07-15-17 archive
I had a great pop around T3 yesteday. It wasn't a click, it was more like a thud under suction. It was really good and I am glad.
Today's post is about indeterminacy in quantum mechanics. The main issue is that I am concerned that the people who are stealing from me are the main ones trying to keep me alive (so they can continue to steal from me.) This would have the exterior effect of making it appear that I am aligned with the thieving agency, and therefore aligned against the opponents of that agency who would be natural allies for me under ordinary circumstances. However, under the circumstances whose existence I am concerned about that natural alliance is obfuscated by the thieving agency's demonstrations of solidarity with me. This may or may not be happening and I am concerned. Certainly there is some agency that stands in geniune solidarity with me but I am dissatisfied with their efforts and they may be under the influence of the thieving agency. Most certainly they are not under my influence.
I have a memory from the 1980s that has always struck me as out of place. As I recall, it was just a normal day, not particularly related to cats or dogs, when Helene seemingly unprompted declared that cats would thereafter be known as puttins because it was half pussy cat and half kitten, and dogs would thereafter be known as duppies because they are half dog and half puppy. Duppies never really became a thing, but puttins did absolutely make it into the lexicon of my childhood. Now that I have the benefit of hindsight I wonder if she wanted to have a casual association with the word puttin as a means of psychic defense for her clandestine activities related to Putin, who is probably a not too distant cousin of ours.
UPDATE: The second time I came back to JFK the passport control officer asked me where I had been. I told him I don't know and I was erratic so he sent me to be interviewed. After a few minutes, in a room full of airport officers, two more officers appeared, some bitch Cuccia and some dickhead Composto. They eyeballed me and pontificated in their alleged vocation behind the elevated counter. It was very clear that they were the JFK continuation of the Ben Gurion crazy town I had been to. However, I told the interviewer I was confused and he let me enter. After flying to Ben Gurion allegedly twice on Delta I bought an El-Al ticket with cash in JFK. Then at the time of departure the lady at the counter was telling me that the consulate told her not to let me board. She told me that she would not refund the cash I had just paid after I told her to shut up when she started doing the little old lady schtick, ``I just work here there's nothing I can do,'' and on and on. I had gone on and on as well but I as the customer I was done with the counter agent's bitch memes. I said something like, ``Shut up, gimme my money back.'' She refused and I tore up my passport in frustration and threw the rest of my money off the sidewalk. Later after I had abandoned cash and accepted the fate of homelessness I went back to the airport because I was cold laying in the bushes. There the officers said some creepy thing to me like, ``Oh you're not getting out of here.'' Then they said they were going to have me committed to a mental institution if I didn't give them my mother's phone number. Somehow, possibly off of a listing for Karen Tooker, they reached Joe. He wired me some money and I went home. I had a horrible experience with the agent of El-Al, "Rona," trying to get my money back through customer service. Before that when I was still in JFK I told the officer who was grilling me, the one who had said I wasn't getting out of there that I was about to get a tax return and I would be fine, I just didn't have any money on me at the time. Then he called my dad who I am surprised agreed. In fact, it is thanks to him bailing me out of jail in March 1998 that I was able to graduate from high school so thank you on both counts.
