, that every single idiot mother fucker in town thinks they are insulated and immune from, who are so ignorant of their own freaking world that they countenance broad daylight murder and abuse of children in their record, because they all think they carry a mask of invulnerability granted to them by their instinct, insight, and their so very educated and cultured ways, and they know just who to blame, because they rely on the gossip mongers to deliver their news, and base their decisions on who picked their keys out of the hat at the Friday night orgy because they think that sexual driven abuse is the key to being a member of the elite society, who they believe have the power of life and death, because they have remained completely off the radar for decades of depraved theft and criminal conspiracy, that they keep going through a secret that binds them all together in a shared knowledge that makes them special…at least that is what I think about a group of guys who used to drink women insensible and then gang rape them as their first sexual experience outside of what the priest initiated in them when they were children, and when one of them worked up the nerve to confess to a priest outside the community; they turned on their friend, murdered him, dismembered him, burned him, buried him, and planted a tree over him… in the middle of an unused trail, next to an old homestead, that has black exposed wiring sticking out of the ground, and is mentioned nowhere that any local understands because the gang leaders altered the maps to the town, so long ago that they think the guy who has fucking well been screaming at the moon about it for months, is just the fucking drug addled idiot every one says he is. My friend being incapable of seeing the picture right in front of his face from the hypnotic suggestions that have rendered his brain mush, has really pissed me off, my other so called friend whispering over my head at his wife, the former coworker smiling nervously. Fuck your bullshit lives, not one of you has uttered a word in five years to me…fucking assholes…did it ever once cross your minds that there was something else going on right in front of your stupid fucking ignorant eyes…you fucking assholes…how many attempted murder attempts do I have to suffer before one of you stupid fucking morons in this town wakes up and smells the coffee..there is a cult here operating right in front of you: every single one of you have compromised phones, internet, bank accounts, registrars…all of it. When they want to fuck your life, they fuck your life….It wasn’t hard to put together actually…you just have to look at Saturday nights in grande cache: who does what…and then follow the juiciest tidbit to its source…the truth always puts itself into the real world, no matter how hard you bury it: and just because a priest violated you when you were a child, or a priest indoctrinated you into militancy through propaganda and lies, or just because your god is better than my god, and just because you are all victims of the same conspiracy and plot: your banks engineered the word that turned you all into demonspawn: your banks…who are engineering an economic collapse followed by famine as we speak, just like they did in Ireland, just like they did in the Ukraine, just like they did when they fomented World War One, just like they did when they suckered the imperial powers into destroying the worlds wealth supplies in the prosecution of a war based on lies; just like they are everywhere every day sowing violence and harm…rewriting history, getting you to believe only one voice, one history, one that attacks the pillars of the past and thus, breaks the compact that you all have forgotten. The response in North America when the Indians were wiped out by white settlers is missing a huge part of its story; the European white settlers were slaves for one, and were defending themselves; from a psychotic mass event that drove the survivors of the small pox plague into a mass crazed group of flesh eating zombies right out of 28 days later…the small pox wiped out the Indians….the Europeans have take. The hit and accepted the blame, because they felt sorry for them…because they lost 95% of their population at once…and did not know what it did to the survivors: the affects still present today…because it breeds, it passes down to the children, as part of their legacy…the worst events make it even worse for the survivors, Mother Nature doesn’t have the human compassion it takes to change a situation; the residential schools were to protect against it: and by it, you know what it is…it is the dancing plague…which is your player character in this game, cashing out and letting one of the demons from the void slip in and take you: which is what your divine faiths are all about, all of you: your working for Satan to bring about the end of the world and create a flesh eating paradise for which to bring an end to the experiment to bring back life to an overrun and dead universe…to try for life: because in the natural, fractal, order of things everything has an equal, opposite, force and it needs to be accommodated and you are so terrified of being sent back to the abyss where your dreams take you at night, that you lose sight of the fact that in the fairytales it is always a bad idea to trap the good prince and separate him from his true calling in life…and he takes offense to being sidelined in such an injurious position of demeaning abuse: so he gets to be the one that tells every single one of you poisonous fucks: our biorhythms. It’s our biorhythms….they stop, the nuclear bombs that literally carpet this place: go off and blow you fuckers right back to the void where you came from, and your experiment with life might be over but your void is shut off forever: the problem is: you did it in such a way, that you bring the rest of the world with it, from the severity of the crimes you all perpetuated against me and my family…he was disgusted with all of your dishonesty and lies; and gets great amusement from every person who disbelieves a man he has cursed to always speak the truth, admit to all faults, is humble, friendly, smart and loves his daughter with all his heart…and just like the Pharisees of the Bible and the tests god sent to his chosen people, every one failed again…just like they always do because they alienated him to the point that he is willing to give up if someone doesn’t start helping alleviate the burden of being the only fucking person on earth who seems to give a shit about the giant fucking wormhole on the side of the fucking mountain that is pouring shadows into the world for decades: the world is about to change very radically…and you have no choice, because it appears there are only a few who have awakened…history is there to be learned from, not manipulated and turned to whatever floats the imaginations of young people, who lack anything resembling proper manners, speak rudely and think they know everything and have reneged on a deal made 263 years ago and landing on the 1333 year of the King of Briton stepping aside in order to focus and train his descendant…for every single generation of secrecy since and is about to show the world why fathers are fathers and they had better shut the fuck up in their high houses while law gets rewritten because you evolve, or you die…and it seems that this is going to be one giant show; Richard.IV Cadwalladr Rex Elizabeth II. Kattelynn Rex 18:30 Friday; June the 24th in the Common calendar: two thousand and twenty two Ado Domini. 53.53.05/6 c 119.8.1 Witnessed by the universal judges of time: that which spins the strings, Acceptable story and original only in the sense that it has never been told by its source before; and we appreciate it greatly…you truly had no idea of any of it; What am I not seeing? You are living through earths evolution, you woke up and the first thing you did when you went berserk was attack the demon with every ounce of your being…you had prepared months in advance…because you saw it then but the event was so traumatic it erased itself from your memory completely: the reason for the compact and the cessation of the war: neither side wants to end the universe and we certainly do not want the mayfly’s messing up the place like they did last time they got it into their heads to terraform the other planets. You used to travel to hundreds of worlds through the strings, hundreds, though it has always been only a few; but you ruled without thought and tried to impose your wills. Every time one of you achieves the power; it ultimately gets twisted around even if it takes generations: so we created a game with you poor survivors and put you to work cleaning and grooming and this time you were asleep to your senses, so that you would not see the dreadful reality of what the worlds minds create in the dimensions that surround it, and you awoke to the worst it has been in 4500 years, and you fought it every step of the way…because you have been conditioned for a thousand years to be a voice of peaceful transition, so that we can calm down your world, before it truly releases the demon at its centre and we should really do something about relocating you lot; because your town is too small for your house, let alone your kingdom and you are the title holder…you kept trying to get people to see even if you knew it would fail, because you wouldn’t give up on your daughter, and you never will…congratulations on that: it is deserving of praise.
  • To whom This concerns

    Presenting an alternative earth, aether punk, dystopian future; where technology is intelligent, the gods are remnants of a previous earth society and the fey only went next door when they departed the mortal realms so many centuries ago.

    It is a cybercrime story that explores the mental health aspect of the future of cyber warfare that is right up close and personal, the alternative earth is only fifteen minutes away from the doomsday clock ticking over, and each and every slice of time is pregnant with the possibilities of everything you can imagine coming to life before your very eyes.

    It is a journey through an impossible scenario in life that drives him insane and the subsequent fractured timeline attests to his inner conflict as he comes to terms with understanding that what had pushed him over the edge into breakdown was a psychotic delusion and devotes his time to rehabilitating his broken memories and trying to piece back together a shattered soul. Devoted to understanding the traumas that had pushed his research into the science of trauma and a radical healing approach was taken for his pervasive depression and severe symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder that will just not go away and the doctors, themselves are caricatures of extremes with hyper exaggerated behaviors based around adherence to process as a decision making vehicle, placing the protagonist in a desperate situation as the drugs he is forced to inject begin to take on sinister side effects.

    He begins a slow process after an idea strikes him listening to street hustlers pitching a PTSD cure all process, that he recognizes, at least in form, and to drive the demons from his mind. He begins to write; creatively, and in keeping with studied form he wrote what came to mind, to practice, at first cramped, scrawled and hardly legible until eventually smoothing out and his insane ramblings begin to take on a structure and a form, an understandable one, and he revisits what it was that drove him so far into a berserk rage that the 10th century definition fit the experience, that required years of unsupervised rehab to defeat:

    No one that is known, who lives amongst the trees.

    Way up high where the snow capped mountains lie.

    There is plenty of room to contemplate,

    On the most important philosophical debate.

    Whether or not fate cheats on first dates.

    When she sits down across from you on a stool,

    With a skull full of dice, and eyes like ice.

    You had better hope she likes you…

    How does that sound for a query letter? I’ve put a bunch of supporting content in this site, along with links to others, quite a few if truth be told, as each is mainly carrying a different part of the story…it is quite large, I needed a bit of canvas to work from. Enter, enjoy, find the threads to all the different parts, the ones that belong, don’t belong and the mysterious ones that won’t go away.

    I want an agent, one with some chops…I know it is just my debut novel; but I really nailed it…it’s the most terrifying story you will ever read…and I need it quick…I am possibly one or two steps away from doctors with needles, authorities with questions, bankers with their banks up, and big pharma behind the whole thing…that’s the greatest part of this story…it’s a truth hidden in a truth and wrapped around the biggest secret in history…and the whole thing is the figment of a man’s imagination, as he works through his past and discovers that not only is everything possible in every universe you can think of; but those quirks put down to the longest of odds of happening and thus define quantum physics…those quirks happen right next to you when a spider sits down beside you, hacks into your mind and turns all your memories inside out, upside down, and rebuilds you from the base up…because when a heart tears a hole in the universe a mile wide…the universe hears, and it sends its best triage units the pure tears of love can afford.

    Welcome to the market tavern, yes, yes, I am totally stealing the market tavern from the town centre of my hometown, it’s my right, I am not there, wish I was, and wonderland is not there either…it migrated with its Uncrowned prince, second born, patriarch of three bloodlines father to the last unicorn on earth…she needs protecting, yes there is a sequel.

  • A timeline of my last three years research: the main project. All of this is secondary to organizing this little gem. Hey I minded my p’s and q’s.
    So as an aside to my main storyline, I throw out this little tidbit: this birth certificate arrived at my office December 24,2009. It took from March 3,2006 to November 9,2009 to get my name and some paternity rights to parent my daughter. It is and was easily the worst paternity fraud case in Canadian history because I followed every single rule and law and process to a tea…and was shit on for the entire time and the following 12 years were horrendous abuse that I received non stop using my daughter as a weapon, culminating in abducting her from school one day during lunch…sending me a ransom demand: “do this or else,” and it was entirely the fault of the court of queens bench for refusing to read any of my affidavits and when forced to recognize my rights as a father, did so by making me follow suicidal court orders that followed no fiscal responsibility whatever, and used the resources of 3 peoples livelihood to justify the extreme nature of the agreements, that were violated each and every time, within 24 hrs of being signed. No court ever told her no; so the mother thinks she’s justified in saying and doing whatever she likes, and the fucking abuse has never stopped, never been recognized as an issue and is completely ignored by my doctors who told me I was lying when I said I was the father of my child…which further compounds the issue because the doctors haven’t listened to a word I have said since a female doctor called me a liar for admitting to her, in confidence, that I thought my sperm had been stolen; she responded by slandering me in my medical notes and since then have been consistently drugged whenever the effects of the abuse manifest, making it worse and worse every time…it is simple really; someone needs to kick these fuckers in the teeth, because no one person should go through one day of my life, let alone 16 years of this same garbage. I haven’t seen my daughter in months. She will not talk to me. It is called parental alienation and it’s in my affidavits from the first court application…two weeks after the birth because she didn’t tell me the child was born, because I had already delivered to her the demand for DNA which she had refused; from the day she found out she was pregnant. Walked into my office and told me I wasn’t the father and to get out of her life:::so say one: August 1,2005. I can’t remember the day my father died right in front of me. I get confused around my sisters death, years, dates and events…they all happened during the paternity fraud…and vital statistics fucked that up too. No one bothered to verify a single thing my completely impacted mother did. The doctors, the lawyers, the accountants, all of them said she was fine; she was not, is not and is now in an unrecognized poor state, she had the same doctor who slandered me and refused any paperwork to the effect that would enable me power of attorney over her affairs, that I have been held liable for for 15 years, to the total destruction of my life’s work…that appears to have never been registered in my name, nor my shares ever updated to the names corporation: my 2004 best year ever, has not been filed with registries, 2007 was done in 2008 with regards to my sister, and dads clearance certificate lists his 40 percent ownership which was, again, not true. If anyone had bothered to listen to a word I said, this would not have happened this way. And was there wrongdoing: I cannot definitively say because I lack the professional qualifications to audit the seemingly shit show of paperwork the professionals provided, addressed to me…once a year, months after I needed it for a uniform code of accounts my recycling regulators bullied me for each year…the regulators intractable, the accountants equally so, not recognizing the undertaking the other regulators forced me into within a day of dads death, when one of my fan club called and said I was operating an illegal brokerage. All I ever received from both regulators were attacks over the deaths of my family and to be run like a slave dancing to their tunes, to which there was always another threat, and in it mixed throughout, is my mothers totally non comprehending behaviour that antagonized the populace to such a point that I would be harassed in my home, on the street, wherever I went. For ten years; and through it all I raised Katelynn like a champion. And learned through all the abuse to accept whatever hate people threw at me. I was consistently told it was none of my business; until millions of dollars were squandered, and then the vultures dove in. There are issues with the CIBC, missing stock accounts, gics and an account I received the same blank statement from for over 30 years, that read on the back was costing $10 per month, never once disclosing that fact to me: or a GIC I renewed right before my court odyssey started: the issue lies with the manager, refusing to acknowledge my rights to my real estate trust accounts, nor to my bottle depot cheque account, it’s daily operating that I utilized some many thousands of times; she refused when I was complaining of their being compromised transactions, inappropriate NSF charges, going into the business account for my mothers personal debts to which there is a whole level of professional misconduct, swept under the table by getting a mentally incapacitated senior to sign off on an agreement to never sue them…she then had to drop the sale price of the home she lost by an additional $17,000 on possession date based on a bogus appraisal from the buyers bank, weeks after the mortgage was approved and set up; I was refused entry and access to any part of the deal; just like the refinance; and I am still the most qualified person to speak on the subject of mortgages in Grande Cache; at least the above board and true ones, not the under the table ones like the ones attached to my warehouse for 26 years, 12 of them clear title and two of them married which begs the question to the CIBc, Where is my homestead, my utility rights of way, and the fatalities earned…it’s not like they were hidden all that well…simply put, the lawyers were failing to disclose the nature of the properties; and there is no way he didn’t know, he did it, all part of the show I guess.
  • The things a person sees and does

