It’s No Game

Anyone who reads my blog regularly will already be pretty familiar with this lady, who runs an endless Con she sells as the Truth. She’s kept on  truckin’ for over a year now, and the narrative has taken some twists along the way, with anyone who tries to use the other lane getting side-swiped or just plain run over by her inventive fictions and colourful language, all geared towards adding her perceived enemies to the story of the international stalker gang that’s pursuing her for her secrets (told nightly in detail) about the conspiratorial workings of paint factories, unions and cults of all types. Oh,  and murder plots.

Hello World. You are all in a death cult!

Lately, she’s garnered a new fanbase, made up of those who love stories, and wish to borrow some for their own ends, and others, who just like a laugh, and a drug free trip with the steamroller Convoy. Lately, she’s taken to Twitter to follow the fun, as others who joined the con convoy, hoping for a free ride on the tailgate of the lies, are tweeting away like mad, about stuff she really cares about. Emails. Yeah. Doesn’t sound exciting, does it? Some, though, like Denise, have an obsession with discovering who owns a particular address on the interwebs. One that she wouldn’t block, as you or I would, when we don’t want to write back.

It’s not a game, folks. These people aren’t really pretending to be mad. They actually are; it’s a Truth Community thing. You just wouldn’t get it, unless you’d lived it, but lemmie explain how this Bedlam ward of YouTube is run. It runs on lies, and if you aren’t a liar, the inmates get very worked up indeed, and you will find them turning on you, in droves. Or should I say, convoys. Maybe I’m the crazy one in a mad, mad world, because I keep telling the truth, even when nobody in the asylum will listen, even though I don’t have the word Truth emblazoned across my channel name, in an effort to convince people that I haven’t just been turning the truth on its head, to steamroller people into wanting to get off the Tube, so I can tell tall tales to the other inmates. I’ve been assigned to the back office, where I take notes on the patients, and make sure the drugs are locked up (though a few channels seem to have managed to forge the keys, as the opiates levels are constantly dwindling).

It’s a solitary life, but I don’t mind it. Once the patients are (b)locked up in their own wards, they aren’t any serious danger to anyone else, and they scrawl happily on their walls, with only the odd mumble heard down the corridor. My filing cabinet is stuffed though, and I find I must re-organize. Perhaps you could lend a hand, seeing as how you dropped in, or just put the kettle on, while I’m clearing up. Nice cuppa tea makes the medicine go down, I hear. Or is it sugar? You won’t find much sugar in the tweets I’ve got to go through, but you’ll spit your tea out, laughing. Here we go then (opens the cabinet of horrors labelled Corsi Emails).

Now, this is inmate No. 23’s favourite cabinet. Denise is obsessed with the “Corsi Email” in which she was cc-ed, months and months ago. She used to fancy Jerome Corsi somethin’ rotten, after Roy Potter lost his place on her pinup wall of her cell. Now she decided that the Jack Quin that signed the Email simply must be this Jack Quinn, based on a Google search of the name (spelling close enough, right?). And he is silver haired and attractive, and most of all, “impor-an'”, as she likes to say, in her best Boston/Texas crossover accent, Everything’s impor-an’ in Denise’s mind, and everything involves the gang that’s been stalking her, for oh, forever.
We have lots more files in the cabinet, ‘cos she toted the Email around all the cells on the ward, to get the other inmates involved. Several have now got the same obsession, and are tweeting all around the corridors, about the sender, whose identity changes constantly. Sometimes s/he’s a guy called Brian, sometimes Jack, sometimes Tom, sometimes he’s even on Twitter, disguised as a vet, serving as the alter-ego of one of the inmates who believes that you can be more than one person at a time.

The Twitter profile of fake Jack, hmmm, wonder who came up with that tall tale?

