Crocodile Dundee [1986)

Alice Springs.

Lockdown.

Pine Gap.

Original cover: space research.

HAARP.

SIGINT.

14 years on Australian territory without Australian access to certain facilities.

1966-1980.

Cryptography still boxed out.

Even with 5VEY.

Alice and Wonderland.

Menwith Hill.

Hats.

1966.

Geraldton.

Misawa.  GCHQ Bude.  Morwenstow.  Cornwall.  North Yorkshire.  Western Australia.  Northern Territory.  TAT-14.  Katwijk.  Dunant live two months before election.  Owner:  Google.  Major NSA bugged out.  Grace Hopper to Bude.  Owner:  Google.  Yellow/AC-2.  NSA.  Bude.  Owner:  Lumen.  Nuclear-hardened repeater station at Widemouth Bay. Crooklets Beach.  Sugar Grove.  NRQZ.  Yakima.  Buckley SFB.  BSFB.  Colorado.  Waihopai.  Tangimoana.  CFS Leitrim.  CFS Alert.  Nunavut.  CFB Gander.  NFLD.  Masset.  Diego Garcia.  Lackland.  LEMONWOOD.  CARBOY.  Cloud chamber bowls.  Gough Whitlam thinking out loud.  Like JFK.  Ghislaine Maxwell.  Robert Maxwell.  NASA Arnhem Land.  Uluru.  Ayers Rock.  Two ticks on a dog.  Wallaby.  Marines in Darwin.  RIP Wally.  Just another sheila at the billabong.  Steve Irwin.  Walkabout.  Truffaut.  451.  Crowdsurfing.  Bon Scott.  Paul Hogan wrote the story.  Get Stallone.  Time for New South Wales to get angry.  Delta variant is bullshit.  https://www.bitchute.com/video/qs9X8Blr4Ucv/

Married the same woman twice.  Divorced her twice.  Then married the stunning Linda Kozlowski.  Paul Hogan on the tele in U.K. and South Africa.  Foster’s Lager.  Shrimp on the barbie.  Winfield cigarettes.  Good shit.  Conservative.  Family-oriented.  Less violence.  Could be liberal or conservative.  Capital cities.  Regional Australia.  Could do a tour with 25 stops.  Time to get angry, Sydney.  Australia is a COVID embarrassment.  Canada and the U.K. are neck and neck for second worst COVID approach.  Get loud, Australia!  Come on!!  For fuck’s sake.

Why is Australia so tamed? https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2021/apr/25/how-australias-global-gold-standard-on-gun-control-is-being-eroded 

The “gold standard of gun control”.  Blech.  Port Arthur.  

False-flag 1996 (April):  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Port_Arthur_massacre_(Australia)

And in the U.K.?  Scotland.  Gotta screw over the Scots.  Dundee.  Dunblane.

False-flag 1996 (March): https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dunblane_massacre 

Dumbasses.  Fucking globalist twats.  But we are not abandoning you, Australia, because we fucking love you.  And same to you, beloved Scotland! https://soundcloud.com/paulydeathwish/australia-here-i-come-original

That’s not information warfare, THIS is #INFORMATIONWARFARE .

Who’s the enemy?  Lies.  WAKE UP, AUSTRALIA!!!  https://staceyrudin.medium.com/unrestricted-warfare-lockdown-as-a-new-concept-weapon-in-the-post-nuclear-age-670086b834a9 Time to get really fucking angry.  This is the hill to die on.  Your lives have been ruined.  Take back your country!  Lockdowns do not work.  Look at Florida.  Look at Texas.  The variants are #scariants .  By no means take the booster shots.  https://www.bitchute.com/video/qs9X8Blr4Ucv/ Know your variants.  Learn from this former Pfizer VP and chief scientist for allergy and respiratory.  THIS IS (by deduction) nefarious.  There is no explanation which fits other than depopulation.  Be strong, mates!  We are pulling for you and rooting for you.  Take inspiration from us here in Texas as we take inspiration from you.  AC/DC.  INXS.  Be the rebels your criminal ancestors would want you to be.  Time to get penal colony on this lockdown bullshit.  Take to the streets and peacefully protest.  Make your voices heard.  Show us how loud you can be.  Get creative.  Let’s go!  Enough!!!

-PD

Pelosi’s Laptop: Full Conversation with Lieutenant General Thomas Mcinerney [2021)

Essential transmission.

Lt. Gen. Thomas McInerney talks about Italy’s role in stealing the election for Joe Biden.

Done through an Italian military satellite run by Leonardo S.p.A.