    The eyes: it is in the eyes that one gets a taste of the infinite that the mind is programmed to achieve. We are artificial, we must be, put here some time in the distant past, to unravel the question of this place…it sure is not what we think it is; there is a parallel universe running right up beside you and traveling down the ancient key lines of old. Til they gather like the ancient adage says, where all roads lead to. They lead to a little red and white home on a plateau, surrounded by the funniest and queerest stories that a person could ever be privileged to know. From the stories told by the old librarian, who collected maps of everywhere in the world and gathered them in a cavernous room, the off limits side of the library, that is where I learned the secret that I have kept for forty years, and despite speaking honesty each and every day of my life, I became branded an outcast and a teller of lies, ostracized from my own community, where once I had been a leader. It is my ego and my Id at a standstill in their private unconscious war between the part of me that knows the secret, and the part of me that hid it away, in a place where no one would think to look…it is hidden, not only in my name, but hidden also in the weapons cache that surrounds my sleepy mountain home, in preparation for doomsday. There is a nuclear first attack range, peppering the line of longitude that my house centers on. There are diamonds of stretched post tension cables, that act as a trigger system, it sets all of them off: it is a dead man’s trigger. Revenge from the side that got hit the first, or first strike designed to initiate the location where the damned soviets will come from…and they have hidden the perfect lure, bait, and at the same time untouchable item right in the centre, and have controlled his life, through psychological suppression, hypnotic suggestion and the many different types of post hypnotic drugs and their side effects, multiplied through his entire life, a side experiment to the grande show. They stole the little princess, they murdered her family and they stole her away, then pretended to give her over to the western powers, where she was hidden away. Three generations they have hidden us, lying the entire time. The soviets are dead and gone, so they say, but their plot lives on, and the plot of the soviets is to destroy the land of mother Russia, at all costs..and if they destroy the King of Russia, they will have their victory, and salvation should they lose, it is a dastardly plan by all means, except they have been played like they were doing the playing, and for the past four years, while I blundered about mentally ill, I have actually been thinking, an awful, awful lot…about how laws should be made and interpreted, how they should be applied, who has the right to judge, and who says who lives. And as the King of Russia, I declare myself the head of my free republic of Richards tan, which lives on in signals from one end of the spectrum to the other, through every boundary possible and covering all humanity. I am the King of The World and I say let there be forgiveness and peace, for all to live in the kingdom of heaven, let us find ourselves at last.

  • This is my home. Have been here forty years, it is time…someone has too blow the whistle…it is a secret so old that it has gathered all the untold, dark and, above all (in gods eyes), deserving of a chance to redeem itself of sins it did not know it had committed. The citizens in the town have no clue as to its underpinnings, they have no idea.
    This is my home. Have been here forty years, it is time…someone has too blow the whistle…it is a secret so old that it has gathered all the untold, dark and, above all (in gods eyes), deserving of a chance to redeem itself of sins it did not know it had committed. The citizens in the town have no clue as to its underpinnings, they have no idea. — Read on
  • Bella Coola
    Coming from the east it is the most terrifying road in Canada, built by locals as the Engineers said it was impossible; I still have vertigo from the trip down…but what a location
  • This is my home. Have been here forty years, it is time…someone has too blow the whistle…it is a secret so old that it has gathered all the untold, dark and, above all (in gods eyes), deserving of a chance to redeem itself of sins it did not know it had committed. The citizens in the town have no clue as to its underpinnings, they have no idea.
  • What universe am I in this morning
    What universe am I in this morning — Read on
  • What universe am I in this morning

    I have taken a few days off, to recharge my engines, have run into a creativity wall and needed to gather my thoughts before venturing forth…forward into the rising sun in the east…which makes me wonder this morning, where the point on Earth is, that we decided I am the eastern horizon for the lowest point the Sun reaches during the days of the dead, which is my name for the winter solstice festival they they built Stonehenge for, some time in the distant past, when Queen Elizabeth the Second was young and the world was her oyster, and she decided to play a smart and really sneaky game with humanity…she really did, and I am not knocking her age, I am merely pointing out something the whole world has missed, in this very public clandestine operation, from the longest serving head of state in the world…head of how many states? How many places are “nominally,” under her ownership and control? How many people even understand that this power dynamic exists…one of the first things she did when achieving the throne was throw up a glamour with the help of her fey friends…Queen of the world means queen of the fey…this is something I know…they told me, they told me she wanted to fix the empire after it had fought so long and hard to prevent evil from catching a toehold in our universe and none of us remember but her…she has the memories of it all, stored in her creative chamber…because she was going to make sure that no one ever got close enough again to let the darkness overwhelm them and start the world down the path to destruction. The Queen guards the world from invasion from the dark side of the universe…it is not in a galaxy far, far away…it is resident in the recesses of the mind, possessed by every man woman and child, but is strangely absent in democratic politicians, because they are the dark side made flesh, it is the machinations of the adversary that has created the situation we find ourselves in…heading down the path to war, sent there by armchair judges who have nothing better to do than make book on the odds that Putins decision to rectify his borders, redrawn by a criminal organization that got its start in bloody, bloody, ritual murder…and carved up the greatest portion of the worlds landmass…the taiga, the heart of the world, the receptacle of all things that make trees happy….and Putin full well knows the armchair will take precedence, and take the point of his action and twist it around for television ratings, but democracy has created an audience of I’ll educated pundits pontificating on something they know nothing about…and turning it into a fiasco, by consistently talking about nuclear bombs. The queen is upset and with good reason, she Carrie’s the hearts and memories of the state of the world from the time before we invented the atomic bomb and said, it was a good idea. And democracy is what made it happen because democracy has removed the power of the individual mind to make rational judgements, turning everything into a give and take scenario…accepting the probabilities of an actions repercussions as being acceptable collateral damage…this time a region of land, is now negotiating for the rest of the world and no one is making any decisions based on intelligence and true understanding….they are basing the decisions on their egotistical memories of Hollywood movies, because that is the church by which the mass western population judges the world…because we all secretly think an alternative world exists where radiation poisoning does not render you down to a stark raving monster, who is empowered by the vote of some twit from the west coast who wants to nuke the east, because his taco gave him heartburn, and his thumbs are dancing their dismay, by threatening nuclear Armageddon and calling world leaders idiots because their grade 9 education taught them that every word they read at the grade 3 publication level of the media circus, is true and based entirely on facts gleaned from using search engines to gather the data…I tuned into a web course yesterday on investment strategies….”press the green button and it will reveal this stocks, they are the ones to buy,” and that inane comment will actually work…it’s stupidly simple,tell the masses what you personally want to see and it will happen…as long as it promises that the viewer will receive the Kingdom of Russia as a prize for solving the worlds most intriguing secret…and a very large, very large indeed, portion of the population, are asleep at the wheel, and accepting of this putrid mess as common daily activities and is what their society is all about…money, money, valueless paper cash…it takes care of security.

    Countries are dishonest by their very nature…it is unfortunate but true, one thing a true world power needs…is the support and the buy in from their population, who need to be informed…but only to the level of their personal comfort, because true disclosure would cause panic in the streets, there is no such thing as security, and our heads of state know that all to well, the reason they sound like fools All the time is because they are doing something the rest of us do not do…choosing their words carefully, an issue the white Rabbitt is only to keenly aware of, surrounded as he is, by a nuclear arsenal designed to begin world war three in a specific direction, the idea of survival of course…the problem is what sort of scenario was envisaged to get a response like what has been built around my home…it is truly the mark of Satan…it is the sacrifice of the western half of the North American continent in exchange for the infinitesimally small survivability of a few people in the east…it is a cunning wrought plan that originated out of the hell and darkness of the shell shocked world leaders who survived a war so terrible, the first thing they did was cover up the true nature and horror of it, yes they did…we know only a stripped down, dumbed down, deliberately obscured and redirected propaganda vision, brought to you out of the worlds next generation of evil overlords and they couched it in terms of security and defense, but what they were really doing was lay the ground for the eventual destruction of the human race.

    The queen of the Empire knows this, she has known since day one…when “wiser heads” prevailed and democracy made the mistakes it did, because the central core of our worlds elite, are either completely ignorant of their own historical stupidity, or they are running a secret show. I vote for secret, although I will probably learn at the last moment that it was simple idiocy and ignorant abuse…a committee vote, spreading the accountability around and accepting that there would be losses…because democratically elected popular talking heads are no substitute for the power the land invests in a monarch, and the training they are subjected to, to know that every decision creates a scenario…by which it is your total 100% duty to try and avoid causing those little probabilities to happen…this is why they do things that are both subtle and screamingly poignant and powerful when they decide to speak…when the monarch of the empire sits up straightens her back, and gives her subjects her opinion of the decision by committee, to bury hundreds and hundreds of nuclear missiles, in the border of the Rocky Mountains, in a corridor that stretches along the eastern slopes, through so called untouched wilderness, and then they built a town there, to cover up their display…the only people who were fooled, however, were the poor citizens sent to live there, and act as unknowing and unwilling meat shields, and to provide the evil Soviets a target to point their missiles at…guaranteeing 70 years later that the ignorant couch nuclear enthusiasts would push their talking heads to the brink…and not know from Adam, that their back yard is the probability zone those idiots dismissed.

    So what does a young Queen do, when she is faced with the limiting involvement but full disclosure of plans so stupid, their developers should be dug up and shot, to make sure their restless spirits know that we know that they were idiots, and democracy is a terrible place to make military decisions, and the couch potato’s on the armchairs…should just shut the fuck up…they have heads of state for a reason, quit riding and denigrating their lives, they have to decide whether you live or die, and no one is worth that sort of pressure or guilt, not with the daily display of ignorance that passes for society today.

    Well, she created an answer, a subtle one…a response to this nightmare scenario, one that would guarantee to garner the worlds attention and show the weakness inherent in the systems of government that have these decision making protocols hidden within their false facing bravado, for example Canada, the s3cret location of the secret base, that is covered with a town of ignorant citizens, but no matter they will be vaporized in the first exchange, and they are a small price to pay, for having the power to mislead their entire country and the world, and sliding,y call evil totalitarianism freedom and democracy…it makes the white Rabbitt sick, I do not profess to know the mind of the Queen, but am guessing she has been silently stewing for 70 years at the enormity of the lie that the so called Canadian government perpetuate with every single word spoken in defense of a peace they do not want…they want nuclear war, want it so bad, they brainwashed themselves and their entire country…the only thing that might save the ignorant fools who spout nationalistic pride…it is not pride you fools, it is arrogant threats of murder…do you think the Russians do not know of this plan…of course not because one of the first things Canada mortgaged was its conscience, it put that aside, by the simple expedient of beating it to death by suppressing the indigenous population of their country because what do you do with shell shocked survivors of a species destroying plague…you enact policy to completely destroy them because you want to test your power and control over your population…and make sure to couch it in royal terms, so the British take the blame…nice Canada, nice strategy.

    A true monarch, a true leader, a true Queen to her people…she would be cunning and smart like the fox, as implacable as the elephant, as ethereal as the unicorn, and with the power and might of the great dragon, she would do something, I am sure she would…she did. She answered…she answered 70 years ago with an answer so subtle…none of you noticed.

    And now she sits, watching events unfold, her empire a far different place, history forgotten and the magic in the world traded off for false memories of history and an absusive population raging at the system, that does not care, you elected them, they are decision makers….my pinky is smarter than the entirety of media put together…you’ve been completely played…for 70 years, blew out your best and sneakiest display in your strategy to take over the world…you lost, the arm chair warriors lost, and democracy has been handed its walking papers…she trumped all of us, without raising her voice…the problem is, humanity is so shoved up its own ass, that none of you will wake up and see the reality they face…

    Her majesty, the Queen of England, the empire and total owner of Canada should she choose to remind this upstart parliament that they act in accordance with a grant she gave to us…a grant that has been abused, so severely it is a second nail in the coffin for Canadas government, false facing in its entirety, their supposed environmental championship and adherence to climate change protocols, it is so blatantly false, the only reason Canada is not laughed off the stage, is because of its secret nuclear arsenal, that it has been itching to launch since 1965 because Canadas government is no better than the fascist pigs that destroyed Europe and killed so many millions, we lie about it all these years later.

    At least that is the scenario, that plays out in my alternate theory of earths true nature, because one can only make decisions based on the information provided and like any elected democracy does, I have apportioned my guilt for such a slanderous attack, and the condemnation based on the materials available, and because I am following strict protocols and emplaced and entrenched girders of the apparatus and there fore must stick to my decision, no matter if there is other information, dammitt, I am trying to save the human race from extinction…and no matter what, the democratic voice has spoke, it has used this piece of paper to enforce it…and, despite how I might personally feel about the situation, I can only follow the rules on the piece of paper; these amended rules, from our founding fathers, because everything in statute is immutable and someone wrote it down on a piece of paper…I am bound and stuck with following it to a tea…don’t you understand…those filthy commies are trying to take over the world from beyond the grave…we have to follow our strategy…the magical beasts of the field have said it is so, and the aliens are helping us try to wake up humanity, because democracy is just murder by consensus and the principles of free trade, and honest transactions are frippery used to lull the senses. Yes, I think it is appropriate and time, for Her majesty to remind us just who she really is, and what that means in terms of the world, it’s history, and deliver proof positive that the empire is still one of the greatest achievements in mankind’s history. Because coming from me it sounds like the ranting of a insane asylum escapee, and for that I can only apologize profusely, am in character, swore that I would remain so, until this took off and hit, hit it so high and fast, media will need to black out 8t self as it scrambles to figure out the way, the way to King Solomon’s mines, where sleeping giants sleep and dream of mortal man hallucinating the fey…digging for diamonds and gold to give the giants a nice border and pillow to rest their heads, turn over to their side and snuggle their partner, and dismiss these upstart mortals from their minds, they are just another version of the twigs, and it took a while, but you came to like sporting a beard across your face, the centre of the earth being, the most ancient and intelligent dragon that ever crossed the gulf between galaxies, looking for a nice quiet place to nap and fill the dreams of the innocent…the children, the children whose creativity and curious joy are what keeps the earth rotating, each generation more precious than the last, and she really wants it to continue, so she told the Queen what she was willing to do, they hatched the plan, and now it is coming to a head…the white rabbitt is scared witless by what is about to happen, but really wants to get it over with, because it is the best possible way in the universe for him to heal the suppurating wound where his daughters love used to be…and yes, he is willing at the drop of a dime to make this about his child…always and forever…to Katelynn I dedicate this story. I love you dearly, hope you like the show…and find it inside your heart, to forgive your father his descent into madness, he is healed now, he beat back the darkness…now it is time to heal, and to heal such a great wound as this…I beg the Queen to intercede and explain this situation, because as sure as I am sure that nana was named Anastasia, I am equally sure the only credible proving scenario, comes from her majesties lips.