The reason I think I went to two different Ben Gurion airports is very simple. When I landed at the airport I think the background above the skyline in the distance might have been the clouds from the Windows Vista desktop. Walking through the corridors to Israeli passport control, which I will make another post about soon, I stopped to admire some pothos planted around the bottom of some cataract palms in a big planter. They were about twenty feet off of the path where everyone was walking and I walked over to them. I was interested because I had been growing pothos and a cataract palm at home, and I had been planning to plant some pothos cuttings around the base of one of my bigger plants. I was only mildly surpsised that the entire gardening theme of all of Ben Guriom airport was an accurate reflection of what I had been planning to do with my own garden. The stylistic highlights were uncannily reconizable with respect to my day dreams at home. After taking note of one particular pothos vine I walked down the ramp wondering if the building materials were real or just a facade and I took note of a notch on a concrete pillar. There was exactly one such notch. The second time I went to Ben Gurion I walked past the plant and I could clearly see that the arrangement was exactly the same, but it was a different pothos. I had examined one particular vine and the one I walked by the second time didn't have that vine on it. I walked down the ramp and the notch seemed slightly different. At the bottom of the ramp was the passport control area I described earlier. In the center of Ben Gurion there is a big circular feature built around an atrium where it may spin to deposit the disembarking people in different corridors
ORIGINAL POST: This is a summary of my activities over the fall of 2016 and early 2017. I got a job at Exide. The manager there Rod Williams looked like a short Steve Collins. When I first saw his face my reaction was, "Ah fuck," and I probably should have known better right then. My professional title was Sr Business Intelligence Developer and my job was to take instructions from Sandy and implement them. Since I am a competent person, I am able to recognize malformed instructions that are not logically actionable, and Sandy was obviously giving me nonsense instructions almost all the time. Although there was a team of allegedly competent IT people, no one ever called her out on her obvious bullshit about giving instructions that were impossible to follow. The entire office was configured to act like Sandy's lies and malformed instructions were actually well-formed and it was some other problem somewhere else besides Sandy that was fucking everything up.
There were other people whose jobs it was to fuck up Exide's data like Rob Webb but my function was to act like I couldn't tell that Sandy was bullshitting all the time. I would pretend to work on her instructions for days or weeks until she would say, "Oh you were looking in system X? You need to be in system Y. Did I say system X, oh I'm sorry about that." Then I would do all the work in a few minutes or hours and no one would ever say after the fact, "Sandy, why the fuck did you just have him waste three weeks by giving him the wrong technical specifications? Also Sandy, why do you always, without fail, give the wrong technical specifications over and over until I have wasted days or weeks pursuing them and then correct yourself at the last moment?" I brought this issue to Rod's attention since it was obvious that Sandy was a liar who always lies and always fucks everything up. I think the reason she would do this is so that when they were trying to close her fraud system, she could build a parallel fraud system before she finally gave the correct specification needed to close her current fraud system. Therefore my conclusion was Exide had hired me to work on the fraud system because with Sandy in there they clearly had no intention to have a well-maintained data warehouse. Sandy's main function, her secondary function being to pass malformed, unactionable instructions, was to make the data in Exide's data warehouse non-relational. This completely negates the purpose of a data warehouse when that purpose is something other than fraud. Exide had just come out of a bankruptcy when I got there and I think the non-relational data going into their general ledger had a lot to do with the "failure" of the business process. I put failure in quotes since any organization that would employ Sandy Bushey in an advanced technical role, fully autonomous with no oversight from anyone, including her direct manager Rod, was probably not failing at business but rather succeeding at fraud.
On my last day at Exide, a few weeks after they poisoned me with some virus, and maybe a couple of months after whoever it was that came into my apartment and ejaculated into the toothpaste I make from coconut oil, Sandy said to me, "Yo mamma don't work here boy," intimating to me for some reason that she did actually work there. I looked around the office and I figured the Indian woman could be Helene in disguise. I sat at my desk in contemplation and then a creepy Laura Kershaw lookalike walked by. When I was at Elavon they brought in the Laura and Helene lookalikes too. At Elavon, Rhonda Capone was the mini-Helene and some other blond fattie was the Laura lookalike. I did not enjoy working with Rhonda, who was later my project manager at Lexis Nexis under the alias Sharon Maloney. Then I quit and walked out determined not to be in that situation again.