Coordinated by China.

Through an American computer/app which James Comey sold to the Chinese.

That computer and app being The Hammer and Scorecard (respectively).

The whole world has seen Ruby Freeman steal votes on CCTV footage out of Georgia.

If they haven’t, they should.

Along with her daughter (and boss) Shaye Moss as well as another superior Ralph Jones Sr.

Along with one other person (as yet to be identified), these four individuals ran Republican poll watchers (and all press) out of the State Farm Arena in Fulton County, Georgia by telling the lie that they were going to stop counting for the night.

But they didn’t stop counting.

The lie was buttressed by a tall tale about a water main having been busted.

It was a leaky urinal.

These four criminals then retrieved special ballots (there were other bins closer and more accessible) from under a table which was covered with a cloth.

The four criminals proceeded to runs these same ballots MULTIPLE TIMES through the Dominion Voting Systems machines in the State Farm Arena in Atlanta (Fulton County, Georgia).

The next morning, Joe Biden had pulled off a miraculous “win” in that state.

A similar thing took place in Pennsylvania, Michigan, Wisconsin, Arizona, and Nevada.

But we are told there is no evidence.

And that Donald Trump’s claims of election fraud are “baseless”.

When presented with direct evidence (the CCTV footage of Ruby Freeman, et al.), the media use the “big lie” tactic of Joseph Goebbels.

They lie.

And they continue to lie.

And in the face of truth, they lie more.

Creating a BIG LIE.

Which is then, gradually, unquestioned.

I will speak more later (God willing) on China’s untoward investments in ALL American media companies (aka “news” sources).

So now we come down to Pelosi.

Nancy Pelosi calls up the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff (CJCS) Mark Milley attempting to BLOCK current President Donald Trump from accessing the American nuclear arsenal.

Milley tells her this is not possible.

Why?

Because Trump is still President.

To even ATTEMPT to block him from protecting the country is AT LEAST the sixth coup d’état attempt the Democrats/Deep State have attempted against Trump over the past four years.

Why is Nancy Pelosi so FRANTIC to impeach Trump using the 25th Amendment (a farce…it would necessitate Trump being INCAPABLE of fulfilling the duties of President)?

Because (according to Mcinerney) U.S. Special Forces (SOCOM/USSOCOM) surreptitiously confiscated Nancy Pelosi’s laptop during the “siege” of the U.S. Capitol.

Makes sense.

It’s plausible.

But Mcinerney goes on to detail that there is a “songbird” (John McCain?) willing to spill the beans about the continual HIGH TREASON which has been directed at Donald Trump these past four years (six coup attempts).

Let’s just take the fifth coup attempt:  the election fraud (stolen election).

All who have participated in this treason in an active role should be subject to prosecution under 18 U.S.C. 2381.

The penalty for treason is death.

So we are sitting here in America and wondering when Donald Trump will activate the Emergency Broadcast System.

And when Trump will make an announcement pursuant to his Executive Order 13848 regarding foreign election interference.

We know COVID-19 is a bioweapon.

China’s biological warfare against the world (and particularly against the United States) is in harmony with China’s stated policy of Unrestricted Warfare.

Find the book.

It was written by two Chinese Air Force colonels in 1999.

You can find an English translation even for the Amazon Kindle.

You can learn a lot by listening to General McInerney.

He is truly a brilliant intellect.

And an American hero.

You can learn, for instance, about tactical deception.

Digital soldiers must watch this video which I have posted above.

It is an important video document.

Are we to become a third-world country like Haiti?

We are if we let this election fraud stand.

Anthony Fauci is a false messiah.

Fauci outsourced dangerous “gain of function research” experiments on coronavirus to the Wuhan Institute of Virology.

That’s right:  one of the most guilty parties is parading as savior.

Look it up.

Newsweek.

Times of India.

General Flynn is another great patriot.

McInerney and Flynn will go down in history as two of our greatest Americans.

But we must preserve the Republic!!!

McInerney was stationed in London when he was in the USAF.

He commanded the 111 ATKW.

3rd Air Force.

He knows, from his foreign travels, of GCHQ.

Britain’s equivalent of Fort Meade.

NSA.

SIGINT.

And so there has been, for some time, some funny business going on regarding this whole effort to slander Trump re: “Russian collusion”.

It is, in fact, the Democrats themselves who colluded with Russia.

This PROJECTION tactic is straight from Saul Alinsky.

Hillary Clinton has gotten away with this stuff for far too long.

Why did former President Obama have a SCIF installed in his D.C. home?

