Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Just how stupid do you have to be to blame people, criticize people

posted by Bill Arnett @ 9:53 AM Permalink

…relentlessly, lay blame on those not responsible for a security breach, start calling a President weak on security, and declaring that Janet Napolitino is incapable of securing our border using security measures devised and implemented by the bush /cheney maladministration?

And why are they now going to spend hundreds of millions of dollars for new machines when a well-trained bomb dog, for a tiny, tiny, fraction of the cost, would have smelled he explosive power being carried by the alleged bomber?

Have we abandoned all commonsense?

Do we now believe that in this time of fiscal austerity we have billions of dollars more to spend on machines that don't work, staffed by people ill-trained and unable to make them work properly?

Are president Obama and Jane Napolitino to be endlessly criticized because the security systems devised by bush/cheney didn't work? To still be endlessly criticized by cheney, who just loves the roll of the big talking Dick?

Doesn't the fact that it was a foreign airport that allowed the bomber on the plane despite the many warning signs that an ignorant fool could plainly see carry any weight? And how can Obama and Napolitino be faulted for the obvious failure of people over whom Omana and Napolitino exercised zero control at of the foreign airport that allowed the bomber on a plane count for nothing?

All we'll hear for weeks now on cable TV is how Obama screwed up, how Obama should ignore deficits to make us safe (not healthier, oh no, not healthier) to buy evermore expensive machines when our four-footed friends of the canine variety would do a better job?

True story: A cargo plane was ready to leave Ubon, Thailand. The dogs giving it a last check gave their signal for a drug alert. The plane was emptied and searched to the last bolt. No Drugs were found, so the plane took off and landed at Clark AB, Philippines. The drug dogs went nuts, clearly alerting to the scent of drugs. The plane was again emptied and inspected to the very last bolt; no drugs were found, plane reloaded and sent on its way. When it landed at Travis AFB, California, the dogs again went crazy with drug alerts, so the Air Force decided to find out why. They stripped the plane, opened every crate being transported, inspected it to the last bolt, and the dogs were still going nuts. The plane's commander ordered all fuel and oil tanks drained so they could be inspected. With the fuel, no hit. The oil, on the other, made the dogs go nuts. They finally figured out that some drug smuggler had found a way to dissolve heroin into the oil, where, on the other end, it was extracted using a highly sophisticated filtering system and returned to it's natural state of 99% pure heroin.

It's a known and proven fact that if you train a german shephard to find salt, a not too odiferous substance, put five 55-gallon barrels of water side-by-side, put one teaspoon of salt into ONE drum (a ratio of one million to one), that dog will correctly identify the barrel with the salt in it EVERY TIME.

So don't tell me a properly trained dog, at a cost of a few thousand dollars, can't outperform million dollar machines with a very high failure rate.

Efforts to fit major airports with devices capable of ferreting out the best-concealed bombs have a long way to go. Even state of the art bomb detectors suffer from a welter of drawbacks, ranging from frustratingly slow operation to astronomical cost and, in some cases, an all-too-high failure rate.[…]

The problem, as Graseby's sales manager, Geoffrey Greenhough, readily concedes, is that Plastec can never be a first line of defense.

"X-ray machines will always be the primary screening devices," he said. "They can process things like carry-on bags far faster as they roll along a conveyor belt." If the X-ray picture raises suspicions, the bag can be re-tested for explosives.
Take a look here also:
On Monday morning, September 14, 2009, the Joint Terrorism Task Force executed multiple search warrants in the Borough of Queens, New York. A Denver man was arrested and then released in connection with the terrorism raids. He had recently traveled to Pakistan and then, according to ABC News, showed up in New York last Thursday, September 10, with bomb-making documents. The question no one has asked is how was he able to fly around the world and in the United States unchallenged when thousands of innocent Americans are hassled by Transportation Security Administration agents every day.

If you think you’re safe getting on a plane in the United States — think again. The hundreds of billions of dollars we have spent on security and the huge Homeland Security workforce we have added to the federal payroll make for a feel-good marketing strategy that only fools us into believing we are safer. The truth is, the weaknesses in aviation security that were there prior to 9/11 are still there today.

The biggest danger we face is government agencies so sloppy and arrogant in their collection and distribution of intelligence that huge selectee and no-fly lists do not include some of the most dangerous terrorists. At the Central Intelligence Agency and Defense Intelligence Agency certain names and aliases are kept from the airlines and off the no-fly list to protect intelligence assets who are suspected or known terrorists. In other instances our intelligence agencies keep names off the list at the request of allies such as Pakistan and Saudi Arabia.
So whether it be from millions of dollars of equipment that doesn't work, to the lack of use of "old-fashioned" equipment like dogs that do work, well-trained personnel replaced with ill-trained, sometimes convicted felons, well, it's plain that the hugh sums of money recklessly borrowed and spent by bush/cheney haven't done a damned thing to make us any safer,

Regardless of what Big Dick Cheney says,

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Monday, December 28, 2009

Sweet Jane

posted by The Sailor @ 5:23 PM Permalink

Jane Hamsher, a wonderful progressive blogger who helped encourage and activate many people for the progressive cause, just signed a deal with the devil.

Open letter:
Dear Ms. Hamsher,

I don't care about your reasons. I don't care why you went on Fux Newz to make this announcement, and I no longer care about anything you have to say or write.

You want to complain about Rahm, cool, I'm right there with you. You think policies and laws coming out of this administration aren't what we voted for, I'm right there with you. But if you want to make nice with Grover "I don't want to abolish government. I simply want to reduce it to the size where I can drag it into the bathroom and drown it in the bathtub" Norquist!? on Fux Newz!?

With a little editing, The Beatles said it better than I can:

You say you want a revolution, alright.
But if you make money for people with minds that hate, you can count me out.
But when you talk about destruction you can count me out.

Jane, you can count me out.

Cross posted at SteveAudio

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Friday, December 25, 2009

As promised: The Don Caruthers Scam that gained me entrance to anyone's house I wanted or needed to enter to catch a bail skip…

posted by Bill Arnett @ 9:45 PM Permalink

…which, although it worked well for me seemed to scare every other skiptracer (the term most of the real deal bounty hunters preferred to be called, typically, because of the bad connotations associated with those words, "Bounty Hunters.") half-to-death, and, because they believed it could not work for them, that was the truth, it would never work for them, as it calls for first-rate acting, supreme confidence, and the certain knowledge that you could make it work.

I'll do this the easy way by detailing how and why I created this scam, totally my baby, using the example of the skip I was chasing.

It was the very first time I had ever been dispatched on a skip from Sacramento, which really p.o'd the other bounty hunter that did the locate and that he was demanding to go get her himself as she had been a very difficult locate with less than 48 hours left before the forfeiture became final. One of, pre-Reagan, Reagan's welfare queens driving Cadillacs, lots of expensive jewelry, on welfare in about twelve different counties, etc. Dave, let's call him,, however, had a real talent for tearing up rental cars, eating nothing but steaks, and living the highlife at company expense. So I was sent, a totally roll-the-dice move by my old boss, future partner, who wanted to test me. It was a $50,000 bond, August 31, 1977, final forfeiture September 2, 1977.

Anything under 1,500 miles I preferred to drive instead of fly and rent cars (all rental cars back then looked like undercover police cars). As she was just down in Long Beach I drove down there, arrived about 9 p.m., scouted out the neighborhood, and then found a new car dealership that had a pay phone w-a-a-a-y in the back of the lot that you would have missed were you not looking for a pay phone (this was long before cell phones).

I called my boss, gave him the lay of the land, requested instructions, and was told to find a way into the house with no ideas or instruction given as to how. I was, after all, being tested.

So I pulled an old business card out of my wallet, wrote the name "Don Caruthers" on the back along with the address of the skip's house and the phone number of the remote pay phone where I was.

I drove around to the house, not even trying to be sneaky, shut off the car, opened the door, observed someone peeking out the curtains, Stretched, yawned, grabbed my kit bag, walked up to the door and pressed the buzzer. A middle-aged woman opened the door and the following ensued:

She: What do you want?
Me (all bubbly like I was relieved to finally be there): Hey, how are you ma'am. Would you be Mrs. Caruthers by chance?
She: Who?
Me (reaching for my wallet and pulling out the card I had prepared): Uh, Mrs Don Caruthers? This is 113 South B Street? (I held the card up so she could see it.)
She: Well you've got the right address, but I don't know any Don Caruthers.
Me: (crestfallen, smile coming off my face, looking distressed): But ma'am, I've just driven nine hours down here from South Lake Tahoe because Mr Caruthers was supposed to have several weeks employment painting for me to do. Aw, man, now what am I gonna do? OH, wait, This is 113 South B Street, right?
She: yes.
Me: That must be it, I probably wrote south when I meant north. Is 113 North B down that way?
She: No, South B ends about a block and a half from here and there isn't any North. You have a phone number for him written there on the card card. Have you tried calling him?
ME: No,ma'am. It took every penny I had to get here.
She: Well, come on inside and try calling him, it is a local number.
Me:Oh, god, thank you ma'am.
(Entered the house with her, three other people there, multitude of weapons on the walls and tables. She asks for the card, I give it to her, she dials the number, hands me back the card, and gives me the phone. After about three or four minutes of no answer I hung up, sat there pensively, and then brightened up and asked if I could call my dad in Sacramento, strictly collect of course, to double check my information. She consented so I call the main bonding company I worked for and asked for my dad. Every bail agent working there knew me, what I did, and to accept collect calls, no questions asked.)
Me: Hi, Stewie, go get Dad for me. (The agent on duty was a little slow n the uptake.)
Agent: This is Bill, right? Who are you asking for?
Me: Stewie, quit clowning around, I'm calling from someone else's house so get him now, please, I gotta talk to Dad. (I cover the mouthpiece and tell the people there: Stewie's only 11, it's way past his bedtime and he gets goofy.)
Agent: Oh! Oh! Hell I'm sorry, you want…Leonard… don't you. Hang on, I'm switching this to the back, he's been waiting for you to call.
Leonard: Are you inside the house? Me: Yeah, but there's no Don Caruthers here. Would you check your rolodex and see if I have the right address and phone (and read what I'd written back to him.)
Leonard, laughing: And that really got you into the house? Me: yeah, Dad, I'm already in Long Beach, but you either gave me the wrong info or I wrote it down wrong. Leonard: How many people in the house? Me: The last time I ate was around four. Leonard: Is our skip…JoAnn…there? Me: No, Dad, i'm sure I didn't make any wrong turns. Leonard: How many rooms? Me; I tried calling you back abut six to see it you could send money. I'm broke. Leonard: Any guns in sight? Me: All over the place.(A whole series of questions followed so Leonard could make a map on his pad; how many houses down from the intersection, color of the house, etc) Leonard: can you stall them for another fifteen minutes? Me: Ma'am, my Dad's gotta go about three blocks to his office, would you mind if I wait here? She: No, not at all. Me: Would you give me your number so my Dad can call back direct from his office? She: (eyes narrowed, smile diminished, I could tell she didn't like the question, but) I guess so, area code 988, 857-6667. (I relayed that to Leonard so we now had a phone number we could pull for information in case JoAnn wasn't around.) Me: O.k. Dad, I'll hang tight for fifteen minutes but then I've gotta boogey, I imagine these people have more to do than put up with some lost guy. Okay, Okay, I'll wait.(hung up the phone.)