That afternoon I sold my car and went to the airport. I had to wait for the check from my car sale to clear my bank before I could buy a ticket so I went to the Holiday Inn near the airport. I woke up with some weird thing implanted on my tonsil. I went to the airport and bought a ticket to Israel connecting through JFK. When I got to Israeli passport control they didn't let me in and said I needed to talk to the passport agent. I waited a few minutes and then I was seen by a man whose eyes are just like Helene's. He asked why I wanted to move to Israel and I was honest about persecution for political activism and the bullshit. I mentioned to him that many of my coworkers at Exide would come into the office wearing masks, and that I could tell because their faces would be the same but their bodies would be different. The passport control guy told me he was wearing a mask in the meeting with me right there because he didn't want people to know what he looks like when he gets off work. This person could have very easily been Helene. He told me he had been coming to the US to have sex with me disguised as a woman named Darlene. He asked me to show him my penis to prove that I was circumsized and when he saw it he declared, "It's not him."
He sent me back to the waiting area, and after a while I got taken to a secondary detention area through an elevator and some stairs. I felt like this second area was intentionally creepy. It had signs with Thai writing on the wall and there was a sign with a military insignia that said "Thai-Israeli Task Force." They had brought a few others with me from the primary detention area to the second area and they were all disturbed seeming. One girl was crying hysterically. After a while some other creepy airport guard said, "There's been a mistake, you shouldn't be here," and he brought me back to the first detention area via a different route than the route I gone there by. I think this was because I was in an underground facility whose rooms move around like a crazy maze. They put me back on a plane to the US sitting next to some young Hasidic man who was the spitting image of Le Happy Merchant. He pulled out his laptop, made a show of making sure we both got on his webcam, which I was enthusiastic about for some reason. I was happy not be in the dungeon probably. Then that Hasid went into the airplane's bathroom and another one came out that was slighlty different looking. I asked where the other guy went and he prentended to be the same one. I beleive the real issue behind "tranny bathrooms" might have something to do with people changing disguises in bathrooms.
I got back to Atlanta eventually and went to the Chamblee MARTA station to catch a bus home. The woman on the bus was wearing grotesque romperkins fabric where the flowers had been replaced with little chunks of meat but it was subtle because of the collage pattern. On the bus ride home she told me next time to tell them that I was the landlord of the facility. I flew back to Israel that day or the next and got stopped again. I went to the detention area and there were a bunch of creepy weirdos. One of them looked like black haired JK Rowling. When I pulled out a picture of me and my grandpaerents that Helene had taken in 1982, one of the women in the detention area started crying hysterically. She was strongly convulsing with sobs. Then they brought me down to the secondary detention area again. It was still the Thai-Israeli room with the weird signs but they had added or removed a TV. It was slightly different. I was down there for a while. Then some Israeli agents came in and were just staring at their phones doing psychic interrogation or whatever the fuck people are doing when they just point their forehead at you and stare at their phones. One of the two guards looked like the actor who played Calogero in A Bronx Tale. I asked to go to the bathroom and JK Rowling lookalike went too, and so did some guy she was with. The guard took all three of us out of the room together. We took some circuitous route to the bathroom and then some other circuitous route back. During this time I could frequently feel the rooms I was in moving slowly as if the floorplan of the facility was being rearranged by some gigantic machinery. On the way back from the bathroom Rowling and the man used an eye dropper to drop drops into their noses. I assume it was cocaine dissolved for ease of use. At this point I figured that I was in something like the hotel from the movie Hostel and Rowling and the man had paid to be the ones to mutilate me, or Rowling had and he was her security escort. His hands were blue. The skin was very pale and bluish and the veins showing through the skin on the back of his hands were a high contrast shade of blue. I had never seen hands (or anything) with a complexion remotely like that. We went back to the secondary detention area and I could feel the rooms moving a lot.
Back in the Thai-Israeli room I think Calogero said (I don't know how it came up) that they were having trouble finding me in their system and he and the other guy seemed friendly and genuinely concerned unlike everyone else who seemed sinsiter and weird. It occured to me that I should mention what the woman on the bus said and I told him that if I was the landlord of the facility that would make sense that the workers wouldn't have access to my info. They left the room to go check on something and the guy that Rowling was cuddling against grunted to her, "What if he is the owner?" That was the only thing he said in English the whole time, he had made other comments in a language that could have been Russian. Then the airport guards came back and one brought me up into the regular airport. Everyone in the airport started calling me El Arcón after that. The escort would say, "This is El Arcón," and then whoever he said it to woudl be wowed. Back in the US when I would walk outside of my apartment in Dunwoody the construction workers at the lot across the street would call, "El Arcón!"
