Method Research, Part Three: Journalist, Expose Thyself.




Both those prints hang on my walls in my home. Catwoman is a sentimental favourite heroine of mine. She has nine lives, is a survivor, but does it all so very glamourously.

The second one reminds me of a character I created years ago named Magnus Lyme, aka, The World’s Most Dangerous Woman.

When she wears her red dress, watch out.

When people come to my house, they usually say that you can tell an artist lives here.

It’s true. You can tell a lot about me from my house. I am not a secretive person. I am an open book.

My fiction also represents me in different ways.

When I did Chaser the first time, I was open. There were things that pissed me off no end. I put my cards on the table, and that was the reason I used playing cards as an allegory for the website.

Particularly the Queen of Hearts. Particularly the rigged game of Find the Lady.

I talked about magic tricks. There was a reason.

There were many reasons for it. If you are going to chronicle reality, you have to face it first.

And the best way to face the failings of a profession is by working in it.

When you have things on the line and your future invested in it, you have a completely different mindset.

Because when you are walking among those you are studying, it is a completely different experience than merely looking on the outside.

There is an interesting story about a doctor who had cancer:

As A Doctor, I Thought I Knew Cancer Inside And Out. Then I Found Out I Had It.

And he discovered he didn’t know as much as he thought.

He went into a version of Method Version, a post-hoc version, but he was trained to know it as a scientist.

I did the same thing with journalism (and if any moron gets offended by me comparing myself to him, fuck you. I had cancer while looking after a mother who had it at the same time. Read the memo, asshole).

When you compare your understanding before the event and after, you cannot believe how clueless and naive you were. You cannot compare.

That’s why journalism turned into a garbage pile. There is no method to the research.

And we now have a sterilized generation who think they are cunning by not doing anything and living in a bubble: you cannot be an armchair opinionist. You have to get dirty, beat up, make mistakes, and live through it — but when you go in with a plan of study, you are not wasting the ass-kicking you get: you go back and learn. Eventually, you kick-ass yourself as you gain mastery.

You see how the problems really operate. You don’t take educated guesses because it is on your own skin that you feel it as you immerse yourself in it.

Journalism has no transparency.


For example, what PR firm or lobbyist is behind this cover? What generous benefactor hijacked or co-opted coverage? What friends in high places are waging war through the media? Positive and negative coverage has those who benefit, and yet we keep pretending the work is objective or accurate.

I worked as a journalist. I heard the cheerleading and the demonizations in equal measure. I have heard reporters who bragged about their own drug use condemn newsmakers for having substance abuse issues in their reports.

Psychoanalysts have to undergo psychotherapy before practicing their trade. Journalists should be made to do the same as well as their overlords. You would not get the cocky propaganda being spewed now.

I saw how twisted the logic became in the profession. I saw the justifications and sophistry used to make excuses for rot.

That is the reason I have always been an open book. Unless you have torn yourself to shreds, you have no business tearing other people to shreds. Journalists are assholes, plain and simple, and they should be torn into a million little pieces.

And that’s what I have done as a Method Researcher.

I tore that profession to shreds, examining every atom. I examined it as I broke through façades to see how that industry was dysfunctional.

And bigoted, misogynistic, and ignorant.

It is hard to imagine that in 2019, people don’t make demands.

And call for a replacement.

I have the blueprints because I know how that garbage was left to fester.

Because I am a Method Researcher…

Method Research, Preface.












Each one of those pictures represents a milestone in my life. The first is my first profile on me when I was operating Chaser. The second was my undergrad photo where I was on the cusp of creating something called Method Research. The third was at the height of said Method Research. The fourth was taken on my first day in j-school when I was in my first year of Method Research. The fifth was taken when I won the Arch Award at McMaster University where it all began and it came full circle less than a year before my two books of my results of Method Research would be published by Disinfo.

Those were taken years ago, and I thought my work was done.

But sometimes there is a new picture, and a new revelation that brings old ideas into a new light…


The Labellers: Creating false narratives with ridicule and fear-mongering.




