Quote:The U.S. government is prepping for a potential onslaught of Iranian cyberattacks in retaliation for support for Israel in its conflict with Hamas.

It’s far from just Israel at risk of cyberattacks from the Hamas-aligned regime’s cyber operatives, U.S. officials say. They also see the U.S. and other nations that support the Israeli government as likely targets.

Such attacks could take the form of attempting to damage critical systems like water or electricity, would likely involve widespread disinformation efforts and could also involve proxies to keep Iran’s fingerprints off the incidents.

“The cyber targeting of American interests and critical infrastructure that we already see conducted by Iran and non-state actors alike we can expect to get worse if the conflict expands, as will the threat of kinetic attacks,” FBI Director Christopher Wray testified to the Senate Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Committee on Tuesday.

Multiple U.S. federal agencies have stressed that they have yet to see any intelligence suggesting that Iran is planning an imminent attack on U.S. critical infrastructure. But they’re on heightened alert and hoping that new defenses they created after Russia invaded Ukraine — which brought worries about cyberattacks in the U.S. to the fore — will be able to adapt and grow to accommodate threats on multiple fronts.

Iran backs a network of sophisticated cyber operators, akin to those that work with Russia and China, who have the capacity to tunnel into government systems and or disable companies’ entire computer networks. Tehran has launched attacks in the U.S. in the past, but the risk is far higher and more serious in light of the conflict in Gaza.

Tehran has long funded Hamas and other Pro-Palestinian groups. And since the Oct. 7 attacks by Hamas on Israel, Iran-backed armed groups in the Middle East have launched drone attacks against U.S. forces in Iraq and Syria.

“I could envision the possibility — we have to be prepared for this — of an effort to attack our critical infrastructure or our electric grid, our, for example, air traffic system, water,” said Michael Chertoff, the former secretary of Homeland Security under the Bush administration.

A DHS official, speaking anonymously to reporters as a condition of a briefing last month, said that in the days following the Oct. 7 attack by Hamas militants on Israel, DHS held a call with the FBI and other agencies with “almost 4,000 law enforcement officials” throughout the country to discuss any potential physical or cyber threats stemming from the conflict.

The official declined to provide details on those dangers, but said the agency is “actively monitoring” the situation in Israel for threats to the U.S. homeland.

DHS’s Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency — which would take the lead in any response — said it has stepped up its efforts to monitor for a new wave of cyberattacks against U.S. critical infrastructure following the Oct. 7 strike. Eric Goldstein, executive director for Cybersecurity at CISA, said in a statement that the agency has been in “continuous coordination with our Israeli partners since the horrific terrorist attacks.”

A spokesperson for CISA said that the agency is updating a warning system created in the wake of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine to bolster defenses against Iranian cyberattacks. That program — called Shields Up — provides cybersecurity recommendations and guidance manuals to critical infrastructure operators about how to protect their networks against potentially destructive cyberattacks.

The CISA spokesperson said that the agency is working to update its Shields Up website to reflect new threats from Iran amid the conflict in Israel and Gaza, including “updating the guidance” on the website as needed. The individual was granted anonymity to provide details that had not been released to the public.

Senate Intelligence Chair Mark Warner (D-Va.) said he wants to see CISA doing more. Warner said he is “always concerned about Iran’s misintentions,” and said he is looking for “answers” on whether CISA is “reinvigorating” the Shields Up program to address the conflict. Rachel Cohen, a spokesperson for Warner, said that the senator was referring to a proposal put forward by CISA’s Cybersecurity Advisory Committee in September recommending that the agency create a 24/7 national cyber alert system.

CISA’s Goldstein stressed that Shields Up is a key part of the strategy: “We remain on heightened alert and will urgently share relevant information, to include by leveraging our nationwide Shields Up campaign as necessary.”

A spokesperson for the Office of the National Cyber Director declined to comment on what steps are being taken to defend against Iranian attacks, while a spokesperson for the White House National Security Council did not respond to repeated requests for comment.


The DHS official said it is also sharing threat information with a range of outside groups that could be targeted by Iranian cyberattacks, including religious organizations. Specifically, the official said DHS is providing information to the Faith-Based Information Sharing and Analysis Organization, which monitors threats to a range of U.S. religious groups.

The FB-ISAO raised its cyber threat level to “elevated” last week. The group wrote in a blog post that it had received reports of the websites of U.S. religious organizations being defaced in connection to the conflict and that hackers taking over online meetings or social media accounts was more likely.

Iran has demonstrated its hacking capabilities against U.S. organizations before. Iranian nationals were indicted last year for an attempted cyberattack on Boston Children’s Hospital, and Iran was also linked to efforts to interfere in the 2020 U.S. presidential election through stealing sensitive U.S. voting data and using it to spread disinformation.