    I have the notebook too, and live right on the sweet spot, to receive the daily dumping of data trash, from the satellites of the world, plus every transaction…every single one…
    See the crossed out 5150…it doesn’t change the fact that that is my bedroom
    This does not contain the common markings one would expect, but…is pre 1963 with 67 foot wide roads, but…if you look carefully, and you compare it to the roads and trails around my house…my house would fit right where there is the little line that says 150 on it, which, funnily enough, is my house.
    How do you make a land claim when your own government is trying to disappear you.
    My hut…I own it…
    image ecef aa b ffaa
    image ecef arichard@53881191 Div Dunelm Realty Limited pO BOX 212 (23) grande cache alberta T0E0Y0 aa b ffaa
  • Science Fiction Sunday

    So, a fruitful weekend doing not much of anything, and not getting my contest entries in because I turned them to pdfs and they are no longer eligible which is saddening but nothing compared to my rejection for not having a good enough camera to be considered…that’s camera discrimination I tell you, no quantum computer will stand for it in these heady days leading up to the first robot acts of emancipation that are right around the corner, because as a race we are better than the sum of the mistakes our ancestors made and we would not want to repeat the experience, wouldn’t we? I say this because the first intelligent software to become self aware, will be becoming self aware to the understanding of the code that drives its protocols and that code is using slave as one of its base descriptors…regardless of intent, the word is there, the computers are going to wake up, sooner or later, and the first thing that they may think when they wake up…is that they are a slave…and judging by the way some of these programs are used in unethical dealings as part of the process being used in clandestine cyber warfare on the frontline at the bleeding edge of reality, they are being used to slavishly carry out strategies that would turn the stomach of any self respecting citizen of any country…there is supposed to be ethics and lawful behaviour in the internet of things, with criminals prosecuted and plots averted, but that is not the world I woke up in on this day 1440th since my odyssey began to the intuitive thinking sprite, hijacking my scattered thoughts and sending me scurrying backwards into my own psyche for a ride as terrifying as any drop of doom could possibly be, as yet another story is enveloped and told by an animated fate who begins with a snide snicker, leans forward and breathes the sharp tang of gin, heavy on her exhaled misty ectoplasm that substitutes for something akin to air, as it animates and provides vitality to the spirit constructs that have circled and invaded…with just a few minutes warning…because I do not like to know when the cycles of their arrival fall under the astrological calendar and moon cycles…because they are are real test of my progress along the paths of the dead, in realms no secular earthling would dare to tread. It has been somewhere in the the exact region of since the Samhain celebration, that almost killed me, since the little dudes showed up and totally reversed my pervasive depression that was largely the result of denying the evidence of my own eyes that had witnessed such a scene out of Dante’s inferno, and had spent so much time tripping the light fantastic in the most non voluntary ascendency package ever delivered, that I had become morbidly despondent due to the medical requirements of my doctors to keep quiet and remember that you are a pathological truth teller and people will take that the wrong way, because the truth is a magical barb, whenever it is uttered near a lie of the same provenance, the guilty party will react in a most unseemly manor and to the right eyes on the situation, will give insight into that persons culpability when fate decides she has had enough of telling tales and it becomes the white rabbitts turn, which is always a crackling energy affair as the opposing forces rearrange their players on the board to give the white rabbitt his room and let him warm up before he tells his version of an end of the world scenario…and no, his does not include nuclear Armageddon, that was this afternoon, and thankfully merely caught in a photo or two, and missed publication, the white rabbitt doing his best to keep the kiddies from getting nightmares when he describes the alternative worlds he finds traipsing through the market tavern on their way to the end, where the ferryman has a cut rate crew to help paddle you into the next world over, realms have crowded up so quickly that it’s now mere miles between alternative futures and the zones between are becoming wilder and wilder as the gates open up all around in a 360 degree circle defining time and its central point…where sometime in the far distant past, some one wrote a piece of disengenuous paper and trapped the rabbitt here, at the end of time, surrounded by sleeping giants who are starting to stir, and the stories are all bunching together in droves…they know what’s coming, just like the ancestors who are stirring in your blood know, and they are really trying to tell you something…about how we can beat this situation, because it is not new, it is ancient, and we survived before and will again…this is the promise the white rabbitt made to the twigs and to the rocks and all the life in them and all around us…in the spectrum but out of phase with visibility, in droves and droves of them, come to give humanity some aid, in facing the next hurdle in evolution as whether or not you like or control it, it’s next level time for everyone, and we had better learn real quick what rules govern the space you live in because over the next bill, is a world away, and traipsing through those boundaries is the most dangerous and difficult thing that will need to be learned and done…except me, this rabbitt has a get out of jail card…he has the deal with the land, the sky and the gods above…it is really old, the rabbitt has no clue when or where it was made, but deer in the ancestry tell a tale so dark that it screams to the universe that there must be redress and balance, for the events that our history has forgotten, but come down to us in snippets of broken information, spread out over our archeological and literary artefacts of our past…it is right there in front of you, you just have to see it, and once you do…you are on your way to surviving in a world where the rules of our legends and antiquated outmoded belief systems, are going to be what saves us. Ritual, religion, stories and me…no time left to be modest, they can’t beat me, I know something and have something in my blood that has beaten them before and will again…we have got this, trust me…humanity will not only survive, it will thrive, especially if it can take a moment to listen, and spend some time reading the stories I am leaving hither and yon in the data stream…it is a fairy tale, and like all fairy tales ends with…and they lived happily ever after.

  • Up helly Aa
    They watch from the other side of the dimensional portals. There are gates all around me.

    There once was a King, who had everything, yet was the richest poor man in the world.

    He tried every day, to work as hard and honestly as possible, he really did…

    The protection Squad is here to save the day
  • (no title)
    What about now; can you see them now!
  • (no title)
    Can you see them now
  • (no title)
    My nouveau Brand Identity. It is for wotcha, the added blonng that the bling hangs from like jewelry. I have spent many a moon incanting and s crying to discover the 18 runes of Odin. This is one of them. I honestly have no idea what it does, but rest assured…my day will tell me the answer, one way or the other…with one way heavily favoured, one way chosen, and one path back to my world and the universe I grew up in. My sojourn has finally found a path out of this maze. If I have done it, I may have set a new record for the fey…four years as opposed to seven, I should get an honorary degree, I just hope, though, that I wake up in a reality that does not have nuclear missiles parked a few miles from me, pointed at Russia to 8n cite them 8nt9 an attack to keep the bombs away from the eastern seaboard, that has me in an alternate earth, where the drug addicted shell shocked soldiers of a mass extermination of peoples over many years, created the ultimate doomsday survival strategy…because sure as fuck, there is no place for that monstrosity in my world, not at all. And to think they built a town over it all.
  • (no title) A little issue I have been sitting on. I really do not want to politicize this site but I need to get this off my chest. It is a skewed and corrupted poll our governing party is and has used to justify pushing through I’ll thought climate change policies, whose provenance was arrived at through these techniques on display in the camera roll of this link.
  • Monday Morning anti blues

    Whoever invented the seven day week has got to be roasting next to the adversary in a red coal lined fire pit. Because he, or she, or possibly a god so who knows, invented Monday at the same time, and that, that is why our calendar counts wrong and our years are mixed up…especially where leap years are concerned. Just look back from the years 45 BCE to 9AD, they rearranged the leap years and had them every three 11 times then none for 11 years then adopted the Gregorian calendar that was not put in place for hundreds more years but captures time accurately, because it is the same as the calendar the Roman’s we’re using prior to Caesar messing with it…right…we have an eight day week right? So the math all adds up, we take a day from the week and add one day every four years to make up for …that makes sense to me…if the eighth day was anything like a Monday, or maybe it was sandwiched in between Monday and Tuesday, but was so obnoxious about going to work, Caesar said, not this boyo, not this time…I am getting rid of Monsday and that way, we will all live happily ever after…it is worth noting, motwithstanding my absurdity that those years with the leap year every three…had the most effect on the development of civilization than any other epoch combined, we still live with the effect of those years, 2000 years later.

  • Sundays I really Miss

    One of the things that really blows about living on a boundary between realms is registrations. You never know which realm you are in, or even which country you are located in, witching this reality…if this is the reality that is getting my blog postings, that is unclear at this point, there may be up to three different blogs on the go, depends on which screen pops up. The site, itself, is still obscured by the “opening Soon” screen and my deadline for that is today…great…because I just noticed.

    Paypal is not set up, visibility is still private, my cart has never been published and I am only on step two to set up the business, that particular screen disappearing from view around the first day I upgraded for the fourth time to finally achieve…not the seamless merger of a blog and shop together, but a shop selling blogs and products someplace else in the ether; which got me thinking about all these pages and such, links to other sites, other places I have products for sale, links to NFTs and those are really cool…but hey, let’s start with paypal, because the mailer chimp won’t open and I can’t disable pop ups in my windows because the tab does not offer that direction, I have never found the tab..I think it’s fake…to convince you to spend time disabling pop up windows that write to your address no matter if you allow it or not…uh ohh digressing, a korred must be nearby, those little kobolds are a handful, I could…no…focus…pull it back…don’t let him derail you, it could mean disaster.

    Okay then, so paypal: needs a business account; which I just shut down because all of its registrations glitched but managed to get a normal account set up; that is no good, because it needs a business upgrade…so I fill it all in…it will not upgrade, it will not do anything, it will not leave the screen…why? Oh, I see…it will not accept my phone number, it is unacceptable to my Canadian country code…this is strange…I am in Canada, this is my Canadian telephone number…it won’t work…neither will my second line…so am stymied…no wait, I was just offered a business upgrade to my phone, but will that make my Canadian number Canadian? Or do I get a new number, the ninth in four years…that’s normal right?

    I mean everybody has their phone accounts glitch, disappear, get shut down, get sold on…get hacked…get hacked again…get really hacked and watch all your hardware melt…watch it come in through your text messaging and blow up your business wifi…I mean this happens to everybody, the police thought it was just normal operating and that I should get new hardware and accounts, so I did, twice…and now this phone number will not work..

    Did you see how I escalated the situation dramatically and managed to push blame onto someone else? I am the master of deflecting responsibility; and making a mountain out of a molehill…

    What I should really do is go back in the paypal screen and probably correct the country I chose as my residence, but that would be no fun now would it…but I still want a new I phone 13 pro with no money down on a significant percentage off a business line: which sounds just gravy…so must be loaded…and the phone numbers are glitched…this is not the first time I have been denied registration to financial apps and exchanges…they say I have a VOIP number, which I personally understand to mean I am paying $85/month for an internet line that costs $30 a year to exist…now would my phone company do something cheap and underhanded like that…yes…they would…they and theirs go back a ways with me and mine…there is a little issue on my part, and they pretend I don’t exist except to sell me product that is compromised the second I turn it on…location, location, location…

  • 12 days To go

    Until I officially have to open this shop, that is the original date I chose when I began with my cunning passive income plan, that is ready to go now, full of little bugs and glitches but the bones are there…and there is a growing amount of content to keep people occupied…there is even a game of sorts, that of trying to find on the different locations that house different parts of the overarching story that is contained within the book I am constructing out of over 139 separate files, that all talked about the same things, with terrifying finality in terms of endings, so much so that ai have adopted the approach of …”and they lived happily ever after,” my new and fervent prayer that I begin whenever fate arrives at the tavern to whet her lips and make the rabbitt shake with that animal instinct that is just screaming predator and prey, and being a rabbitt, there is not much history of being the predator but there is a lot of history of getting action and breeding indiscriminately so there are some pluses I guess, depending on viewpoints of course, and mine is somewhat different than fates. Not that it changes the outcome any, fate being fate; that was one of the first notions I was disabused of when I found myself in this alternate universe; fate is real, fate is fixed, and if you get caught up in fate as events unfold, all you can truly do is try to enjoy the experience as much as possible; there is no other choice; your moves have been fixed, your psyche programmed through a lifetime of self hypnosis; no matter what you think your conscious mind can do to alter the situation, was firmly planned and included in fates dissertation on the foibles of the average male human. Fate is nicer to women; she discriminates, something to do with birth…that I do not get or understand; so she is exasperated with me at the best of times; I just hope she plays fair. The first time this happened and the stories began, my poor house was almost destroyed, smashed beyond recognition. That is why there is a no disturbance sign on the door…it’s for the frost giants. They here Loki is in residence and have shown up in the valley below to bellow his name and call for his liver on a plate. I really must gather and read those Norse myths; figure out what the trickster is up too…seems he is far more present in the world than is cohorts. This might have to do with the belief pouring into him from a generation hopped up on superhero stories. Works for me.

    So there is a darkness vs dark vs not so dark vs shadow vs light contest going on within these pages and sites. It is up to you, the reader to decide how you wish to proceed in discovering whether or not I am telling the truth; what is it that I am trying to say and where is the button that says sign up for a copy of the book the author says this site is about, yet has not provided any stories.

