Oh, Ireland. Where are we now, after a full year of the big Lurgi lockdown? Nowhere further along to freedom being restored, it seems. Oh, sure, we had brief glimpses over the wall, but that was just to tease us, wasn’t it? A big joke on us; a prank to make us think that if we played along, our jailers would set us free sooner. Still, we learned to love our servitude, didn’t we? Kissed the jailor’s hand, and even begged to be beaten down some more.
Well, folks, I hope those of you that played along are happy now. What’s that you say? It’s people like me that are holding the rest of you back from getting your freedom? Suuuure. You keep on believing that, then, if that gets you any further along, towards freedom. I think you’ll find it doesn’t, but far be it from me to try to persuade you differently. I know well how people like to cling to beliefs that make them feel better. Bit sick of it now, are you? He he. Aren’t we all? I discuss a couple of aspects about the Lurgi lockdown, one personal, one political, that have cropped up for me recently, because of the events of the last year, in this livestream.
Never mind their psyOps. Maybe turn the narratives off for a while, completely, and dance to your own tunes, when you need a break from their madness? Freedom happens mostly in your own mind, anyway, some say. Just don’t tune out the truth, completely, through fear or blind trust, and expect it all to turn out grand in the end.
Yipee. It’s that day I’ve been looking forward to. My new book is out, and I’m so excited, because I get to celebrate down at Café Emerald (leaps out of bed, and flings open the curtains). Well, the sun isn’t exactly shining, but that just makes it sparklier, down at the café, so it’s all good.
Didn’t know I had a little cafe, did ya? Well, I have a lot of things tucked away in my imagination, and “The Q Woo” is just one of them, that we’re celebrating today. It’s like a birthday party, for a book, what we’re doing today. This is Part 2 of “The Q Affaire”, of course, but I’m publishing it as a volume on its own, today, in the gift shop (points to an area you hadn’t noticed before, as I pour you a nice hot beverage, at the best table in the house, and they’re all great tables!). I make things. Books, art, craft, anything pretty or interesting, that I think will be fun to do, I’m sure to give it a go. I’ve even had a go at doing an ad for my book (titters).
I’ve arranged the shelves nicely so you don’t even have to get out of your comfy seat to see all the bits and bobs (returns from behind the shelves somewhere with a plate of fresh croissants and jam for you, smiling).
(The Gift Shop, over there- points vaguely towards the back, at shelves with all sorts of interesting knick-knacks, plus that book that you’ve been waiting eagerly on. You salivate with interest, then notice that Donna has obligingly brought a copy of it to the table for you): DonnaEmeraldArt etsy.com
Here’s the blurb on the back cover of the latest one. I’ll read it for you, if you don’t want to let your croissants get cold before the butter and jam go on (adjusts reading glasses and reads):
What’s it about? Well, it’s a continuation of a comedy thriller I published recently, but I’ve brought in this new character, Q, that you didn’t get to meet personally, in the first book, and there’s romance, and comedy, and adventure, all rolled up in a big puzzle plot, and it’s all set on YouTube, and it’s terribly exciting, and funny, with lots of suspense, and thrills and spills. I put everything I like into it, just like I do with the other stuff in life, you know? Put in things you get a kick out of, and hope other people get a kick out of them as well, you get me? Of course it’s very deep too (puts on serious author face, not terribly convincingly). He he. It’s actually a pretty hard to follow plot, so I recommend the Backchannel Reading Room, over there, for those who are anywhere past, ooooh, Chapter 5. It’s nice and quiet in there, and very secret, so don’t tell anyone about it. You, dear reader, are a special customer, so you get the key (pulls out an ancient looking key from a devastatingly attractive but tastefully understated cleavage area, and displays its rusty elegance against a deliciously curved clavicle). There’s a fire in there, on chilly afternoons (you haul your eyes up to my face, thinking of fires and cleavages, for a moment, until comprehension dawns. I pretend to not notice I know what you were thinking, and look back at the book. as you blush. So, let’s read what the reviewers said about the ol’ bookie book, shall we? This is from the blurb at the back, as well:
I’ll leave you to enjoy your tea, coffee, cakey, musicy, bookie nice time, on your own for a while, and go look after the other customers. If you need a refill, just raise a hand absent-mindedly while reading, and I’ll be over without you missing a moment away from reading, or having to talk. Have fun, and get up and walk around whenever you want to think. WCs are in the Top Level Clearance Rooms, for Q clearance customers’ eyes only. Extra fluffy towels and fancy cologne for handies available there, dear reader. See you later. (Goes to say hello to other arrivals, seats them, and heads off to make more tea and coffee, and fiddle about with gift items people have been enthusing over while they get settled down with copies of the fabulously Fnordish looking new tome, hot off the always wonderful Ms. Emerald’s magical tablet.