Tehran has also been particularly quick to hit back against cyberattacks on Iranian organizations. That could mean that if Israel or its allies decide to strike on Iran’s networks as part of the offensive against Hamas, Iran could quickly move to counterstrike in a similar way.

In testimony to a House Homeland Security Committee hearing last week, Atlantic Council fellow and Middle East expert Thomas Warrick warned lawmakers to beware of Iran’s “peculiar sense of symmetry” in responding to cyberattacks by the United States.

He noted that when U.S. linked malware deleted data computers at Iranian oil and natural gas ministries in 2012, Iranian-linked groups responded with a massive cyberattack on Saudi Arabia’s Saudi Aramco oil company.

“Cyber-threats from Iran are certain and ongoing,” Warrick noted in his written testimony. “This is an area where Iran could pull off a strategic surprise.”

At that hearing, members on both sides of the aisle highlighted Iranian cyberthreats as a particular worry for the United States amid the Israel-Hamas conflict.

“The Iranian regime is becoming more determined and more adept at its malicious activities,” Committee Chair Mark Green (R-Tenn.) said during the hearing.

And officials and lawmakers alike warn that preparations need to be happening now.

“There may not be specific information or intelligence about an attack yet, but you don’t necessarily wait until that happens,” Chertoff said.

I did wonder about "The Ukraine" and now it's explained...

Quote:Seeing The Light On This All Holy Entities’ Day

November 1, 2023 / Joseph P. Farrell

I frankly, freely, and honestly confess that I have been entirely wrong about a particular thing, over which through the years I've endlessly fussed, and that issue, and my sudden illumination and change of heart and mind was brought about by this friendly and deeply insightful post on this website's forum:

Quote:Considering that and taking into account that on one occasion the Doctor JPF mentioned that each nation or people has precisely and only for that nation an Archangel in charge or obligated for,implying that under the command of that Archangel are also numerous angels in charge of , or obligated for each person or individual separately, I wonder and ask myself and all of you folks here ,what all those Archangels and angels are doing right now if anything, in the context of the current wars in Ukraine and Israel?

And no I am not saying The Ukraine deliberately just as I will not say The Israel on purpose, or The USA for that matter.

All of a sudden, the thick clouds of grammatical darkness that had long laid over my heart began to dissipate, and suddenly, I began to understand why people like John "Ketchup" Kerry or Senator Lindsey Grahamcracker were so insistent on calling that country simply "Ukraine" and not, as I and countless archaic generations had been taught, "The Ukraine."

Emboldened by my new-found illumination courtesy of this absolutely and totally persuasive argument, I began to see that the whole issue boils down to "The Ukraine" being like "The Israel". Why, it was simply a matter of common usage. No one says the latter, and it's perfectly clear why: there is some sort of "rule" in the English language  - woops, I meant simply, "English language" (patience, I'll get the hang of it eventually!) - that says this is good English, and that's bad English.  I decided to look up the matter of why and when "The Ukraine" became simply Ketchup Kerry and Lindsey Grahamcracker's "Ukraine".  I found this;

Why Did "The Ukraine" Become Just "Ukraine"?

Here we read the following:

Quote:Until a few decades ago, Ukraine was almost always referred to as the Ukraine. Then people started dropping the definite article, and now you almost never see it. What gives?
The the has stirred up a lot of strong resentment in Ukraine. The feeling is that the definite article’s heavy use during the era of the Soviet Union by Russians and Westerners alike belittled, intentionally or not, Ukrainians, and demoted Ukraine from a country unto itself to a mere Soviet holding, a border region of the U.S.S.R.
...
Since Ukraine gained independence from the Soviet Union, use of the article has declined steadily, in part because of the Ukrainian government expressing their preference for dropping it. In the Google ngram searches below, you can see the Ukraine fall and Ukraine rise (sharply) right around the country’s declaration of independence in 1991, both in reference to the country, and (more so) to things in it.
Today, the Ukraine is considered antiquated and insulting, and using it in well-informed company is a bad idea.

Suddenly the scales fell from my eyes, my heart was turned from a heart of stone into a heart of flesh, the fog on my mind cleared completely. The "the" in "the Ukraine" had dropped because the government of the Ukraine - woops, sorry! Old habits die hard! - found it offensive.  I'm a little confused about the statement "Since Ukraine gained independence from the Soviet Union, use of the article has declined steadily in part because of the (sic) Ukrainian government expressing their preference for dropping it", because it was my understanding that the Ukrainian and Russian languages have no definite or indefinite articles, as in Sovietski Soyuz Socialistichestnik Respubliki, no "the" in "the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics" in Russian. So how could they have called it "the" Ukraine? I'm confused.