I have had an interesting couple of days where I have had different threads and unexpected comments and messages that are worth mentioning, so here it goes.

I get messages from people, and someone made an interesting indirect comment reminding me how insular and incestuous Canadian journalism happens to be. It’s true, and I remember when I was a Canadian correspondent for Presstime magazine in the late 1990s’/early aughts, and I was at a industry function where someone who was the head of a Canadian journalism organization made the comment that he was surprised that I got to write for NAA’s publication, when you would “expect” some Canadian editor or publisher to hold that lofty title.

Why would they? There is absolutely nothing inherent about the position that would have required that because other people who wrote articles for Presstime were journalists the same way journalists write for every other publication.

But that’s not what he meant. I wasn’t there because of nepotism or cronyism. I wasn’t part of an incestuous network of the usual gang of idiots; so how the hell did I get a job that, in Canada, would have absolutely been reserved for someone who was part of that stagnate clique?

Answer: because I have talent and the ingenuity to put my resume in to a US publication where that degree of cronyism didn’t exist; thereby bypassing the xenophobic structure of the journalism back in my own country.

Most of my credentials rest with US publications, and when it comes to my books, my publishers have either been from the US or the UK. Aside from the fact that Canadian publications and publishers don’t pay anywhere near what the other two nations pay their writers, the truth is that if you are going to hedge your bets and put in the most effort with the best pay-off, do it with publications with a bigger audience, better pay, and more merit-based filters. It’s not as if I have never written for Canadian outfits, but the traditional “harder markets” were just easier to deal with in my case.

There are rigs in place because the structure of thought dictates that these rigs are normal.

And that happens to be the Canadian way.

Just look at Canadian politics.

Rachel Notley is the premier of Alberta. Her was was Grant Notley.

Doug Ford is the premier of Ontario. His father Doug Ford Senior was an Ontario MPP. Doug Junior ran against Caroline Mulroney whose father was a prime minister and Christine Elliott, whose husband was a prominent federal cabinet minister.

Even our prime minister’s daddy was a prime minister.

I liken it to people looking for established names as if they were luxury brand items, but people are not shoes or cars. The one after it is not a replica of the one before it.

People in Canada have a Zero Risk mindset, and the heuristics are based upon this kind of rule of thumb-thinking, always looking for a “sure thing.”


But I would in no way say Canada is proof that there is a conspiracy afoot. We have nepotism and cronyism not because of some vast and diabolical conspiracy, but because citizens make no demands, and look for “sure things”, consistently confusing provenance and quality goods with human behaviour.

I remember when the Jive Turkey was running for prime minister, and people who decided to vote for him had a narrative set. When I asked about his profound lack of experience, the answer I always got was since he “grew up” with a politician father, he, by some miracle of intellectual osmosis would have to be up to code.

I would nod and ask would they feel comfortable if their surgeon or criminal lawyer assigned to them didn’t bother with a degree, license, or experience, but had a mom or dad who were surgeons and lawyers. Usually, an alarmed, “No!” told me everything I needed to know about their thinking. In their drive for Zero Risk, they will take a 100% gamble, yet don’t see it unless you place their own logic in a proper context.

Throw in Appeal to Authority and the Confirmation Bias, and what you have is the recipe for cronyism to flourish.

There is no conspiracy. Cronies stick together, yes, but if outsiders put their foot down and give resistance, then the clique no longer exists. Fresh blood comes in, circulating and creating a flexible structure, and people who thrive through rigs and stagnation can’t build walls and fences, keeping out people who have new ideas, better talent, and different approaches. If you want true diversity, then you have to stop taking gambles, and learn how to take risks.

But for those who thrive in rigs and cronyism, they are terrified at the prospect, so they do what all lesser talents do: try to villainize outsiders and label them in order to discredit them from the get-go.


Conspiracies happen and frequently, and people often go to jail because of them. These conspiracies aren’t from a Bond movie, however. Conspiracy to commit murder is common enough. Also common is conspiracy to commit fraud, especially when it comes to fleecing the elderly. Less common is conspiracy to commit forgery. Price fixing is also an example of a conspiracy, and in Canada, we saw bread being at the centre of such an accusation. We have anti-trust laws for a reason.