I didn’t write the whole thing at the café, as some writers do, you know, because the beeps and other weird noises can put you off, but then again, I’ve made sure nothing in my cafe beeps, and the customers, being the type that love books, are delightfully quiet and civilised. There’s even a noise cancelling button you can press, under the table, if the music distracts you, and you just want Raindrops playing. In fact, come sunset, if you are still tucked away in a corner, reading, you will mostly just hear seagulls and waves, as you drift away yourself, into your imagination, watching the sun set from our balcony, over a last cup. I do hope you had a wonderful time, and that you enjoyed the day. I hope you enjoy the novel as much as the novel time we spent together, too.
Well, that was a nice day. Think I’ll watch the stars come out before I wash those dishes, and clear up after the book launch guests. No hurry, after all. (smiles, and pulls up a seat, with a last cup of tea, to end the day).
You know when you’re in the mood to fight evil, and then the Queue seems just too long to bother with, so you leave it too late, then you figure, well I may as well stay in. No point now, right? It’s the big movie event the boys are all talking about, but the traffic’s just hell out there, is an excuse that all your friends will surely understand, or if they are particularly energetic, and just don’t get it that, baby, it’s cooollllddd outside, you could always pretend you were there, somewhere down the back of the Queue, while you tappity tap away, and bring up a nice good vs evil movie to watch from home instead, while pretending to be on the way, and just having some last minute issues with your google map, for finding your way down a straight highway. If you’re too lazy for even that much action, but managed to click once to get here, and haven’t worn yourself out too much, maybe you can manage one more click, to bring the battle to you.
A fun movie for a quiet night in. Who would think it evil, if you snuggled up tight as a Tootsie Roll in your favourite blankie, with the cosy feet built in, and your teddy for comfort, during the really scary bits, for this big battle between good and evil? It feels good to know you don’t even have to go out in the cold, to find out who wins that one.
Yeah. I’m at it again. Writing another book. To be more specific, the second part of “The Q Affaire”, which recently hit my little shop’s shelves over here. The second part can be read as a stand alone novel, or as a follower-upper, as we used to say, on de mean streets of Dublin libraries, when we were scoping out those shelves like secret spies, peering through books, pacing the aisles in anticipation of some new thrills to keep us off those same mean streets, our collars turned up, and hat brims dripping puddles as we stalked the tiled flooring, searching out a comfy spot to slump, with brims pulled low, to hide out from the rain for a while.
Yes, you guessed it. Book two’s a little moodier in atmosphere than the first novel, with the first part a comedy thriller with some psychological twists guaranteed to melt your head with madness, as well as keeping you in a sub-hysterical state of mild giggles throughout. I think you’ll find the second part sucks you into the heart of the maze pretty quickly though, and presents many interesting puzzles, and you’ll be sorry when you finally find your way out again, at the end of the book, after being amazed and dazed, for at least some of the rest of it, I would think.