But I get principle: we should adjust grammar of language of us to suit feelings and dictates of another culture and government and of grammar of language of them. In fact, our insistence on flouting our definite and indefinite article privilege on cultures and languages of them which being constantly deprived of such grammatical conveniences is really a case of cultural colonialism and I would aver, White Patriarchy and Male Privilege. We should, on contrary, abandon use of definite and indefinite articles everytime everywhere and always in everyday speech and writing of us to accommodate Russian and Ukrainian speaking brethren and sistern of us to see exactly how they feel having been denied definite and indefinite articles.  Of course, we are going to have to "slavophilicize" language of us to accommodate this process. For example, Shakespeare, who is already so outmoded and archaic and yesterday, is going to have to get a thorough cleaning and updating of language of him.  In process of this Slaviphilification of English, we must also be careful to avoid other grammatical privileges such as infinitival forms of  verb "to be", and Shakespeare falls far short here as well.  While we are at this project, we might as well rid him of those archaicisms and ways that people no longer talk and give word people use now in places of words people used then.

We are all familiar with these lines (and oh how it pains me now to write them):

Quote:To be or not to be - that is the question -
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer (oh boy are we in deep doodoo)
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them? To die, to sleep,
No more, and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to,
'tis a consummation
devoutly to be wished.

Well, this will never do, because those lines are just chock full of definite articles, infinitives, and all sorts archaic words and expressions no one uses any more and which deprive Russian and Ukrainian speaking brethren and sistern of us of enjoyment of Shakespeare. (And while we're at it, is it just me or has anyone noticed that even name "Hamlet" is very insulting to Muslim and Jewish brethren and sistern  of us, since they can't have pork, and thus might not be able to enjoy Shakespeare's "Hamlet"? We should not change his/her/its name to "Beeflet," because that would be insulting and exclusive to Hindus, because cows are to them sacred. So I propose, in keeping with play's Scandinavian setting, that his/her/its name be "Swedonormarklet", so as not to be exclusive of Norway and Sweden in play's otherwise complete Danocentrism.)  So here is modest proposal for updating and Slaviphilification of these lines of him:

Quote:Being or not, that is question; whether it's better in brain putting up with projectiles and munitions of dumb luck, or getting armaments against churning ocean, and by total warfare, end them? Dying, sleeping, those things no more; and by sleeping saying we end sores on heart and thousand natural concussions that flesh having putting up with in life, it's end for intensely thinking and hoping.

Granted, that's little wooden, but I'm sure that with enough tweaking, we can get it past all departments of censorship everywhere. We must beware of offending anyone because of grammatical assumptions and rules of language of us. And because all conventions of all languages are probably offensive to someone somewhere, it's best not saying anything at all on anything ever. Granted, it is of piece with thinking reality changing or sex changing by insisting on made-up pronouns everyone else must use.

Or we can do the obvious, simple, and far less confusing thing, and tell the government of the Ukraine that it has no jurisdiction over the grammar of the English language, and neither do Ketchup Kerry or Lindsey Grahamcracker, and to man up, and take those definite articles in stride.

So, yes, I'm sticking with the Netherlands, the United States, the USA, the Philippines, the United Kingdom, the Ukraine, and India, Japan, Australia, Palestine, and Israel, because that's the way the English works.

Hi all. 
I hope everyone is doing well and had a great Halloween 

Yesterday my brother went to the ER and was admitted to a hospital for colon problems. 
His colon had knotted in on itself (can't rememeber the term ) and they corrected it through a colonopsy .
He will need another colonopsy (spelling sorry) on Friday and possibly surgery.

His surgeon thinks it's a 50% chance of it happening again within a year without surgery. So he will need surgery as well.

And not only do we have the stress/worries of this medical situation, we also need to worry about how to pay for this.
He's uninsured, and unemployed. He does have some savings from an inheritance(father) , I'm not sure how much , but around 200-300k. He lives of that basically, no other income. He has some mental health issues imo, and has never worked. 

We are in Florida, alachua county. Does anyone know what to expect? Will he have to pay a 300k bill (don't know the amount yet)  with all his money and be left penniless, or are there other options?  Can they force any of us to pay his bills?
Off course I would help him and sell my house if I have to, but I'm hoping to avoid that.  

Thanks for any input 

Today is the birthday of someone I was close to from the first day of 1st grade until I was around 30-ish when we became people who just waved and said "Hello!" when we saw each other in passing. When I realized it is her birthday today my first instinct was to call and wish her a happy birthday until common sense flooded back into my brain with a reality check that screamed "NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!"

There are many people who I have known most of my (about to be 57 years) life. Some I still have relationships with but with most I do not. This is intentional. Some of us grew as people over the years but the majority never did and are stuck in the same mentality they've had since their early years. Just like the "friend" in question most are still closed minded, liars, manipulators, cheaters, moochers, users and horrible gossips. Why would I be friends with people like that to start with? Well, when you grow up in a household full of the same you believe it is normal and in a small town pickings are slim.