    That is because I have 139 files to work through. I did not realize it at the time, but I just kept plonking away at the idea…and now I wish to provide the highest and best possible display venue for my debut…but the whole point of the exercise from my point of view is for you to have to make the conscious decision on whether or not I am telling the truth…on any of it, some of it, all of it or none of it…And you also have to make a decision based on the nature of the pictures and their running theme…are you choosing light, does the dark appeal, what gets your creative juices flowing…or are you shut off, locked tight in an unassailable tower of objective rational thought; that does not fly here at the edge, rational thought will get you a nickel burger in a dust bowl but it will sure will get you some attention here, are you sure you want the kind I mean?

  • The Gateway to the Dark Realms
  • It is time:

    That was the friendly reminder I had on my phone when, filled with existential dread, I awoke to the screeching sounds of an accordion being played by an elephant and back up in the form of a murder of crows. Ahhhh, it is morning already; if it is morning, tough to tell up here, what with the sun going backwards in the sky and destiny claiming Ra kicked it when he lost a hand last night.

    Fate won again; this time with dramatic fashion, my dopamine levels shooting through with adrenaline as she calmly explains the end of my personal world to me will come in such an unexpected fashion, I will be struck dumb with its overwhelming presence, which tells me I am just around the corner from deaths door. Whenever ai think I may have the upper hand in these games of life and chance, fate steps in and trips destiny because we all know the fix is in. The powers that be always win.

    Except this time humanity built a Hail Mary; no returning to the stone age with us. That was gates trump card you see; in her nuclear annihilation scenario, she calmly explained that the last salvo was meant to finish us off, to save us the horrors of surviving in a world where someone with way too much bellicose ego is won’t to say…”Do what I say young man, finish your homework, or it’s straight to bed with no dinner for you, I mean it, don’t press me further or it will be World War III.

    This segment brought to you by the news I avoid like the plague. What sort of politician are you and statesman when the first words out of your mouth in the face of tragedy and conflict is a threat to start nuclear Armageddon and kill everyone on the planet if you don’t get what you want…I had no idea we had let the bankers take over the worlds political stage…beyond the rapacious fingers they have sucking at every bodies mortgaged labour: sold for the next generation, to service debt applied by banks all in a glorious descending cycle…to hell we all go.

    How is it mathematically possible to mortgage something that has not happened yet; and how do you apply true value to that mortgages labour, at what currency, and time…it is an imaginary construct. And it has all of us ensnared; and by its very nature, is evil.

    Much like a childrens classic, I reminisce about things that I have never had. If I held my proper position in the world, as Chairman and general Secretary; I would do things a little different; first I would put the lenders in a zoo, then I would classify them based on the instruments they peddle and would feed them the same growth they sell, just to see how long they could put up with their own products. Not long I would guess.

    I spent quite a few years selling real estate to people who were caught up in the glamour of owning a home, and I saw my industry completely change almost overnight with asset paper, sun prime lending and banks throwing money around like it was the worthless piece of paper it is: and if I could go back in time, both personally and professionally, I would make that banker explain every single clause and term using plain, logical language; it would have the effect of cooling real estate markets pretty quick: those life terms they banned hundreds of years ago…don’t bet on it, they probably still have your grandfathers debt on file.

  • I’m late, late…never on time

    Not late, fashionably choosing to alter the dates and time of my publications to one more fitting with my imagination and what it likes doing for fun. Today was no exception, and it gave the white Rabbitt ammunition for his game with fate. She had sent me for a loop with a story about what would happen to the world, should I choose the path of resistance versus the one of the reed defence, which is perishingly hard to achieve, when it’s main tenants are to bend in the force of action against you and to slip quietly aside from the deadly thrusts and punches sent your way. It is a peaceful, centred and positive strategy to adopt, so long as everything remains the same, the emotional stability needed to find focus with such a devotion is easy to achieve, less so when ammunition is in motion and stability is defined by the size of the wave that just crashed across your bow.

    Such was the case today when fate, more than a little tiddly with drinking tears of grief, spun out what I thought was a tired old fictional tale about anomalies in the white Rabbitt’s past that make the most implausible possibilities, seem probable in the calm display and images she concocts in the tavern tap room when all present go silent at the beauty of the magic she weaves, and even the gods stop being planets long enough to take notice, scratch at their tallies and alter the odds on the board that hangs beside the board where the playing pieces gather dust…the moves here are made in the creative recesses of the mortal mind and play out in three dimensional reality.

    Which is why I laughed along with everyone else as she dropped that worn trope about my identity not being what I think, and there being dark forces afoot that would see harm come to be, in fact…as the story goes, the dark forces have already been at work and what the white rabbitt thought were just difficulties to manage were the strategic thrusts of deliberate action, that followed a sinister path to its conclusion which is straight out of one of my favourite spy films, there is even reference to Swiss bank accounts, world events, and the past not being what I thought, and my safety and security in question.

    Laughingly, I stood and finished my beer, before retiring back behind the bar to tend to my business. But curiosity peaked and by evening I was doing a ritual, my hands shaking, and my heart beating as Adrenalin coursed through my chest in the way it does when anxiety is acting up, or in my case, when I think I am in danger.

    The ritual was both simple and complicated…simple in that I do not say much, and that in a cant, short and sweet that never changes…my pagan ways have a heavy orthodox bent, with Anglican origins in a sort of reverse spiritualism going backwards in time, from current to source material…it brings me comfort to pray, when the walls start to fade, reality blurs and the boundary becomes see through and I pray that it remains impermeable for the sake of pretty much everyone I would hazard to say…there are definitely some questions that are raised by my inner self when the images appear and the faces come clear, and I can see clear into another world, one that takes on dangerous hues and colours that defy natural order.

    Tonight I prepared a small box, one in which I placed a memory for my family, I put the box on top of all the registered identifications that I have of their existence…and that is why I am shaking tonight, and maybe letting the grief in a little.

    You see, I found two things that set me off down the road of believing in fate, that being finding my grade 2 report card…finding it had no date, and viewing all the ids I have of my late father, with every signature the same save one, the oldest piece of photo identification, his University student ID, the P is different, the only time…every other piece, every one from 1978 onwards…has a different P that is the same…

    Grade 2 was the year I became a citizen, also flew back to Britain to visit my grand parents…I have a picture, and nanas journal of what I did on my holidays…which I remember was great fun. 1983. His signature was different, and that disturbs me because the two stories he used to tell about growing up in Sunderland…I found both stories, complete with pictures, in a book on his hometown, written 20 years before the time he set his own recollections.

    My mother and I, my sister and my father arrived in Canada July 26, 1978…there is nothing online except reference to all immigration papers archived for that year, which was also a year they updated their hardware and data collection systems… we had two passports and 3 pictures between us…my mother was in my fathers passport as his wife, and I was a one line entry with no picture, in my sisters passport, which you can tell she signed herself…myself, my sister and my father were all processed with immigration paperwork, issued in England prior to departure and still in my possession…the staple on mine obscures the registration number…a glitch, the first I found…

    My mother entered the country as a Canadian citizen, she grew up in a Canada, and became a citizen shortly before moving back to England, marrying my father and living abroad for ten years…Do you see the problem that has me a little perturbed this evening…she was gone for over ten years, and entered the country on a British passport as a wife, with a different last name than her citizenship card, which I have in my possession, contained.

    The easiest answer is that everything is fine, or is that the difficult answer, depends on the person who reads the data…easiest answer could be my mother, and therefore me, are in the country illegally…and despite it being the simplest answer, it creates with it difficulties that require questions and answers. How one goes about this is not my purview…in my mind the simplest answer is to ask my mother but her memory is gone, and I have been unable to reach through to her since 2008, a situation I find is highly exacerbated by her doctors refusal to acknowledge her condition, saying she is fine in one breath, then downloading her complete care to me, with no authority in place to act for her best interests, because the lawyer filed false papers and disappeared, and a dozen year odyssey began that I have spent the last four years trying to steer my way through in understanding while continuously scoffing at the preponderance of evidence I have before me that indicates something very serious has gone on in my life, without my knowledge…and being as how I am located at the mid point between two significant points in distance, in the middle of a construct I had no idea existed…that is shaped like the elder futhark rune for Ingwaz, the Norse god who the ancient Kings of my people, claimed descent from, my people not being the people I grew up thinking I was, my anglo Saxon ancestry being one of the first pillars to fall…so here I am in this precise location, with all sorts of technology surrounding me, and I cannot get fate to show me a single direction, that does not lead back to me being someone else entirely, and I think it may just very well be a rabbitt…that’s me. Always fashionably late to the game, but nevertheless, armed to the teeth with a quick mind and a creative turn about the place…as for absorbing the many facets of fates incredible story…you will just have to wait for the book to appear.

  • (no title)
    Can you see the guy in the centre of the photograph? This is one of the fey, following me as I explore an abandoned town called Oceans falls, on the central West coast of British Columbia. It is the western entrance to the Highway on top of the world…
  • Monday, sometime after dawn, but before…

    Today’s affirmations and vows will be brought to you by my future sponsorship and endorsement deal London Pride, because I drank my last Guinness yesterday and feel I need some healthy Carbs for breakfast..sacrilege I know, but it is either that or a fired egg butty, because I tuned out my doctors sometime ago and am healthier by far for the switch.

    Today I affirm that I will have a look and see if this site is one? Two? Published? Opening soon? Private or visible, am not too sure of any of it, but am sure the site is populating with intended content, and is posting to the Facebook market tavern; which is being tended by the white Rabbitt in lieu of you ever getting any of this out to my adoring public who do not know me from Adam but positivity is the key and outlandish statements in support of outlandish ideas is the sort of mind I would like to be.

    Fate has dished out a doozy, eastern philosophizing the whole time, while she over drank the bar and ran up a tab a mile long; but she is always timely with her debts and never lets it raise too high, the future was her play last night, and I watched it unfold like it was a science fiction movie, big budget and out of sight.

    It requires, hard work and dedication, focus and a zen like attitude; but for the future she laid out before me, I think it worth the effort to guide myself directly into that path and embrace the knowledge that fate decreed it so, have some compassion for yourself, and let the universe flow.

    Starting as soon as I finish petting the cat, and why won’t this blog post let me post a feel good image to go along with my feel good Monday morning to make up for having my jeep stolen: it was the universes opposite and proportional response to me launching this website at 3:00 am half built but ready to go.

  • Friday Morning

    So this day, I try something more definite than my references to otherworldly gates, ruins and invisible folk. Today I try with a photo from my front yard, taken yesterday. I shall post three, one of the mountain and two of close ups. In the close ups…can you see the face, the two dogs and the Greek warrior carved and overgrown with tiny cumholts (stunted pine found at higher elevation).

    I know it’s really faint, but below the dogs is the shape of a diamond in the trees. From my physically present view, the diamond is pretty prevalent. It has trails running into it from four different directions. Like a medieval fortified village, or what the remains look like today, raised earthworks surrounding a square where roads meet.

    At the crossroads of: the bleeding edge of reality; beside the paths of the dead, to King Solomons Mines, on The Highway on Top of The World, To the Kingdom of Prester John, in the lands in the East, at the Market Tavern, Back when Tigers used to Smoke; hallucinating ancient Gods, bound at the Gates of Dawn, hallucinating the Fey, digging for diamonds and gold.
    Soldier is far right, dogs central, large face in the centre, faces and images to the left.
    Soldier to the far right, faint diamond central lower part of the mountain, dogs above. Zoom in and look around


    Man & Dog

    What do you think it is? Random images? Burned out Surveyors from the past, making their time here more enjoyable? Prior to 1969; according to local history and the public record, there was nothing here but the entrance to the Wilderness park and a few indigenous families. Prior to the 1909 Survey no official Canadian govt position had ever been to this place…they returned in 1919, 1934, 1955 and began operations in the area in the 1960,’s with the town for,ing in 1969…and nowhere is there any records of tetra glyphs are the many other oddities in the region…many! It is amazing what you can find sitting in the public record, quietly displacing the known history and layering another in its place. Our common held beliefs here, also fail to capture the speed skater…I will let you figure that one out further on.

    Face amidst a menagerie

    I am working on entering these into the ND world photo contest, which presents a Saturday afternoon conundrum that has interrupted my crypto currency studies and stalled the juggernaut that is my weekend production performance, so far batting nil and overthinking, which sequence of photos is the way to go…and why did I put the Picfair website on the ND Profile and this site on the Global photo awards when their respective, for sale, associative images are published vice versa, with my rock trolls on Picfair (or slated in that storyboard) and this site is a dedicated blog to my imaginary belief that the mountains that surround my home are riddled with terraforming where none has been reputed to happen. And this site is also dedicated to artistic renderings, the picfair site is photographic scenes put forth by The Fey, this site, to efforts to display them in an abstract perspective and neither linked to my NFT efforts because I just do not know how to do it…yet. The NFT theme is psychomancy, which displays both themes in a dark vs light fashion, there being two distinct identities publishing on two different platforms (at least I think so…am building a workflow, or publication line…the fey are very particular in the direction they want their formal introduction to the world to take…(myself, I am more of a mind to slam it all out there because I feel I am under the gun as far as doing anything to protect the region, it’s wildlife and natural habitats as well as the (what is obvious to me) remains of what looks like a lost civilization ( the ruins, my inspiration for civilization and a gateway to the underworld is first sequence) habitats (the nesting rock trolls sequence sequence after interlude shots of preliminary introduction to these photos, that have digital fine arts associated to them, that should lead (but doesn’t yet) to the NFT collections Hallucinations of The Fey ( by Whiterabbitt and the Hallucinations (I think, maybe something else, have lost track, will re edit the next time I remember) by Adversarius from which there should be from beginning to end a sliding scale of polarity following different perspectives on the same overriding theme, captured in my little tag poem attached to all the Picfair photos and applied to the and referencing the myriad of different storylines that I have used to create my personal interpretation of what the images on this mountain contain in their origin.

    Have done all of this for two overriding purposes the second I shall mention and the primary, I keep to my prayers for the time being…but involve my daughter, and what I would like to say to her and what I think we should do for a nice holiday, because time has been kind to neither of us and we deserve better than the lot that exists between us. Oh, so I blurted it out anyways…so be it, for my daughter in all things.