Does Valerie Jarrett live in Obama’s household?

Would this be considered a shadow government?

And so we have Biden.

Or do we?

WAKE UP AMERICA!!!

Turn off Fox News.

It is utter bullshit.

They called Arizona ON THE NIGHT OF THE ELECTION for Joe Biden.

Biden ended up officially “winning” the state by a mere 10,000 votes.

The fix was/is in.

Learn about “counter information operations”.

McInerney advises not trusting the FBI.

What a sad state of affairs for the Bureau.

I quite admire Ted Gunderson (and others).

It is time for good Special Agents to STAND UP!

Mike Pence committed treason.

Another USAF veteran (Ashli Babbitt) was shot in the neck and killed by Capitol Police.

She was unarmed.

Was it a false-flag?

Maybe.

But now you have people like McInerney (who was THE SOLE DoD official who reported to the White House under AL GORE’S (!) Reinventing Government initiative) coming out and saying that the Democrats/Deep State (many, MANY Republicans as well) have committed and are committing HIGH TREASON.

This is the moment, patriots.

You are WASHINGTON CROSSING THE DELAWARE.

Do not shirk your duties as digital soldiers.

Let freedom ring.

Let the truth be shouted from every mountaintop and housetop.

I WILL NOT BE SILENCED!

Do not be silenced!

Find a way.

I regret that I have but four social media accounts to give for my country.

NOW IS THE TIME.

There will be no tomorrow.

Tomorrow will be our country RULED BY CHINA.

SPEAK UP NOW!!!

Shout it!

For fuck’s sake!!!

-PD

Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory [1971)

Now we come to a crucial crossroads.

30,665 deaths so far in the United States from COVID-19.

Over a month ago, on or about March 12th, my girlfriend broke up with me.

But she didn’t do it in any sort of clearcut way.

I committed a transgression.

I wrote a very unflattering song about her.

Musically speaking, it was a very good song.

And so, out of blind pride, I posted it on my SoundCloud page.

It was written out of frustration.

I did not feel that I could discuss anything of substance with my girlfriend.

But I must qualify that statement.

I was unable to give her criticism…at all…ever.

No matter how tactfully I phrased it, she was not open to critique.

And she was always this way.

I will let the psychiatrists in the room now give their opinions as to the reason why.

[             ]

Thank you, good sirs.

You see, my girlfriend used to be my fiancée.

And before that she was my girlfriend.

My beginning is my end.

Understand that I waited 41 years to propose to a girl.

And propose I did.

And she accepted.

It was a joyful day.

I wore my best (only) suit.

I brought flowers (as I did every time I saw her).

We were happy.

I thought that giving her the reassurance of engagement would improve her attitude.

While I was never allowed to give her criticism (without a resulting emotional explosion from her), she was allowed to give me criticism.

And she did.

From the moment I met her.

Her very first words to me when we first met in person were a CORRECTION of my faux pas.

I didn’t stand when she entered the room and approached my table.

I admit that I was in error.

But I was enraptured by her beauty.

And that was the first of many, MANY criticisms I would receive from her over the ensuing four months until our engagement.

Perhaps my optimism was misguided.

After a brief “honeymoon period”, the criticisms came back.

But I must give some “back story” to fill in her character profile.

She had lost a child mid-pregnancy just two years prior.

And less than one year before meeting me, she had lost her husband in a tragic traffic collision.

I was very compassionate to the special needs of this truly unique child of God.

My fiancée.

I wanted to help.

I overlooked many of her character flaws…attributing them to her PTSD and depression.

But every anniversary was like an eruption.

The date when her child died.

The date when her child was supposed to have been born.

The date when her husband died.

Her and her late-husband’s wedding anniversary.

Amidst all this struggle, she wanted to have another child.

Her one child had been lost.

Before ever really entering the world.

I obliged.

I loved her.

I was scared.

“What kind of father material am I?,” I thought.

But I pressed on.

I always acquiesced to her demands.

We did things HER WAY.

ALWAYS.

And it was stressful.

“Let’s go to a fertility clinic.”

Yadayadayada.

All while I am working to make ends meet.

“I will soon be too old to have children.”

A frantic pace.

Interspersed with bouts of her extreme depression.

Lovely stuff, I assure you.

It drove me back to tobacco.

And it drove me nuts.

Everything snapped for me.

One day I woke up and realized I couldn’t go to work.

I was done.

And so for 9 months, I had to be reborn.

I had to detox.

To her credit, she stuck by me (more or less).

And then tragedy struck again.