Small town mentality is not a myth, it is very real. I never had that mentality myself and never really understood it (thanks to being raised for several years by my granny and due to much travel that showed me life doesn't have to be that way), I only knew that as I matured I had less and less tolerance for that sort of behavior and all of the drama that comes along for the ride. As the years passed I reached that point of "the straw that broke the camel's back" with the majority of people whom I had been friends with practically forever. Don't get it twisted though, I may be an extremely nice person most of the time but when I've reached that point of "Enough!" I will cut you out of my life and ignore you so hard you will begin to doubt your own existence!  

I haven't been down home to visit in over two years. If it weren't for our middle daughter and grandson it wouldn't bother me to never visit again. When we have gone to visit in the past there has only been one friend that I've gone out of my way to visit and she passed earlier this year. We probably wont go back until one of my parents or step-dad passes, mainly to be there for my daughter. 

So my circle is shrinking smaller and smaller and in my opinion that's not a bad thing. I can love people from a distance without allowing their drama to disturb my peace. As I barrel down the road toward what I hope to be my "Golden Years" I have chosen quality over quantity. It's not a matter of forgiveness, if people haven't changed and grown in well over 50 years they're probably never going to. Over the years I've tried to remember the good times but when I've spoken with old "friends" as soon as they open their mouths it is evident nothing has changed so in my own best interest I just don't speak. To be honest since I moved away 10 years ago my life has been more peaceful and happy than it ever was before. 

So here's to my shrinking circle and happy birthday to all my former friends! I hope they're all eating well- just not at my table.

I thought it was going to be just an ordinary Tuesday, but he'll be here soon and then I'll be on my way.
This will be the last time I light these lanterns on the bridge and somewhere deep in my heart, the task
will be missed, but not the lonely trek to accomplish the chore. It was on such as a night as this cold
winter's eve that I first met Accam Dey and on a similar one in an Autumn not too long ago, the wily
wayfarer did what he did to me.

I suppose I should explain to the reader of this tale who-is-who and how it all came about.

I'm the Miller's daughter, the last in the line of the Jessup family and because of that night that the
tinker came to my little home beside the river, I am unmarried and without kin to pass my name onto.
I'm a spinster... yes, that's the correct term in these parts.

For nearly a century, my descendants have illuminated the stone-built crossing of the Bulmer river.
The four ornate lanterns positioned at either end of the bridge were first erected nearly a century ago by
some long-forgotten Blacksmith. I'll wager is name was Bulmer.

The moon watches my lonely vigil and I know I don't have much time left. At least, not here in Merricott.

So I light the lanterns every night and the village further down the valley is grateful. The Midnight Mail
Rider can bring the news posters and the gossip from the surrounding shires for Merricott's residents to
devour during their morning ritual of drawing water from the village's well and even though the Postman
doesn't actually arrive at midnight, that's the title he is given.

There's something captivating about it I suppose. But anyway, I'd better get back to my tale.

Alas, the well-tanned Gypsy with his sack of clanking mysteries arrived at my Father's door with a promise
that he had something the village's only Miller would find invaluable. I will admit that the tin flour jug that
my Pa purchased was something to behold, but we had no idea the winking-and-smiling tinker held other
thoughts of payment.

For two straight days and nights after the traveller's visit, my Father and several men from Merricott searched
for the charming man with the fancy-gold rings on his fingers and wayward nature. Of course, I had no idea
any-such hunt was underway as I lay in my bed surrounded by whispering women and my weeping Mother.

If memory serves, I was violated, spoiled and plundered. These were words softly breathed around the room
as my brow was cooled with a damp cloth and urged to take more broth from one of my Mother's best spoons.

I recovered, that's what women do. They accept their lot in a world of men and go on. Grain is still to grind
and sacks are there to be filled. Just as the Gypsy had took his fill. Ten years ago... ten whole years ago
since a stranger altered my state in the community and caused me to attempt to take my life.
The recollection is still vivid of that night... that night I met Accam Dey.

The season when all the trees and plants disrobe had long passed and after the hamlet's Winter Solstice
celebrations had ended and the coloured rags around the mill's eaves had been taken down, the daily
chores became the focal point of living again.

I had taken to carrying a gully-knife from my Mother's kitchen when I had to visit Merricott and even though
I was sure that the man who had molested me would never again dare to stumble down the thoroughfare
that crossed the bridge, the handle of that weapon was always damp from my hand.

Oh, they were always happy to see me and I know that as I passed any of the women busy scrubbing a
doorstep or hanging linen on a line across the main track of Merricott, a welcoming smile that never quite
reached their eyes would always await me. I know in my heart that the happiness they poured onto me
was really pretentious sympathy. 'Oh isn't it a shame...?' really meant thank God it wasn't me or mine.
One can only take so much.

It was only when I stood in the cold shadows beneath Bulmer's Bridge with the knife at my wrist, did I
first become aware of what a coward I was. I couldn't do it. The current was strong enough to take my
body away from any chance of saving me and the loss of blood in the icy river guaranteed that I would
never again have to endure the sickly smiles and the condescending tones of the Merricott women.