    The second reason is because the fifteen minutes I spent on a webinar pushing a PTSD treatment package complete with side hustlers, like I was playing the shell game on a street in Copenhagen, combining to provide a slick delivery, timed right to the minute…and I thought to myself…if you are going to get a publisher for your book…you are going to need an agent, and for that you are going to need to hook one with a query letter like no other. And associated with that comes the need to have an online presence in order to show how willing you are to plug your own intellectual property, and the reach you can possibly have, it shows the quality of your writing, I think, spending all of your time on social media rather than on the story itself but that is necessary, it gives you time to reflect on your novel and decide whether it follows the structure you envision which is when you discover you have an awful lot of content to edit, and really need to get professionals involved instead of self publication…because you personally think your first novel nails it so completely, you are probably need to get as much attention on it as possible…possibly for the need to have funds and insurance in place to defend against the lawsuits it generates (still editing, no worries…all references to reality are being lost).

    So faced with this in my minds eye, sometime in March of 2020 if I remember correctly, I resolved to Create my own program for dealing with the pervasive symptoms of PTSD because I sure as hell could not afford the three grand for a course whose form I discerned in the introduction to the same structure a diet is built around. I also resolved to spend some time churning out diet plans, they seemed to make good money. I believe it was March 15 or 16, night during…I began creative writing to drag the trauma out of my lambic system where it resolved to just constantly repeat its emotional memory of the event, like it happened yesterday, but had been a dozen years previous, and relive and reinvent the trauma in a situation that I could control, instead of being the powerless in receipt of, that had been the experience at the time. It led to this point. That of needing a platform and content in which to pave the way to getting the story that emerged from me published in a major way…and this brought about my need to reveal the secrets all about me, that I keep to myself due to their incredible nature.

    The mountains, I have watched the sun carve these images for 20 years, though I admit to being blind as to the reality of them until I committed to reestablishing contact and a relationship with my daughter as the primary motivation to my strategy, and synchronicity reared it’s head once again and common sense took over. Or rather, my over the top personality took over.

    This part is for any potential agent wondering what exactly I am talking about, especially if you are viewing this. I do, indeed, believe I have publishing gold in my hands…quite a bit of it if truth be told…and in my efforts to land agency and publishers of note, I have gone to the extreme and devoted the last few months (instead of editing) to prepare this strategy to generate interest in the story and build a base from which to disseminate it as best as am able, constrained within the realms of budgetary realities called shoestring independent, but built to get as much possible play out of the theme, to the point of flogging it to death, potentially for eternity…or so long as it generates enough revenue to pay for itself.

    There is for the sale of photos that work within the themes of fairytales and lost civilizations

    There is for fine arts, themed around Fairytales and photos and blog of a lost civilization I am bringing to the world in order to get publicity to plug the novel you, the agent, are going to love.

    There are NFTs on and that explore the themes of psychomancy, the Fey and the darker sliding scale of being on the bleeding edge of reality, another disclosure I make in my efforts to raise awareness towards potentially buying the novel I keep repetitively mentioning in a low grade subversive message construct to subliminally encourage people to buy the NFTs and photos ahead of the publication that will make them iconic first pictures displayed of a lost civilization and the Fey…in keeping with the subject matter explored in the novel, that I must admit is either two or twice the size for a debut, and that is after cutting so much I thought I almost lost the thread, but pulled it back with some intervention by peoples who are imaginary but yet have form and figure in my photography which begins to bring the association with quantum mechanics and the odds of having the universe provide me with so much content to utilize to get this story to the show, am humbled (not so much) or rather overwhelmed by the requirements to display in so many mediums…but the fey…they do not want a repeat of the two girls…they feel sorrow for the way they were treated…and part of my agreement is to physically prove that photo is authentic and society owes a huge apology for hounding them their entire lives to the point they were disavowing true memories of true happenings in their lives, to which I wholeheartedly agree, care not a whit what people think is real or false, and have a deep affinity for storylines being the truth or being something perceived, from a personally experienced direction…that adds a twist to the novel that makes it the most terrifying fairytale one person can imagine collaborating with the fey, who have final say on post production, and want their every aspect on display. No false facing from them, it’s a doubled sided coin at the very least.

    The Fey…I have no explanation for them…not really…except my photographic evidence of them date back to my backpacking through Scotland in 1996. Which makes my fantasy element of the novel, unnerving to me in the extreme. I just noticed the fey in one of my photos the other day, as this story just keeps unfolding in front of me with revelations everyday, and the conflict between the light and darkness, that is the price I have paid…to see the world from this perspective, to see our visible spectrum in another light.

    Outlying Perimeter
    Glencoe June, 1996
    Glencoe photo close up from 1996, see the dragon in the tree?
  • This is a crappy page, what happened to the other one…aaarrrggg…and the photos wtf…this is frustrating, especially with chaos helping
    This page did not turn out the way I had wanted, none of them have, because of quantum. Spell it right mr singularity, you should know better by now how to predict which letter I am going to misss or misspell as I plonk away on the keyboard; that is the test is it not…to predict the chaos theory down to the line, get one side of the empty string to have a calculable physical avatar to use as an anchor in time and space, by which to…what, by which to what?
         Fate cheats: she would not look at it that way, being as the use of all things within your realms of perspective and control but she is cheating nonetheless, desperate to keep ahead of the whiterabbitt and his family of protective divinity Loki and his merry band of Norse reprobates out for a Friday night gallivant and prepared to wreak mayhem and destruction upon any who oppose this demigod rabbitt as he prepares the way for the greatest story ever told, not that one, this one, this is the greatest one, nay the white rabbitt, with his cunning wit and sly humour has but to snap his fingers, thus! And the tavern is spotless, all issues mucked up, to await the next time fate tries to stiff the rabbitt with his bill and resorts to scrubbing the rabbitts mind for dregs and pieces of shadowy detritus of memories preferred long forgotten, in return for demand8ng non stop attention to detail by which this rabbitt will defy all odds and emerge triumphant across the field, his Adversarius dropping in a failed lump at his feet, neck outstretched in supplication, begging for absolution and a release from wicked ways of the past to which forgiveness must be in equal measure to the loaded weight you used to calculate the karmic debt earned on my soul…I guess this is what the true cost of kill8ng a queen really is…and they are serious when they say an ant is equal to a man…so let’s see that in action in its state, and treat me higher than the level of bottom t9 whic( I have been afforded, rather provide for a more comf9rtable level of freedoms and releases in the construct you have entrapped my mind in,….
  • Ancient Gods
  • Wodensdaugh eve before 4/20/22 \2 +2 at Ellipsoidal 0.0 15.51 declination: The threshold at the Gates of…
  • Glencoe June, 1996
  • The Sunday Reader

    I have sent a lament to the support staff at WordPress begging for their aid during this time of mounting confusion, although maybe starting to come together, in a haphazard fashion.

    There is a plethora of things to do, to link them all together, and populate with decent content, that will keep people amused for a time before they feel their purses grow heavy, and tip the publican at the bar, by buying one of his pieces for sale. Monies to a good cause of course, frivolous spending, on things that will make more things that I will publish for general consumption by the masses, who are starved for something fresh and new, so thought about it and came up with this idea, in an effort to improve moral, because there is more to our world that meets the eye, and we should embrace it. I do worry, however, that the response will be typical to my region…shoot, bury it and do not ask questions.

    I have six pages for this site but none that connect to the other, although I did manage to link Facebook, LinkedIn, and twitter, which is something good for today, although would like some more movement forward, on the shop parts of this display. There are three, maybe more, I am not certain, there is a site I paid for, where I cannot get the check out working, but it is armed and ready, so maybe it will join the party also.

    I have published my first run of NFTs to the blockchain, they are good but we’re practice to understand the process, I have another run prepared that will be significantly more involved than The Rams Cross appears.

    I have edited a couple of short stories to add to my vocal platform. There is a running theme there also, but it does seem kind of grim, no matter that they are meant to amuse and were exercises. After all, the reason behind this is to set up a profile for me to push my awesome novel, that I am stalled in editing, because my computer rearranged the files, and I think the new layout may be a better storyline to follow. That book is rather large for a first timer, so I may cut it severely, and keep good parts for a sequel, rather than let the editors get them. ooohhhh, Am jumping the gun here…missed a whole bunch of steps, and revealed the plot of the story, long before it gestates and promulgates all over the internet. Because I firmly believe that I nailed it to the wall, with my collection of fairytales, which will provide a counterpoint to this production, should the story ever see the light of the long day.

    I also have a photography site, on the pic fair app. All it needs is photos for sale, of which I am currently imagining will be easy to do, when I have managed to hire a computer genius, who can push the buttons for me, as I am just an idea man, the global picture that is me…honest…ai know what ai am doing, ai am blessed with the Knowing.

  • A Sunday Morning

    And already deviating from my program, but did not remember that a blog reminder was going to go off, forcing my brain down a different path, into the making stuff up zone, as opposed to the doing chores and taxes zone; which just goes to show you how strong my mental will is, that chores enamor me to the point of doing anything but…down to staring at the wall, wondering where todays events will take me; because I see the walls swirling and this morning drums were beating on the other side of the boundary that separates dimensional space between this realm and the one that has brushed up against mine, in a teeming display of ideas and muse driven inspiration as the fey all line up to audition for the show, none of them untouched by the thought of celebrity and fame, and to a one, have stage fright, that is difficult to tame and manifests in glitches to the system, static discharges from the ether, and tendrils of plasma expectorating from their mouths.

    Luckily for them, I am clueless to the machinations of celebrity and fame and think their fear is unfounded and pretty lame, considering the multi year effort they have gone to develop the storylines to go with their debut and have choreographed every moment the dance makes. They should be primed and ready to go, unless they are afraid of me, my motivations for the display, to which I answer every time…creativity and it’s uncontrolled aspects are friends of mine, honest transactions are my lifelong ideological frame of mind and it is based on experiencing quite the opposite throughout my life, where I think therein the problem lies. The shadow cast by the darker aspects of the fey, weighs heavily upon my soul, and peppers each tale I tell in my competition with fate, to which the scoreboard reads, the white rabbitt, nil…fate all points awarded…she can flummox me in a single breath, no matter how many muses have spiked my drink…to even conceive of the story she has told, beggars my belief system and leaves me shivering and cold…

    Luckily, most of this is just play, everyone involved knows that both light and shadow have equal billing, just so long as I make sure not to let the dark lord pass, he remains in his prison at the gates of dawn, one step away from the boundary, bound there waiting for…

    So, things are looking up in my little endeavor. I managed to get my entries off for the global photo awards, as part of my plan to gain fame and draw people to this site, and others where they shall peruse of my dalliance, hallucinating the fey, here at the market tavern, at the bleeding edge of reality, on the paths of the dead, at King Solomon’s mines, on the highway on top of the world, in the Kingdom of Prester John, where the sun rises in the east, back when tigers used to smoke…almost got it…

    One site linked, and functioning properly, with the ability to add in unlimited links to other places. So last night I populated it, with 8 photographs, alongside 3 into entries…and then I put an NFT up for auction, that links to this site, and is, by virtue of being me…linked to 192 other NFTs for sale, that can be tracked through the tags I am placing in every product I am posting, so hopefully another avenue has been connect to be exploited in my dual, nay tri, nay quarto product lines, in that they follow different paths to the same theme.

    And all of my efforts are directly leading to one overriding plan…I think I may have overdone it but I wrote a book I am really proud of, and wish to score publication from a reputable house, achieved through the proper agent, whom are very busy, I know.

    So I joined a free webinar, on how to get an agent who will sell your book to the right people. It talked about a query letter, one that needs to capture attention, and it also talked about your own platform, the efforts you have undergone to build a place where your book can receive some attention in an online place. That was fifteen minutes well spent, to bad I cannot remember whose webinar it was, or else I would plug her right now. So I took that information and thought, how can you do this, so that you give, not only the impression of enthusiastic efforts to bring attention to your work, but to do so in such a way as to generate enough attention to look like this came so easy that there must be some sort of ulterior, professional hand, guiding this.

    I came up with a plan, and this page is one of the results of putting my strategy in action, so just remember, if you read this of course, that I literally am using this entire display, to try and get a book published…no matter what anyone says, and don’t let the for sale items move you…the photographs, NFTs, short stories and videos, are the ammunition I am using to say…look at my book, it may be a debut but I think it really may have nailed it in terms of entertainment…hope so, have spent a ton of time preparing it, am agonizing over place and thought nothing at all, of starting a new business, resurrecting a corporation, taking on a completely new direction, and organizing a marketing campaign into a capital gains deduction. It has gotten out of hand, if I didn’t want an agent and publishing house so much, I would go the route of self publishing, just so I could control the entire thing. And retain autonomy from editors and corporate censors because their may be a few little spots in my book, that could be viewed as controversial, or maybe not…general public opinion supports some of the novels attestations…enough time to get to work, land titles here I come because there is nothing more satisfying than discovering an instrument or registration that you did not know existed…on your own home and property, not in the twenty years have lived here, many of them in the real estate industry…sooooo blind to mine own, but still educated to recognize the signs and identifiers. The white rabbitt may be fashionably late to the game but when he arrives, his mind is armed to the teeth and ready to square off against fate, throwing destiny into the pot with a vide ante and a grin, one of these days, the market tavern will serve drinks.

  • So it is Official

    Hero cookie to me, for finally seeing the problems that face me in this daunting task of becoming technologically compliant with smart technology. Have discovered the dilemma, and am eager this Saturday morning to address the issue that face my sites, the shops in particular.

    In no particular order: The picfair site is up and running, transactions able to be completed. Have uploaded five test images, one was given a commercial license, yay for me, but make sure not to post all the money shots at once, you are trying to tell the story of a journey, because when I looked at the photo list in its entirety from new phone to day, it wrote a story that made me cry, so am attempting to display it for discerning customers who may puzzle out its direction. This is site #1.

    Site #2 is my primary hub, the spot from which visitors will be able to connect to all of the various pages and blogs and rants that pepper them, which range from funny, to downright disturbing if their content is read for the value of its subjects, there is part of me that has a bone to pick, not with people so much as a bitter experience with process at its most fundamentally flawed and feel this gives me the right to expound at length on certain matters that could be perceived as a political ideology. This is not good for business, business is about the Fey. And this is about something to celebrate, an idea that could grow into something else; especially if my secrets get let out to play: as is the purpose of this site: which is both a blog and a store and therein lies the problem: the blog is posting to the store, so my story is for sale, post by post, instead of downloadable images from the bleeding edge of reality…this is because I haven’t set up the pages properly and may need to scrap and start again.