An old guy there headed for the kitchen and asked everybody if they wanted a beer, including me, which I reluctantly accepted, empty stomach and all. About the time we were finishing the beer the phone rang. The middle-aged lady I first spoke to handed the phone to me, saying, "It's your father." ME: Hi, Dad, did you find that info on Mr. Caruthers? Why not? (Leonard: Time for you to break it off and get the hell out of there. LBPD tells me everyone there has have some heavy beefs at that house, and that old man that owns the place has beaten two manslaughter charges for shooting people trying to get into the house. [That explained all the guns. Bill] Me: well, I'm not happy about it but i guess I don't have any choice. You are going to wire me some money though, right? Then I'm gonna go find a place to crash. (Hung up, said my good-byes and thank you's to everyone and split.

I went a couple miles away, called Leonard to let him know where I was, and we figured I'd have to find my way back into the house and await delivery of welfare checks if possible the next day.

About 9:30 a.m. the next day I showed up on their doorstep with a case of Bud in hand, told them I wanted to thank them for their kindness the night before and that my Dad would have the right address and phone number for Don Caruthers soon so I wold soon be at work. They were surprised, but grateful and invited me in. Just before the beer ran out the postman came by and put their mail in their box.

The middle-aged woman (I found out later she was JoAnn's mom) practically ran for the mail, flipped through eight or ten envelopes until she hit a little yellow slip, spun around and almost shouted, "That bitch put in a change of address! How are we gonna get those checks now?"

I quickly excused myself, drove around to the closest post office I'd seen the night before and did what anyone used to be able to do: I stood in line 'til I got to the counter, fished out the princely sum of $1.00 (Yes, one dollar), and asked for a copy of the change of address for JoAnn from 113 South B Street to her new address. New address in hand I split, located the new address, which happened to be across the street from a diner; ah! Comfort! Food! Perfect view of JoAnn's new house! LBPD primed and ready, it was heaven!

Before my burger and fries got to me she came home with several other people. I called LBPD and they sent two squad cars with the four biggest police officers I've ever seen, The smallest had to be six-foot five, 230 pound lbs, I went out front to meet them. Sr JoAnn had showed, LBPD showed, I showed with the paperwork and picture, she went to jail, and I got to eat my burgers and fries.

BTW: One of the most incredible things was the unspoken mental communication bordering on a physic connection between Leonard and me. Whenever I returned to town from picking up a skip there was always an almost perfect hand-drawn map, layout of all the streets, houses, cars phone numbers, where everything was and every detail i'd given Leonard immaculately drawn on Leonard's yellow legal pad that absolutely mirrored everything and every piece information i'd given him. It was spooky. [Which some of our readers can tell you was the nickname for the Holy Ghost in a Robert Heinlein story [h/t to DanD]

And I proved that I was smart enough, quick thinking enough, glib enough, and fearless enough to run improvised scams, eager enough to throw myself into dangerous situations, and more than good enough to catch bail skips for the next fifteen years.

And it was a gas, gas,gas!

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Wednesday, December 23, 2009

She Blinded Me With Science

posted by The Sailor @ 9:26 PM Permalink

Scientoid News CERN, Switzerland. December 19th 2009

The Large Hardon Collider had a limited success this month before having to be shut down due to a lack of lubrication. The experiment ran for four hours before scientists realized that the containment vessel had lost its charm. Truth and beauty were still trapped, but as chief scientist Adam N. Steve explained "Every experiment has it's quarks, we believe in the essential potency of the Large Hardon Collider and will explore every avenue to the Big Bang."

In this initial effort to stimulate the Big Bang it was found that spontaneous field emissions covered some sensors and resulted in the Higgs bosom being torqued, instead of tweaked. Various materials were experimented with before it was discovered that simple latex, when applied after initially exciting the protons, and before insertion into the main cyclotron, provided essential protection. Dr. Steve took some ribbing for his solution but added "this is just the tip of the reservoir of knowledge we need to expand in."

Scientists around the world immediately lepton this news. "Heisenberg would be uncertain, but I'm thrilled," exclaimed one scientist who immediately rolled over and took a nap.

Unfortunately Dr. Steve stumbled over an unpredicted fermion and hit the evacuation button prematurely. "In the final outcome," he stated, "no matter was created or destroyed ... but my humorous took quite a blow. And damn, that's gonna leave a mark."

This has been a pubic service announcement.

This post was inspired by Thers and commenters at Whiskey Fire.


Thar's a new game in town if you lose in the congress or senate…

posted by Bill Arnett @ 1:34 PM Permalink

…and just can't follow the precepts and tradition of majority rule.

If you're a republican that loses and there's a piece of legislation fixin' to pass that you don't like, recruit Attorneys General from different states (but still republican) to start allegations of vote buying and incentives being given to an individual congressman or senator as illegal and in violation of various constitutions, federal and state.

Any dumbshit elected to a public office and that serves any time in office will obviously learn that the "give and take" within legislative bodies is how these bodies operate, and that it is as old as that hallowed trade of prostitution, and that nothing would ever get done without it.

All these idiots, politicians, MSM, and any well-informed citizen has always known that.

GOP. Goofy Old Pricks.

ADVISORY: I always say that when you are confronted by or must deal with a dumbshit, be NICE, for when dumbshits inherit the earth you might be talking to the one that will be in charge. This has been a public service announcement.

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I suppose I just look at many things with a jaundiced eye in light of my life experience and the choices I've made…

posted by Bill Arnett @ 10:46 AM Permalink

…but slowly, through the years, Christmas and those so-called, "Spirit of the holidays…" that prompts people to go out and spend more than they can afford to try and bring a little semblance of peace, happiness, and celebrate the birth of their Savior by partying, going further into debt to buy gifts, and who think not at all of what Christmas is supposed to really be about.

Even I participated in the charade and parade of decadence in the past, especially when my son, Jesse, was just a youngster. We never went to church (I haven't been inside a church since 1966), but I always wanted my son to participate in the fun of a Christmas morning, the hugh trees, tons of presents (I never used credit cards then, didn't have any. If you can't afford to pay cash, you can't afford it), and the fun and camaraderie of his peers as they showed off their gifts, played with their toys, and just had nothing but fun on Christmas Day. I have to admit I enjoyed that part of the holiday.

Another benefit of the holidays were the personal visits or the calls home to momma made by my bail skips. Mother's Day, Father's Day, Thanksgiving and Christmas, the quartet that would allow me to make money hand over fist from just pulling phone bills in the days after and chasing down the collect calls.

Through the years it slowly dawned on me that I wasn't really that much different than the retailers that have so bastardized all the holidays, but especially Christmas, as I recognized that these holidays weren't to celebrate the birth of Christ. Christ would have wanted people to love ALL the other people, peace on earth, and to see that the very least amongst us had the means to join in the celebration.

I used to imagine Jesus, if he exists, watching from above, weeping that the tenants for which he gave his mortal life had disappeared, swallowed by greed, avarice, and the giving among people the gifts that would just turn into a mantlepiece, a broken toy never played with, bountiful foods served to people who didn't need it and blessing only those who sacrificed in their personal life to work distributing food to the poor, cooking for the poor, donating to the poor.

And I guess that's when I stopped believing in Jesus, God, and the Holy Ghost (did they ever find a name for him?). There can be no omnipotent God overlooking this planet filled with disease, famine, millions killed and displaced in illegal wars, the aids academic in Africa, and all the children living in poverty here, in the richest country on earth (although I don't believe we're th richest to be true anymore either) much less elswhere, the ill and infirm, the poor having to chose between opening a fresh can of dog or cat food or breaking in half one of the pills vital to their health and maybe doing a half-dose which only serves to prolong their suffering instead of making them well.

No one will ever convince me that there is a kind and merciful god overlooking humanity that could possibly like what he sees, his creation, the evil running rampant in the world that will sooner or later end all life on this planet and, after a few hundred million years from now have passed, maybe then the god that so many people worship under various names and differing religions would give humanity another chance.

I'm betting that the reptiles would come back and rule the earth for another 125,000,000 years or so, or maybe just permanently. Mankind has sure turned out to be a bust.