But “conspiracy” is also a trigger word and a propagandistic one. When someone wants to dismiss someone’s accusations of collusion, or even disagreement, suddenly, the person is painted as a loon and a “conspiracy theorist.”

I just across such a case on Wikipedia where someone with multiple Ivy League degrees was labelled a “conspiracy theorist” without a shred of proof. The person isn’t making wild accusations about Illuminati groups —they are disagreeing with a mainstream patriarchal narrative that I happen to know is wrong. That isn’t a “conspiracy theorist.”

I have written to Wikipedia to ask about it, and got a long, but not an entirely satisfactory reply, and it is something that I am pursuing, and will write more about it later. There have been many radio personalities and authors who exploit the persona of a conspiracy theorist, but the term itself is a real form of propaganda.

Whenever a certain Establishment group want to deflect attention away from their inbred incompetency, they slap the label of “conspiracy theorist”, and then hope the little Middle Class people will brainlessly parrot the label.

Most times, the Labellers banks on mass laziness and complacency to keep a status quo — usually a label that creates both a false role and a false narrative that constricts thinking, stigmatizes and belittles the target with both ridicule and fear.

This is a monster out to make trouble! They are ignorant, and insane! Don’t believe them!

The Catholic church successfully played that gambit on children for decades. You had little boys and girls who were repeated molested and raped by the clergy, and instead of being believed by their own parents, police, and courts, they were labelled as liars and troublemakers.

And as we know now, those young children weren’t conspiracy theorists. They were victims.

Labellers are a very wicked form of propagandist: they try to cut criticism off at the pass, spinning a narrative that questioning them is an act of insanity, bitterness, and evil.

Labellers take advantage of the accuser’s emotionality, which is a normal and healthy reaction to being consistently constricted or even harmed. The problem with their argument is that emotionality isn’t irrationality — but the lack of emotions is a red flag that the person may have an Anti-Social Personality Disorder.

Or at least is overplaying their hand with a mask.

That’s why we always need facts.

Labellers try to hide facts at all costs. They will use other phrases other than “conspiracy theorist.” There is always “disgruntled employee”. Well, yes, employees often become disgruntled if you fuck them over. It is akin to calling a rape victim a “hysterical female” after she’s been assaulted and using that distressed state as “proof” that she isn’t a reliable source.

And yes, “hysterical female” is also pet insult of Labellers. Women, who are often discriminated against are rightfully upset that they are being screwed and denied — the agitated state is often evidence of the claim’s veracity.

Whenever we are presented with neatly prepackaged labels, the point isn’t to accept them, but to question them. We don’t accept or dismiss, but then start asking questions. Often, just challenging the label as we ask for verifiable evidence for its usage is enough to prove the label is nothing more than a propagandistic ruse used to hide anything from incompetence to illegal rigs.

Labellers bank on people’s fear and aversion to risk to dismiss inconvenient information that may negatively impact their home sales or promotions. It works until there is one too many “conspiracy theorist”, and then a scandal erupts. Or one too many “hysterical females” come forward and we have #MeToo.

Then all hell breaks loose with those some Zero Risk people howling, how could it happen?

Easy. It wasn’t conspiracy, but complacency. We avoid challenges, confrontations, and debates. We try to stifle diverse points of views and new and untested commodities or ideas. When we fear change or challenge, we allow stagnate and inbred methods to infest society, creating the perfect environment for bad and corrupt practices.

The solution is to keep asking questions as we demand real and concrete answers.

It is the reason why journalism failed: they stopped asking hard questions. They stopped answering hard questions of themselves. The end result is that we are living in a factual void right now.

It won’t last. We have had spells where propaganda dominated because those who were supposed to ask questions became Labellers. As problems mount, they infest and then destroy those comfy “space spaces” and the monsters that we hid under the bed and swept under the rug come to life to terrorize us.

It's never a foregone conclusion. We can’t blame “conspiracies” for our own failings and fears. That’s on us — not on some Them or make believe Bond baddie.