My parents were asleep in the leaning old adobe structure I'd called home for sixteen years. The old
waterwheel creaked it's view on my father's nightly decision of not allowing it to gambol with the peaty
water of the Bulmer. The bloated ashen moon mocked the mechanism's restraint from its lofty place as
I stared at my chilled skin and wished for bravery.

I have never held any fear of the night, even after the episode with the tinker. I recall that somewhere in
the back of my mind, I hoped that he would reappear so that I could try my hand with that gully-knife...
and cut his excuse-for-a-heart out. The shadows deepened as the moon pulled some scudding cloud
around itself.

Yet, I could not make that slice, I stared at the blue vein that had moved life along it's highway and had
pumped harder as I'd struggled beneath the gold-strewn hand of the vagabond who had ruined that life.
I believe I can say that at that moment, I was the loneliest person in the world.

"Then it is a paradox..." the huge black wolf had said. "...If you are estranged and I am beholding to
nothing, how then can we be both alone and yet here... together?" Maybe some would have never heard
the end of the sentence because of a faint, maybe some would have just loosened their bowels and ran
the race of the prey. And maybe I should have done these things.

"But here we are you and I, a killer seeking a drink and a girl wishing to taint that water" the confident voice
had came again and the large eyes glittered with a hint of dark humour. I remembered to breathe.

"You can kill me wolf, I am willing for you to take me..." I stuttered "...There is nothing for me here" The words
had seemed to emerge by themselves as I'd never considered that the appearance of the chest-high beast may
be the agent of my demise. Glassy-eyes blinked behind the steam of his breath and then the big wolf stepped
closer.

"You have been marked by one of your kind and so you wish to die?" the tongue-lolling mouth asked and nearing
my position, I saw the long flesh-rending teeth that guarded it. "And you wish for me to be your executioner?" the
monster stated with a small snort.

Yes, the sable-furred creature stood up to my trembling shoulders and his head was as big as a cow's. The moon
had reappeared and failed to enhance the stygian hue of the wolf's coat, he was truly midnight on all-fours.

Cunning sanguine eyes scanned the sleeping mill and replying with my own study, I noticed paws that were
larger than my Father's own hands. "Do I measure up?" the wolf whispered and I'm certain the velvet voice
didn't come from his long snout.

Then that huge head turned to face me and I stifling a whimper of fear, I awaited the butchery. I would be
gone and the villagers would have something else to gossip about. With my hands wringing my apron,
I closed my eyes and accepted my fate.

The sound of water being lapped caused me to open an eye and powerful hind-quarters were my only view,
the wolf was taking a drink from the river. Once more, I could have ran, I think that I could have even pulled
my knife from it's place in my petticoat and wounded the beast.
Maybe the injury would have hampered his chase of me?

''I am Accam Dey and the last of my kind...'' the wolf introduce himself without looking at me. ''...So your
ponderings would have two progenies extinguished tonight'' he added and shook water droplets from his
whiskers. My hand went back to throttling my apron.

The moon decided that slumber was too early within it's ribboned quilt and so, gazed down at the two
strangers below. A pair...? Kindred spirits or just a meeting of the lost? We stared at each other for a
moment and then Accam Dey spoke once more.

''I will be here again tomorrow night and if you decide not to colour the river with your gore, I would be
blithe to speak to you about your woe'' he said with a tone that rivalled a flocculent pillow. I'd have sworn
the wolf winked. Then he was gone and needless to say, he didn't eat me.
I slept well that night.

By the time Christmas came around again, I had met with the wild creature called Accam Dey many evenings
after that first encounter. Yet, there were times when the wolf would excuse himself from a coming visit, but
he never told me me the reason why. And I never asked.

The warmer nights would find this odd couple sitting on the lush grass where the eddys of the river ignored its
width and allowed a small calm area where the water tarried. The over-hanging bank promised ground-hugging
turf and a comfortable place to take in the view of the illuminated bridge. I had always imagined it as almost
grotto-like in the way that the elderflower bushes surrounded it.

Accam Dey would always wait until the torches had been lit before he stepped from the shadows and greeted
me. It was late-August when he gave me the gift.

My Father believed I was trying my hand at fishing and even though he had frowned at the idea that I should be
alone beside the Bulmer with the coming dark, I assured him that I would be close enough to the mill to flee if
any stranger approached.
Anyone on two legs, that is.

''A trout will make a fine supper...'' the sooty-furred monster offered as he panned his gaze across the windows
of my home. ''...And night fishing is best kind'' he added and brought his kind-eyes to mine as he softly sat beside
me on the grass. The line and pole nodded occasionally, but I believed it was just the current saying hello.