But for our readers who believe in Christ, I do wish you a happy holiday; I just wish everyone lived as they know they should, share as they know they should, and cared for the least of us as they should.

As to me, I, too, completely lost sight of what the celebration of Christmas was for and used this holiday, among others, to make money. I guess the main difference between me and retailers was that retailers were trying to make their nut for the whole year, while I used it to return scumbags, fugitives, absconds, bail skips, ascribe whatever appellation to them you will, to return them to custody where many, many of them deserved to be.

So while I am in no position to judge anyone else for the beliefs they hold, I feel they should be equally respectful of the belief I hold as to there being absolutely no all powerful, all knowing deity, whose praises are sung while evil men with evil intent work ever harder to marginalize even more of society, close the doors to education, health care, feeding the poor whose numbers grow greater each and every year, and improving anyone's quality of life and enriching even more the lives of those already rich.

As unemployment keeps increasing, does anyone doubt that we will eventually be seeing food riots? Anyone doubt our Emergency Rooms will only grow further swamped by people with no insurance, driving up health care costs to the point only the very, very wealthy will have their own physicians to monitor and extend their lives? Any doubt more and more homeless, thousands of them war veterans unable to readjust, will die from exposure to the elements, starvation, ill-health and a raft of other reasons?

I used to stop almost every time I'd see one of these poor people living in the street, and if I had $5 on me I'd give it to them with the admonition to go eat and not spend it on booze. C'mon people, can it really hurt you that much to give a lousy five dollars to a food kitchen, charitable organizations, those churches that actually do get out there and do good works. Or drop off a bag of food, a turkey or a ham, lots of canned nonperishables, distribute jackets, blankets and clothing? That, to me, is what Christmas should be about. Take the other 364 days to gorge yourself, spoil yourself, spoil others, and spread wealth to people who don't need it, don't use it in vain of him whom you worship. That's hypocrisy walking a tightrope at 100,000 feet without a net, or at least more net than the rest of us can afford.

This is a country of over 300,000,000, a donation of five dollars per person in a household would pay for so much with the 1.5 billion dollars resulting paying for our direst needs. Health care for every American from cradle to grave. Infrastructure repair that the government could order started tomorrow would provide hundreds of thousands of jobs. Banks snivel that they can't fill positions without $500,000 salaries and millions in bonuses. Bullshit! Tell that to all the college students that can't find a job. They'll find plenty of people more than willing to work for that kind of money. if they would look for employees instead of government handouts.

Aw, that's enough. I'm telling you things you already know now, and with less eloquence than many who came before me.

If you celebrate Christmas, please take just a few minutes to contemplate how Jesus would really like to see his birth celebrated. If he ever existed at all. And remember, there will be lots and lots of people, like I used to be, out making arrests, gathering intel for future busts, and those that don't necessarily serve man as a whole, but whose benefit to society in general cannot be denied.


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Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Sweet Charity

posted by The Sailor @ 2:15 PM Permalink

This story at C&L caught my eye:
A Tale of Christmas Magic at the Aramingo Diner

Last Saturday, Dec. 5th, something startling and wonderful happened at The Aramingo Diner in Port Richmond.
The manager on duty, Linda [...] tells me that a couple in their 30s paid their check at the register, then asked the cashier to let them secretly pay the check of another couple in the dining room - a couple they didn't know.

"They just wanted to do it," she said. "They thought it would be a nice thing to do."

When the unsuspecting patrons went to pay their check, they were floored to find out that strangers had picked up their tab. So they asked the cashier to let them pay another table's check, also anonymously.
For two hours, delighted customer after delighted customer continued to pay the favor forward. And a buzz began to grow. Not among patrons, who had no inkling what was going down at the register, but among the dining-room wait staff - Marvin, Rosie, Jasmine and Lynn - and other Aramingo workers moving in and out of the room.
I did something similar yesterday. Where I work we have a hiring freeze, raises canceled, healthcare bennies cut back, (the last strikes me as ironic because we do medical research.) But I still have a job and it pays fairly well. To quote my friend Bill Arnett:I. Am. One. Of. The. Lucky. Ones.

So I took the money I would have spent on gifts for people who don't really need them and asked the supervisor of one of our tech support groups to step out into the hall because I had a complaint about his groups' work.
After we were alone I told him my complaint was that they didn't get their bonuses this year. I forked over some cash and told him it was from the research wing and he should distribute it as he saw fit.

Now this particular guy is very conservative, listens and believes Rush, but he's got a good heart and does good work, and I'm willing to bet when he handed out the 'bonuses' he probably added a bit of his own.

This was in addition to what I gave my favorite local charity that does nothing but feed people. No questions, no eval, no bureaucracy; if you walk in they give you a free meal. They're always going to be in my heart because I've been hungry, and being hungry sucks.

I'm not writing about this to tell what a great guy I am, (everyone who knows me well knows I'm not), but just to say if you've got an extra couple of bucks give it to people who need it. What I gave this year stings just a little bit. Heck, I may have to delay my vacation for a month or two. But what little I gave makes a whole lot more difference to the folks I gave it to than to me.

Cross posted at SteveAudio

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And you just can't escape from the sound

posted by The Sailor @ 2:32 AM Permalink

It's happened to all of us, you get a song in your head and you just can't get it out.

Fortunately for me, this time it's a great song:


Thursday, December 17, 2009

Can anyone out here give me a single logical reason why the blame for no/bad health care…

posted by Bill Arnett @ 10:44 PM Permalink

…would be laid at the door of the Democratic Senate when it is the traitorous bastards of the republican party that have sworn to stall, defeat, and or delay anything Obama desires to do, that openly prays and advocates for his failure, and that has even advocated for his death through every nut-bag right wing tea-bagging scum of the religious right that is responsible for all the delays and actively seeking more ways to enrich the donors that have bought and paid for them instead of taking care of the Americans they were elected to serve.

This is a direct consequence of not having imposed term limits for congress and the senate so we could have achieved the dream expressed by Thomas Jefferson and others who envisioned "citizen legislators" who, having been elected would come to congress or the senate for their term of office and then GO HOME as a new group of newly elected legislators would take their place.

The failure to specify this simple point in the Constitution has led America to where it is today, at the mercy of fiefdoms established by incumbents, whom from the instant they are elected must begin raising money for the continuation of their fiefdoms instead of serving their constituents and tending to their needs.

American is now a captive country at the mercy of those who have become mega-rich at the expense of the middle class that is now broken, unemployment so high (50% unemployment in Michigan!) that soon there will be no one left to serve the corporate masters of our politicians and the American Dream is dying as rapidly as the republicans can make it die by their malfeasance and hatred of anyone but old, white, rich men who will soon find themselves washing up on the shores of our pillaged country, wondering where all the cheap labor paying high taxes that served and supported them have gone.

I feel a revolution brewing in America with unemployment, lack of medical care, and rampant starvation and deprivation being inflicted on Americans everyday. We cannot last much longer, fighting wars we can't win, spending money we don't have, with a broken military as seen to by our leaders, and poverty causing crime rates to escalate far beyond the capacity of the police to control.

A complete holocaust that WILL exceed any ability to control or stop it.

And if these stupid phuckers out there can't see what a blind man clearly can, other countries will vaporize us and end the threat imposed by an America gone insane. The Chinese and Russians sure aren't going to wait.

It's been a good, but all too short run for democracy in America and the American Dream.


Just Like Starting Over

posted by The Sailor @ 7:44 PM Permalink

I try to stay out of the mainstream news cycle and bring something to the table you might have missed. But in the case of health care reform I just can't resist.

I thought in this post I would be bringing my insight, my medical expertise, my observations, my personal experiences into one cogent, devastating argument. As it turns out, I'm not only un-original in my thinking, but others have stated my case better.
There is No Drawing Board To Go Back To

Starting Over
My case is:
Point 1) Medicare, Social Security, Medicaid and all civil rights bills were opposed by a powerful minority and barely passed in weakened form. Then they were expanded upon.

Point 2) The process isn't over. If the Senate passes their bill and then it goes to reconciliation with the House bill. That's where we need to focus our attention. But for this to happen the Senate needs to vote for cloture and then vote for their bill.

Point 3) The rethugs are so against anything happening that they've been employing tactics against it since it's mere suggestion, and they are on record as having done so. It really wouldn't matter what President Obama said was his his main agenda, or any agenda this President has, they will do anything, say anything, to do their best to see Obama's administration fail. If it means 45,000 Americans die each year due to lack of healthcare, they don't care. It's how they roll.

And if the history of HCR is any measure, and this bill doesn't happen, then nothing will happen for at least a decade. I can't live with that ... and neither can 450,000 of my fellow citizens.

Cross posted at SteveAudio

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"Hi, operator. This is Officer Caruthers and I have a problem…

posted by Bill Arnett @ 6:24 PM Permalink

…I'm hoping you can help me with.
OP: I'll sure try, officer, what's the problem?
ME: Well, just as I'm coming up for promotion to detective my sergeant is suddenly receiving dun letters from one creditor after another. I know I pay every bill promptly, but I did notice that the problem started about the same time we got a new postal deliveryman in our neighborhood and I hate to jam him up unnecessarily if he's not the one causing the problem, but I have to get this straightened out or I'm gonna lose that promotion.
OP: How can I help?
Me: Well the phone company is among those sending dun letters but my wife and I can't remember if we set it up for the bill to come to our home or our P.O. box, so I need to find out which it is. It does seem we haven't gotten it
OP: And your number?
Me: 916, of course, 666-7777.
OP: Officer that number is listed to a Susan Smith.[half the info I needed already. Bill]
Me. Well, since i'm a police officer we keep our home phone unlisted under Sue's maiden name,
OP: Oh, that's understandable. I do so that going to your home address and it has been paid for this month
ME: Just so I can verify for my Sergeant whether or not there's jut a mix-up in the address or if I need to have a serious talk with my carrier is that going to our mailbox or our home address?
OP: I show the bill going to 109 North B St in Carmichael. ( a major suburb of Sacramento)
Me: Well, that's our address alright. It's either gotta be the carrier or some of the newer kids in the neighborhood that don't liked my squad car parked across the street from them all night; they may just be making trouble for me. Anyway, that's my problem and I do thank you very much for your time.
OP: Your welcome, sir, good-by.
Me: Good-bye, [and once again I had identified to whom an unlisted number belonged and at what address. So scary it eventually scared me at the ease and facility I could sell the most outrageous of lies, that were, for me, infallible, as I was after all a professional liar.]