In other words, we are the heroes, victims, or villains of our own story — it all depends on how much risk we take — and how much we gamble…


Toronto Star's patronization campaign: We're not wrong. You're just stupid. Journalistic negging as a propaganda strategy.

One of the worst newspapers in terms of spreading meta-propaganda is the Toronto Star.

They are absolutely relentless, like bible thumpers.

While many journalist vehicles settle for a war strategy, the Star uses fanatical religious strategy, with dash of pick-up artistry.

I worked as a journalist. I wrote about journalism. I wrote about the Toronto Star. I have recounted before how their one-time managing editor Jim Travers lied to my editors at Presstime, accusing me of making up quotes, forgetting that I tape recorded the entire interview with his express permission. They got my tape, took my side, and told him they confirmed that what I quoted was what he said and in context. I did nothing wrong, he told them he would call to apologize to me — and never did.

But the Star is very image-conscious. They have cultivated a fortress that hides the true rot inside. Sometimes the rot comes out, but they preach so loudly that they hope to drown things out.

People like me do not fall for it.

Toronto Star tries to use every cosmetic tool under the sun to hide the fact they are not what they preach to be, and try to cut off criticism off at the pass, but their arrogance keeps getting in the way.

Let’s take a look this propagandistic column:

What readers should know about journalism

So, right off the bat, they have, like other cults and religions, created a pecking order. You don’t “know” journalism, and now the preacher will sing the gospel to you:

Study after study on trust in journalism points to an “understanding gap” between journalists and their readers.

They are manipulating readers from the first sentence: we have nebulous and un-empirical “studies” to show that readers are just too stupid to understand journalism.

This is more than just a pecking order: this is a brazen act of negging.

Pick-up artists use it to aim for a woman who is out of their league, and then knock them down a few pegs by making her question herself.

No genuine information provider would produce something so manipulative — the headline and first sentence alone betrays something far more malicious than what is presented.

This is no different than cult literature.

People understand journalism. It is not a complicated product.

People have no use for a gate-keeper anymore. They left because they found sound better.

But the Star hopes people turn back and come back.

The reason we have cultish publications such as the Star is that the structure of journalism actively fosters such Us Versus Them thinking. They are isolated in their little compounds called newsrooms. They have pecking orders. It is a very abusive and stagnate environment.

I understand journalism. I worked in it, wrote about it, studied it, and wrote books about it for two different publishers in two different countries on two different continents.

The cult of the Star is rapidly eroding, and not even a government bailout will change their fortunes, not in 2019, and not ever.

They will keep trying to position themselves as being intellectually and morally superior to their pigeons — but it is an old ruse, and one that no longer is working for them…

CNN's propaganda strategy: Gaslighting as an abusive ex-spouse. A case study of Reliable Sources.



Dangerous Woman was a song and album that came out in 2016.

My venture A Dangerous Woman Story Studio came out in 2013.

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So when people make the assumption that I called this A Dangerous Woman based on the song, I say, “NIce try, you dumbass motherfucker. I predate it by three years.”

I am not impressed with people assuming that I am the follower, just as I am not impressed when people talk about there not being a feminist Intercept when I had it years before the actual Intercept.

So Grande is not only unoriginal, the “dangerous woman” label nowhere near fits the goods.

There was a terrorist attack during her concert in Manchester, she didn’t explode herself or show anything other than timidity.

A dangerous woman would have not just produced a “fuck you” album, she would have done a lot more things to upset the Establishment.

She gets disrespected at Aretha Frankin’s funeral and just took it. She should have whacked him one, and reminded him, “R-E-S-P-E-C-T” or he’d find out what happens when you fuck around with a dangerous woman.

And as an aside, when my time comes, and someone does something disrespectful to you at my Viking funeral, please kick them in the balls as hard as you can, and call them “motherfucker” from the top of your lungs, even if we were besties and my death wounds you deeply, and the whole wide world is watching. You can even give them the finger. Calling them an asshole or picko jedna for good measure is a classy and dainty touch. I will be wholeheartedly cheering you on from Eden if you do. Don’t use my death as an excuse to allow bullshittery to go unpunished. Fuck that shit.