Sometimes you have to humour the inmates, so when I’m not in the office, de-cluttering the cabinets I play along, nodding and smiling to all and sundry. They can get quite ratty if you don’t pretend that this is the normal world, after all. When this one, who just won’t take her calming meds, insists that an Australian vet is a858, I don’t point out that that’s actually her cell number, I just say, yes dear, and walk her back to her bunk, or if it’s not lock-up time, the recreational lounge, where she can mingle, and gossip with her friends. I leave it to the porters to break up fights, and go back to the office, locking the door behind me, in case they try to break in, to get at the opiates again.
Sometimes they play word games, or argue about pi (OCD patients in particular), but always the story told about the darn Email address changes. One minute it’s here, one minute there. It’s him. No it’s her. Honestly, these people could argue about anything, or nothing at all. They don’t seem to want to settle on a version; I suppose the days are long, and you have to pass them somehow, but they will keep sneaking into to the nurses’ lounge when they’re fagged out from a hard day herding nuts, and accessing the computer to send secret messages out to their Email fixations. The target of their fixation got so fed up with the endless stream of fruit and nut mails, that they replied with a missive that added even more confusion to the already confused recipients.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Does Bye bye mean more?

Now, just as misery loves company, this inmate had some friends, like the guy that identifies as a vampire, playing along with the tale, until the Email fecked it up for them, and sent them into a spin. I’m afraid I got a little short too, as they’d been at the medicine cabinet at midnight again, and I wasn’t happy to have to get a new key cut for the third time that week. I enjoyed the tweets they’d posted up so much, I teased them gently, about all their stories, and nodded away for all I was worth. Nod, and smile. Yes, dear. Back to your cell, now. Yes. I know.

An Australian vet that does puzzles, and is a composer too, living in America, that might be a transgender person, and that person you were talking to on Twitter’s just a liar. OK then. You know? How? Oh, I see, your vampire friend googled a858 and something about pi puzzles came up, right after the Lenovo phone result. And Denise says he’s in a murder gang, and is called Brian as well as Thomas and Jack with two nns. And Pi has a lot of numbers in it, sooooo……(rolls eyes, feeling headache coming on. How I resist the lure of the medicine cabinet myself, I don’t know).

Just smile and nod. Time to go home soon.

Confused? Yeah, you will be, after emerging from a day at the office, here. And there’s no telling these people; they don’t want the truth. It’s not as interesting to them as the tall tales.

Time to scan the online ads, and see if there’s an easier way to earn a living. Oh, cripes! They’ve been at my computer too. Now I’ll have to change the locks on my office again, for the 4th blinkin’ time this WEEK!

Defango’s Vacation From Reality

Defango Pinocchio

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 app which 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.

bat tattoo lestat
Lestat the vampire shows his wings

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.
Lestat tweetWhile 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.
Anna tweet jewish gangstalker

Nazi Tweet
Diane’s pal tweets her feelings about Jewish people

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.

Diane Nordstrum death threat

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.
Diana Nordstrum Viagra

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 ditty in 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“.

Elizabeth Vering threat comment
Elizabeth vague threat

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.

Cheri comment and reply

Deep Marketing – #thegame23 and Q

I had a spur of the moment notion last night. I thought, dammit, I’m gonna do another livestream, ‘cos I like where the Q conversation is going, and I got some things to say. They might seem to be taking a rather jaundiced view of Q, but I’m not known for being a yellow-belly, so I took the plunge, and after a quick smoke and scribble on a sticky pad, had my topics organised, and was good to go.

SalDaliDiscordia
Discordian Tweets

Marketing, dull, dull, dull. But relevant to the topic, particularly the subject of deep marketing techniques, in relation to the YouTube (and perhaps, now, more main stream trending topic of Q). If you don’t know who the heck Q is, start here, and work your way back to me, ‘cos you are coming in at the tail end of the story. If you are familiar with the Q phenomenon, you might get a different perspective from my livestream chat (lecture, to be honest) about it, streamed over about an hour and a half. I tell you the order of topics in the beginning, so you can skip to the bit you are interested in if you are stuck for time, however, the topics are interrelated, so they make sense when the whole video is watched. Hope you find something of interest to aid you in your Q search for truth. UPDATE: The Discordians latest attempts to conflate Q, Cicada and thegame23, in accordance with the LARPing nature of the movement’s stated aims of turning everything anyone ever believed into such confusing nonsense that all of reality becomes a gluey soup where your mind gets stuck forever, making you incapable of distinguishing reality from fiction, and they get to laugh their socks off at meta-intellectual they are being. Truly nasty people, who don’t care what damage is done to people’s sense of reality, or what damage is done to other’s genuine projects, as they claim credit for the work of others, in order to carry out their OperationMindf*ck plans.

Facebook Discordian groups list
Some of the many Discordian groups in Facebook

 

My recent tweets about Discordia and thegame23, and replies