Next posting I'll run my Don Caruthers scam for you, one which was, again, for me infallible, and for others to scary to even try. This one was designed, implemented, and perfected strictly by me, This was my baby, exclusively.

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"Hello…hello…hello…can you hear me?…hello?

posted by Bill Arnett @ 1:09 AM Permalink

…"I hear you fine, just a little faint, could you speak up?" This was because I had the mouthpiece of my phone mostly covered and holding it down about chest level.
Me: Oh, good! I'm sorry you can't hear we well, this is Raoul Anderson with PacBell (shouting to be heard even faintly) and I'm at the bottom of a pit at a construction site where they tore up and cut our lines by accident. Have you been receiving or making calls normally or full of static and noise?
They: No, every call but this one has been crystal clear. Is this going to disrupt my service?
Me: No, sir, that's why I'm in the bottom of this pit, but I need to know what node I've patched into, would you give me the number I've reached so I can locate it on my connection map? (I'll never forget to elderly gentleman who, being wise in the way of the world said:)
Him: I guess I could do that but I'd need your badge number first.
Me: I work for the phone company and we don't have badges, but if you are patient enough to sit on hold for forty-five minutes to an hour our personnel department will verify my personnel number is D as in David 46972653.
Him: Well, I guess it's okay. this is 555-1234.
Me. All right! I've got your node located, now what's your street address?
Him: Why do you need that?
Me; So I can match up the node with the correct neighborhood and cut this jobs work time in half to make sure there is no disruption of service -I've got to do this on at least another dozen numbers.
Him: Okay, I'm at 109 North B St, are you at that construction site down by the mall?
Me: Why yes sir I am! Look I appreciate your help very much; you shouldn't have any disruption at all. Thank You!
Him: You're welcome. Good luck getting that mess straightened out.
Me; Aw, it'll be easy from here on , sir, thanks again. Good-bye
Him: Good-bye!

The dialogue may have differed from time-to-time, but this scam never failed to get me the address of an unlisted number where I knew a skip to be.

Speak guardedly on your phone: there might be someone like me (pre-retirement) on the other end. Another scam tomorrow on how to get the listing and address on an unlisted number to whom you have no idea it belongs.

There are people trained by me still out there.

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Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Medical care for everyone is a pipe dream, the kind that robs people who aren't…

posted by Bill Arnett @ 10:59 PM Permalink

…even poor of their dreams, financial security, dignity, and their ability to lead ordinary lives not subjugated by back-breaking medical bills that have gone absolutely, insanely, out of control.

I'm one of the "lucky" ones I guess, if you call years of suffering from Agent Orange caused cancers, months of chemo, six weeks and 6,000 rads of radiation therapy, ending with a radical neck dissection (a term of art in the medical field) meaning they put me out, opened the left side of my face, neck, and shoulder with a single l-o-o-o-n-n-g cut from up behind my left ear down to my collar bone and then started cutting out cancerous-looking material, sending it to the lab, and kept doing this until 8 1/2 hours later the lab sent back word that the sample was cancer-free. They removed almost everything, closed off several veins, severed irrevocably my fifth and 11th cranial nerves and the long thoracic nerves, leaving me in eternal pain. I have a block of muscles beneath the "winged scapula" on my left side that are permanently cramped and cannot receive a reciprocal signal from my brain that everything's o.k., relax, because of the severed nerves the lines are down. Imagine Barry Bond whacking you at the bottom of your left scapula repeatedly over and over, never stopping. The severing of the fifth cranial nerve has resulted in a necrotic (dead) jawbone and they told me I would probably lose all my teeth by age 50. Ha! I fooled them, I still have almost 16 complete teeth left!

And I'm one of the lucky ones. I still have many issues of the mental kind, but I AM one of the lucky ones and here's why:

About two weeks ago I was having trouble breathing, something not unusual in light of every cartilaginous structure in my throat suffering from radiation scarring, but usually manifesting itself as difficulties swallowing.

My Warrior Woman wife, Mila, wouldn't let me rest until I went to the VA clinic to see my doctor. My doctor immediately sent me to urgent care, urgent care doctors there sent me to our County Hospital. I was put into a private room (received all my morphine intravenously. Yee haw! first true relief from pain in months). I'm one of the lucky ones.

Double pneumonia was the diagnosis, so loads and loads of medicines through the I.V. and a 'script for some very powerful antibiotics and I was sent home.

I m one of the lucky ones. In today's mail I received a copy of the billing to the V.A. from the County Hospital, which caused my heart to drop to somewhere around my ankles until I read the admonitions that they were not to bother me or attempt to collect the bill from me, that the V.A. was picking up the whole tab. I really was one of the lucky ones.

The total tab: $17,500.00 (seventeen thousand five hundred dollars) One night in the hospital that would have broken me even if I was healthy and working. How do people pay these bills? Do the hospitals really pack the bill when they know they are going to get paid by a government entity? The destitute would not have gotten either the quality of care, the individual room, nurses checking them every twenty-thirty minutes, in fact, the only thing that would have been equal(ly) bad would have been the disgusting food, half of which I could not identify. This one night would have bankrupted every single friend I have, and many of those are affluent, but, as with most of the affluent, their money sunk into mortgages, swimming pools, BMWs or Mercedes, plummeting stock markets and sinking money market accounts, and the two or three of them I've talked to said this would be a major, major setback for them and probably catastrophic.

I'm one of the lucky ones. Cradle to grave free or even low cost health insurance as provided by every major industrial country on earth to its citizens is a pipe dream, a fantasy, a fairy tale told to help subjugate, pacify, and keep the masses from learning the true cost of health care and the reasons for which universal health can NEVER come to fruition in America, despite anything our "elected representatives" say to the contrary Big Medicine charging a years salary or more for a one night stay and Big Pharma, which sells cheap drugs everywhere and to anybody but the poor bastards living in America, you know, those of us close enough to be told to drop our drawers, bend over, and grab our ankles while we get screwed without a kiss, dinner, or a movie.

I'm one of the lucky ones, although I paid a terrible cost in the past that gave me the entitlement to future care, I am one of the lucky ones.

Lucky. Ones. My country being destroyed by the millionaire white man's club (the senate) and other politicians without a care other than safeguarding their jobs, no matter how awfully they sell out the people who sent them there. After all, when a politician has been bought that S.O.B. HAD BETTER STAY BOUGHT, without regard to the destruction of our beloved country, one interest group at a time, and with republicans praying for Obama to fail and doing everything in their power, these meager, sub-standard, ugly-spirited, uncaring, mindless cowardly traitors to America and Americans.

I. Am. One. Of. The. Lucky. Ones. Somehow. That. Gives. Me. No. Comfort.

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How I used to get almost any information I ever needed…

posted by Bill Arnett @ 4:22 PM Permalink

…courtesy of AT&T, before the invention of cell phones and phone companies became so fragmented. In today's age of cell phones and 56 different phone companies providing service this may no longer be valid, but I think with a little time I could devise a work-around, Remember, I was, after all a consummate, professional liar and I loved a good challenge.

Once again, the skip himself might be running and hiding hard,but that calls for a complete break off of talking to anyone they had ever known, forever, something difficult to do. Even if the skip had that kind of self-discipline, if he took his girlfriend/wife with him, they couldn't just stop talking to mom forever, so all I had to do was find out whom was communicating with whom and start getting phone bills, which often times made it as easy as tracking a bear through the snow (or was that bare tracking through the snow? I forget which).

My partner used to push for all the information on a phone bill at the same time, which was great until AT&T became a little more security conscious, so I found it easier to break the process uo into steps that just naturally led the operators to believe me.

As soon as I decided which number or numbers to pull, looking for the girlfriend Jenny Smith, I would call the long distance on the old AT&T number 800-222-0300:

Operator (Op hereafter): AT&T, may I help you?
Me; Why yes, thank you. My name is Jon Carr and I'm on vacation visiting with my daughter and her husband. When he got out of the Army he traveled quite a bit while my daughter, Jenny, stayed with us. He would call her collect quite frequently and now that he's working, and we are down here helping them settle in, they have very generously offered to reimburse us for all those collect calls, and wouldn't you know, the last thing I thought to bring on vacation is a copy of my phone bill?
OP: (Usually chuckling as I could be a charming S.O.B. when on the hunt): Well, Mr Carr I'm not sure there's much I can do for you. I can't release any phone numbers off your bill over the phone, I'd have to mail them to you at your home address. What is your phone number?
Me: 916-333-4444, but I don't really need the numbers. If you'd be kind enough to give me just the dates and amounts of the long distance calls we can figure it out from there.
OP: Well, I guess I can do that, When would the calls have started?
Me: Her husband got out of the Army about three months ago:
OP: Okay sir, the first collect call was from Seattle on March 15th for $3.57, here's another one from Portland on March 19th for $7.85, etc., etc., etc. 'til she hit the end of the bill and would ask, Is there anything else I can do to help you?
Me: No, thank you, ma'am, you've been very helpful.

