Archive for the 'Into The Light' Category

Flapping The Fleshy Parts Of The Speech Orifice

nutness

Disqualified Death’s Head Changes Name To Eric Hoteham

The invisible doomed disqualified death’s head who has decreed she will serve as the second noggin upon the mutant 2016 presidential Bushton body apparently underwent gender-reassignment surgery some years ago and then changed her name to Eric Hoteham, all as part of her Plan to secure her government emails in one of her private bunkers and thus keep them Totally Private from the American people and other useless animals.

The computer server that transmitted and received Hillary Rodham Clinton’s emails—on a hotehamprivate account she used exclusively for official business when she was secretary of state—traced back to an Internet service registered to her family’s home in Chappaqua, New York, according to Internet records reviewed by The Associated Press.

The highly unusual practice of a Cabinet-level official physically running her own email would have given Clinton, the presumptive Democratic presidential candidate, impressive control over limiting access to her message archives.

In most cases, individuals who operate their own email servers are technical experts or users so concerned about issues of privacy and surveillance they take matters into their own hands. It was not immediately clear exactly where Clinton ran that computer system.

Clinton has not described her motivation for using a private email account—hdr22@clintonemail.com, which traced back to her own private email server registered under an apparent pseudonym—for official State Department business.

Operating her own server would have afforded Clinton additional legal opportunities to block government or private subpoenas in criminal, administrative or civil cases because her lawyers could object in court before being forced to turn over any emails. And since the Secret Service was guarding Clinton’s home, an email server there would have been well protected from theft or a physical hacking.

It was unclear whom Clinton hired to set up or maintain her private email server, which the AP traced to a mysterious identity, Eric Hoteham. That name does not appear in public records databases, campaign contribution records or Internet background searches. Hoteham was listed as the customer at Clinton’s $1.7 million home on Old House Lane in Chappaqua in records victimregistering the Internet address for her email server since August 2010.

The Hoteham personality also is associated with a separate email server, presidentclinton.com, and a non-functioning website, wjcoffice.com, all linked to the same residential Internet account as Mrs. Clinton’s email server. The former president’s full name is William Jefferson Clinton.

Minions of the Hoteham have announced that some 55,000 pages of emails involving the death’s-head have been turned over to the government, but people who want any more than that can just bugger right off.

[Hoteham] had turned over 55,000 pages of emails to the State Department—yet only after her aides had vetted the massive collection of emails and decided which ones to give to the agency.

However, we here at red have secured the services of legendary computer sleuth E Pluribus Unum, who has succeeded in extracting from the Hoteham bunker a number of emails sent by the death’s-head that were not delivered to the government. These include the following:

Get the lawyers to research election law and see if the blacks can be prevented from voting in 2016, since they already got a president.

Somebody ask Bill if he ever put his penis into anyone related to Biden. If so, maybe we can use that as blackmail to keep that ditz from Challenging me.

Find out where they took the Gaddafi body and get me the head. I want to mount it in the sixth bathroom of the fourth house.

Are they still flying coke into Mena? I need some.

Return Of The Nimrod

dr strange ben

Eternal Recurrence

Under the bunker, where the reek of kerosene
Prepared the marriage rite, leader and whore,
Imperfect kindling even in this wind, burn on.

Someone in uniform hums Brahms. Servants prepare
Eyewitness stories as the night comes down, ha. ha.as smoking coals await
Boots on the stone, the occupying troops. Howl ministers.

Deep in Kyffhauser Mountain’s underground,
The Holy Roman Emperor snores on, in sleep enduring
Seven centuries. His long red beard

Grows through the table to the floor. He moves a little.
Far in the labyrinth, low thunder rumbles and dies out.
Twitch and lie still. Is Hitler now in the Himalayas?

We are in Cleveland, or Sioux Falls. The architecture
Seems like Omaha, the air pumped in from Düsseldorf.
Cold rain keeps dripping just outside the bars. The testicles

Burst on the table as the commissar
Untwists the vise, removes his gloves, puts down
Izvestia. (Old saboteurs, controlled by Trotsky’s

Scheming and unconquered ghost, still threaten Novgorod.)
—And not far from the pits, these bones of ours,
Burned, bleached, and splintering, are shoveled, ready for the fields.

—Weldon Kees, “Dead March”

Looking

And as the Science Man craft Dawn approaches the planet Ceres, on a mission to Look, seems Ceres is Looking back.

Not long after images of Ceres revealed a strange lookingreflective spot, another dimmer one came into view in the latest NASA images, giving the appearance of a spooky pair of eyes peering back at Dawn.

So what’s going on here? Metallic mineral deposits? The local ice skating rink on an improbably shiny frozen lake in the bottom of a huge crater? A giant Ceresian mirror or solar farm?

The answer is . . . we have no idea.

well we’re here and we’re waiting
lookin’ at you lookin’ at we lookin’ at you
anticipating
each and every each and every . . . 
lookin’ at you lookin’ at me lookin’ at you
lookin’ at me lookin’ at you lookin’ at me lookin’ at you . . . .

And That’s The Ballgame

Parting Such Sweet Sorrow

Apparently some people are having a Disapproval about the above Saturday Night Live parody ad.

They believe it cruelly and wrongly mocks the below ad from Toyota.

The Toyota ad is pure filth. It encourages fathers to raise daughters to become serial killers. It endorses the global death cult of the United States military. It is vile and disgusting—a wank for Thanatos—and it should be mocked.

The outrage should be directed at Toyota, not at SNL. Whether you raise your daughter to kill for ISIL, or to kill for the US, you have failed. You have produced a killer. Served as an agent of Death.


When I Worked

March 2015
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