But in the communications industries, what you see on the label isn’t what you actually get: you are told this entity represents X, when it represents Y.

We see this in the entertainment industry, especially when they proclaim to have “strong women” or “feminist” characters. It is utter and total bullshit. You cannot have a singer who is rail-thin, in a mock Playboy bunny outfit, and living up to every stereotype of a typical starlet be a “dangerous woman.” She defies no conventions. She adds nothing new to the discourse. She creates no new genre or message.

She isn’t a dangerous woman. She is a popular singer. She can carry a tune. She may be ambitious, but you do not have to be a feminist or a dangerous woman to be ambitious.

But it isn’t just Hollywood that misdirects attention with bombast and empty promises.

It is journalism, too.


Because journalism is trying to fight for its existence a day late and a dollar short, they are going for a melodramatic propaganda campaign that is holier-than-thou and self-aggrandizing.

Just like the psychopath ex you dumped who tells you that you cannot live with them.

There is a lot of gaslighting and a narrative where they are the selfless martyr who has to risk their lives for you, even though there is no evidence of it.

I doubt this will be their propaganda campaign in 2019 because it is not working.

But let’s break down how journalistic gaslighting works as their is the least sophisticated version of it.

And to keep things even simpler, let’s take a look at CNN’s journalistic meta-propaganda tool, a show about journalism called, ha ha, Reliable Sources, which is anything but reliable.

Mind you, once upon a time, this was a very good show. When Howard Kurtz and Bernard Kalb were hosting it. They actually did take a critical look at their own profession, had very smart and good interviews, and had good information and perspective.

Now, it is just plain garbage and bullshit used to propagate a self-serving narrative that journalism is the abusive ex you cannot live without.

Puke, puke.

So what propaganda is Reliable Sourced puking?

Well, the episode I saw today was the martyr bullshit story about how it was a “record” year of threats against journalists, which is nonsense. There really isn’t any reliable stats out there. After all, as a journalist, I got my share of various threats, and not one made it to any list of database, and we have had years where people such as Daniel Pearl, Chauncey Bailey, and Jill Dando were killed on the job as a direct result of doing their job.

Even if we were to look at stats, let’s not fall into a confirmation bias of looking at a single profession in a vacuum.

I bet it is more dangerous to live in Chicago than be a journalist.

Or someone on a cruise ship.

Or an aid worker in a war zone.

Or a US high school student.

I bet more nurses in Hamilton get harmed on the job in one year than the entire profession of journalism in a decade.

Or firefighters, police, and high school teachers because while I never met a reporter who got assaulted on the job, I know several teachers that did. I had a student in one of my college classes that I found later had beat another professor. I witnessed a classmate in the second grade throw a desk at my teacher and broke her leg.

How many first responders died on 9/11, compared to a single photographer who was killed by falling debris? (there were a few non-journalists who worked for broadcasters who were killed, but they weren’t targeted per se or killed covering the event — and you cannot compare them to the people who died saving others).

So when we start to do apples to apples comparison, journalism comes off as a very safe profession. Covering the sex life of Ariana Grande is not actually dangerous.

So it is safe to say journalists aren’t sticking out their necks for you.

They may be sticking their necks out lying, and their editors get fired for it when it gets exposed, yeah.

It isn’t as if journalists don’t die, but it is often from a domestic meltdown, a murderer who knows nothing of their profession, illness, or a drug overdose.

That happens to everybody.

But that is not the only sneaky things we see: trying to discredit critics by accusing them of having “fake” complaints" is rich and a typical gaslighting ruse.

I wonder if Fixpoetry is so cocky now that they ignored my warnings from the latest book and their nation’s most well-regarded newsmagazine published a whack of lies for years.

And no, Haaretz, journalism’s problems have nothing to do with “technological” shifts or having a hand’s off approach to so-called “rising stars”: they just never bothered with empirical methods. You don’t need an army of fact-checkers: you need empiricism. If you read my first book, you would have seen how many cases of fraud there was in all sorts of times and places — whether or not there was a photographer present.