Then I'd hang up and immediately redial AT&T, without exception getting a different operator, and repeat the whole story until I got down to the numbers and amounts.
Me: So when these kids offered to reimburse me I just wrote down the long distance and collect call dates and amounts thinking I could sort out which call was which, but it happens that I travel a lot in my business and that some of these calls might be mine. Do you see the call from Settle on March 15th for $3.57?
OP; (Convinced I must be telling the truth; who else would have such detailed information from a private number?) Yes, I see that.
Me: May I please have the number to which that call was made to (or from which it was received)
Op: That was 303-455-6677.
Me: Next would be the call from Seattle on the 19th for $7.87?
OP: Yes, that was from 221-666-6464.
Me: (I would walk her through all the long distance and especially collect calls one-by-one, each time easier than the last 'cause as I said, who could possibly have such knowledge except the phone number bill payer? Finally, after all numbers had been gotten) Well, I can't thank you enough ma'am, you've been so helpful.
Op you're quite welcome sir, Anything else I can do for you?
Me: No, ma'am, you have a pleasant day.

I'd go through the numbers, being able to identify many of them through a "Criss-Cross Directory" which lists phone numbers first, then, if known the name and address to whom the number as listed. Did you know that R.L. Polk used to send out information cards to every address in a city and ask for the number's owner to please fill out the info cards so that they would have the privilege of being listed in their city's R.L. Polk Directory? An amazing number of people responded, I guess feeling priviled to be part of the town/city' historical record. A fountain of information showing not only the name at that number, but their trade, family members, etc.?

Any number for which I could not receive direct info (Pardon me, may I speak to Susan Dubois? Them: I'm sorry this is the Johnson residence and we don't know that person.) or directory information through any city library with a criss-cross or R.L.Polk directory meant a call back to AT&T with a modified story, as a person always has a right to know the identity of any number on their bill.

Me: Hi, operator, this is Jon Carr, home phone number 916-333-4444 and I have a question about several numbers on my bill.
OP: And which numbers would those be, sir?
Me: See the call from 221-666-6464 call from Seattle on the 19th for $7.87? I need to know to whom that number is listed.
OP: Certainly, sir. Let's see, that was from an unlisted number belonging to a Jenny Smith, at 123 North B St, Seattle, Washington. (Just for drill I would still get the rest of the numbers even though I had located girlfriend).

Then a quick call to the number using any of dozens of scams to insure my skip was living with her and it was time to grab a flight to Seattle, check in with the local P.D., brief the patrol in the neighborhood, and stake it out. Either I'd get lucky enough to see him come home or, after a period of time, run another ruse personally or call to the residence to make sure he was home (usually a job offer or something along those lines); after confirmation a call to the local P.D., they would arrive, I would take the front while the officer covered the side and back, knock on the door, get the skip to the fron door and another one would bite the dust.

Did you really believe you had security on your phone before GWB came into office? I was doing these things and much more when Reagan and then GHWB were in office. My cancers leveled me and put me out of business by doctor's orders that I strictly avoid jails, jail lobbies full of sick children, and contact with druggies who also carried various maladies to which chemo was going to make me far so immune-system weakened that I could easily catch something fatal.

Never trust a person you don't know personally over the phone. They might not be who they say they are. I loved 'em.

I know, for I could be anything or anyone I wanted on the phone. Next episode: How to obtain the name and address of an unlisted number owner even when not listed in a criss-cross or city directory. Two scams that worked EVERY time for me, only one scam that I was ever able to teach anyone else. Stay tuned.

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Monday, December 14, 2009

Tell it like it is, Don't be ashamed to let your conscience be your guide

posted by The Sailor @ 7:43 PM Permalink

I have a love affair with Rep. Alan Grayson (D-BrassOnes), not him personally, (not that there's anything wrong with that), but with his frank speech and principled positions.

He called out the Republicans for their (lack of) Health Care Proposal on the House floor:
"The Republican plan is don't get sick. And if you do get sick, die quickly."
The rethugs were incensed and called on him to apologize- "That is about the most mean-spirited partisan statement that I've ever heard made on this floor, and I, for one, don't appreciate it," Rep. Jimmy Duncan, R-Tennessee.

Grayson did:"I apologize to the dead and their families that we haven't voted sooner to end this holocaust in America"

And now he calls out Darth Vader dick Cheney for his statements on Fux News->
Cheney: I saw [Obama], when he got elected, as a liberal Democrat -- but conventional, in the sense of sort of falling within the parameters of the national Democratic Party. I think he's demonstrated pretty conclusively now during his first year in office that he's more radical than that. That he's farther outside the parameters, if you will, of what we've traditionally had in Democratic presidents in years past.
Grayson's reply was made on Hardball->
Grayson: I don't know, you know, on the internet there's an acronym that's used to apply to situations like this, it's STFU. I don't think I can say that on the air, but I think you know what that means."
Each time, of course, the republicans and their M$M allies clutch their pearls like Margaret Dumont in a bad outtake from a Marx Brothers film. (Fainting couches are optional.)

Somehow repubs don't mind Cheney saying "Go fuck yourself" on the Senate floor, GW Bush calling the US Constitution a "goddamn piece of paper" or their constant cries of people like me being called terrorist supporters because we think torture and violating the Geneva Conventions and the US Constitution is a very bad thing.

Did I mention Grayson was rich? That's not a bad thing:
"I don't need the job for income or satisfaction," said Grayson, sitting on a bench outside the House chamber in between votes. "The truth is, it's really a hardship. I took an enormous pay cut to take the job. Every week, I leave five young children and my wife to come up here.

"I don't owe anything to anyone here. I don't owe anything to lobbyists. I don't owe anything to leadership. The only thing I owe to anybody is the well-being of 800,000 people who depend on me.
Well said sir. It's always a pleasure to see rich people, like FDR and George Soros and even Bill Gates do the right thing. It's especially nice when they have FY money and they choose not to say FY to the people who don't.

And now a special treat:

Cross posted at SteveAudio

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Yet another tale that generically demonstrates what a professional liar can do…

posted by Bill Arnett @ 4:44 PM Permalink

…this story is true, one of the first and one of the best, easiest scams to locate a skip's girlfriend. I mentioned in a post below that while the skip (probably 90% of those I chased were male) himself might be very experienced at hiding, his girlfriend still had to call her momma and, more importantly, still had to feed her babies and provide income.

It was almost axiomatic that if a new girlfriend bailed a guy out, he would break up with her and go back to his old main squeeze Either way welfare alone helped me bust several hundred people through the years, Remember when I say no inside contacts at all? Here's the way it was done by me, most people laughing it off saying, "No one would fall for that!" they were seriously wrong.

Dial number to Sac (or any other welfare dept. in the country) and these events ensue:

She: Sacramento county welfare, this is…Tanya…, may I help you?
Me: Hey, how ya doing? This is Ron Callister from Yolo County welfare and I need to verify past benefits on Sue Smith. I'm the new guy in the office so I get stuck screening apps for benefits.
She: No problem, do you have her social (security number))
Me: I sure do; it's 444-33-5555 and the name should be a Sue or Susan Smith.
She; Well, I don't know why she would be applying over there, she's been collecting benefits here for years.
Me: Well, if you could give me her current address I'll kick this back to the worker so she can question her about this,
She: Sure, that 109 North B Street, Apt D as in David
Me: Do yu show residential phone service?
She: That would be (916) 555-3333. Need anything else?
Me: Nope, I'm just a simple screener and know nothing of the arcane science of actually working with people!
She:(laughing) Well if you need anything else, just call.
Me: I thank you kindly. Bye-Bye.

A quick call to the number given and through too many ruses to list, sometimes just, especially if a kid answered.
Me: Hi, this is Bobby Gardener (usually a name taken off his app), is Ronnie home?
Them: Naw, he doesn't come home before six or seven o'clock.
Me: Al righty then, I'll call back then.
Call terminates.

I would shift to stake-out mode, make connections with the local patrol unit and brief them, and sit back and wait, Picture in hand for Ronnie to come home.

In this case an obviously drunk Ronnie pulls up, staggers up to Apt D. I would take one of my favorite tools, a tire air cap that also had a stem remover on it. went over after calling the local patrol and pulled the valve stem from his right rear tire, then go back to await the patrol.

When they pulled in, anticipating that it was door-kicking time, I told them what I had done and that if they waited in the alley running between he apartments I would hand deliver Ronnie.

Up to the apartment, start pounding on the door, Ronnie, a little P.O., answers the door, "What the f*ck do you want?
Me, in an excited voice, "Hey man, look I'm sorry for botherin' you, but don't you drive the blue Ford down there?"
He: What about it.
Me: 'cause I just seen two guys stab your back tire, I think the right one.
He: Are you f*cking kidding me?
Me: No, man, come look for yourself! And I think I might know one of the dudes that did it!

He came running down the stairs behind me and while I kept him fixated on the tire the two patrol officers walked right up behind him. After some bs about he wasn't the Ronnie Jones they wanted, man!, I slipped his mug shot to one of the cops, he showed his partner, grabbed Ronnie, slammed him against the car, cuffed him up and got ready to go;
Ronnie: Officers, you're not gonna let that a$$hole get away with stabbin' my tire are you?
Me: (deliberately holding the valve stem, I walked over and in ten seconds reinserted the valve stem) No one stabbed your tire, Ronnie. And thank you very much officer. If you don't mind giving me your names and badge numbers I'll send an "attaboy" to your chief. You never know when it'll look good enough for a promotion.

They did so; I did as promised regarding the letter, and another skip down in less than eleven hours, start to finish.

And that's the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Tomorrow, if I am up to it, I'll detail how I used to pull the long distance from virtually any phone number in America, Although It will be based on actual cases I worked, the names, addresses, etc., have been changed to protect the innocent, guilty, accused and everyone else but me.