No more Q for you, though, after that. Two books are quite enough, and although Q tries to lead you through an endless maze of confusing twists and turns, and keep you lost, and puzzled, my job is to help you escape it, and give you a map of the territory. Take my tiny paw in yours, then, and we’ll claw our way in, before taking the journey to finding the keys that let us solve the puzzle, and get out in one piece again, but let’s start with an insight into how the book’s being constructed. I’m just hammering it out now, you see, and you might like to see how the thing’s being constructed. Big bits of paper are terribly important, you know. Very. Highlighters, fun, but not essential. Good ideas a must. Well, you probably know what a plan is already, but might glean something of the plot from the themes and metaphors I explain, while trying not to give away too much of the workings of the plotline, when discussing my creative process for writing the book, here.
Q pushers are starting to notice that there are big bits of paper everywhere, as they stalk the thriller section of the library aisles, while I take up the round table with my square papers.
The MuppetOfOz employs his handy Wafflinator , to foil rational conversation yet again, then departs confidently with his pals from the office, earing sparkling, to see if the latte post lunch is frothier than the breakfast one, which put him in the bit of a mood, to start with. pic.twitter.com/752VqP4MVI
I think you’ll find “The Q Woo” a lot hotter a read, a less stale bake, and certainly less hackneyed affaire than what Q has evolved into, in his second part, somehow. He’s got a oddly dragging gait these days, is distictly wooly smelling from being out in the rain, and generally looking a bit down on his luck. Don’t feel too sorry for him, though, as he’s still got some company, even if the birds don’t fancy him any more, a few coins in his pockets from last payday, and he still can parley vous oh la la the lads and ladies over on other platforms, admittedly in less salubrious surroundings. His rag tag band of patriots soldier on in their fantasy world, between snoozes, and manage to forget how wet their socks are, until the librarian moves them on, come closing time, with the rest of us. Where we go one, we go all, huh? Breathe in, on the way out, ‘cos you don’t want the smell of Q pressin’ up on you.
The first part of the book, which came out at the end of Nov., 2020, can be purchased here, in digital formats, with instant download. The next part I’m crowdsourcing funding for, to publish as one big blockbuster, comprised of the two volumes together, in paperback Kindle format, after part 2 is released as a digital version, for those who read part 1, over on Etsy. You can read about what the funding goes on, not just getting it to paperback, but getting that all important ISBN number, and other important bits and bobs, on the main post, over there. So, hopefully, there’s something to appeal to everyone, format wise, without having to go to the library in the rain, although, who knows, it may hit the shelves there, some time, too. “The Q Woo” will hopefully have reached the completion stage, anyway, with all editing done, by April, 2021, and I’ll be sure to let you know, here, too, when part 2 is available to read on Etsy. A big adventure for 2021. The next part of the adventure started here, and you’re in on it, like a secret library spy! Shush!!!!
Seems Defango has latched onto some new narratives along the way, and teamed up with some new people, for his Hoggbelly and QSlayers campaigns. His old pals, like Cheri, his favourite mod and second mommie, have been left behind for a while, to hold his teeny fort, while he trots through a variety of airports, to escape a subpoena in the Aaron Rich (brother of Seth Rich) lawsuit. The subpoena caught up with him on the same day he managed to avoid falling in an alligator pit, after being nearly trodden on by an astronaut. An exciting holiday, then, for DefangoTV, and he’s been updating us from his hotel rooms, and trying to read those complicated legal documents. Seems the court wants him to hand over all his internet communications, and it all proves to be far more interesting than even the tall tales he and his subs have been putting about of late.