There was a photographer present for this lie, Haaretz.


So here is a profession that never owns up to their problems are bothers to investigate their source. They take wild and unscientific guesses, but always fall back to trying to scare and gaslight people into trusting them.

Nice try.

But you fucked up your profession, and it screams the truth no matter how your try to manipulate the people who have abandoned you…

Intellectual Gesamtkunstwerk: Creating the visionary's matriarchal scaffolding.







I took an Art Nouveau course from Oxford University. Loved it lots for many reasons, but how often do you get to write Gesamtkunstwerk?

It is a clever concept. It is a visionary’s concept. It is a world building concept and a creator’s concept.

Build from scratch from the ground up. You are the clock. You are the compass. You design the structure and then the content.

The world is your canvas, and it is part consilience, part art, part science, and part engineering.

We often think of it in terms of art movements, but using it as an inspiration to create an intellectual scaffolding is something to consider.

I have when I created F.R.E.E.D. and refined and codified Matriarchal Storytelling.

We don’t have that kind of visionary thinking for journalism, and it is the reason I am doing what I am doing. Creating alternatives.

Everything is very patriarchal, and while Gesamtkunstwerk can imply creating everything to fall into The One, we can also create mosaics of the Infinite with them. We are not tethered by it, and the concept in no way places any kind of blinders.

We come with the blinders.

And it is funny that we speak of blinders as if that were an excuse: we may have blinders, but what about our other senses? Why are they not telling us important information?


We are not tethered.

And yet we hold on to disposable ideas as we are held back.

That’s why you get manipulated and played.

Instead of doing an intellectual inventory, weaving new facts into a latticework of ideas as we discard those that have been proven faulty, people hoard bullshit.

And then think shutting their eyes will make the evidence go away.

You don’t have to see it, but hear it or feel it.

What I am doing is building a scaffolding for information. I discussed one sector of it — journalism, and to a lesser extent, patriarchal fiction.

Now I am moving on to strategy.

The point is to use more than one sense to gather information.

And getting rid of any and all excuses to build new worlds and to find the big picture…

2019 brings a shift in focus.

As I have mentioned before, what is popular on this site and what happens to be my focus are two different things. If I talk about journalism — which is critical — then I don’t get that much traffic.

If I talk about strategy — which is also critical, but not what I am known for — then I get more traffic and more people coming here and staying.

To those of you, thank you.

We can see the in-fighting in journalism. The Wall Street Journal bringing the Washington Post to task for their propaganda.

And it is propaganda. There was a war against journalism, but journalism is no better with their war against democracy. Media stocks are not seeing a lift from their little raging wars, but a tumble, yet it isn’t stopping them in the slightest.

So what does that mean for this website?

Chaser is going to re-invent information dissemination.


A Dangerous Woman is going to continue to do storytelling differently.


But those aren’t the kinds of content I can produce every single day.

I’m bootstrapping, remember?

I am an army of one woman. No staff. No fabulously wealthy benefactors I have to appease.

So as I shift away from the old journalism, I am going to focus on strategy.


And how propaganda and manipulation are misdirecting collective thought away from critical thinking and free will with hate, fear-mongering, and ruses.

I will mention how certain articles are trying to rig thinking.

But also how to expand your options and outcomes with considering options that are hidden and suppressed.

I will be running down various war strategies, and recommend books and articles.

You know mine, but as I have ten Ikea shelves worth of books — and counting — filled with all sorts of reading, this will be your go-to place for it. It will be your reality check when you are tempted to let others do your thinking for you.

With anarchy coming because the Establishment failed to manipulate enough people to vote the way they wanted in 2016, the big guns are all over the place, this is the place that gives you sensibility in an impossibly ill-behaved world.

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I already know who is reading me. I might as well give them something to talk about…

When you have those cock-sucking motherfuckers thinking they can bomb people into submission, they should realize not everyone rolls that way.