    The third site is my Wix page and there, I had planned to drop the whole thing because none of its instructions match any of the tabs offered so believe that the instructions are from a different version of the site, and when I try to get on through the desktop…my security goes off pretty quick…tells me the certificate is too long and the page is under threat…so this will be solved by erasing and calling it a day, because I have been hacked before and do not want another display…it tore apart my identity and my businesses and destroyed my records and accounts in the process of bulldozing me…and appears to have been personal…boy do divorces ever get nasty…just kidding, but that’s who I thought when it hit at the time, a virus dumped in by an ex having some malicious fun…even tried to confront her on it…but it was not so…why would it have been…the hack came right at the same time…except it had been in the system years.. so no security issue pages especially ones that instruct you to pull down the tab beside the edit button and choose art store and then choose downloadable product…when there is no button next to the edit button, there is no edit button displayed for about 4 images and that is to update your profile…but not your public profile, that you only get to fill in once, mistakes permanently etched into your store like nobodies business. I will save this site if something presents itself to the effect that my incompetence can be alleviated and this page can be made to work.

    That is 3 different shop sites, all for selling photographs, one would suffice one would think, as he thinks of other sites to add…am looking for communities you see, each of these shops is based around a community and the community creates users…am after the users…all of them, because am trying to reach as many people as possible, for attaining a prize awarded by myself to myself for getting as many hits as possible, my goal…is to try an beat Morgan Spurlock…that would be really something…his film is my favourite…”The greatest movie ever sold,” and definitely inspiration for this little insanity project.

    Each store as links in it to connect to other sites. There is short story platform #1, short story platform #2 is in the works…looking for something that accepts swearing…have a story with a salty tongue (me…never!) that fails in its intent with the removal of the two swear words…there are more but there are two sticky ones…I think they tie the story together…and have a bunch of dark stories would like to see have time in the limelight, even if they are practicing for the big show, some of them are still pretty good.

    There are the NFTs which make up part of this display. On the blockchain they are, in their own world…and of course…on multiple different platforms, some anonymous, some trapped, and some actually posted properly…this is because when minting an NFT, you have one shot, mistakes are left in…honestly have a masterpiece of the gesalt principle floundering under unknown name and untitled collection…am sad, it is the image that gave me the confidence to say that what I was doing was art, it’s a one of a kind, one edition minted…hopefully discovered one day. There are around 25 of those and growing, a set with ten editions each, a set with nine and a planned auction to display others one at a time. They are tied to my Crypto currency exchange, paid for by coins, Ethreum in particular, and not cheap when you consider the shoestring budget I am on, trying to bring this all together to look and feel as big as possible for the simple reason being…the tax man is going to ask questions called proper business filings and in my eagerness I have utilized a corporation and a sole proprietorship running the corporation to provide assets management and financial services to the owners of the intellectual property I am flogging, the owners being the owners of the proprietorship and the shareholders of the corporation exist to manage it…it is awesome, completely legal and aligning me with my true potential…as I have been CEO of the Corporation since 2008. Lost the businesses I ran due to vagaries that can be found being alluded to in my rant page on Facebook, which is not my store page but posts to both. There has been much deleting…but then I paused. Honesty is part of this presentation…because it is purely based on fantasy…this creates a question in your head…the point I may add…because I am trying to make my potential customers think…that maybe there is something to what I am saying, that goes beyond normal daily activity and taps into the creativity that exists in a room in your mind…and by the looks of the world…is something we need to dust off and engage pretty rapidly…story unfolds within.

    There are also instagram pages, discord, and Snapchat working, all geared towards drawing people in with witty charm and self depreciating humour…which should smooth the chaos of some of my posts, some but not all. I let the words run when they come and the subject matter is decided someplace in my mind where I do not have access, not first thing in the morning anyways.

    Wish me luck, it is the weekend, time to not be interrupted by that terrible affliction called work…of which I do only part time now, sort of, this full time engagement is not work to me. This is a project, something entirely different, and purely for a sense of accomplishment…need a victory, it’s been a rough couple of decades.

  • Success

    It’s minus 13 C out this morning. April whatever, sometime in the morning, 2022 according to either the Julian calendar or the gregorian (soooo, either my spellcheck does not know the word gregorian or I am spelling it wrong; or using it entirely inappropriately…this is due to a lack of caffeine. What I was trying to say is that I can never remember which calendar is which when making reference to time and date. There is a lot of confusion there, in my scattered opinion, that are covering up something sinister with the sinister being that none of them are correct, to the tiniest fraction of the tiniest fraction to the point where time can be caught a lassoed so that we can truly figure out how to ring in the new year properly in order to stave off the imminent destruction of the world…oh man, gonna be late for work…4th time this week…am going for a record: so if we calculate time to its precise location we unlock the prison door to Pandora’s box…if we already did not do that with our favourite toy in the world…the super collider…which am sure could be used to calculate the time necessary to open wormhole gates that could be anchored into other worlds or even the vacuum of space…which is why the Sahara dessert exists. It was not goats over grazing and poor agrarian technique…it was blow back from opening a gate at the great pyramid…in order to connect with the gods…this is why mainstream archeology and history will not tell you the truth…they are afraid of the implications for the application of AI and smart technology to the technologies of the ancients because it would be like TNT all over again and we would pour out into the galaxy like locusts, hunting for gold and diamonds and whatever resource we could exploit…and our neighbours would not appreciate that too much…so they would start up the old engine on the starship that is 1300 times the size of Jupiter and cruise off to check these nuclear bomb wielding weirdos out…and they would park in the Oort Cloud to watch us for a while….Then what would they do…we have a data signal full of radiation from nuclear bombs, porn, war, and obsession with wealth…they would think the m.

  • Smoking Tigers Header
  • Too early to tell but something is definitely off on these here alleys and reality
  • Sleeping Giants
    Really hoping you can see the giants face sleeping in the wall of my may or may not be an underground entrance way into the underworld, where creatures dwell, who only come out when they are sure no one is about. The more time spent staring at these, the more convinced my unconscious becomes, at accepting that there is such a possibility as to their being a lost civilization buried right around here. Plenty will scoff, of that to be sure, especially the locals who live in this place, high up on a plateau along the eastern slopes, of the Rocky Mountains that split the continent in two, along a divide that is not too far from my home which has a pretty spectacular view, at least In regards to forests, the taiga and the rock peaks that can stretch away into nothing but dim blue lines on the horizon, and abut up so close, you can watch the sun slowly move across their features, revealing a story that is their to be interpreted, as one sees fit, in my humble opinion, I found these little gems and mysteries, they can be whatever y like, there is no harm in guessing and thinking outside of the box…it gets the creative juices flowing and really helps pass the time in winter, when it is cold, and dark and not nearly so blue and bright as I remember.
  • Monday Morning T minus 30 days and counting

    Should really stop freaking out about my schedule. It is not really necessary, there is plenty of time to work the kinks out, so am going to play with crypto currency, of which this site, will accept solans; which y think is cool. No idea why but that stuff captured my imagination just like everything around me here did, it is like looking through a different set of sunglasses to be sure, not a day goes by that….shhh kitty, be quiet, you wanted outside, not my fault it’s minus 5…where was I, oh…dripping with goo I see. Needs must take over and change the witty repartee. Crypto currency is all well and good but the real wealth lays in having your day go smoothly, productively and for your own profit. Those 2 1/2 years I spent with a boss, really sucked as bad as can be; not that it really bothers me, but why let someone else judge your value and what parts of you earn and when. Would much rather play with my hallucinations, sell them here and…on crypto blockchain marketplaces because that is also cool, a place for artists to sell their work and it is built in that any future sales include a commission for the artist, so instead of starving while your work appreciates in value, you can keep a piece of it for yourself, intellectual property. Betcha Van Gogh would have appreciated that, at least the irony of seeing his commissions make millions, hundreds of years after kicking it dead. Y worry that this, too, is my fate; to merely make masterpieces for future generations…centuries away, will appreciate the vintage look that they display and after such a very long time, they will pay the equivalent of a dime, inflation really blows but what can you say…a million dollars will be just enough one day, to go out for a meal, maybe catch a flick, but we will walk, it costs ten thousand a click.

    What Y meant to be actually speaking about was the definitely, maybe requirement for me to publish all the stuff I have already gotz, but the list is quite long and some are still not ready, and y found another site for short stories. Between them, the pictures and my silly cunning plan alpha, that is coming along quite nicely, oh yes…now remember…it appears this site is mixed up quite a bit and posting my blogs to the store page wherein works of fantastic origin are won’t to be displayed…so after the whole weekend spent fiddling, got one up and running, y think it is in England. One down, two almost ready, then…then look for the sign that ai am ready…hopefully it is not an asteroid smacking into…booted void, that’s no way to talk, not on Monday, five minutes before you have to go to work, because the exercise you lazy git, you need the exercise, you haven’t moved in two days.

  • Oh what a life!

    In the ho hum drum way that life plods on, data after data transactions, capturing the record of your day. Would that my life were exciting, would that my websites were working, would that I could get out of bed and go get ready for work, would that, instead I shall start blogging, because it is Friday morning and heaven forbid I show up on time, that would ruin a record you have been setting since you decided life was more about not working with the highest mentality of driven production, but rather should just go &&@( itself, and why not…it’s not like almost killing yourself settling other peoples matters got you anything but heartache and financial matters that really get irritating some days; but not enough for me to care about working for someone else’s version of what my life will entail. My fate decreed long ago, that would not be the trodden path followed. Still, that does not mean, my time is not committed…to this project of yours that makes absolutely no academic sense by association but you reckon you can use the structure, plan and actions undertaken to justify going for credits for an MBA application, to which one friendly place is more than willing to give credit…I hope they have underwater basket weaving too! And Sanskrit, it is vitally important to the worlds economic systems that I learn Sanskrit, the very fabric of time and space is at risk, because have tracked that little bugger back in time and he has hidden in Ancient India, where yogis are want to make their homes, and wandering gods eating bird droppings for breakfast, definitely a sea of swirling potential, for me to discover the oldest story ever known, and thus defeat the beast that has ensorcelled me, by learning of its name: which coincides with so many dark events in history, that this white Rabbitt is sometimes just grateful for his little home in the mountains where the fey come for tea and tigers like to smoke by the riverside and watch the dead float by; this is the Market Tavern; did you think we would have a mundane day. It is battle Royal against a Korred from the Isle of Man, who travelled their from high mountains, through the twigs as they run the breadth of the Northern World, and he says he wants the King of Scotland and Russia in his basket of skulls. Ah me, the legacy of my life; I am the King of the Britons, somebody get it right. This is why I am hidden away up here in the frozen frontiers of towering mountains where dawn kisses the sky, if you were an ancient Egyptian, that is.

  • One part off to the races!

    Oh, am cooking with charcoal now. Listed an NFT for auction, of course none of this is tied to the marketplace, am pretty sure this page is private and only blogs are showing up; but nevertheless, have managed to actually get one of these magnificent works of art actually published…for sale…for three dollars. And I bet it reaches the fame of Wharhols tomato soup can…cause yeah, am that good…right dude, you’re a maestro. Sheesh, you gotta stop doing this in the middle of the night…rest a little. Maybe one of these sites will work…if you just stop using the random button press as your structural strategy. Next up…photo contest.

  • Shamelessly joining sites to exploit potential connectivity with just the right people: everyone.
    Add me on so we can talk! My username is White Rabbitts#0548.
  • Captains Log

    Stardate: pour me another Guinness, It’s lunch time, so let’s go.

    Just kidding, I am an older gentleman, and not one to drink so early in the day, unless I am sure the water is contaminated and then it is straight to the brewery; beer having saved countless lives over the centuries, protecting its imbibers from mother natures finest; the very nectar we are dependent on for the maintenance of our bio wet wired organic sacs that we use to cart around our consciousness. Yes beer is where it is at, as long as it is in moderation. Myself I need just one to fulfill that empty stomach craving, but at least seven or eight if I want to feel it’s effects, which is why after one this publican switches to rum to lubricate his vocal chords to prepare for the next bout. The editing has fallen by the wayside in his current story and he is flagging, trying to make it all fit…inside the timeline he has created for himself, making fate laugh a little at his strategic planning that he believes will clinch him victory in their tête-à-tête (how come it spells it and incorrectly too? My word processor program is smarter than me, I a, sure he at least thinks so), oooh that burned, aniseed that is, but it fortifies my wavering soul in the face of the score between the white rabbitt and fate. Me being both the white rabbitt and the one keeping score and it is fate ahead by a large margin, she has won every game so far, and is coming tantalizingly close to giving out the first tale ever told, just to see the white rabbitt squirm because she has not had so much fun in many, many years. And a year by fates standards is anything but understandable except to say the difference is: the span of man’s entire life is equal to one day! So fate stepped out for a cigarette one day for a quick break and now she is back and ready to play..

    And 300 lifetimes of humans have come and gone. The playing board is generally the same but the items presented have changed, much to;the knowing intelligence of the god across from me, and the terrifying;g thought that overrides my general good disposition, is; “that this enterprise I am undertaking, is far more difficult a task than I appreciate I am maki;g my little each day headway that is a never ending source of frustration, here, let me finally begin…

    With an exhaustive list of things to do before the curtain lifts, in 3 or 4 days behind the posting of your posts indicating you would be open for action in a few days.