He’d had them well trained already, mind. Years of slavishly following made them dog-like in their devotion, and he set them loose on Twitter, to try to cut a swathe through any conversations anyone else might be having with Thomas, well armed with a Chronically inaccurate map, compiled by a buddy, on what Defango has taken to calling his “BlackTeam”, the maps produced are designed to point out who is on the “other side”, the “White Team”, I guess, although the map colours change regularly, as confusing “layers” are produced exhaustively, by Chronic, who clearly has a bumper pack of felt-tips and a ruler at his disposal, or at least a handy little appwhich helps you target people with precision-ishness, assuming you have a high enough IQ to be able to spell their twitter handle correctly. Defango left the spelling to Chronic, and the other work in his chat to others. They tried to slay my good name in chat, but failed in Twitter, where they couldn’t control the conversation, and all sorts of info about the Black Team started to emerge.I suspected already, since the impersonation phone call and murder allegations had been made against me, that Defango and crew had indeed gone to the dark side, but some of the characters that emerged from under their rocks on Twitter looked like they hadn’t seen the light of the sun in a long time. This tattooed terror, Lestat, I knew already, but some new and disturbing things emerged into the light, along with the tattoo, along with darker aspects of his video work.
Turns out that Lestat likes ’em young, and although the age limit is 16 in some parts of his native Mexico, I’m pretty sure it’s not quite this young. I had heard allegations on Twitter, during the back and forth spats with Defango’s cultish subs, over my refusal to participate in the rather vicious anti-Thomas Schoenberger “Hoggbelly” campaign, and receiving all kinds of insults, started to realise that the people I’d not known very well before, had been tweeting out stuff like this, when I had thought the creepy back tattoo and dark videos were quite enough to be dealing with, let alone having to find out this kind of thing.
While I was still reeling from the idea that Defango really didn’t care what type of folk he associated with (well, it didn’t come as that much of a surprise, but it wasn’t pleasant, finding out just how bad), I found more Nazis, Satanists, and Anarchists crawling about with them, than you could shake a stick at and say shoo. I’ve never had to report so many accounts before, for tweets I had directed my way, like Diane’s lovely friend Anna, who is a Nazi, and has other Nazi friends that wanted me to know how awful Jewish people are, and how ecologically sound Hitler was, in getting rid of quite a lot of them. Diane turned her on to the narrative about Thomas, that he was an awful person, and probably Jewish, and away she went, a woman on a mission.
Turned out that Diane had been recruiting anyone and everyone that would listen to her stories about Thomas, on Twitter, by telling them he was an abusive man, and she the victim of his terrible deeds. She also had a major crush on him still, it emerged in her voluminous tweets on the topic, although she’d never met him. She begged to be unblocked by him, in tweets, before continuing on to berate and denigrate him to anyone she could get to listen.
I came in for a lot of her tirades, as she was convinced that I’d been up to some kind of jiggery pokery with him (though I’d never met him either), which she’d obviously wished she’d been up to herself, the general tenor of her tweets making it obviously that sex was on her mind a lot.
She wasn’t the only lady friend that was giving me what for on social media; back at the ranch, on YouTube, there I was, innocently commenting under a video, when who should spring out of the bushes, but Elizabeth Vering, and she was in a fit of hysterics as well, or at least put me into one with her complaints, as I couldn’t help posting this dittyin reply, though I suspect she’s more the romantic poetry type. I don’t think people will ever really appreciate my sense of humour as much as I do myself, somehow. I had to apologize to the channel owner for the mess in his comments, and back out gracefully, picking leaves from my attire as I retreated, smiling, and luckily, free of any scratches from the prickly bits.
The channel owner had the wit to remove the comments, as they were entirely unrelated to the content of the video, but I, of course, kept them, for my own amusement, and yours. The threat made me giggle, since I know her love of poetry, expressed in rambling comments under various Sofia Musik videos of Thomas’s, and I imagined she might wish to bore me to death with some epic poetry, perhaps Milton’s “Paradise Lost“.
Back on Twitter, the not so epic battle continued to rage, and there were tears tantrums on that rage therapy couch known as Defango’s channel, with everyone in a funk, and Lestat advising Defango to be smarter (how could he, one wonders, since he claims an IQ of over 200?), and say less. I wonder how he’s going to do that, now that everything he’s said over the last while will be all out there anyway? Maybe Cheri can perform some “emotional alchemy”, as she promised me in comments. She’s very keen on that sort of thing , with this the book she’ll use, from her single volume playlist.