Her mother died.

I frantically tried to get my old job back (though I was not quite fully healed).

And I did.

I wanted to help her save her apartment which she loved.

But she got sick.

And sicker.

And sicker.

I kept the job.

But the apartment was lost.

And now she lives with her dad.

Just as I live with my parents (a situation she gave me grief about many times).

“Many who are first shall be last, and the last shall be first.”

Jesus spoke of karma.

And I’m sure I have a lifetime of wrecked karma ready to crash down on ME at any moment.

But sometimes the irony is too dripping.

There was the hospitalization.

Six days she was there.

I came every night (five nights).

After working until midnight sometimes.

But it was not enough.

She wasn’t satisfied.

After the hospital, she got worse (in many ways).

Finally, I was asked by her family not to contact her anymore.

Not to cause her “grief”.

And like that, our engagement vanished into thin air.

For 17 days I lived in a darkness.

And so did she.

She was very sick.

I heard nothing from her.

And then she slipped back into my life.

Slowly.

But it was so confusing.

She didn’t want to be engaged anymore (she said).

She wanted to take a (big) step backwards.

I wasn’t too happy about this, but I accepted.

And so we made it several months.

A nice Valentine’s Day.

But something was worse than before.

There was absolutely no reciprocation.

If I complimented her (which I did often), she would not compliment me.

If I did something nice for her (which I often did), it was very soon forgotten (and certainly not answered with a loving action from her).

I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t.

She was still too sick, she said.

And so things dragged on thusly.

And then I wrote that song which changed my life.

That song of frustration.

I am not proud of it.

Though it be musically a good composition, it caused her sadness.

When she happened to find it.

You see, I would write songs for this girl of mine.

I recorded 183 songs for her over the course of two years.

Some covers.

Some original instrumentals.

Some original songs.

Many of these gifts barely got a word of thanks in return.

Same for the thousands of dollars of flowers I bought for her over the same time period.

There’s even one song that she appears to have never bothered even listening to.

And it’s a good one.

After six months, it shows that it has zero listens.

Well, no one is perfect.

There were probably (almost certainly) other songs she never heard.

It just wasn’t what she needed at the time.

I can attest.

She was very, very sick.

183 songs.

Some she never got around to listening to.

In my frustration, I sang to the world.

I wrote…and put it in a bottle.

Like putting a leaf in a flowing stream.

To get rid of that care.

But of course, she found that particular leaf.

She interrogated me about it.

“No,” I said (trying to be tactful), “it’s not about you.”

But my conscience got to me.

And so the next day I came clean.

Yes, the song is about you.

I apologized sincerely.

I made no excuses whatsoever.

I didn’t plead my case.

She didn’t ask (never has) how I came to a place of such frustration.

But that was the last I heard from her.

For 10 days.

The first 10 days of this coronavirus pandemic in the United States.

I went through it alone.

I sent texts.

I sent emails.

All went unanswered for 10 days.

And when we came out, she was less than my girlfriend.

I told her I loved her…and got no response.

That was five weeks ago.

And so we have been winding things down.

We still talk.

But she is incapable of discussing our former relationship.

It stresses her out to much.

And she never even bothered breaking up with me.

So we are “just friends” now.

And I have tried to be there for her during this coronavirus crisis.

Which brings us to Willy Wonka.

This was one of the most formative movies of my life.

Perhaps THE most formative.

In elementary school, when the teachers were too lazy to teach, they’d put this film on.

And I would sit enraptured.

No matter how many times they showed it.

And they showed it to us MANY times.

It must have been one of the few VHS tapes which was approved for them to screen.

So what does this all mean?

Coronavirus, a wrecked romantic relationship, Willy Wonka…

Here is a partial answer:

a film reviewer should be cognizant of what is going on in their life and how that affects their “reading” of a certain film.

I rewatched this film tonight (for the umpteenth time) and saw stuff I had never seen before.

New details noticed.

But I was watching it with the sadness of romantic loss.

And with the stress of total societal isolation.

I have worked on the front lines of the service industry all throughout this crisis.

Precisely for the mental health BENEFIT it gave me.

Exercise.

Ersatz social interaction (with coworkers and customers).

But now, my store has been hit with a close encounter.

And so our hours have been shaved.

No more midnight.

Midnight shifted to 10 p.m.

And now, abruptly, 10 p.m has shifted to 2 p.m.

Can you imagine a coffee shop closing at 2 p.m.?

Well, that’s us right now.

And I am fairly certain I have delayed sleep phase disorder.