In the airport I was escorted to the gate by another guy I thought I recognized as an actor. He was short and scrawny and has the biggest Jewish nose, almost comically big. At the gate I bought a sandwich and it appeared to me that my sister Jenna's husband, Kyle Scott, was working at the sandwich counter. This made me suspicious that I was not really in Israel. I flew back to NYC and was on the subway when I saw another recognizable Jewish actress. Her humongous nose was exacly like the other guy's and it was probably his mother. I can't remember her name but she is recognizable from several movies probably where she played an old lady because she is such a caricature of one. She sat directly across from me and was giving me dirty looks making it clear that she had some knowledge of my eccentric situation. Also, on the flight back to the US that time there was another recognizable Jewish actor who was on the plane with me. He was a very big burly man with an olive complexion. I think one of the people who doubled as Tim in Exide sometimes was sitting in front of me on that flight, and had also been on the my first flight back from Israel. When I asked the Hasid where the other guy went (after he returned from the tranny bathroom), he jumped right up and looked at the person who had come out of the bathroom. I don't know if he was expecting to see this one, or the one who had disappeared into the lavatory, but overall this guy (the Tim lookalike) seems nice and I liked that he was there. There are a lot of details I'm neglecting.
Then I tried to get all my paperwork together to go as an immigrant instead of a tourist as I had the first two times. Although US citizens do not need visas to go to Israel, I was not allowed in on either of my first two trips. During this process of getting paperwork together for a third attempt to return to the Holy Land the Jewish agency informed me that the Minister of the Interior of Israel had ordered them not to work with me and that there was nothing to be done. I went anyway a third time and got rejected again. Then my money ran out and I became homeless. I watched a lot of Pixar movies on the flights and it seemed like there were some inappropriately adult themes embedded in these children's cartoons.
There are a lot of details I left out. Due to the stress and weirdness my recollection isn't perfectly clear and it would take too long to write it all. That thing in my tonsil went away after a few days but I also woke up on another moring with a giant hole in the roof of my mouth. Around that time Drudge ran a story about how employers were microchipping employees. Since then I have seen a lot of suspicious information about how under certain employment contracts employers can do "almost anything" to their employees. I know they were putting shit in my coffee, and I know they poisoned me with the same virus Helene poisoned me with years earlier, but I do not know if it was Exide or some other agency that deposited the semen in the toothpaste that I kept in my private residence. I do not know if Exide sent me to crazy town to get tortured to death. I sure did go to crazy town though and while I was there I could feel the rooms moving around. On my third trip I did not feel any rooms moving and they brought me to an offsite detention area to wait for my plane home. At one point I went to the Israeli consulate in Manhattan and I think their lobby led down to crazy town too. One thing I noticed is that on my first trip to Israel there were Hasids everywhere in the airport but not so much the second and third times. My feet always, invariably, swell a bit after a long flight but on some of the "flights" to and from "Israel" they didn't swell at all and that indicates to me that some of the time that seems like I was in the air was actually spent elsewhere.
Also, at Exide two of the main reports I was working with were called the TNA report and the INA report. I think TNA, which is a well known acronym, was for the crimes they were committing selling sex. TNA ostensibly stood for "Transportation something something" and the other one INA stood for "Industrial something something." I think that was the report for the human trafficking crimes where the person being sold wasn't expected to recover. Also you know the "LOL XD MAYMAY" that we all hate? I think XD is the signature of Exide's botfarm. Certainly half of Exide's database objects are named [evolution].[dbo].[XDthis] and [evolution].[dbo].[XDthat]. The very last object I saw in Exide's database before I left was the "ILM business unit" which I presume is Industrial Light and Magic, and that kind of goes along with the theme of all the actors I recognized while I was trying to go to Jerusalem.