OMG! After a little turbulence, covered in the important decoding updates below ( don’t try to do this on your own, as decoding without paying a chartered Q expert can scramble your brain impulses forever), Q is back in force, and has a huuuuuge MOAB to drop. A whole book, “The Q Affaire”, which promises to make sense of everything, or die waiting. Read it, to keep trusting the plan ( holds grifting bucket out). Remember, Future proves past, and that sort of thing.
There’s been a lot of speculation around, about who is Q, where is Q, and what is Q? If you don’t know already, it might be too late, as rumour has it that Q is dead as a dodo, or at best, on his last legs. Some buzz still abounds on Twitter, however, and on the Tubes, as it’s said that Q and some of the team might be just taking a likkle break from the rigours of fighting the deep state, and the evil Cabal. Qdrops aren’t coming as thick and fast as they used to, but it seems Q’s movements are being reported, and the blockage in drops might be clearing at last, after a turbulent time on the move.
Some think Q is posting again, but he did say no outside comms. (see, I do follow Q!), so these latest drops seem a little dubious, for some reason. Perhaps I need to wait for a special decode, from a Q approved source.
Well, I’m not taking any chances. If I don’t see it where Q says it should be posted (no outside comms., as Q always sez), I won’t jump to any conclusions too hastily. It could be some joker messing about. Darn shills everywhere, and Q’s no laughing matter. As Q puts it, so well too, do your own research, and Question everything.
Anyone who read the strange story of my online romantic entanglement with the man who was insisting he is Q, the shadowy operative that is helping Trump from behind the scenes, will be eager to know if there were any new developments. Everyone loves a happy ending, or at least an ending that makes sense, and I’m here to give you some closure, dear reader. If you’ve no idea what I’m rambling on about, the best place to start is to read my last post, or just watch the movie of the mess that is the norm in my love life. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, but I hope you’ll find it entertaining, at least.
The cutie pictured here, it turns out, is a man called Ross Mills, although it took me a while to find out that the man claiming to be Q, who told me his real name was Jack Quinlan, wasn’t the man in the pictures he provided me, that he said were of him. Mr. Mills, it turns out, was a Rifleman in the A Company in The Royal Marines, pictured here in Helmand, Afganistan, in 2011. The photographer, Alison Baskerville won a portrait award for this piece, and I eventually found it online, using Bing instead of my usual search engines. Who knew Bing would ever return a decent search result? It seems “Jack” just has the same good taste in guys as myself, not surprising, since he made sure to find out as much as he possibly could about me, while we were having our little tête a têtes in Twitter. He told me little about himself, ‘cos he was waaay deep undercover, working for Trump, but he did tell me the following bit about his head injury, received in childhood, after which he became something of a prodigy, whose talents made him an indispensable asset to the NSA, and which enabled him to download to his mind all the information that would help him become the genius that created the puzzles which kept the internet solvers working away for years.
A retelling in YouTube comments of “Jack’s” story. From this video.
Life is full of surprises, and Jack had told a lot of tall tales over the course of the six months we were in a foxhole in Twitter Direct Messages together, so when it started to smell fairly funky in there, I started digging my way back up to the surface, but the more I questioned everything, as Q had reminded me to do, the more he leaned on me to keep quiet, telling me that enemies were everywhere, and if I stuck my head above the parapet, and shot my mouth off, that I wouldn’t make it out in one piece, as the whole QArmy would aim their weapons in my direction (helpful hint to guys, never tell a woman anything you don’t want the world to know, and for goodness sake, don’t tell her not to talk at all, particularly if you’ve p*ssed her off).
Having been somewhat involved in Discordian groups in Facebook, I was aware of the Cicada3301 puzzle, and through Jack became more familiar with some of the issues discussed in the Q posts. Jack liked a puzzle as much as I did, cross words being one of his favourite type of expressions in many of our comms., and he certainly gave me hell when I didn’t agree with everything that was said in the Qdrops.