My “availability” starts at 4 p.m. each day.

So I have AT LEAST the next eight days off.

And I have had the past two off as well.

But five of my coworkers are home self-isolating…because they had potential second-hand exposure to COVID-19.

I miss them.  I’m making them music playlists.  I’m buying them groceries.  I’m sending them texts and emojis.

What a horrible situation to be in.

I myself was homebound today because of my asthma.

And that is our world.

Every sniffle.

Every sneeze.

Every sore throat.

As the mold floats on the breeze.

And the oaks bloom.

As particle pollution undulates.

Along with ozone.

Is it ‘rona?

If I need to take a Tylenol, is it ‘rona?

If I were to get coronavirus, it would be very bad indeed.

I live with my two elderly parents.

I have asthma.

I have high blood pressure.

And I have a whole bevy of mental problems.

But I chose to work.

I ran towards the sound of gunfire.

Whether it was stupid or brave, that is for others to decide.

And so now, here I sit with this masterpiece:

Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory.

Mel Stuart may be an auteur whose time is yet to come.

But the secret weapon is Walter Scharf.

Did he write the music?

No.

But he orchestrated it.

And such gossamer orchestration it is!

We start poor.

Shaggy dog.

Charlie Bucket.

A peasant’s name if there ever was one.

Crazy man plants the seeds of conspiracy.

About the factory.

*Charlie lives with his parents (as most young boys do).

But he also lives with all four of his grandparents.

And his father is deceased.

Willy Wonka is certainly a film about espionage.

Economic espionage.

Business espionage.

With overtones of state espionage.

International espionage.

Remnants of war.  England.  Germany.

Wonka’s factory is like Area 51.

But this film is unique in that it delineates a search.

A search by a man.

Or an organization.

Or agency.

Or entity.

A search for that one special person.

[decades before The Matrix]

God tested Abraham.

“…kill me a son/Abe said, ‘Man, you must be puttin’ me on!’/

God said, ‘No.’/Abe said, ‘What?’/God said, ‘You can do what you want Abe, but…uh/

next time you see me comin’ you better run.’/Abe said, ‘Where you want this killin’ done?’/  God said, ‘Out on Highway 61.'”

God, of course, STOPPED Abraham from killing his son.

But only AFTER Abraham had committed fully…knife in hand…to slit his son’s throat.

Great reading, that.

The Bible.

And this is a very biblical tale, Willy Wonka.

The eccentric Jesus.

God the Father…in the Heavens…with his Inventing Room.

The chocolate factory is heaven.

And only those who become like a child can enter…and stay.

Only those who are born again (made pure like a child) can inherit this chocolate factory.

God wants to pass on his greatest creation.

Heaven.

And God tests us.

But there is grace.

Charlie and Grandpa Joe mess up.

They drink the fizzy lifting drink.

They hang suspended like Icarus and Daedalus.

Their wings don’t melt.

They have the opposite problem.

They are on a collision course with the edge of ether.

Until they learn how to burp.

Stephen Dedalus…

Cicada 3301.

GCHQ recruiting.

Puzzles.

QAnon.

NSA.

Kryptos.

Who can solve the final part?

Right there at Langley.

Some might say I was engaged to Veruca Salt.

Wonka running counterespionage.

Counterintelligence.

Slugworth in Switzerland.

For Your Eyes Only.

Octagonal.

And hope.

Get out of bed.

Go back to work.

Warning strictly against “frippery”.

Again with Roger Moore in A View to a Kill.

Sideways fan.

Spoiled brat.

Always got what she wanted.

Cautionary tale of poor parenting.

God is merciful.

All is dream.

But God cannot be mocked.

His word is eternal.

Jesus was the Word made flesh.

Superseding the Ten Commandments.

There is freedom in Christ, but we are not to go on sinning.

We will mess up.

But it is by grace that we are saved.

So that no man may boast.

It is not by good works.

But the heart must be contrite.

And, above all, pure.

Made pure by the Holy Spirit.

When one invites God into ones life.

A little bit of divinity in each of us.

And quite a bit of divinity in this film.

By this logic, Satan (created by God) may be a Slugworth to be unmasked in the end times.

Lucifer…with that scar on his face.

The mark of Cain.

The murderer.

Finally, this is Gene Wilder’s best work.

He channels something here which is otherworldly.

Wilder became immortal with this film.

And he lives on.

As long as there is goodness in this world, we have a chance.

I want to thank my friend, the great writer Chris Lindsay, for encouraging me to write onwards during these dark times.

Thank you, Chris.