OC: Fusion versus oil
I had a great pop around T3 yesteday. It wasn't a click, it was more like a thud under suction. It was really good and I am glad.
Today's post is about indeterminacy in quantum mechanics. The main issue is that I am concerned that the people who are stealing from me are the main ones trying to keep me alive (so they can continue to steal from me.) This would have the exterior effect of making it appear that I am aligned with the thieving agency, and therefore aligned against the opponents of that agency who would be natural allies for me under ordinary circumstances. However, under the circumstances whose existence I am concerned about that natural alliance is obfuscated by the thieving agency's demonstrations of solidarity with me. This may or may not be happening and I am concerned. Certainly there is some agency that stands in geniune solidarity with me but I am dissatisfied with their efforts and they may be under the influence of the thieving agency. Most certainly they are not under my influence.
I have a memory from the 1980s that has always struck me as out of place. As I recall, it was just a normal day, not particularly related to cats or dogs, when Helene seemingly unprompted declared that cats would thereafter be known as puttins because it was half pussy cat and half kitten, and dogs would thereafter be known as duppies because they are half dog and half puppy. Duppies never really became a thing, but puttins did absolutely make it into the lexicon of my childhood. Now that I have the benefit of hindsight I wonder if she wanted to have a casual association with the word puttin as a means of psychic defense for her clandestine activities related to Putin, who is probably a not too distant cousin of ours.
UPDATE: The second time I came back to JFK the passport control officer asked me where I had been. I told him I don't know and I was erratic so he sent me to be interviewed. After a few minutes, in a room full of airport officers, two more officers appeared, some bitch Cuccia and some dickhead Composto. They eyeballed me and pontificated in their alleged vocation behind the elevated counter. It was very clear that they were the JFK continuation of the Ben Gurion crazy town I had been to. However, I told the interviewer I was confused and he let me enter. After flying to Ben Gurion allegedly twice on Delta I bought an El-Al ticket with cash in JFK. Then at the time of departure the lady at the counter was telling me that the consulate told her not to let me board. She told me that she would not refund the cash I had just paid after I told her to shut up when she started doing the little old lady schtick, ``I just work here there's nothing I can do,'' and on and on. I had gone on and on as well but I as the customer I was done with the counter agent's bitch memes. I said something like, ``Shut up, gimme my money back.'' She refused and I tore up my passport in frustration and threw the rest of my money off the sidewalk. Later after I had abandoned cash and accepted the fate of homelessness I went back to the airport because I was cold laying in the bushes. There the officers said some creepy thing to me like, ``Oh you're not getting out of here.'' Then they said they were going to have me committed to a mental institution if I didn't give them my mother's phone number. Somehow, possibly off of a listing for Karen Tooker, they reached Joe. He wired me some money and I went home. I had a horrible experience with the agent of El-Al, "Rona," trying to get my money back through customer service. Before that when I was still in JFK I told the officer who was grilling me, the one who had said I wasn't getting out of there that I was about to get a tax return and I would be fine, I just didn't have any money on me at the time. Then he called my dad who I am surprised agreed. In fact, it is thanks to him bailing me out of jail in March 1998 that I was able to graduate from high school so thank you on both counts.