So, for all the gaslighting, puritanical shaming, and the like, let’s not fall for that bullshit in 2019.

Let those lazy Establishment fuckers earn their keep for once.


The Chaser Solution: Epilogue: おもいやり, baby!


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Omoiyari. What a quaint notion. The idea of altruism. It is a not a notion taught in j-schools, but it is one I abide by because if you are in the business to teach and/or inform, that has to be your guiding motive.

Because knowledge is one of those things you give without losing it yourself.

So long as you understand that it is something without strings attached.

Too bad journalists never learned that lesson.

The Toronto Star never did, judging by this article with the link stating this:

Donald Trump has made at least 3,924 false claims so far in his presidency. The Star's Daniel Dale counted

How many lies did the Canadian PM make? How many did the Star?

How many secrets did the federal regime keep from the public? How many did the Star?

They both had a mutual secret that got exposed recently.

And it is a very treacherous one that is, in fact, scandalous.

But both the Star and the federal Grits are in serious trouble. That magic weed isn’t doing its trick, and the gullible rubes at the Globe and Mail think they know something, but they are morons.

Journalists failure to understand おもいやり has cost them their clout.

A profession thrives and progresses so long as it has innocence and idealism, from education to medicine to journalism.

When you allow psychopaths to infiltrate a noble profession and use sophistry and logical fallacies to cover up their wickedness, the profession becomes corrupt, rotten, and eventually FUBAR.


Canadian journalism is the best example of that rot that turned them into propaganda tools. The CBC doesn’t get it. They are speculating about Trump’s government shut down and how it could backfire. They do not understand military strategy, and hence, don’t see the big picture.

When I wrote OutFoxed: Rupert Murdoch’s war on journalism, I studied The O’Reilly Factor very carefully. I drew maps all over the place. I read every single transcript of the program from the first to the very last one before I could no longer update my book. I broke down his methods and strategies and treated them like military operation plans.


For good measure, I used my Britain’s toy soldiers to recreate five of his most effective gambits, with each soldier representing his arguments.

There was no wonder why he held full control for almost every debate save for one, which I wrote about at length that pretty much came off like this:

But Trump has a natural instinct that surpasses O’Reilly. You cannot interview a couple of “experts” and think you have figured him out.

Because journalists are so isolated from the world, that they have no idea who they are covering. They live in a psychic bubble and have less and less connect with the public.


No おもいやり.

おもいやり requires you to give, not to take.

It requires you to have respect for the past, nurture the present, and be a guardian for the future.

That’s not journalism.

Not anymore.

おもいやり guides me. I feel おもいやり and am grateful that I do.

I see things from the heart. I have emotions that give me as much information as my mind. It gives me the courage to face reality in order to find the truth.

Journalism could have been reinvented and stronger than ever. Instead of seeing problems as puzzles to solve, they decided they were going to brainwash 7.4 billion people and trick them into giving up their free will and liberties. Enough already.

Deal with your own rot first. Write exposés about the wickedness of your own profession. Once you see how far you have sunk, then you’ll understand how you got there and why people walked away from you.

Instead of scaring people, you should be making them brave.

That’s おもいやり.

That’s what is at heart of everything I do in my life, including a little resurrected site called…


The Chaser Solution: Chapter Twelve: Months in a year, hours on a clock, it all comes up to a dozen. We mark time, but never make the most of it.


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Petty shits.

Who was worse this week?

The New York Times for publishing family gossip that was unsubstantiated, or NBC for not correcting the record when they knew they were wrong?

Even the Washington Post is cautioning them to be careful of not spreading fake news.

Should anyone care about the Times’ story? I don’t recall too many modern presidents being soldiers or enlisting. They still got voted in. Canadian universities still have those Left-wing American draft dodgers as professors, and no one is getting upset about that.

The same people who were marching in anti-war protests are bitching about someone who didn’t fight a war? You assholes didn’t, either; so just shut the fuck up.

The middle class don’t care about much.

Not even if the news has no connect to reality.

Take CBC here in Canada. They puke bullshit how the Canadian economy was “resilient” in 2018, but for whom? We had a lot of stores closing. We had factories closing.