 

-PD

The Imitation Game [2014)

When I started this site, I focused a considerable bit on “spy spoofs” (which I cheekily filed under “espionage”).

But now we return to espionage in a more serious tenor.

Cryptography, to be exact.

Keep in mind, signals must first be intercepted before they can be decrypted.

Encryption–>Key–>Decryption.

Cipher, rather than code.

[or something like that]

And this story of Alan Turing hits all the right settings of the heart.

Indeed, the seeming Asperger’s case Turing makes a particularly prescient observation in this film.

Namely, that deciphering secret messages is very much like linguistic deconstruction.

Or even like its predecessor, structural linguistics.

Finnegans Wake, by my reading, is largely a sensual text of transgression written in a sort of code language which can only be decoded by a sort of Freudian mechanism inherent in minds similarly repressed by circumstances such as censorship.

There were things which James Joyce could not just come right out and say.

Else he would have ended up like Oscar Wilde (or Alan Turing himself) [though Joyce was pretty evidently heterosexual in excelsis].

And so The Imitation Game is a very fine film indeed about Bletchley Park (and, by extension, its successor the GCHQ).

It makes one reconsider that great piece of British classical music the “Enigma Variations” by Elgar.

Perhaps it was Edward’s premonition.

That a homosexual savant would save many lives through dogged determination to solve what was arguably the ultimate puzzle of its time.

Enigma.  James Bond fans will know it as the Lektor Decoder (a sort of substitution…a cipher…le chiffre…a metonym if not a MacGuffin).

“the article appears to be genuine” [stop]

“go ahead with purchase” [stop]

Smooth jazz on the weather channel…heil Hitler.

It’s true.

In Nazi Germany one was to begin and end even every phone call with “Heil Hitler!”.

Stupidity has its drawbacks.

Donald Trump has been skewered roundly by nearly every globalist publication on the planet, but there is power in the words, “You’re fired.”

Turing very soon realized that breaking the Enigma code was not a job for linguists.

It was purely mathematics, applied with imagination.

One of the most crucial actors in this film, Alex Lawther, plays what might be referred to as Boy With Apple.

There is something befitting of the “agony columns” mentioned by Simon Singh in his tome The Code Book about Turing’s backstory.

In the grown-up Alan Turing, we see the affection that man can have for machine…much like a struggling record producer naming his tape machine.

In the rotors there is music…and plenty of calibration to be done.

But the machine must be allowed to work.

And we must help the machine along by giving it hints on those entities which are “safe to ignore” (a sort of semiotics of limiting the fried pursuit of completism).

Love, as it turns out, sinks the Nazis.

Because even among the rank-and-file (or, perhaps, especially among them) there was a humanity which was not snuffed out.

It’s not because Hitler was a vegetarian who loved his dog.

The machine becomes predictive.

Because we tread the same path daily.

In some way.

In most ways.

Few of us are psychogeographical drifters–few bebop our infinitely-unique situations.

And even Coltrane has some signature licks.

Some runs.

Mystical fingerings.  Scriabin arpeggiated.

Then come statistics.

And megadeath notebooks seem less cynical.

Its the same discipline which made W. Edwards Deming a saint in Japan as he resurrected their economy.

The blowback was the quality revolution.

The next in that manga pantheon perhaps Carlos Ghosn.

Yes, we Trump voters are morons.  No doubt.

You must hide the victories among losses.

Where the chess player comes in.

Hugh Alexander.

Twice.

“You could be my enemy/I guess there’s still time”

Or is it NME?

“I’ve got a pi-an-o/I can’t find the C”

Or is it sea?

I salute thee, old ocean.  A quote by Lautreamont.

Or is it Ducasse?

Perhaps it’s why Ezra Pound was institutionalized.

On the grounds of the future Department of Homeland Security?

St. Elizabeths.  Washington, D.C.

When he spilled the beans about the Federal Reserve “System” to Eustace Mullins.

Finnegans.

Benedict Cumberbatch and Keira Knightley share a truly touching moment of love.

A passion of minds.

Platonic.  Immortal.

But the breaking is IX.  “Nimrod”…

That austere moment of British greatness.

One of only a handful of UK classical strains which really matter.

Sinopoli does it nicely.  With the Philharmonia.

Only a moron like me would vote for Trump.

To suffer for one’s art.

To turn off the lights and watch the machine come to life.

A miracle of whirligigs and glowing vacuum tubes.

Director Morten Tyldum expresses this ineffable humming solitude in the seventh art.

Cinema.

This dedication.

Dedicated.

And this love.