The reason I think I went to two different Ben Gurion airports is very simple. When I landed at the airport I think the background above the skyline in the distance might have been the clouds from the Windows Vista desktop. Walking through the corridors to Israeli passport control, which I will make another post about soon, I stopped to admire some pothos planted around the bottom of some cataract palms in a big planter. They were about twenty feet off of the path where everyone was walking and I walked over to them. I was interested because I had been growing pothos and a cataract palm at home, and I had been planning to plant some pothos cuttings around the base of one of my bigger plants. I was only mildly surpsised that the entire gardening theme of all of Ben Guriom airport was an accurate reflection of what I had been planning to do with my own garden. The stylistic highlights were uncannily reconizable with respect to my day dreams at home. After taking note of one particular pothos vine I walked down the ramp wondering if the building materials were real or just a facade and I took note of a notch on a concrete pillar. There was exactly one such notch. The second time I went to Ben Gurion I walked past the plant and I could clearly see that the arrangement was exactly the same, but it was a different pothos. I had examined one particular vine and the one I walked by the second time didn't have that vine on it. I walked down the ramp and the notch seemed slightly different. At the bottom of the ramp was the passport control area I described earlier. In the center of Ben Gurion there is a big circular feature built around an atrium where it may spin to deposit the disembarking people in different corridors
ORIGINAL POST: This is a summary of my activities over the fall of 2016 and early 2017. I got a job at Exide. The manager there Rod Williams looked like a short Steve Collins. When I first saw his face my reaction was, "Ah fuck," and I probably should have known better right then. My professional title was Sr Business Intelligence Developer and my job was to take instructions from Sandy and implement them. Since I am a competent person, I am able to recognize malformed instructions that are not logically actionable, and Sandy was obviously giving me nonsense instructions almost all the time. Although there was a team of allegedly competent IT people, no one ever called her out on her obvious bullshit about giving instructions that were impossible to follow. The entire office was configured to act like Sandy's lies and malformed instructions were actually well-formed and it was some other problem somewhere else besides Sandy that was fucking everything up.
There were other people whose jobs it was to fuck up Exide's data like Rob Webb but my function was to act like I couldn't tell that Sandy was bullshitting all the time. I would pretend to work on her instructions for days or weeks until she would say, "Oh you were looking in system X? You need to be in system Y. Did I say system X, oh I'm sorry about that." Then I would do all the work in a few minutes or hours and no one would ever say after the fact, "Sandy, why the fuck did you just have him waste three weeks by giving him the wrong technical specifications? Also Sandy, why do you always, without fail, give the wrong technical specifications over and over until I have wasted days or weeks pursuing them and then correct yourself at the last moment?" I brought this issue to Rod's attention since it was obvious that Sandy was a liar who always lies and always fucks everything up. I think the reason she would do this is so that when they were trying to close her fraud system, she could build a parallel fraud system before she finally gave the correct specification needed to close her current fraud system. Therefore my conclusion was Exide had hired me to work on the fraud system because with Sandy in there they clearly had no intention to have a well-maintained data warehouse. Sandy's main function, her secondary function being to pass malformed, unactionable instructions, was to make the data in Exide's data warehouse non-relational. This completely negates the purpose of a data warehouse when that purpose is something other than fraud. Exide had just come out of a bankruptcy when I got there and I think the non-relational data going into their general ledger had a lot to do with the "failure" of the business process. I put failure in quotes since any organization that would employ Sandy Bushey in an advanced technical role, fully autonomous with no oversight from anyone, including her direct manager Rod, was probably not failing at business but rather succeeding at fraud.
On my last day at Exide, a few weeks after they poisoned me with some virus, and maybe a couple of months after whoever it was that came into my apartment and ejaculated into the toothpaste I make from coconut oil, Sandy said to me, "Yo mamma don't work here boy," intimating to me for some reason that she did actually work there. I looked around the office and I figured the Indian woman could be Helene in disguise. I sat at my desk in contemplation and then a creepy Laura Kershaw lookalike walked by. When I was at Elavon they brought in the Laura and Helene lookalikes too. At Elavon, Rhonda Capone was the mini-Helene and some other blond fattie was the Laura lookalike. I did not enjoy working with Rhonda, who was later my project manager at Lexis Nexis under the alias Sharon Maloney. Then I quit and walked out determined not to be in that situation again.