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Friday, December 11, 2009

As promised, a tale of the amoral and the story of their demise…

posted by Bill Arnett @ 10:15 PM Permalink

…I hated chasing hookers, lazy booking officers would, while snapping her picture, save himself time by asking her for her height, weight, hair and eye color, etc., which meant that you could easily read five different arrest reports and get five different descriptions: Height: 5' 6"-5'!!" Hair: red, brown, blonde, multicolored Weight: 105-145 lbs Eyes: Blue. Grey, Brown, Hazel.…They carried their chosen trade with them around the "circle" from Sac to Portland to Seattle skip over to Washington DC to work the 59th Street Bridge, down to Florida for spring break, Houston to Ft. Worth to Dallas to Phoenix to, sometimes Albuquerque, back into L.A., back to Sac to start all over again. your best chance was to catch them on the stroll in Sac or scam their location from friend or family.

I dialed a girl's mom one morning, as usual having no ida what I was going to say, and when the woman answered the phone she had to be momma 'cause she was at least sixty-seventy years old. This is what transpired:

She: H-Hello?
Me: (out of the blue) Is this Mrs. Smith?
She: Why yes. Who is this?
Me: Ma'am…I just don't know where to start…so I guess I'll just bite the bullet and tell you that I spilt an entire pot of coffee all over my desk…and honestly, I did my best to save all my paperwork, but your daughter's application was filled out with a felt tip pen and the info on it was almost totally obliterated, so it's my fault that your daughter and her three kids won't be getting their check on the first. Hell, I could just barely make out your number.
She: But she need that money for her children. What are we gonna do now?
Me: Well…listen your the grandma to these kids, right?
She: Yes, and they just have to get their money in time!
Me: Look, let's try this, Do you happen to have the names, ages, DOBs, and social security numbers for the kids?
She: I sure do. Give me a minute to get 'em.
…brief passage of time…
She: Are you still there?
M: Oh, yes ma'am, I've got to get this straightened out or my boss will have my ass. So, start reading off the names, DOB, and social security numbers of those babies and I think we can reconstruct his application.
She:…takes about fifteen minutes reading off all the info on the kids…
Me: (I also asked many questions I supposed a welfare worker would ask) Oh, ma'am I just can't thank you enough. I might have lost my job behind this.
She: Oh,my Lord, I'm so happy I could help. So she'll get her check on the first?
Me: We have one last problem, ma'am, does your daughter have residential phone service?
She: No, why?
Me: Because this isn't ready for submission until I get your daughter's signature. Since I caused this mess why don't you just give me her home address and on my lunch hour I'll drive over to her and get her signature so those babies don't have to go without.
She: (By now absolutely convinced I was with the welfare department) Well, she just moved over to 123 Jefferson St, but I'm sure she'd be home.
Me: Don't you worry about it. I'll have this taken care of within an hour now that we have this application reconstructed.
She: God bless you, sir.

It never crossed her mind that she had not asked, nor that never had I offered her my name.

I saddled up my old 750 Honda (I had to change transportation every few months as each vehicle became attached to me.) and called my old friend …Wally… and aked him if he wanted to transport the gal for me since I was on the bike. He of course agreed as I always gave all the credit to the cops who helped me serve warrants, sending an "atta-boy" letter each time, which can make or break a promotion.

Twenty minutes later I knocked on the door at the address given, a child answered the door, "Where's your momma?"

The child pointed toward the living room where son-of-a-gun my skip was sleeping after a hard night's work. I cuffed her up while she slept and when Wally showed up minutes later boy! was she pissed!

Off to jail went she, less than an hour total time from getting file to cuffing, Wally got his letter, I got paid an exorbitant sum of money for the locate, it was a beautiful day, so I spent the day floating on the American River with my Warrior Woman.

We made quite a site carrying a two-man raft, a large cooler, and paddles. We'd dump everything on the beach, I'd ride a short distance to a tree suitable for chaining the bike to, and we'd hit that wonderfully cold water on a 105º day. Life was good.

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It's a rainy day, which always makes me nostalgic, remembering the way things used to be…

posted by Bill Arnett @ 1:40 PM Permalink

…and causing me to marvel at how things turned out, how I turned out, and just when I became paranormally and preternaturally prescient, and learned to not only live with it, but to love it until it began to scare me unto the point of death.

My fellow comrades, the Vidiot and Sailor, have for some time now urged me to write a book, something I hesitate to do as it would more likely wind up in a 50¢ Fiction Clearance Section of a bookstore, if it was possible to find a publisher willing to take a chance on a totally unknown and clearly half psychotic writer. Oh, alright, a totally psychotic writer.

As I have mentioned to Sailor and the Vidiot, my life was greatly affected by music and, considering the era in which I grew up, the seminal music of a bunch of ragtag, mop-headed kids tearing up Hamburg, Germany, then their home country of England, and then crashing into America like a bull in a china shop and taking every country to which they traveled by storm.

The Beatles, of course and quite obviously one of, if not THE greatest bands that ever graced a stage is the group to which I refer. They had a way of uniting people, embracing them, and caressing their minds with the words of John Lennon and Paul McCartney.

So, in light of my previous writings here of those days when I grew almost too open minded, obtaining skills I would not have believed possible and using those skills to remove from society all the wretched criminals I could off the streets of Sacramento particularly and the country in general using talents difficult or impossible to describe.

Have you ever picked up a ringing phone and just said, "Hi, john, what's up?" Leaving John to sputter in amazement at how you could possibly know who was calling (this was 15-20 years before the invention of caller I.D.). The best explanation for this phenomenon I've heard is that the mind, signals moving almost as fast as light, would go down the list of possible callers, work and recreation times of those persons, probabilities of a reason for a person to call, and would virtually instantaneously derive the name of the caller, enabling the, "Hi, John, what's up?" Prescience beyond the normal and accomplished without conscious thought. It was just there, and happened to me more times than any statistical analysis (I believe, although I'm no statistician) would or could consider possible without the subjects and methodology to study this strange inner talent. The mind taking or making quantum leaps of logic without wasting time consulting the conscious mind.

And how, you might ask (or not), do I relate these latent abilities to the music of the Beatles? Consider these words of John Lennon and Paul McCartney from the Sgt. Pepper album:
I’m fixing a hole where the rain get in
And stops my mind from wandering
Where it will go

I’m filling the cracks that ran through the door
And kept my mind from wandering
Where it will go

And it really doesn’t matter if I’m wrong
I’m right
Where I belong I’m right
Where I belong

See the people standing there who disagree and never win
And wonder why they don’t get in my door

I’m painting my room in a colorful way
And when my mind is wandering
There I will go

And it really doesn’t matter if I’m wrong
I’m right
Where I belong I’m right
Where I belong

Silly people run around, they worry me
And never ask me why they don’t get past my door

I’m taking the time for a number of things
That weren’t important yesterday
And I still go

Fixing a hole where the rain gets in
Stops my mind from wandering
Where it will go
I somehow fixed the hole in my head and, without outside distractions, my mind wandered within itself until I became able to look at a bail application and within seconds tell you either where the skip was, or through whom I would locate him with amazing success.

When these abilities advanced to the point where, as I used to jokingly say, "I'm so scary good at locating people I scare myself," until that day I spoke of before that I woke up and realized it was true.

I would work tirelessly M-F, but weekends were for my wife and son, sacrosanct and inviolable. After the Agent Orange cancers practically destroyed me and left me in constant neurological pain with no hope of respite, and despite the two mountain-sized handfuls of medications I need to help lessen the pain just enough to forestall complete, utter destruction of both my mind and body (true chronic pain is a bitch), to turn my thoughts from fixating on self-destruction I listen to these inspiring words, again by John Lennon and Paul McCartney:
It’s getting better all the time

I used to get mad in my school (No, I can’t complain)
The teachers that taught me weren’t cool (No, I can’t complain)
Holding me down, turning me round,
Filling me up with your rules

I’ve got to admit it’s getting better,
A little better all the time (can’t get no worse)
To admit it’s getting better,
It’s getting better since you’ve been mine.

Me used to angry young man
Me hiding me head in the sand
You gave me the word I finally hear
I’m doing the best that I can.
For me the line, "It’s getting better since you’ve been mine." is a direct reference to my Warrior Woman; she keeps me centered, even back in our skip hunting days when I knew I could find anybody, anywhere, at any time I wished and simultaneously becoming terrified with the skill with which I could assume any persona I wanted.

I mentioned, I believe, that I located 98% of my skips from my office (if you were running around from address to address, good luck because luck would be the only thing enabling you to catch a skip), and because of that I could be anyone I or my skip could imagine. In fact I had roughly six or eight distinct identities for which I had constructed entire backgrounds: Ron Callister, Philip and/or Raoul Anderson, Don Caruthers, John Sebastion and many, many more, all personas I could slip into and out of like a pair of gloves. I knew each and all of these characters so well that nothing could shake me out of one of them unwillingly. Is there such a thing as willing schizophrenia? Complete assumption of a fictitious identity at will?

Well, I promised I would write more of my old experiences. Over the course of my next few posts I will reveal how I could get the long distance detail on any home number; the way to obtain the address of unlisted numbers, even if you have no idea of the name attached to the number; how I was able to get information from any welfare department in the nation ( a guy may be hiding well, but his girlfriend had to obtain money and talk to mommy); and I'll detail scams and ploys that I have tried to teach others without success (maybe one of 500 would grasp what I was doing, but still never master the skill); and actual scams I have used to capture skips that will leave you shaking your head in disbelief at the simplicity. Scams so easy that a possible trainee would say, "OH, that can't work!" which meant that it was true, it was never going to work for someone who didn't believe in it and run these scams with absolute confidence. Another prospect shown the door.

All accomplished with scams I helped develop and perfect. No inside contacts anywhere, they get mad, fired, quit, go on vacation, or worst yet, want money. I do not, or did not EVER pay anyone for information. I got all the above information above and much more all by myself. The only agencies I never cracked open like an egg were IRS and Social Security, not because I couldn't, I just never had the need to do so.