Which leads both telegraph operator and polymath to tap out the letters of their beloved.

Forever.

 

-PD

Un condamné à mort s’est échappé ou Le vent souffle où il veut [1956)

I wanted to write last night, but the Internet fell asleep.

This is one of my favorite films ever.

But I needed to rewatch it.  As I always do.  Every movie.

Real fear.

Real danger.

A long project.

Extracting yourself from the superjail.  The prison planet.

A Man Escaped.  We have it easy in English.

But witness the fullness of the French title.

It speaks to care.  Rope.  Hooks.  Months.  Of planning.

And it all started with a spoon.

Tin nor aluminum will do.  Neither.

We must wait for iron.

Steel?

Iron.  Hardness.

It’s World War II.

Today.  World War III.

And for the CIA, World War IV.

Chemists.  Physicists.  And now mathematicians.

Computer scientists.  Statisticians.

No, that’s post-War.  Japan.

But for now we are locked in a room of our own making.

If we can only get through the door.

tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

tap tap tap tap

tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

Which isn’t to say, taps.

We must succeed at this chess game.

Playing against an adversary with few weaknesses.

Multiple layers of defense and surveillance.

Doors and locks and gates and bars.

And silence.

It is the silence which will betray us.

And so, Dr. No, we must slip our shoes off for a little putting practice.

It is a real battle.

CIA vs. FBI.  Refereed by the NSA.

NGA vs. NRO.  Chantilly lace vs. a pretty face.

A girl and a gun.

ASIS vs. DIGO.  Or dingo.

Rich.

ASCAP vs. BM.I

But let me back up to the kebab organization known as SHISH.

Apologies to Belgium.

But it is worth noting SV/SE vs. CSIS/SCRS.

Scissors.  Suckers.  A scissor.

A pair of scissors.

He would need more leverage.  The most overused word in business.

And as meaningless as “innovation”.

What they mean is “interesting”…that’s innovation.

And by false flag, “not what it seems”.

Dear NEADS in Rome (NY) uttered collectively the phrase of Baudrillard’s lifetime:

“Is this real-world or exercise?”

But we have remembered it as simulation.

Going over his escape a million times in his head.

With poor reconnaissance.

Except the dead would-be escapee.

“He’s practically free.”

“No one’s practically free.”

Jessica Lange, incredulous.

But she’s not in this movie.

She’s headed to Roswell.

Named after Yale graduate Roswell Rudd.

A little town in New Mexico.

Out of time.  Mind.

CSE vs. GCHQ.  Or CSEC.

An animal with five eyes has no competition.

Within himself.  The owls are not what they seem.

Fifth wheel.  Hokey pokey.

Valuable antipodes.

And RCMP vs. FBI.  Horses.  Or moose.

Hippopotamus.  POTUS.  Not amused.

DND seems incorrect.

What was Fontaine in for?

And Jost?

DIPOLCAR.  Position.

MSS vs. RSS.  Seems so simple.  Really simple!  And so complex.

Pledged ΚΥΠ.

But the division.

ÚZSI vs. UZI.  Sounds dangerous.

With PET we get to canned milk or breaking wind.

A lovable Lego intelligence agency.

Of one.

Just one?

KaPo vs. capo.  Vs. ligatura.

Hitchcock’s rope vs. Bresson’s rope.

For this is Robert Bresson.  The movie.  Under consideration.

SUPO vs. sumo.

But we really get fired up by DGSE.

And it’s only appropriate.

DGSE vs. BND.

The only war which has ever been fought.

Das Fenster vs. la fenêtre.

The most delicate element of escape.

A crack in the breeze.

SIN vs. voodoo of all sorts.

GRLS.  Girls?  Gorillas?  Scalded ape?

When you need headache relief quick.  Choose BAINTELKAM!

A Buddhist temple with a surrounding population 95% Muslim.

Amazing.  Elton John.

MOIS.  Ooh…  Now we are getting serious.

Putting the me in month.

And of course “the Institute” (moving alphabethically).

Lisping along.

How will you project your escape.  Like Desargues.

And Poncelet.

The movie camera.

Go directly to jail.

Whale song matryoshka.

AISE.  Must be the coolest.  Standard issue Ferraris.  And meals in Modena.

Like Matthew Broderick’s brief moment of cool in Election.

Gid Tanner and his Skillet-Lickers…coming to the Kingdom of Jordan…real soon.

SREL.  Sreally?  That’s SRAL.  Like SalvaDali.

CISEN as sí señor.

Not quite hermeneutics.