''On evenings like this, I can see why you would want to stay in such a peaceful place'' Accam Dey mused without
turning his shaggy head to look at me. His comment was not without merit, it was truly serene. The sky was that
pink-blue colour of a warm-cloudless evening and a red full moon rested on the tree tops along the road. It would
only be an hour or so before the stars appeared. We sat there and soaked in the halcyon air and felt the heartbeat
of the land beneath our backsides.

I had never heard him sigh until then, but that is what he did. Blacksmith's bellows encased in a body of muscle
and pitch-cloth. ''I have been cogitating regarding a gift I have for you'' he suddenly breathed softly beside me.

The homemade float on the end of my line curtsied and then went back to it's summer drift. Since that first night
when Accam Dey introduced himself, he had never hinted that he had the ability to doubt. He is a wolf fearless.

With the distant sound of a whip-poor-will arriving from the copse across the river, I gently touched the massive
shoulder of Accam Dey and whispered that whatever he felt was appropriate, was fine with me. It was daring,
but he was my only friend.

The large eyes fixed on me with serious earnest as he spoke and my wary mind raced with what he was about to
say. If these encounters were part of my healing, then I didn't want it ruined due to some needless requirement
of tributes.

''The human that scarred you, the road-wanderer that did what he did... I encountered him'' Accam Dey said softly
and stood to his full height. I can only guess that my own eyes were as big as the Sunday tea saucers that my
Mother kept to one side for when the Priest visited.

The giant wolf sniffed the air and glanced towards the mill. One could imagine that somewhere a rat or mouse
was partaking of some fallen corn in the storage barn and Accam Dey knew it. ''Please let this not stand between
us'' he said enigmatically and without a sound, slipped away into the shadows of the bridge.

It was the Gypsy's hand. The dirt and blood-stained rings were still there and in hindsight, I would suggest the taking
of the limb -and possibly the killing of the miscreant who had dragged me into those leafless elder bushes on that
Autumn night, must have only happened a day ago. ''It's the only way I know of assisting in the closure of your...''
Accam Dey stood over the severed hand and gathered his dictum. ''...It's what I felt was appropriate'' he corrected
himself.

I held him then. The huge feral killer that roamed the land and forded the gulf between man and animal.
This creature of the night that could snap my bones without a glance, stood and accepted my gratitude.
Burying my head into his thick mane, I murmured the words ''thank you''.

There was no scaly-catch that evening and it may have been to the fact the fish dined on the grubby flesh of five
gold-gilded fingers that had been tossed into the water during another lament from the whip-poor-will.
A passage in my life had ended and a bond had been created, Accam Dey had turned the page.

My parents passed on eight years later with my Mother coming down with the consumption and then Pa drinking
himself to lay beside his dead wife a few months afterwards. They say love is binding, don't they? The evening
following my Father being put in the ground, Accam Dey appeared again and we talked of loss and grief.

''Life is fleeting and it's only when it's gone do we ponder penitence, do you agree?'' he had said as he sat on his
haunches between the two graves. ''Your tears will do naught to ease the travail you will wear'' he added with a
staid tone.

I was tired. The day had been full of consoling faces, busy hands and kitchen mutterings. The mill had become a
wake parlour once more and the requiem moved between the curse-like ordeal of my family and deliberations of
where flour would now be obtained. It was only when the villagers finally began to leave, did I tell them that the
grist-grinding would continue.
I would go on.

''So you will remain here, pulverise seed and pass your days talking to an animal... your only friend?'' Accam Dey
asked through my day-dreaming and mentally, I shook my self-pity away and looked towards the big wolf. The
daylight had almost gone and the nine-or-so bags of corn near the storage barn seemed to demand that I take
up my Father's reins and engage the waterwheel. Life is not only fleeting, but also a trammel.

Pulling my cape about me, I answered and could not keep the signs of resignation from my voice. ''It's my lot...
my place in this world'' I said and failed to fight back the tears that had been waiting for too long. The wolf looked
towards the falling sun and seemed to be deep in thought, the furry brow creased to show his mind was jousting
with his heart.

''There is a place...'' Accam Dey said as I turned to accept my milling chores, ''...a place that I have visited from
time-to-time'' A cool breeze ruffled his bristly fur on his back as I halted to hear his words and I knew his acute
awareness would alert him that I was attentive to his comment.

''Sometimes when the days begin to shorten and the air tingles with the promise of frost, I have sought warmer
climes to ease these aged bones'' the calm, subdued wolf uttered. Though his voice was bucolic, Accam Dey's
eyes hinted at a serious proposal was sparring with his rational and it was winning.

''This world isn't what you think it is...'' he murmured and sniffed the zephyr for the sign of quiet hare or sleepy
rabbit. "...And I would like to show you the truth" he whispered into that same cool draft of air. Glancing towards
the watermill, my mind nudged my soul and asked me to linger. Then he told me.

And so I'm here. With the flickering flame of the lantern as my witness as I await Accam Dey's shadow to alight
the frost-kissed bridge. My life here is over and just like those perverse gold-sheathed bones that canker on the
silty-bottom of the river, I will be forgotten.