So stay tuned, it's gonna get interesting. But that's just my opinion, you are free to form your own.

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Monday, December 07, 2009

Does anyone really know what time it is? Does anyone really care? (Really care?)And so I have to ask myself…

posted by Bill Arnett @ 1:18 PM Permalink

…is there any longer any "there" there? (paraphrasing the big band sound and lyrics of Chigago. H/t to them for the wonderful memories their music inspires.)

I had an interesting exchange this morning, not a conversation, more like the dual monologues of the old schoolyards. I'll reorder this exchange for what I hope will be for the sake of clarity. From an e-mail sent by
"Adam Green," …[content]…William,

Today, we're launching a new TV ad featuring the actual Chairman of the Connecticut for Lieberman Party "explaining" Senator Joe Lieberman's opposition to the public option.

It was already covered this morning by Connecticut's biggest newspaper -- Joe will not be happy about this!

TV ads in Connecticut and DC are expensive -- and we need to raise $40,000 to air this ad. Can you click here to see it -- and chip in $10 to help put it on TV?
[An ad, which when clicked upon, takes you not to an ad, but another, hidden solicitation]
Home Privacy Policy Contact Us Stay in the Loop

Contribute now to NEW AD: All About Joe
Can you chip in to help us run this new TV ad holding Joe Lieberman accountable?
TV ads in Connecticut and DC are expensive -- and we need to raise $40,000 to put this ad on the air. Every donation goes a long way. UPDATE: Within minutes, $12,500 raised -- $27,500 to go!
(You can also donate by mail or by PayPal.)
I would like to contribute:
$25.00 $50.00
$100.00 $250.00
$500.00 $1,000.00
I would like to make this contribution:
Each month, for the
next months.
Trouble with the video? Click Here

Payment Information
We accept Visa, Mastercard, American Express, and Discover.
Stored your information with ActBlue Express?

[He walks! He talks! He rolls on his belly(cosity) like a reptile! Come one, come all! A nickel, a dime, a quarter is all you need to see one of the worlds greatest and most entertaining freaks of nature! Mister Joe Lieberman!…Bill]

First Name Last Name

Credit Card Number Expiration Date

Home Address

City State Zip




Employment Information
Campaign finance law requires us to collect and report your occupation and employer. In some cases, without this information we will be forced to refund your contribution. Please do not leave blank or enter "N/A". [Ve must haf a complete dossier on you! BWAHAHAHAHA!)…Bill]
Occupation Employer

If not employed, please enter "not employed". Complete even if self-employed. If not employed, please enter "none".
If self-employed, please enter "self".
Contribution Eligibility
I confirm that the following statements are true and accurate.
I am a United States citizen or a permanent resident alien. [Or zat you are ze real aliens mit der anal probes.…Bill]
This contribution is made from my own funds, and funds are not being provided to me by another person or entity for the purpose of making this contribution. [ah ha! proof that you haf verk so ve can drain you dry!…Bill]
I am making this contribution with my own personal credit card and not with a corporate or business credit card or a card issued to another person. [Proof positive of credit verthiness! Ach, so gut!…Bill]
I am not a federal contractor. [So you cannot be ze millionaire…so sad.…Bill]
I am at least eighteen years old. [Old enough to be forced to serve the Emperor if ze need arouses arises, arises!…Bill]
Support our Fundraising Partner [Kindly bend over and grab your ankles.…Bill]
This contribution page is provided by our partner ActBlue, a Democratic group that helps candidates and organizations fundraise online. ActBlue is a nonprofit Political Action Committee, not a business. [Mein gott! All zose restrictions on a real business!…Bill]
If you find this a helpful service, please kick in a little bit extra to support their efforts — think of it like a tip in a restaurant or a taxi. [or for a particularly good hooker like Senator Vitter used to patronize;…Bill]
No tip 5% tip 10% tip Other: $

Contributions are not tax-deductible for federal income tax purposes. [Unless you liken ze broken legs!…Bill]

Federal law requires us to use our best efforts to collect and report the name, mailing address, occupation and employer for individuals whose contributions exceed $200 in a calendar year. [Ze dossier, dontchaknow?…Bill]

Paid for by ActBlue ( and authorized by the Progressive Change Campaign Committee PAC ( and not authorized by any candidate or candidate's committee. Contributions to the PCCC are not deductible as charitable contributions for federal income tax purposes.

Thanks for being a bold progressive. [Or buying into ze progressively bolder horse excrement!…Bill]

--Adam Green, Stephanie Taylor, Aaron, Natasha Patel, Andrew Perez, and the PCCC team.
Being a bit more than disgusted and truly sick at heart I responded thusly:
I'm sorry, but with all due respect, how do you expect families working two or more jobs, hanging onto their homes with an evermore shredding thread, people trying to decide whether to take a half-dose of much needed medication or open a fresh can of dog food for dinner, people whose unemployment is running out without a whiff of any job possibilities, the middle-class scrubs whom have watched their lifestyles disintegrate, how and why would you ask this crapped upon group of people with their children dying in useless, illegal wars of aggression to skip another pill, another meal, not go to see a doctor as they watch their and their children's health deteriorate until they are at death's door; why wouldn't you park your Mercedes, enter your expansive headquarters, enjoying the health care that should be every American's birthright, oh, why would you millionaires and smug well-to-do jerks (I had another word in mind) once again ask those far, far less fortunate than yourselves to pay for your self-aggrandising, glory-seeking effort to unseat someone with whom you disagree instead of being in the halls of congress and the senate fighting tooth to help all Americans instead of trying to hurt ONE no-account, self-centered jerk whose days left are numbered, whether through the constituents of his state or his poor health (for which he gladly accepts feeding at the public trough which he denies to others); why would you ask us, the evermore poor and irrelevant citizens government is supposed to serve, ask us for even more money and to sacrifice even more and send you money to get you to do the job you should be doing, alone if necessary, representing all CITIZENS instead to going after individual jerkoffs one-at-a-atime?

One of you purported heroes should sell your Mercedes or BMW or your palatial homes to pursue your selfish aims. Bill Arnett

And remove me from your mailing list of those you seek to fool all the time or that you know can fool some of the time.
To which I received the following:
I totally understand. Some people can give, others can't -- you staying in the loop with our activism is what's most important.

We do have a (free) petition accompanying this ad if you'd like to sign.
These are verbatim ads/responses between Adam whoever and me this morning, excepting, of course, my editorial comments enclosed within [brackets]. Adam is probably a good guy and may or may not believe in his cause, but to ask for the assistance of people far less well off than yourself seems…unseemly.

These guys just don't get it. Time and the natural order of attrition and/or his very own constituents will oversee the elimination of cocksure, bullsh*t, contrarian-just-to-be-contrarian LIEberman and to keep even minor focus upon him from time-to-time will gives the self-serving, don't-give-a-damn what's good for the people give him that step up that makes him and his fancied superior knowledge of what is right regardless of how many starve or die because he enjoys being a member of the banal cabal tearing America apart bit-by-bit because, after all, he will be dead by the time the full consequences of his rooster-like posturing come to fruition. And that goes for all those old, rich, white men bigots, racists and all-round arseholes of the GOP. which, fortunately grows more and more irrelevant daily, like the tic-tac-toe playing chickens they used to have at every gas station when I was growing up down south where sure, the GOP-like chicken would almost always will win and get his small bit of grain in return. The only difference between the human version of these brainless, but winning, birds and the human GOP birds themselves is that the GOP human version learned to rape, pillage, and gorge themselves endlessly without realizing that any parasite that continually and consistantly kills its host inevitably perishes as the hosts die off from the greedy parasitic overfeeding.

But these are just my opinions. I could be wrong.

NOTE: I made some grammatical and editorial changes of a minor nature. It drives me insane when wealthy, well-to-do people seek to ride piggy-back upon the poor, the sick, the uneducated, and the truly struggling people in order to pursue a personal vendetta from their comfy offices sitting in office chairs which the sale of just one would pay some people's rent for a month. Bill


Friday, December 04, 2009

Size DOES matter

posted by The Vidiot @ 8:35 AM Permalink

The License Plate That Says It All: 2BG2FAIL | Andrew Ross Sorkin.

So, along with Climategate and the escalation in Afghanistan, there's still the economy to talk about.

Teen Vidiot, during one of those lucid moments when he wants to talk about something OTHER than South Park or Family Guy, can't seem to wrap his head around "what so bad about Walmart?" For a kid who used to live within a mile of one of those Walmart Superstores and who used to go there on a daily basis for whatever it was they needed to buy, (including cold-cuts, Who knew?) it's been pretty difficult to get him to understand the importance of a vibrant local economy. He keeps asking "Why are there no Walmarts in New York?" Because New Yorkers won't stand for it. "What's wrong with Walmart? Everything's cheap there." Yes, and that comes at a steep price.

Maybe, by the time he graduates high school -- five loooooooong years from now -- he'll at least understand why Walmart is bad. He doesn't have to agree with us. We just want him to understand it. Hopefully he'll agree with it.

But I look around me, in my neighborhood, in New York City, it's all turning into a strip mall with big box stores. Near me, small businesses that catered to a certain population were replaced by other small businesses catering to a different clientele. That new clientele had money. Once the money came, then the new small businesses couldn't keep up with the real estate prices and they were replaced by big box stores. I've seen it happen all over the city. Even at Union Square which years ago was pretty cool and is now getting, well, a TGIF and Tim Hortons. If it can happen here of all places...


If left unabated, I can see where all this going.
There are plenty more things that could be on this path, along with a privatized police force, mandatory vaccinations for all, usury like we've never seen usury before, etc. and so on.