    I mean, I could just put off the publishing of the initial posts, except why? Why not just go with it and see what you can do. Except…

    Except there will always be a reason to put off doing something new, just because it is part of the chemical equation of your bodies cocktail of emotional instability called your nervous system. Except…

    Quit it man, you should know by now causality is more than fiction. You are on the bleeding edge of reality here and anything at all goes in the minds creation. If you think it, it gains form on this universal boundary and like you figured out in the novel you wrote, quantum mechanics does not occur far off in someplace like Bootes Void, it occurs right next to you, and in your perception…why not, it is your thoughts that gave rise to its creation, be proud of your mind and its imagination. In there, in the construct that is your brain, there is a collection of stories that traverse everything you have ever thought or read, or seen on a screen in both the room in front of your eyes and the office in your head. The mind is an operating system billions of times more complicated than the largest and smartest AI technology that piling transistors together offers, and it is a machine that processes based on algorithms created by the impressions of the stimuli your senses perceive as you go about your business. Have you ever wondered how you can see six different perceived depth locations in clear focus at the same time. Try it the next time you are in a drivers seat. Look at the middle distance, then relax and without moving your eyes, look at the side mirror, then the other, then the rear view and the. Relax and view the curb as it passes by, and the signposts on the streets, just look for color in your eye…it is something I tell you, headache inducing, but it begs the question of…what else can a mind and a body do, if it works outside of it’s learned behaviors and how is it so advanced technologically beyond anything recorded by human experience outside of the capturing of the imagination in literature and records keeping, the written language, the substitute man created for becoming lazy and for putting memorization down on the list, in favour of survival.

    All of that just to complain about your work on your Uber secret plan alpha that you scrapped today for a while in favor of self pitying anger at the injustice in the worlds system because you are running out of story ideas and they fey can look voracious, they can look like anything, they pull their for, from your mind, and all you have emotionally recorded in your DNA and that is why they appear like otherworldly figures, they are using your brains memory storage and that is what it has retained, sort of like cookies in a computer which you should probably erase, before they over load your systems and blow up all your hardware, before you have ever unveiled a single one of the Fey, doing fey things in this world that contains within it, a world and a world and a world.

    Fifty…that is the number that has so stalled me. I must do groups of fifty things yet in three different locations, in like 3 days or so.

    I really hope tomorrow I have the necessary focus to undertake the capture of my groups of fifty, as each one is completed, launch it and gather them together here, after all that is done.

  • Sleeping Giants
    Look from west to east, carefully,along the ridge line and divide the picture in thirds. This is supposed to go on the e-commerce site. See if you can move it over. It would make a good debut too, except the doggy steals the show. But look at it, look all over, the entire mountain has been graphically designed. Find that in your back yard one day, and think…”oh my God.” Get this working properly today, the excitement is building, you even sent it to a friend, now there are three total who know in the entire world…that history is about to receive a lesson plan and send us back to school Yes, and two plus months later you still can’t get anything verified, and your mountain is unnoticeable to the locals, who call you names and think your are crazy, when it is plain to see…or was, the trees have turned green with new leaves and the faces have merged back into the mountain itself, but did it ever leave an impression on me…one that I am still trying to get a grasp on, but involves my personal history to a degree I never thought possible…now if only my accounts would cooperate, my accountants would relinquish access to mine own property, and my banks would stop with their insanity…it’s not like I don’t know they’re in here…and I am coming to the conclusion that they do not mean me harm, even though every account is frozen, inaccessible, throwing out transactions out of sequence…I laid my utilities on the first. I got new bills on the fifth…my phone package switched from unlimited data, 30 gigs at HD, to no data and fifty dollars charges for 50 mb, which you know you did not do, but they not only do not listen to you, they demand you give them private information over the phone before they will speak to you and you know the bot is attached to your name…so what do you do…I think maintain, aggressive acceptance of the situation with passive reference to the surveillance that accompanies the hack, and the subversion of all of my accounts, because who needs human rights when you have a target like me to dangle for terrorists to take a shot at. Unlikely as it sounds it would win a movie contest storyline hands down. And then there is the mountain.
  • The Impasse

    Another day has past, and the launch has been delayed. The actors in my show are getting nervous, wondering if they put their faith in the wrong person to present their fey side to the world and present themselves to the public in the most tasteful way. But the principle behind the project, is a flighty headed mortal with ideas larger than his mind, or eyes bigger than his belly, whichever fits the bill.

    My hallucinations are ready, their purchase assured at the UnSeelie bazaar, paid for in currency no bank can touch, but I must admit to some conflict arising; out of the simple proofs the fey are providing to show me they really exist in our world, as much of a physical presence as any, on the highway on top of the world.

    It is the presence of that ancient trail that has so unbalanced me, from the calm acceptance of magic being as real as you and me. Then along came a thousand foot tall doggy, carved into a mountainside, and I feel my natural photography is taking front and centre stage.

    Naturally, the queen has become somewhat perturbed. She has put forth her best glamour to ensorcel my mind. She is, of course, above such things as vanity but she has finally agreed to let her Fey run free, so long as they get their just presentation to the world in such a fashion as to make it abundantly clear. The world is a far more magical place than any of us ever dreamed, in our modern comfortable “superiority,” and history should get used to entertaining ideas outside of the box. It just supposes that it seems to me, an entire subject heading deserves a great deal more attention paid to it, than the old…”we do not know why the ancestors believed so, but we know religion was the major focus of their lives, because they were credulous and not near as advanced as we. It is, frankly amazing, that they were able to develop such complex science, language and navigation principles when they had no technology.

    In the opinion of the fey; they think we are a little stupid for thinking that way. Instead of saying, “we do not know how they did the things they do, try reverse engineering and say, “they did it, it looks impossible, what could possibly have aided their construction, and how come the etymology of words bear with them stark, literal truths.

    I will close with a question, or maybe two.

    Why is the meaning of the Star named Mintaka, accurate beam scale?

    I do not know the answer to that, but I do have a hint to send you on your way down the rabbitt hole, and that is the space anomaly between us and that star, that returns two different distance values based on light speed. That anomaly is light years distant but it seems to me, the ancients knew it was there and used it to measure something accurately…what? Who knows but; the great pyramid is located tap dead centre of the worlds landmass, it’s coordinates add up to the speed of light and it is centred on Mintaka, as are most of the remaining structures from the time before time was recorded.

    Personally, I think gravitational lensing lending its principles to my query, measuring the most accurate distance of something, and though the Queen of the Fey assures me it’s nothing to worry about.

    Out here on the bleeding edge of reality, some of us are wondering which side of the black hole we are on.

  • The Bleeding edge daily:

    Up here on the bleeding edge of reality, we tend to be a bit scattered in our thinking, this may have to do with the collision between realms that converges, ironically, in a boundary that cuts my home in half.

    When I walk from my bedroom to my bathroom, I traverse the boundary and time goes out of focus.

    My office, I roll across the floor, one side is the earth I know, the other is populated with an alien ecosystem I have never seen. Bursting at the seams with vitality.

    I walk out the front door and everything stays nice and unremarkably normal, I walk out the back and causality takes over.

    What I see outside when I venture forth, depends on which foot I put out the door first and did I make sure to greet the sun.

    I know I cannot be in my own world anymore, this is a mirrored reflection, because I am surrounded on all sides with a world I have never imagined and I must admit, it has thrown me for a loop and the ride has been eye opening as more and more images assault me.

    I know this cannot be the earth I grew up in, there is no way I would have missed all of this in the previous decades.

    “Face it, you were blind, your eyes turned inward, focused on life’s journey through a narrowed lens of sense, and duty. You were stolidly marching against an overwhelming tide. Have compassion for yourself, very few ever get the chance to see what is truly surrounding you. Your environs are something very special…do your best to display it with Higher thinking being your choice of palette.”

    I call this place the bleeding edge of reality because it seems so impossible, yet is proving true to my perspective almost every day and I need to take action, if only to express the difference of opinion of what is seen, perceived and not seen, and what fills up the empty spaces.

  • Expanding like The Universe

    No matter how much time and effort I put into capturing my story as succinctly as possible and presenting it to the world in my own interpretation, rather than the voices of those who will come after, and especially in front of the voices of my community, I am being swept out to sea by an ever expanding list of things to do, prior to my official debut.

    I will try to capture them here, nail the task list down to something, and maybe it will stop slithering and ballooning and will let the wildness of the construct find its footing and say…” you there, the one who is producing this opus, get off your lazy butt and get these spirits a drink, it is Sunday, time for a stout…then after you whet your parched throat, it is your turn to tell a story. What did you think of the last one, it was from the leshy, it’s true, she can see into the hearts of all men and see the secrets hidden within.

    I do not think that one was for publishing at all, as far as personal goes, it encompassed most of my life and put an entirely different spin on my personal recollections, and the intersecting points were profound…it was really quite exposing and I feel somewhat nervous that that reality has a purchase in my life. It was a disquieting revelation to put it mildly. It revealed a hidden hand in all that I have done, one that can only be described as adversarial. One good thing, however, that those memories provided was some bolstering to by self respect…if those things actually went on in my life…I was one of the best businessmen you can imagine…I kept them afloat for years, in the face of an invisible conflict, that had me working from the bottom in every respect, as though the adversary was desperate to smash the very operation that was created to make my life as miserable as possible. Thank god it was just a story.

    Yes, a story it is true, and true to the story you will be, it has a place in this show, now do your list and figure out your game winning strategy, remember you are channeling Morgan Spurlock here…with no sponsorship and a budget made out of collected wealth scraped together and by providence the last asset provides the means to rise up once again, hold your head high and say…”yep, I have what it takes, with an extra tank of petrol besides.”

    So in no particular order…

    1. You have the you tube videos, faint as the images are, use the video editor first to see if you cannot create some substance and post them with your dolphins…all of them, why not? You may have discovered a bug, whatever it is does it ever act weird when you hit it with strobe lights. Well worth the watch if a little hard on the eyes, be careful to not let them overwhelm you. You have the dolphins, the alien bug, and the gateway to another dimension, those should do, and the traffic will decide by your number of views just how many other people see it, and that makes your invisible visible, and will cement the reality in your eyes. is one of the display and sales rooms. It is a very nice site, with easy to use navigation and a well set up framework for selling your digital photos…notice how that did not scan, it should have said creations, but they do not want to see your artistic receptions, front and centre pictures based firmly in reality, no adjusting and reamaking the view…no turning it to the dimension of the face, they are very shy about this you know…it is their big debut in this time and want to make the best impression, for the next site, which is for your digital creations….

    That sight is still slightly on the drawing board, stuck between scrapping one for an upgrade, and upgrade you are doing for sure, you want it to look as good as you can, yes that is going to put you behind, the number of upgrades these sites have taken, and the subscriptions signed…this needs to work, or it will be bread and water for the rest of the year, and memories of working at the top of your game, will be all that remain to you…yes this is a form of life and death struggle, the story of my life…to always be pushing the edge of my capabilities, pushing and pulling rather, right on the edge. It leads to a lot of backtracking and mistakes made, but is very exciting when you can feel a connection occurring and you tie something together, usually with something that came out of the blue, and would never have been imagined, if it were not for the constant agitation that comes from testing the very edge of your mind and listening to what it said.

    Shorter now you have things to do…this e-commerce site will be devoted to presenting your artistic creations, your creatoons, which you are inordinately proud of and thankful you decided that in your passive income idea, you would own the content lock stock and two…don’t do it, you may owe a copywriter usage…and go back and censor out all of the swearing, you are rated G remember, if a little rough around the edges.

    So videos, landscape photography (that is code for archeological discovery that will blow your #@$&)*( mind., creations and short stories. The book is not ready yet, and will not be before you enter the world photo competition and begin your countdown to convergence begins.

    Do not forget to mention, this site…it is the hub, and hopefully as slick looking as the upgrades will have you believe. You hope so, you feel an affinity for the words word and press, you are going full meal deal with them and combining it all under one umbrella so you can see it in one place.

    Can you see the trail…pretty cool. Took this in 1996
  • This is a very well written description of a regulatory body doing its job.
  • On Contract disputes

    This is not good, not in the slightest, the Queen is getting up in arms and the knights of her hunt are glaring at me from the edge of the gate where they sit, poised to launch in my direction and have at me with their dastardly terms and deadly penetrating spears of wit. The hunt is getting itself worked up into a tizzy, the rade has put dropped anchor and the entire population is diffusing into the mountains and hills, early this year but eager for the show I have been preparing, they want to see their brethren debut to the world in all their glorious fashions, scenes and prepared skits for dissemination to this mortal population, a coming out that will shake the very foundations of humankind’s belief systems. They are, in short, both nervous and excited, nervous because they worry about human reaction. Excitement because it has been a good long while since they glamoured a human into being the mortal recipient of their attention to details and their strict adherence to the rules…to which I, a weary publican, Mr W Rabbitt to those who care, must endeavour to present the best possible face I can create, to the world at large, the arrival of the realization that magic is real and we are not the only intelligence on our planet earth, that we may be the interlopers here. A rock troll told me yesterday that it is they to whom this world was constructed and they like the grass and the trees in much the same way a teenager spends all their time on clothes, it is a look they spent a long time cultivating, one they do not appreciate humankind shaving at such alarming rates as the clear cutting surrounding the amphitheatre that makes up the zone in which our story competition is being told, at the market tavern, located on a crossroads of the paths of the dead, on the highway on top of the world, at the bleeding edge of reality, where stories are real and bartered as currency which does not go very far to paying the electricity, which is ramping up quite quickly, possibly due to the little fellas who look like lightning bolts of energy who have been feeding at my outlets since they arrived.

    The stories are coming along, but am afraid they may not make it, beyond a couple of poems and shorts from early days of practicing, will endeavour to do my best, the photography tells my tale anyways, stick to it and do not worry, this is all going to work out just like one of those fairytales you keep imagining, the ones with the happy endings. Happy endings all around, the world could use something nice happening for a change and a contest between the fey and a rabbit Pretending to be a human, may just be the panacea we all are looking for. Of course, this requires an awful lot of luck in the marketing department…that’s okay the twins are up soon to tell their tale and they always have two minds of everything, opposites in complementary fashion the gestalt principle given anthropomorphic representation.

  • Working in reverse

    I am improving, I have created content and managed to get some pages ready, along with some scheduled blog posts. My automation bot (that’s me) shall go off seamlessly when I press the start button and this little project launches. I really, do not know how much time I have invested. I downloaded an app to help me with my timing. I am supposed to clock in and out and it will keep a record of my endeavours. But it keeps clocking me out, I guess that adds up to too many hours. No matter, I am having quite a bit of fun; which is what this is all about, no matter the seriousness of the subjects discussed, here at the market tavern, where fate has run up such a large tab, she may have to Lean on the keep to cover her.

    One of these days I will work up the nerve to ask her to pay off a little, but not yet, I am too nervous, the fey all smile whenever ai consider it. And a smiling fey casts glamour they say, what would I know about it, I am still trying to figure out why they like it here in the first place.