FIB vs. SIN.

PST.  Masters of recruitment.

And FOST vs. SIE.

The big daddy ISI vs. ailleurs.

The canal of SENIS.  Central American zipper.

Could have been Lake Nicaragua.

AW 🙂 Georges Sand approaching Chopin with flowers.

He was a woman.  Mr. Sandman.

SIRP vs. usurp.

SVR vs. GRU. [now we’re making some sense]

And DEVGRU vs. GRU.

GIP is priceless.  One letter from perfection.

VOA vs. VOA.

NISA vs. NASA.  And the incomparable skills of PIS.

In joint operations with SENIS.

CITCO vs. Citgo.

Must it be?  It must be.  It MUST be.

And back to our MI6 and DIA and ONI.

These are the thoughts of a man in jail.

Where having a pencil is punishable by firing squad.

And so he builds his hope on escape.

From the mundane.

He is a true soldier.

Though he be stripped of any recognition.

Wisdom is that final step.  On a journey which started with mere data.

 

-PD

Thunderball [1965)

Perhaps there has been no greater case made for the existence of the C.I.A. and MI6 than the film Thunderball.

So much is made today about the negative aspects of espionage and covert operations.  One need not look far to find the doubters who think the very existence of these organizations endangers humanity.

I myself have long been among that number.  There is plenty to find fault with regarding these services.  Because of their secrecy there is only so much the general public can definitively know about their work.

We live in an age of globalization.  It is a reality.  There is no going back to the days of George Washington.  As much as I admire the philosophy of disengaged detachment, it simply will not do for America or the U.K. in the 21st century.

I myself have criticized these organizations…particularly the C.I.A.  They represent, ostensibly, my country.

The time has come to feel pride in what they do.  We only hear the horror stories.  Unfortunately, the perception management which these agencies employ only serves to make the more intelligent among us more bitter.  The 21st century was ushered in on 9/11/01.

Some among us have taken those events to be the impetus for a renaissance of thought.  Where we were previously disinterested (or ignorant of) the NSA, now we take great care to glean the news snippets from the airwaves and formulate our own thoughts regarding surveillance and espionage.

It is unfortunate that the NSA, GCHQ, CIA and MI6 (might as well throw in Mossad) have been whole-cloth denigrated.  It is a sticky game they play.  There are no clear winners in the secret wars they fight.  There are always casualties.

The idealists among us have legitimate concern when it comes to the undue influence of corporations and big business as regards matters of national securities.  It would well-behoove the nations of the United States, Great Britain and Israel to take a new tack insofar as their public relations.

The current information offensive cannot be sustained.  What is at issue involves not secrecy, but communication.  Entities which rely upon the art of lying can’t be completely blamed for their wrongheaded approach to public opinion.

It will take brave men and women in the intelligence field to stand up for what is right.  We know it is all one big gray, grey area, but there are some timeless principles which should guide the hearts of the human beings in control of this vast apparatus.

They operate on a “need to know” set of principles.  This of course goes for the military as well (and their intelligence…ONI for example).  In a sense, this is how things must be done.

But the time has come for the cooperation which exists between the U.S. and U.K. (to highlight just one treaty line) to be extended to the public at large.  It is not a matter of declassifying and bringing skeletons out of the closet.

The clean break which needs to happen involves a change of heart.  Only those with hearts are eligible.  Fortunately, for the time being, that means everyone.

What does all of this have to do with Thunderball, you might ask?

Pride.

National pride.

International pride.

When the paratroopers descended near the end of this film to fight what must be cinema’s most fantastic underwater hand-to-hand battle, I felt a sense of pride which I had not felt since America elected its first black president.

I may sound like a war hawk in saying this, but it is time we let our men and women of the armed forces do what they have been trained to do.  They have been trained to intervene.  They are our shield.

When Oppenheimer quoted the Bhagavad Gita upon explosion of the first nuclear weapon he was exhibiting his humanity–his humanity which could never be vaporized.

The agencies which I have mentioned and the people who run them would do well to sit down and view that underwater battle at the end of Thunderball and realize that it was one (albeit fictional) man, two very real intelligence agencies and one unnamed branch of the American military working together to do something undeniably good.  They were saving the lives of those they were entrusted to protect.  Some paratroopers lived.  Many paratroopers died.

I salute you, men and women of the intelligence community.  May your superiors find an enlightened approach to communicate to the public just what you do…without them telling us exactly what you are doing.  May they be duplicitous only inasmuch as it protects us.  After all, we are your countrymen and your fellow human beings.

 

-PD