I don't want to be all doom and gloom but unless people start to resist this stuff, unless we just say no to it, then it's going to happen because these corporations will continue to grow, continue to rake in the wealth, and continue to have political power that far outweighs what we, as individuals, will ever have.

Arguing over Climategate or any other fiasco is pretty pointless. Whether they lie to us or don't lie to us is irrelevant. They manufacture the reality. They control what we think, what we hear, what we see, what we eat, they control everything. And many of them don't do it intentionally. They just work within the system. They just do what they do because, well, that's what they do. It's hard to resist it all, but resist it we must.

Because not resisting it will be the death of human culture, and I'm not saying that to just be bombastic. It really will be the death of human culture.

No original thought can occur in an bland environment. If we're all having the same experiences, eating the same food, wearing the same clothes, watching the same shows and movies, listening to the same music, if we're all thinking and doing the same things, where will our creativity come from? Differences are needed to spark controversy, and I'm not talking about the difference between Ruby Tuesday's and TGI Fridays (is there a difference between those two?) If all of human culture becomes this amalgam of big box, corporate culture, the end of history will have occurred... and more than likely, it will happen with a whimper.

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While we're blabbering on about Climategate

posted by The Vidiot @ 7:41 AM Permalink

More young men are being put in harm's way in Afghanistan so that more people can be killed.

"We must escalate the war to end the war."

Hmmmmm, where I have heard that before...

Oh wait, now I remember:
From where Winston stood it was just possible to read, picked out on its white face in elegant lettering, the three slogans of the Party:

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Thursday, December 03, 2009

Just a thought on a comment made by the Vidiot…

posted by Bill Arnett @ 1:17 PM Permalink

…in a post below regarding Climategate by Mike Rivero.

I have to admit I have no idea who this person is, whether he be fool, wise man, or just another tool driven by his own moral sense of what's right or wrong or even carrying water for the government. Sailor seems to hold Mr. Rivero in low regard indeed while the Vidiot seems inclined to consider his (Rivero's) point of view as worthy of being heard and considered regardless of the possibly dubious source.

Sailor: "Oh fer gawd's sake, you really want to go with Mike Rivero!? Sheesh, he's Glen Beck w/o the audience. He's a loon! Next time try quoting climatologists instead of conspiracy aficionados."

To which the Vidiot replied: "Like another POV is going to hurt anybody? …Here' MY POV: Whatever the government tells you is the truth, is a lie. Period. End of discussion.

Very few people have been trained to be professional liars; most lie reflexively as a protection mechanism or to coverup the truth or, properly trained, to almost instantaneously brainwash those with whom they communicate for gain, fair or foul. Fewer still are born with an innate aptitude to lie faster than the speed of thought, without thinking about it.

I was a very well trained, active daily, professional liar for fifteen years when I bounty hunted for a living, although for any good lie to work there must be some truth incorporated within, and occasionally that truth, founded on a lie, become the fact of the matter and yielded successes unable to be attained by the lie only. I was a very successful bounty hunter.

During those years I personally was responsible for returning hundreds of felons and countless misdemeanants to court or jail, including the Southside rapist in Sacramento, child molesters beyond count, and Robert Hal Brame, whom I busted in Ft. Lauderdale. That bust, which I ran from my office in Sacramento, wound up with seven F.L.P.D. detectives finally closing in for the bust after I finally located a jilted girlfriend and used her to positively I.D. Brame's voice. Twenty-three hours from start to bust and I never left my office. He was again busted here in California years later as "The Gentleman Bandit" who robbed banks in three piece suits and so courteously no one ever paid attention to him 'til he was gone.

The greatest advantage of being a professional liar was that ability mentioned above to brainwash people whom you had never met, didn't know, nor had ever talked to before. If I could get a message to the skip to call me, nine out of ten times they would call to rub my face in their escape if for no other reason. However, once on the phone, the fish was in the net.

If I could keep that skip on the line for one hour, he or she would actually tell me where they were. If I could keep them on the line for another hour beyond the first, they WOULD come back voluntarily. I was a long distance brainwasher, all accomplished through ruse, trickery, sometimes deceit, mostly truth, all mixed into a witches' brew that seemed at times to have endowed me with incredible powers to weave spells and make water run contrary to gravity.

There were plenty of road trips my Warrior Woman and I took (I swear to the universe, my wife can pick a bail skip out of a crowd of his brothers at a family reunion from a hundred yards away without ever erring, not once. So when my partner said he would no longer pay her expenses on the road I said O.K., find another team, as she was crucial to mine. Took him less than five minutes to come back in and guarantee all our road expenses, period, as he had seen her in action, and we did have the very best road record of any bounty hunters in Sacramento; gone five days, five in jail; gone ten days, ten or more in jail; we never failed to nail at least one skip a day on the road.) As I located skips by phone (which was probably 98% of the time; my regular phone bill usually exceeded ten to twelve thousand dollars a month, my partners equal or greater.) I would put a pin in this hugh beautiful Thomas Bros. map of the U.S. that came just shy of covering one entire wall of my office indicating in which city the skips were. Get enough pins, take a piece of yarn and run it from pin-to-pin to layout the most efficient route, hopefully a circle or some semblance thereof to minimize driving, call my Warrior Woman, give her about 1/2 hour notice and hit the road. I have busted skips in virtually every state of America.

I used to joke around and tell people that I was so sneaky I scared myself until I woke up one morning and realized that it was true. Although as a point of pride I never did, and still don't, lie to a friend; honesty almost to the point of brutality (Are you SURE you want me to answer that question?) was the rule, though I did learn to ask that preceding parenthetical question.

But is was true. My ability to lie so facilely, without compunction, so convincingly that I could not NOT be believed, scared me spitless. Even though I lied professionally to aid society in ridding itself of all those felons and miscreants, the six or eight murderers a year we would ask the FBI to put into the Sacramento Bee Secret Witness program that, when located by us and jailed by the Feds, (some of these people scared the hell out of me, so strictly anonymity was the rule) netted us $60k-$80k or more in addition to the lucrative lying of a professional bounty hunter. Even though I knew without question that my lies benefitted society as a whole, working in total anonymity, a wraith blowing through cities leaving behind one incarcerated drag on society after another and then vanishing without leaving a trail, and I finally woke up scared to death at what I had become: a liar so accomplished that I could rip apart the earth, metaphorically speaking, and locate anyone, any skip, and have them in jail in under 72-hours.

And that was after cheap bail agents tried all their local P.D.s, Sheriff Departments, hotshot local bounty hunters and all had failed, and then that cheap S.O.B. bail agent would come crawling on hands and knees to my partner and I and finally agree to our inflexible rate of charge of 50% of the penal amount of the bond plus all expenses. A $100,000 abscond meant my partner and I picked up $50k plus in under 72-hours flat. With a 98% success rate.

I was a professional liar who became terrified with an ability so natural it was like breathing or the other motor responses of a living organism, having become so eerily skilled as to be able to make anyone think or believe anything I so desired.

I guess this is my meandering, wandering way of emphatically agreeing with the Vidiot and speaking from personal experience, although my talent came all too naturally and ultimately morphed into something too frightening to handle:

Here' MY POV: Whatever the government tells you is the truth, is a lie. Period. End of discussion.

I whole-heartedly agree with this caveat: This country, and the world, is filled with people for whom lying is as natural as breathing, and far too many of us find our way into politics, the media, or other outlets where lying provides gains, lawful or not.

I know. To paraphrase A.A., "Hi, my name is Bill, and I'm a scary good liar so good that I scare myself."

NOTE: I would reluctantly, but willingly, give Sailor or the Vidiot all the proof they need to confirm every word I have written here. I am retired from being a professional liar and long distance brainwasher.

POSTSCRIPT; A day after getting Brame busted, Leo Callahan, Chief of police F.L.P.D. called me on my main "blind line." (His name could have been Leo Koloion, one was Chief Detective the other chief of police and I often get the names confused. For these purposes I'll leave it as it is.)

Me: Hello.
He: This this leo Callahan, Chief of Police here in Fort Lauderdale and I want to know who the hell you are, what agency you work for, how you put this three-ring circle puzzle together, and got seven of my detectives involved in the biggest bust of their careers. The Brame guy had over $600,000 in warrants out for him here and in North Carolina and I just gotta know who the f__k you are.
Me; I'm Bill Arnett, I'm a bounty hunter in Sacramento, CA and I just was doing a job - but give me the names of all the detectives involved so I can send 'em all an "atta-boy" letter for their jackets.
He: Bullsh*t! There's no goddamn way a bounty hunter put this all together in under 24 hours. Now if you're with the Feds or an agency you can't reveal, I understand, but a bounty hunter" Bullsh*t!
Me: Chief, do us both a favor and ask your secretary to go through information and call Allied Bail Bonds in Sacramento and ask for me - that'll settle it in your mind.

Two minutes later the phone outside my back (concealed) office rang and whoever answered hollered out for me that some dude's secretary was calling for me.

Me: Chief, I gotta go take your call on the main line, talk to ya further there. (Hung up, went out front, grabbed phone)Hey, Chief, this is Bill Arnett.
He: Well I'll be damned. I'd still like all the numbers where I can reach you. My detectives said you engineered this entire bust from start to finish. I want you to know personally that I tried, I really tried, to give you all the credit due, but our local press wouldn't have any of it. They wanted to blow the horn for the local P.D. and wouldn't give anyone, especially an unknown like you, any of the credit. Anyway, I thank you and if you write those letters for the detectives I'll follow it up with one of my own.
me: Cool. chief, but I gotta go.
He: Thank you again.

I wrote those letters, the chief added one of his own to each as promised, and sent me full color letterhead copies with a side letter commending me. It was a gas, gas, gas.

And, oddly, that's the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I scare myself too much to lie anymore.

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