That afternoon I sold my car and went to the airport. I had to wait for the check from my car sale to clear my bank before I could buy a ticket so I went to the Holiday Inn near the airport. I woke up with some weird thing implanted on my tonsil. I went to the airport and bought a ticket to Israel connecting through JFK. When I got to Israeli passport control they didn't let me in and said I needed to talk to the passport agent. I waited a few minutes and then I was seen by a man whose eyes are just like Helene's. He asked why I wanted to move to Israel and I was honest about persecution for political activism and the bullshit. I mentioned to him that many of my coworkers at Exide would come into the office wearing masks, and that I could tell because their faces would be the same but their bodies would be different. The passport control guy told me he was wearing a mask in the meeting with me right there because he didn't want people to know what he looks like when he gets off work. This person could have very easily been Helene. He told me he had been coming to the US to have sex with me disguised as a woman named Darlene. He asked me to show him my penis to prove that I was circumsized and when he saw it he declared, "It's not him."
He sent me back to the waiting area, and after a while I got taken to a secondary detention area through an elevator and some stairs. I felt like this second area was intentionally creepy. It had signs with Thai writing on the wall and there was a sign with a military insignia that said "Thai-Israeli Task Force." They had brought a few others with me from the primary detention area to the second area and they were all disturbed seeming. One girl was crying hysterically. After a while some other creepy airport guard said, "There's been a mistake, you shouldn't be here," and he brought me back to the first detention area via a different route than the route I gone there by. I think this was because I was in an underground facility whose rooms move around like a crazy maze. They put me back on a plane to the US sitting next to some young Hasidic man who was the spitting image of Le Happy Merchant. He pulled out his laptop, made a show of making sure we both got on his webcam, which I was enthusiastic about for some reason. I was happy not be in the dungeon probably. Then that Hasid went into the airplane's bathroom and another one came out that was slighlty different looking. I asked where the other guy went and he prentended to be the same one. I beleive the real issue behind "tranny bathrooms" might have something to do with people changing disguises in bathrooms.
I got back to Atlanta eventually and went to the Chamblee MARTA station to catch a bus home. The woman on the bus was wearing grotesque romperkins fabric where the flowers had been replaced with little chunks of meat but it was subtle because of the collage pattern. On the bus ride home she told me next time to tell them that I was the landlord of the facility. I flew back to Israel that day or the next and got stopped again. I went to the detention area and there were a bunch of creepy weirdos. One of them looked like black haired JK Rowling. When I pulled out a picture of me and my grandpaerents that Helene had taken in 1982, one of the women in the detention area started crying hysterically. She was strongly convulsing with sobs. Then they brought me down to the secondary detention area again. It was still the Thai-Israeli room with the weird signs but they had added or removed a TV. It was slightly different. I was down there for a while. Then some Israeli agents came in and were just staring at their phones doing psychic interrogation or whatever the fuck people are doing when they just point their forehead at you and stare at their phones. One of the two guards looked like the actor who played Calogero in A Bronx Tale. I asked to go to the bathroom and JK Rowling lookalike went too, and so did some guy she was with. The guard took all three of us out of the room together. We took some circuitous route to the bathroom and then some other circuitous route back. During this time I could frequently feel the rooms I was in moving slowly as if the floorplan of the facility was being rearranged by some gigantic machinery. On the way back from the bathroom Rowling and the man used an eye dropper to drop drops into their noses. I assume it was cocaine dissolved for ease of use. At this point I figured that I was in something like the hotel from the movie Hostel and Rowling and the man had paid to be the ones to mutilate me, or Rowling had and he was her security escort. His hands were blue. The skin was very pale and bluish and the veins showing through the skin on the back of his hands were a high contrast shade of blue. I had never seen hands (or anything) with a complexion remotely like that. We went back to the secondary detention area and I could feel the rooms moving a lot.
Back in the Thai-Israeli room I think Calogero said (I don't know how it came up) that they were having trouble finding me in their system and he and the other guy seemed friendly and genuinely concerned unlike everyone else who seemed sinsiter and weird. It occured to me that I should mention what the woman on the bus said and I told him that if I was the landlord of the facility that would make sense that the workers wouldn't have access to my info. They left the room to go check on something and the guy that Rowling was cuddling against grunted to her, "What if he is the owner?" That was the only thing he said in English the whole time, he had made other comments in a language that could have been Russian. Then the airport guards came back and one brought me up into the regular airport. Everyone in the airport started calling me El Arcón after that. The escort would say, "This is El Arcón," and then whoever he said it to woudl be wowed. Back in the US when I would walk outside of my apartment in Dunwoody the construction workers at the lot across the street would call, "El Arcón!"