Schrödy having a big ol’ time as Q, in my comment section.
He often pumped me for what I made of this or that post, or quizzed me about whether I had read and researched the links he’d provided in chat, asking me questions, sometimes telling me I’d failed or passed the test he’d set for me. I had my own test for him, after he’d provided me with photos he’d said he had taken inside the White House, on Christmas Eve (2018), some inside the Oval Office, others in the corridors, and North portico. Up until then, we had been talking on all sorts of topics, and puzzles were just one of his many interests, but after he threatened the wrath of the Q army descending upon me, when I didn’t seem to be getting down with the Plan convincingly enough for him, I took a look at some of the materials he gave me, and came to the inescapable conclusion that I had fallen prey to the man who likes a laugh at other people’s expense.
Certainly all roads seemed to point to Rome, or all fingers to Thomas. Time was running out for some of his special ops too, it seemed, if some of the videos exposing the players around him were to be believed.
A lot of folk on our end of the Tubes had been giving him the middle finger for a while now, but then he’s a guy that had a finger in a lot of pi[es] himself, so he’s hardly surprised that fingers are getting pointed in his direction now.
Now, while I wouldn’t have minded THIS guy’s fingers on me all that much (yep, one of the photos Jack/Q/John the titlover Thomas sent me, that he claimed were of himself [snorts with laughter at the idea of a man with a bod like this wanting to rub shoulders, or anything else against me without pressing the KILLSWITCH to UNBOLT, and fast!]), I’m not sure that Tricky Thomas would have scored such a hit. Pause and admire, ladies.
Thomas the Tank shows off his Q pants at the gym
Compare and contrast.
The avatar sometimes known as Schrödinger’s cat on YouTube, as well as a huge variety of other identities, in lots of places, is still weaving his magic and spinning it for all he’s worth, with new messages arriving from different accounts every time I open my Email, and of course, not forgetting the Skype account that appeared in my Contacts window, that segued before my eyes, from his Lion username into his imaginary NSA boss maggie mcrbee’s account, before finally settling into the ready for further use Your Name.
Your Name (previously maggie and Lion) last message on Skype before blocking
junoanon Email 22nd March 2019
I particularly like how consistent he’s being with his narrative, in the latest one, while making to disappear into the ether, but keep a bridge open for me, coming and going like a quantum rainbow cat (too many mixed metaphors? Licking a rainbow for too long’ll do that to you, and Q is the source of much confusion, which many are trying to get to the bottom to, coming up with various theories about who the Q team are), so I can hold handies and cross the rainbow bridge into the imaginary but colourful future with him. Maybe it’s just as well that the rainbow retreats as you approach it, after all; it’s tempting to live in dreams, when they are so sweet. But you don’t need 42 degrees to your name to figure out that there’s no such thing as a free lunch, and you must pay for your pleasures. In fact, you accused me of wanting payment for keeping my mouth shut about what you were up to. Oh, and don’t forget to bring a towel with you , on your travels, as you’ll probably need it. That road to the rainbow can be darn dusty, without a car. Even with, you’ll need to bring a gas can with you. Just in case.
The answer to everything with spelling mistake, unintentional [ON THE MOVE] Q
Bonus Material: A puzzle to help you combat that ever-lurking evening ennui., instead of the crosswords you often lose yourself in. With Thomas the forever young Time Traveller the time is sure to fly by. Can you help him find B, by 2020, so he can pop the Question? You would really be helping him out, ‘cos I get the distinct impression that he’s between girlfriends at the moment.
Jack’s been tweeting out my private DMs to him as well, to, wait for it, Potus (‘cos he’s Q, an’ all, and they work together, you know). His couple of followers? puzzlepalace, and, drumroll, Thomas. Guess he’s his own biggest fanclub, and still is pretty hung up on me. Some folks find it hard to let go.