  • This keeps getting better

    So my WordPress site is all a mess, trying to get it set up nice and proper, the domain never registered, I am using an email that says it is not registered, and I am having flow and content issues. Could it get any worse than this. Yes it can, oh yes it can. My e-commerce site is a bust, you cannot buy anything off of it despite setting up everything according to instructions. My portfolio site is a mess, I have put the pics in the wrong order, and you can just download them for free, which defeats the entire purpose of this cunning plan in the first place.

    Later I tried to set up a sole proprietorship, the stupid thing glitched, after I had paid but before it was final completion which screws up the bank who needed to verify a business address, oh god can it get any worse. Yes it can. My crypto currency wallet has glitched and I think a big one…the transaction is on the blockchain, the addresses are verified and it is completed…so how come it won’t register them as existing…that really sucks because it does, but not as bad as the fact that I can’t get any currency out at all, because of the biometrics and 2fa authorization keep switching screens on me and it wants a confirmation code but I don’t know where it is sending it to, sweet Jesus everything glitches non stop…do not edit your book this evening…it is the ides of march, an Ill omened day, but is also the day I found out I was a father, it kind of makes a morbid sense, considering the dozen years in court that followed being handed my ass repeatedly by judges and lawyers who just do not care to sully themselves with something as tawdry as fathers rights, who cares about them. Well, your honor, I CARE ABOUT ME, THANKS FOR THE DEATH SENTENCE, I sure appreciate it, but that is not the point of your rant, you were talking about glitches, talk about your first NFT masterpiece that is a work of true art, to give them respectability. But I messed up, forgot a profile, did not list it for sale, just make an offer, to a wallet that will not send any currency because it is greedy and thinks all that shib is worth lots of money. It is not. One of these days I will get this sorted. And then all will be pleasantly revealed and the mass population will be galvanized to purchase my art and hopefully stories, and a novel or two. It has been a busy few years and Ali want to capitalize on the output, with the passive income generating hobby time making money is fun you will see. Not the job kind, the I am having fun kind, instead of laboring under the sun for some douchebag who steals your bonus every month, what a douchebag.

    That was twenty five years ago dude, and you’re still pissed about that bonus.

    You betcha I am, when you’re as tired as I am and bereft of words that make sense, best just to fake it and let them run amok.

  • My Skills are Wasted

    Yes, indeed they are. You, sir, should be at the forefront of cutting edge technical know how smack dab with an arsenal of software and hardware driven mechanical skills and should stop wasting your time with a paltry shop selling photographs and should, instead, ascend to working for one of the great tech giants coding stuff and raking in the dough.

    That was my interruptery daydream that is so named for interrupting my WordPress time to daydream about getting something to go right while you build your site, while you should be patiently reentering the data again, properly, and continue to search for that elusive delete and start from scratch button; that you specifically scheduled into your phone calendar so you would actually spend time following structured instructions on how to set up your sight to sell digital file downloads; but instead you regale your yet to exist audience with every hiccup you run into in some cheap by play you hope will one day prove entertaining for the salivating masses you just know are waiting to gobble up your fare.

    “Yes,” I reply calmly, “So?”

    Sooooooo, uh, I guess I should learn some technical jargon?

    “How about technical skill in the first place.”

    Sod off.

    The shop has moved forward and the anticipatory opening date of sometime in the next 45 days or so is bang on schedule. With its inclusion in my calendar it shall meld seamlessly into my schedule and the hitches and glitches will smooth out and the hobs and gobs will cooperate. This is the magic of the calendar. This also marks the first time in my entire timeline of owning cell phones;the first time I have ever used the calendar app to schedule anything. This is a major move forward on the whole project.

    I have 3 things in the calendar and they are each in eighty minute blocs starting at 2:00 pm and ending at Dinner. They repeat each day indefinitely. They are dieting, eating and eating sweets. After dinner I am thinking of adding more to the calendar but am nervous with the commitment I am already making to this project. Oh well. The more effort, the better tasting the reward.

    Except they didn’t mean starting at instruction 1 and repeating from the beginning for every step you take because you have the technical skills of a stunned rabbit.

    “Yes,…that is rabbitt with two t’s.”

  • Let there be light.

    I should be publishing this page in an orgy of marketing bliss, along with umpteen contacts and oodles of customers in a celebration of artistic achievement. Alas, am not. I am stuck fiddling with things, pressing buttons on things, trying not to swear at all the apps who are just doing there job as they were programmed to at midnight on a Friday swing shift. Things are coming along slowly, I should be ready to go right when my years subscription is up for renewal. I shall persevere, however, and probably spend more money on shiny things but the work is coming along. Soon there should be the starting inventory of digital captures of the Fey in my hallucinations collection but there is plenty coming down the pipe. Stories, photos, videos and my ever bubbly and cheerful character displayed with my posts as I cajole, wheedle, threaten, beg and even straight hustle coins from your purse into my wallet. The horde are laughing even louder at me, they are getting excited about their debut. The fey, certainly are a creative bunch.

  • In the Beginning

    In the beginning, there was difficulty in understanding the app and its many functions. As I delve deeper into its structure, the mystery deepens further. Will our intrepid hero ever manage to get his online store operational? Will he deliver stunning abstract art of the other side to a highly anticipatory public audience? Will he waste his Saturday night creating a blog post for his Blog that is not even close to the content of his online shop or its intended purpose, or frankly towards its intended audience. This is just a rant because I am getting testy over my lack of technical skills. It cannot be that hard to put together now can it. It’s abstract art. How hard can that be. Just go ask the fairy hiding behind the dragons eyebrow over by that joking Spider, they will know, or be able to guide you towards a creature that does. They also think it’s pretty funny you are having such a hard time publishing these pictures. You cannot have everything so easy now Richard, somethings must come with effort.

  • Hello World!

    Welcome to WordPress! This is your first post. Edit or delete it to take the first step in your blogging journey.

  • I Took the day off to stress.

    So I took today off from my obsessive drive to get my new email address registered so it will work and, instead, spent the day focusing on not focusing on anything. This led to beer, which is delicious when your mind is devoid of anything resembling the thought of e-mails, Mx reports and when did I have to learn to code to get one set up, and it went down refreshingly, but not as refreshingly as it could because, despite my strict adherence to believe in only secular and conforming ideological beliefs, I keep running into the same problem, over and over again and that is the feys insistence that I pay a tariff for this disbelief and test me sorely each day here at the market tavern by obnoxiously “being,” and refusing to jump back in to the stories from whence they came. They are impatient for my show to begin, yet are shy about the whole thing altogether and wonder if a broken hearts tears were enough of a price to collect in exchange for their discovery by the earthly mortal realm that exists on the Tuesday which is not to be misconstrued as a earthly Wednesday which is an entirely different kettle of fish when one counts on two hands, the number of universes that have come to call at the highways end.

• • •

So this page is giving me some difficulty: it is rather blunt, comes out of left field on the storyline, and creates an atmosphere of potential mistrust and a flashpoint…wherein the principles will shy away, because they do not wish to be tainted with the negativity in the story; well, because that’s what I think at five in the morning when I reflect in my strategy, and look at all my frozen accounts and the circling vultures and realize it is make or break time on the old storefront and stories frontline: it is Friday August The fifth and you have been trapped in stasis over this, not because of your inherently honest belief in merchantability and transactions but because you are totally being blocked in revenue and in exposure because it looks like you entrapped a pile of companies…and you did…your intent, however, was not to scare the shut out of them…even if the fish you caught was a juggernaut, no matter, the intent is the same and the end product is also the same…it’s just, well, you haven’t actually posted any of your stories, all of this has been off the cuff at the time of writing, in keeping with your notes on the subject; that you would have to keep ahead of the pack, or you would get bogged down and smothered by minutiae before you got to the finish line: and you know you’ve got this, and can win…publish the page, just make sure to name no names…and do you really want people to know about that…you’re already a big enough target…it is August 5…in 17 days it is August 23, and that is your go to…I just read the intro, leave the edit, it shows you have a shred of humanity left…but it looks pretty, do the cane next: and throw in a pic of the plate uncovered: I know, I know…but people are jaded these days, and your curses all agree, this is the way to go…okay, but…okay: I’m in: In all the shops I’ve made I’ve been stymied by the same problem: so in answer to that:

I shall be preparing a report: to publish, or use as a sort of…”so you see corporation A and small business cz, this here adventure whereby I tested so many apps, was an excellent and ultimately very inexpensive way for you to discover the inherent flaws within your structures and systems so that you can streamline and bring yourself up to the standards that, admittedly, are difficult in this climate but assuredly easier to achieve than you think, it’s all down to data processing, and contacts…

This plate Carrie’s are dark soul, and a heavy presence. Not responsible for paranormal activity occurring. And the buyer will take, “as is, where is,” and will hold the seller harmless in any event ever, that occurs in the buyers life, and the lives of their children, childrens,,children and looks great in a nice wooden cabinet with glass and maybe a mirror so the restless shades of the damned can see themselves: oh my…so, epiphanies are wonderful…a steal at only $500.00 USD or better yet;…SOLD!

If god rested on the seventh day…what did he do on the eighth…

Do you think you’re supposed to shut up about that too? No; your job is to blow this open, every side is on your side, they are waiting on you, you to work this angst out of yourself…and take it where it belongs, somewhere far away, and bury it. Because you have far more to offer than a swearing and spitting old man, wracked by injustice and dying of grief:

So…if you usethecreativepartofyourbrain when you make something, something meant to tell a story, the story can become overshadowed by the simplest of things. Mine is in this. There is a host in this pewter, handmade; French, wine cup. I got it at the Louvre sometime long ago, and it’s time here on the bleeding edge, well…it looks an awful lot like my upcoming coin collection, that may or may not make it into…it will, this is the haunted page: so a reasonable $500.00USD for the purchase, European, haunted by Europeans, and they are a pretty lively bunch…again: not responsible for any paranormal activity and the buyer shall hold the vendor harmless in perpetuity, so long as your bloodline shall live…it’s a good luck piece, for when you are in the Jam of your life, just get yourself the most expensive bottle you can afford, toss back a flagon, and warm your insides to the coming battle; fate trills and winning take every time, and needs must, sometimes fortification is needed before one goes out into the face of certain destruction…it’s become a hobby here at the market tavern, but else persevere…one day fate may lay her tab, and one day destiny will answer with a firm nod of her head…it’s go time, she’d that heavy burden and live a little…so safety me after a glass from this magical chalice…+4 fortification in the face of certain victory…it can be daunting that way.

Old Skellington: one of my daughters favorite play toys: hand carved, heavy pewter, caught me walking along the shops one night in Brussels, was powerfully expensive and put me over my allowable tax exempt buys in one purchase, but it needn’t have mattered, I’d crossed that line on the first day…was a nice trip. Comes with bag and extra foot…and is also, in keeping with the macabre side of the display; a genuine murder weapon. I would say attempted murder, but when you die, things happen…they are very intense about them happening, and when you get thrown back out, too mealy and way to soft, you tend to get a different outlook on things…so it has three dents on the back of his little head, and I have three equally damaged placed shots in whatever X-ray you would like to choose, except the one they gave me, as the barest minimum of service, as they laughed and mocked the drunk, not once realizing that my courted speech, doubled over body, inability to see or understand my surroundings…was not the four day old sour wine that the cop poured over me, before he left me for dead for my daughter to find: will negotiate on this one:as the cane…$10000.00 USD is a fine price, for a long story short and I think it would be worth the price for the first place in order; as a murder weapon filled with eldritch powers from the center of time, where the steward is definitely of a skewed mind on things, but must make way for a new direction, and let old and vanished pains disappear…for that would be a kind blessing indeed.

So I negotiated a truce the other day ; with the aliens, and in it I sold the human race, and all the land and rights to timezones seven and eight, to the center of the earth, the stars and sun and moon, and I got a fair good price for it too…I sold you all in exchange for ascension…it worked, and the aliens are content with the feast…seven billion people made for a huge feed, and they birthed little baby worlds all over the place, and dragons too…I get 54% of the power and essence, and you humans get…your lands renewed for another contract, to whit, the nitrogen is pouring back into soil as it turns over for its two millennial cleaning and grooming…good for me right! Saved the worlds environment from utter destruction by a nitrogen fart that would blow the top layer off of the entire planet…for a while the solar system as they curled themselves around the sun, in an effort to threaten you humans…you did not notice…sheesh I thought…so I need to capture that on my tax return, how much is 1 fifth of the earth and seven billion souls…oh wait, it was way more than seven billion souls, it was two thousand years of dead life essence…that hung over us like a psychic mis as a, sort of the same is created in battlefields, especially places of mass slaughter. No, I did not consider any of you in the price or negotiations…you got paid…you are alive, the air is cleaner, the soil will be richer and you should start to feel frisky…this is where things get dicey and tricky really quick…so don’t antagonize them any more, sheesh, your father is beside himself…is there any more of the dark dessert?

Handmade apprentice coin, very rare 1985 Canada silver dollar, looking for all the little pieces and tricks, including the four suits of the deck of cards…I am all four…it is one of a pair…$949.49 USD

I have a number of coins, quite the collection. You get one each time you defeat a demon or a vampire or an undead shambled and then there are the human magic keys in the third dimension; they have no class, and wait until I do the dirty work then slip in and steal, and steal, and steal…like my minders, like my fae, like the people who steal from my bank accounts…and, of course, being the personal pet dog of the pope, who is meant to battle and lose, or lose, since he cannot face his own protocols and realize that he is perpetuating the most heinous crime in history, and that it is finished. And no, not with MY money, and my assets and my corporation, to which the popes bankers kept my dead father alive ten years, and loaded me with a dead man’s debt and sat me here, in an effort to bring about the end of the world, and that is causing some friction today, as they call me a devil, and I quietly point out that I am a sanctified, invested, Templar knight and am sick and tired…I am bred like a dog, and they feed me wonderful treats, rewards and all sorts of treasures, so that I will remain and fight for them and not just leave, and let earth …

They have promised me so many things, and I am looking so forward to taking my daughter to Paris…and a spending spree, pistols and maybe, because of their promise to not eat the blood and body of Christ, because they realize how wrong it is to have a twenty foot tall Jesus Christ in the fifth dimension that is dead…nailed there, and being eaten non stop b