In the airport I was escorted to the gate by another guy I thought I recognized as an actor. He was short and scrawny and has the biggest Jewish nose, almost comically big. At the gate I bought a sandwich and it appeared to me that my sister Jenna's husband, Kyle Scott, was working at the sandwich counter. This made me suspicious that I was not really in Israel. I flew back to NYC and was on the subway when I saw another recognizable Jewish actress. Her humongous nose was exacly like the other guy's and it was probably his mother. I can't remember her name but she is recognizable from several movies probably where she played an old lady because she is such a caricature of one. She sat directly across from me and was giving me dirty looks making it clear that she had some knowledge of my eccentric situation. Also, on the flight back to the US that time there was another recognizable Jewish actor who was on the plane with me. He was a very big burly man with an olive complexion. I think one of the people who doubled as Tim in Exide sometimes was sitting in front of me on that flight, and had also been on the my first flight back from Israel. When I asked the Hasid where the other guy went (after he returned from the tranny bathroom), he jumped right up and looked at the person who had come out of the bathroom. I don't know if he was expecting to see this one, or the one who had disappeared into the lavatory, but overall this guy (the Tim lookalike) seems nice and I liked that he was there. There are a lot of details I'm neglecting.
Then I tried to get all my paperwork together to go as an immigrant instead of a tourist as I had the first two times. Although US citizens do not need visas to go to Israel, I was not allowed in on either of my first two trips. During this process of getting paperwork together for a third attempt to return to the Holy Land the Jewish agency informed me that the Minister of the Interior of Israel had ordered them not to work with me and that there was nothing to be done. I went anyway a third time and got rejected again. Then my money ran out and I became homeless. I watched a lot of Pixar movies on the flights and it seemed like there were some inappropriately adult themes embedded in these children's cartoons.
There are a lot of details I left out. Due to the stress and weirdness my recollection isn't perfectly clear and it would take too long to write it all. That thing in my tonsil went away after a few days but I also woke up on another moring with a giant hole in the roof of my mouth. Around that time Drudge ran a story about how employers were microchipping employees. Since then I have seen a lot of suspicious information about how under certain employment contracts employers can do "almost anything" to their employees. I know they were putting shit in my coffee, and I know they poisoned me with the same virus Helene poisoned me with years earlier, but I do not know if it was Exide or some other agency that deposited the semen in the toothpaste that I kept in my private residence. I do not know if Exide sent me to crazy town to get tortured to death. I sure did go to crazy town though and while I was there I could feel the rooms moving around. On my third trip I did not feel any rooms moving and they brought me to an offsite detention area to wait for my plane home. At one point I went to the Israeli consulate in Manhattan and I think their lobby led down to crazy town too. One thing I noticed is that on my first trip to Israel there were Hasids everywhere in the airport but not so much the second and third times. My feet always, invariably, swell a bit after a long flight but on some of the "flights" to and from "Israel" they didn't swell at all and that indicates to me that some of the time that seems like I was in the air was actually spent elsewhere.
Also, at Exide two of the main reports I was working with were called the TNA report and the INA report. I think TNA, which is a well known acronym, was for the crimes they were committing selling sex. TNA ostensibly stood for "Transportation something something" and the other one INA stood for "Industrial something something." I think that was the report for the human trafficking crimes where the person being sold wasn't expected to recover. Also you know the "LOL XD MAYMAY" that we all hate? I think XD is the signature of Exide's botfarm. Certainly half of Exide's database objects are named [evolution].[dbo].[XDthis] and [evolution].[dbo].[XDthat]. The very last object I saw in Exide's database before I left was the "ILM business unit" which I presume is Industrial Light and Magic, and that kind of goes along with the theme of all the actors I recognized while I was trying to go to Jerusalem.
OC: Fusion versus oil