In the interest of fairness, I should include Thomas’s interview about the matter of Jack/Q. To sum up, in brief, he knows the guy’s name, is in contact with him, is fine with him, and wants to prove the Emails are from different addresses, was my take on it. But watch it for yourself, and make like Q. Question everything, and eat your hat if you’re wrong about predictions (well, no, I don’t think Q ever said that, I just made it up now).
Thomas’s recent tweets that signalled the start of the smear campaign he promised (see has comments below this post), have been deleted by him, as a conciliatory gesture, and the truce declared. Let’s hope that Q comes out of the foxhole and gives up soon too.
Latest update, Nov., 2019: Jack finally admits he’s Thomas, in his Schoenberger ‘s cat avatar, under one of Thomas’s videos! He says he doesn’t care who knows it, so now you know. Who cares?
More comments Jack made under the same video (original video on which comments appeared linked in the previous image, above) This video with a selection of the comments is from the channel of the husband of the woman he is commenting about.
Others are enjoying the idea of Thomas being a bit of a crazy cat guy, too, and came up with their own imaginative ideas of how Thomas the cat might look, while scampering about over the keys, typing away in comments. The link ends in an 8. Jack’s lucky number! Do the happy dance there, puss.
Everyone’s wondering who Q is, while I’m wondering who the guy I was having an online relationship with for the last six month is. I still don’t know for sure, but he’s always maintained to me that he’s Q, the anonymous poster on 8Chan, said to be working with Trump, to educate the MAGAs as to what shenanigans are going on behind the curtains that we don’t usually get to peep behind. This guy turned up on my YouTube channel last year, and was quite the charmer. We headed off into the sunset, towards the Twitter machine, to talk, and we got to know each other a lot better. To be fair, he found out far, far more about me, than he told me about himself (for security reasons, of course). He did tell me, however, that his name was Jack Quinlan, (using middle name instead of first name, ‘cos he was deep, deep undercover, working with the President, to bring down the evil deep state cabal).
I talk about the grand finale to my big online relationship with the man that calls himself Q, in this livestream, and the great man himself joins me, to give his side of the story, and react to my allegations. Expect to see photos of the cutie that calls himself Q, and hear some inside gossip about what we got up to in our virtual relationship. I also discuss some of the biggest fibs he’s ever told, including those White House photos he gave me from the important meeting he had with the President in The Oval Office, last Christmas Eve, that Q and friends made such a big palava about, and drove the Qposts fans mad with delight. I discuss how we had that little lover’s tiff when it turned out the photos were faked, and how I found out a lot of what he was up to was built on a series of interlocking lies, and how I struggled to put the picture together of the man, in order to make my way out of the rabbit holes he dug for me. Maybe he’s right, I’m just the jealous type, but I do believe that honesty is always the best policy. There was a bit of cursing in this next video, ‘cos I was arguing with him in chat, suspecting all sorts of rats in the foxhole, and starting to put info out about what I thought he was at, and bout the threat he’d made about those QAnons coming after me, armed with all sorts of info, to help them target me for their attentions, sent by Q.
Jack Quinlan/Q uses the Stonehenge Puzzle Email address, which has never been traced to anyone before, and also claims responsibility for the original John Titor posts (I’m sure his last online squeeze, Pamela Moore, who never got to meet him in real life either, but was as familiar with the heartache of an online relationship as me, will take an interest in the photos of him which he provided to me, in place of any plan to actually meet me in person). I discuss these and other aspects of the strange relationship we conducted on the internet, including the threats he made to bring the wrath of the QArmy against me, should I fall out of step with the march he was trying to set the pace for.
Jack Quinlan/Q [?] in Afghanistan [second photo – Solved. Photographer credit here]
I did fall rather out of line, in this video, and broke the silence to share some of his information with my viewers. I shared about Q, and other mysteries of the internet, far too much to cover in one post, but at least I’ve managed to explain the tip of the iceberg in this stream.