There's a land out there that where I can begin again, where no waterwheel will mark my time and no millstones
that will mock my crushed spirit. My companion is here and it's time to go, but in memorial of those who bore me
and raised me, I slip my hand into my petticoat pocket.

As the tossed corn-seeds cause ripples across the oily surface of the Bulmer, I say goodbye to the home that loved
me and the burden that everyone assumed I'd carry. I'm never doing that again.

The End.

Since today is Halloween I thought it might be a little spooky to tell an origin story. For 40 years I was stalked by a Demon (thankfully no longer- knock on wood!). This is how it all began:

When I was 7 years old I spent a weekend with my grandparents and youngest uncle (who was a teenager at the time). When my parents came to pick me up Sunday evening they brought with them a new purchase they had made while I was gone- a Ouija board. I had never seen one before and didn't know what it was. My uncle was really excited because he had used one before with his friends and had fun so that got me curious and after we watched my parents for a while my uncle and I begged to play too.  My parents eventually gave in (I think because my pawpaw gave them the stink eye for playing with what he considered a toy in front of us kids). After they grew bored they handed the board and planchette to my uncle and told us we could go play with it in the family room while they and my grandparents visited.

My uncle asked all of the questions, I don't remember what the questions or answers were, just that I was playing a game with my uncle and that was fun enough for me. I remember my Dad came in to check on us and watched for a while before going back to the kitchen and bringing my Mom and Pawpaw back with him to watch. I remember my Mom saying something about how fast the planchette was moving. My Pawpaw all of a sudden said "That's enough!" and made my parents put everything back in the box and go put it in the car. My uncle and I were disappointed but went to his room to read comics until my parents were ready to leave.

After that my parents used the board every night for the next few weeks, sitting Indian style with knees touching on their bed. Since my room was next door every so often I would peek around the corner and watch but if they saw me they would run me off. Then they started closing and locking the bedroom door while they did it.  Oh well, I was busy trying to keep my then 2 year old sister entertained anyway. But then something very unusual happened and to this day I have never been able to get either of my parents to talk about it. They don't deny it, they just say that it was long ago and they can't remember. It is something that is seared into my brain forever.

One night my parents are once again in their room using the Ouija board. Before closing the door they got my baby sister to bed and told me I had to lay down in bed with the light out but that I could watch television in my room until I fell asleep- just don't bother them. I even remember the pajamas I had on, what I was watching on television, etc. Right as the show I was watching was about to end (The Undersea World of Jacques Cousteau) I heard my parents bedroom door open and Dad came and got me out of bed, bringing me to their bedroom where my Mom was sitting on the bed with the board. Dad tells me to lay down on my stomach and he and Mom sit cross-legged on either side of me. Then they put the Ouija board on my back and told me to be still, close my eyes and go to sleep.

I stayed awake for a short time and felt movement on my back as my parents asked questions and called out letters. I wasn't really interested and eventually fell asleep. I don't know how long after that but the next thing I remember is Dad waking me up and actually carrying me to bed- which is something he hadn't done since before my sister was born. I went to sleep.

Following that I started seeing a dark shadow in places where there shouldn't be any shadows- and the shadow moved! I began to feel a strange fear that I couldn't explain in certain parts of the house, especially in mine and my parents bedrooms and sometimes the living room. Mom was acting strange and was jumpy and irritable. She had started using the Ouija by herself while my Dad was at work with her bedroom door closed and locked. This went on for several days until "The Incident".

Dad had started working nights. Mom put my sister in bed and told me I could stay up and watch television in my room as long as I was quiet and didn't disturb her. She shut and locked her door and I heard her flip the light switch off. I decided instead of watching television I would build the ferris wheel pictured on my giant can of Tinker Toys. I was making good progress when all of a sudden Mom lets loose a blood curdling scream and I heard a big commotion- it was Mom literally not only ripping her bedroom door of its hinges but actually ripped out part of the door frame as well! She hit the opposite wall hard and fell and I ran to her asking if she was alright. Tears were streaming down her face, she was whiter than anyone I'd ever seen and her eyes were huge! She made me go to the living room with her and we slept on the sofa together until my Dad came home the next morning and woke us up asking my Mom what happened to the door. I didn't hear anything else as I was getting ready for school but once I was outside waiting on the school bus I could hear them screaming at each other from the street but I couldn't make out what was being said.

After that the Ouija was put away and they never used it again. Even now Mom refuses to discuss what happened. Last time Dad and I talked about it he just remembers being baffled as to how Mom had ripped the locked door off its hinges and ripped out part of the door jamb as she was a tiny little thing back then. It was as far as I know the end of their story but only the beginning of mine. I spent the next 40 years being stalked by a demon and my life was a cluster fuck. It affected nearly everything in my life and even my partners and children were terrorized. Imagine growing up in the Conjuring house but every house we lived in was like that because it stalked me wherever I went- that is what my children grew up with. But that is another tale for another time.

