Patriot Acts Between Consenting Adults

The corporate media narrative that Trump is “giving” $1.8 billion to January 6 protestors (those 100+ grannies, cancer patients, and vandals held in decrepit D.C. jails for months with no trial dates), reminds me of President Obama’s gift to me: my coffee date with a really hot Secret Service agent.

The current kerfuffle is more fake news. The $1.8 billion, settlement money paid to Trump because he sued the federal government (for a much larger amount), is now in a fund with 5 trustees, available to pay compensation to anyone the government has used leaks, lawfare or other means to destroy. As it turns out, the first claim is not from a J6 vandal. It’s from Michael Caputo, an HHS appointee bankrupted by Democrats with Russia Hoax prosecutions while he was being treated for cancer. (Apparently the people promoting the fake news that this is a slush fund for those dangerous septuagenarian Jan. Sixers include Congresspeople currently voting themselves a $500,000 payout for each incident where the Obama-Biden administrations spied on them illegally.) Today I heard some Democrat Congressman on The Will Cain Show claim that this weaponizations fund for “criminals” makes us all unsafe. That was his whataboutist attempt at a tu quoque argument that the GOP is just as bad as Biden letting rapist and killers into the country with no vetting, or Soros-funded Attorneys General releasing illegal alien murderers, since it would be “unfair” to prosecute them as it would lead to the “unequal” punishment of also being deported, unlike native born killers.

Back to my coffee date. I was under surveillance by the feds, and in my “coffee date” meeting with one of their hotter employees he let slip the embarrassing information they had on me. I had tweaked some Facebook meme for my own purposes, when President Obama (and Senator Durbin) made it a priority to snatch away not only the milk cartons (“Margaret Thatcher, milk snatcher”) but the school lunches and the educations of the DC kids (99% African American) who use the DC voucher system to go to a Moslem, Catholic, or other private school. The meme I revised depicted Michelle Obama as Marie Antoinette, she of if they have no bread “let them eat cake” infamy.

Apparently depicting First Lady Obama as a European royal who was sent to the guillotine is a threat to the First Family that requires investigation. Literally required - I think FBI and Secret Service protocols committed them to investigate every single instance that could be so construed. Though one suspects some instances are more equal than others.

So first I received a voicemail from someone in the Secret Service saying they needed to talk to me. They may have even said what it was about. I thought it was so lame to leave a voicemail for someone you imagine is violent that I ignored them.

Then my neighbor (a former press person for Clinton administration Secretary of Commerce Ron Brown) said when she left her apartment two men were outside my door leaving a business card, around 11 am in the morning. They were Secret Service agents coming unannounced to interview me. I think at the time I was across the street swimming, with my cell phone in a locker, which one would think they could track. (Maybe both locations ping the same cell tower?) She said one of them asked what I looked like (can they not access driver’s license photos?) and she, thinking, as she told me later, that they seemed rather thick, said “Bruce actually looks a lot like you.”

I continued to ignore them.

But then a few months later I got a knock on a door at an apartment I was renting in Annapolis, Maryland. (It had a pool; I had rented it to register to vote somewhere where I could vote for Ron Paul in a real primary; I had gone door to door to distribute Paul campaign literature.) I opened it and a tall muscular man with cornflower blue eyes, porcelain skin, and delicate features that were almost girlish stood in the door. Wearing casual clothes. (Armani Exchange?) He was an FBI agent.

At first I thought he was the same agent who’d come to my door in DC and met my neighbor, and so one of the first things I said was that he doesn’t look anything like me. (So he may have thought I was a bit crazy.) As it turns out, the Baltimore FBI office covers Annapolis, so he was a different agent from a different FBI office. I declined to let him in my apartment so we went to a Starbucks a block away, and he unpacked his copious stack of photocopied forms with the questions he was supposed to ask me, akin to the rote questions bureaucracies give staff to interview prospective employees. He would suggest answers that were always wrong. “You’re 5’11” right?” I’m 5’9” on a good day. “No, you are 5’11” so it’s obvious I’m not.” All the other suggested answers he gave “inflated” my attractiveness in some way. It was perhaps a test for delusional grandiosity.

Eventually this honeypot (?) let slip that they knew all the email addresses I use, like “AnnapolisFun@comcast.net,” which I used to answer gay dating ads. Did they think I was a Bob Bauman or Larry Craig, who could be embarrassed or manipulated by imagined “secrets”? One assumes this meant that any email correspondence - from any address - I had, had been read by them.

Before our interview ended I expressed a little guilt. Chris (I think that was the agent’s name) seemed like a decent-ish guy, allegedly was mandated to check these leads, and was wasting tax dollars. Did I cause that waste?

Weeks later, James von Brunn, a loon from Annapolis, drove to DC to shoot people at the Holocaust Museum, killing a security guard. The FBI hadn’t noticed him, though I believe he had a social media footprint.

But then, he hadn’t made fun of Michelle Obama.

A shorter version of this was published last week at SpliceToday.