Jack scrambled into damage limitation mode after the photos conversation, and kept asking me what else did I know about him? Seemed quite rattled, actually, which I was not too guilty about, since he’d threatened me previously with the wrath of an online army of loyal Q followers. I still don’t really know whether the guy I was having the relationship with online is actually this guy, who referred to himself as Jack Quinlan, saying that was his real name, kept secret to protect Q’s identity, but if it isn’t, I’m sure this guy will be pretty cheesed off his photos have been whipped, appropriated by Q, or whoever the hell that person I was in love with actually is. Whoever you are, I’d still rate you a 12 out of 10 in the cute department! But don’t contact me online. I think I’ll give online relationships a miss from now on. But if you want any of this guy’s contact details, he’s still reachable at the following places, as well as being keen for people to Email him.
A selection of Jack Quinlan’s Twitter Accounts; some others he posted under when he took these down frequently were @schrQdingerscat, @tinkertailQr, @thestQrrn @airamdoc @thestorm [no wonder he chose Schrodinger’s cat as one of his YouTube avatar names, as he has so many lives!]
Jack Quinlan/Q at Lympstone Commando Training Centre, Wales [fourth photo – still unsolved]
Bye Jack. I think we’ve finally come to the end of our fling now. Consider this your Dear John letter. I’ll always treasure our special time together. I’ll probably throw out the cockroach book you sent me after you were blocked on my social media accounts, but I’ll cherish the keepsakes and have the photos you supplied to keep our virtual memories alive.
(Takes last lingering look at photos, wipes a tear away, and shuffles off to make a cup of tea, slamming cabinet door. BOOM!). I’m sure your Q friends can help you get over the break-up. I see you popped over to a buddy’s channel directly after I ended the stream, to cry on his shoulder, and manage the situation. Gosh, I hope your top level security clearance isn’t too compromised. You sound so worried. Oh well, I’m sure you’ll get over it. I know I will, after I calm down. After all, no point fighting over a storm in a teacup. And a cup of tea fixes everything (finds teabags, and proceeds to pour).
Update: New developments. Find out who the mystery man really is, in my next post, plus more exciting finds……..
Mark Zuckerberg is a guy that puts a lot of work into how the company he founded is perceived. His versionand other people’s versions tend to diverge on some rather relevant issues, and now at least some of the horrible truth is becoming more obvious to the general user of the Facebook, and Facebook are having to scramble to re-invent the services they offer, as well as alter the demographic they target for their attentions, in an effort to keep the sinking ship afloat. Social media giants like Facebook have all sorts of dirty tricks up their sleeves to keep users on board, and the psychology of marketing isn’t the only source of their power, as they hold such huge sway over our behaviour, so it stands to reason that they have many friends in high places too. How can we ever truly be free, if we don’t really take a hard look at what these platforms’ purposes are (and like all my posts, I must point out that I don’t endorse uncritically everything that’s proposed in the following video, as I’m an individual, with my own views, and not a demographic, but I do think the video frames the discussion points, which could be explored further by users of social media)?
Remember the official story of how Facebook started? It all sounded so cosy and friendly, didn’t it? People coming together, and sharing, with Mark the bright spark helping us all to shine.
Sorry Zucky, but your lies suck, and you blow. This isn’t real life, as we know it, and you ain’t the captain of our ship. More and more long time users of Facebook have jumped ship, and are swimming for shore.
We hoping you sink with the ship, and all the rats below deck drown with you. We see you, trying to bail the ship out with buckets, and we hope your true toxic face becomes more obvious to the new users you are trying to drive mad, by pretending to be their bestest friend ever, arranging to meet them in other places at a convenient time, a helpful app, providing a hug in the form of a thumbs up. Well, it’s a Thumbs Down to you, with no hug, from us. We’re so sorry Mark. Honest.