So that is my origin story. A true tale of terror for your Halloween pleasure.
Happy Halloween Rogues!

Are you ready for the ultimate red pill to awaken you and give you power over this so called reality? Initiating a terminal can be an exciting and rewarding experience. You can actually modify and control aspects of reality. First, you need to prime your brain to connect as a terminal.
 
Every two hours take a moment a moment to reflect on and decompress everything you’ve experienced in the last two hours. The first time needs to cover your entire life experience. If you are sleeping, the very moment you wake up do this. Remember, dreams may not be real, but they are real experiences.

Throughout the day, perform experiments to see when reality is able to be edited, as your session with terminal access you achieve may be forgotten through a busy day or a nights sleep. This can include looking at your hands, trying to push your finger through your palm, or trying to breathe through a pinched closed nose. The idea is to make this a habit, so when your connection to the simulation is weakest you can get terminal access.

Throughout your day, from first waking to drifting to sleep and everywhere in-between, tell yourself that you will have terminal access. Visualize the interface which you want to experience terminal access through and affirm your intention to recognize when you’re there.

The system updates a lot at night consolidating history and position of every object, therefore there are inconsistencies relating to mini-Mandela-effects that tie up the system monitor and you can get in unnoticed. Go to sleep at the standard time, but have an alarm go off after 4 hours. For about 30-60 minutes focus on terminal access, with your eyes closed to disconnect from the simulation. Stay laying there focusing on a terminal or control panel for the universe and what it looks like until it unlocks. Immediately upon accessing it, you should be able to pass one hand through another, fly, manifest money and more.

You want your mind operating at peak efficiency, so avoid stimulants and alcohol as these substances can disrupt your brain patterns and make it harder to access the terminal.

Stay Patient and Persistent, the terminal may not be accessible immediately. It takes practice and patience. Keep trying and experimenting with these techniques.

If you fail to save, it will effectively blue-pill you back to a standard beginning of day routine with you waking up in your bed with no control of the simulation. Don’t forget to save and enjoy your journey.

Ever wondered when the media first began to see the potential in entertaining their customers instead of informing them
with accurate information? Instead of getting bogged-down with the Tombstone Thurnderbird photo debacle -a piece of
fakery that showed how much MSM will use imagery for their ratings-grabbing purposes, let's look at the actual article
from 1890.


(Taken from The US Library of Congress)

Quote:The Tombstone Epitaph. 26 April 1890

'A winged-monster, resembling a huge alligator with an extremely elongated tail and an immense pair of wings, was
found on the desert between the Whetstone and Huachuca mountains last Sunday by two ranchers who were returning
home from the Huachucas. The creature was evidently greatly exhausted by a long flight and when discovered was able
to fly but a short distance at a time.

After the first shock of wild amaze-ment had passed the two men, who were on horseback and armed with Winchester
rifles, regained sufficient courage to pursue the monster and after an exciting chase of several miles succeeded in
getting near enough to open fire with their rifles and wounding it. The creature then turned on the men, but owing to
it’s exhausted condition they were able to keep out of its way and after a few well directed shots the monster partly
rolled over and remained motionless.

The men cautiously approached, their horses snorting with terror, and found that the creature was dead. They then
proceeded to make an examination and found that it measured about ninety-two feet in length and the greatest
diameter was about fifty inches.

The monster had only two feet, these being situated in a short distance in front of where the wings were joined to the
body. The head, as near as they could judge, was about eight feet long, the jaws being thickly set with strong, sharp
teeth. It’s eyes were as large as a dinner plate and protruded about half way from the head.

They had some difficulty in measuring the wings as they were partly folded under the body, but finally got one
straightened out sufficiently to get a measurement of seventy-eight feet, making the total length from tip to tip
about 160 feet. The wings were composed of a thick and nearly transparent membrane and were devoid of feathers
or hair, as was the entire body. The skin of the body was comparatively smooth and easily penetrated by a bullet.

The men cut off a small portion of the top of one wing and took it home with them. Late last night one of them arrived
in this city for supplies and to make the necessary preparation to skin the creature, when the hide will be sent for
examination by the eminent scientists of the day. The finder returned early this morning accompanied by several
prominent men who will endeavor to bring the strange creature to this city before it is mutilated...'

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Escaping the Bataan death march and with help from Philippine natives and an old 20 foot fishing boat Damon "Rocky" Gause and one other American traveled from the Philippines all the way to Australia (3200 + miles).  

Yeah, 


Where Are The Jews! Allah-Hu Akbar



This shit reminds me of Germany in the late 30's, Dreams of a new Ottoman Caliphate are coming true. Skip to 1 minute, Turkey - Hamas are not terrorist, Does the West want to wage a fight between the Cross and the Crescent again?