My primary complaint about the facility was it’s location - who the fekk wants Salt Lake City as the primary cultural attraction? Now nestling in VA was swell and good and D.C. is a toddling town with fresh blue-crab-jimmies from the Not-so-distant ‘burbs.

But SLC? Dinner shows of Oklahoma reign supreme. The Fuller Brush Man visits monthly so you can keep your Florsheims spit-polished and the Texaco Man (whom you can trust, as he wears a Star) keeps your Hudson humming and road-ready. USO every Thursday night and Saturday Bond Drives for our Continuing War Effort against Communism and Short Skirts.

I do not. I do not. I do not doubt for one minute that the facility continues to keep tabs on American Citizens (although the NSA semi-denies that it is still doing so - it’s all Classified, ya know).

I worry about a Mormon coup. I believe that the Elders of the Morman church are in cahoots with the Mormon-majority of NSA employees at the Bluffdale facility and that they have a plan to shut down D.C. and to move the Capitol to SLC. It could happen this weekend, but they may wait until Romney is in the Senate so that he can declare a kind of ‘official’ regency over the Trump administration.

Which brings up one other point: rodents can ‘pass’ cognitive tests and I had no doubt that our C-in-C could pass same. But, please, do we simply believe that he would lose interest if given something such as the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory?

Sheesh.

Let me tell you the difference between sociopaths and psychopaths. The former cannot help but display their aberrant behaviors to others. We psychopaths are so good at masking our aberrant behaviors that you would never believe us capable of those things that you could never believe us capable of doing. Does anyone doubt that? Honestly? No politics here (I’ve promised never to speak of politics here... or Constitutional Law (seriously; Constitutional Law is really boring, for the most part)) just a reaction to the Things We Dare Not Speak.

I have not checked the news lately. The Mormon coup might have already occurred. Or Congress may have passed another Temporary Budget Bill that prohibits chihuahuas from being arrested and re-patriated to the State of Chihuahua in Mexico.

I don’t expect much from government any longer. I think that it started in June of 1968. I have had a Brain Fever since that time. Time. One-half century of memories. Time to die. Time. To die. Let it be quick and not some long-drawn-out Elizabethan death-play.

I am not a skilled selfie photographer. I am a camera-child, a child of film, Kodachrome 25, D-76 and stop bath. Broncolor strobes, Sinar and Hasselblad. Nikon and Canon. I navigated darkrooms by smell.

I’m guessing that I owe, at least, nine selfies to the NSA. All of my real body, bones and skin and scars.

How real am I online? Jesus. I don’t have any reason to hide anything. I am as crazy as you can accept; I am as crazy as I ought to be.