We have a homeless crisis, and in traditionally middle class safe havens such as the Golden Horseshoe. Real estate is rapidly cooling off, and household debt is at very bad levels. We have an opioid crisis, and that’s not a sign of prosperity.

Yet like a dubbed foreign film, the voice over doesn’t ever match up with the moving lips.


So what’s going on?

On the one hand, it is a confirmation bias: choose a self-serving narrative, and look for evidence that supports your narrative as you ignore evidence that refutes it. In the US, the press is anti-Trump all the time. It is pure insanity because they had power to be kingmakers until the day they weren’t. They are mad at him for showing them the reality of their situation.

They should have been grateful.

They should have seen what happened and how to re-invent their profession. Instead, they veered into rank propaganda and haven’t stopped as their fortunes go further down.

They hate Trump. They also hate Facebook for the same reason. They hate “populism” — again, for the same reason. They got mad at poor people for expressing themselves, using social media to do it, and voting for the only candidate that spoke to them during the election.

Once upon a time, journalists wouldn’t be hating those people: they would be writing about them and speaking to them, but then they got full of themselves and got lost in narcissistic fantasy.

You used to inform these same people. You used to publish their letters to the editor. You used to get outraged when they got hurt in life, and the Establishment tried to screw them over.

What happened to those people? Where did you go wrong?

In Canada, the press betrayed the people, but in a different way: they lied to them, but are lulling them into thinking things are better than they actually are. They mimic Soviet-style propaganda where the news told citizens how great the economy was, and it was in the toilet. People laughed at the news because it was bullshit and they knew it.

They believed it for a while, until they imploded. Regions broke away, and the fragmentation spelled the end of that system of governance.

It happened to the Soviet Union. It happened to Yugoslavia.

Would it happen to Canada? It depends how badly things go. Quebec, British Columbia, and Alberta would leave. Toronto would, too. The US would greatly benefit because they could gain access to natural resources easily and quietly. It is not as if Canada would be a match for the US, but why do it loudly, when you can do the same thing silently without fuss?

But Canada was always an impossible country: it is too big with too few people spread out too far apart.

What holds them together? Fairy tales.

The kicker is that if this country could face reality, it would leave other countries in the dust.


The US is in the same position. There is nothing wrong with their president. He is no worse than his predecessor. You cannot fault Donald Trump for seeing reality that you can win a presidency by stumping and going directly to the people in person — and by using Twitter. Kudos to him.

He exposed that the media has no teeth. They have been gumming at him for so long that you’d think they’d get tired of their own temper tantrum.

The press should have just stood back and saw their own arrogant and oblivious childishness.

I remember talking to one US reporter about Trump before November 2016. He thought Clinton would win it. I said no way. He was absolutely certain, citing polls. I said look at the polls for Brexit, and even for Toronto’s mayoralty race where Rob Ford handily won. He said it was an apples to oranges comparison. I said it was apples to apples.

Trump won.

I could see what Trump saw: a dead media. The model was no longer aligned with reality. If the strongest of the media — the US — couldn’t do it, then neither could anyone else. People can get offended all they want, but no other country had the journalistic muscle saved for the UK. They are having the same problems, and there is no relief in sight.

And what you have is a hamster wheel that marks nothing.

What you don’t have is news anymore. North, East, West, South.

No one minding the times. No one minding the place.

For example, child exploitation is a serious problem in Canada. So is human trafficking. We have a serious problem with First Nations women vanishing and being murdered. Lots of child pornography and prostitution going on here.

And the laws here are a joke.

With a press that aids and abets these people.

And in the US, the hate on Trump is so out of control that the US will pay for it for decades to come because no one is paying attention at the things that are actually important.

How many people can live well? How many people die needlessly?

What are the dangers?

That’s news.

It is not a fairytale. It is not campfire story.

It is a clock. It is a compass.

You know where you are right now and where things are going?

When you know, you are F.R.E.E.D.

What should you be going after?

That’s Chaser.

The strength isn’t in the One.

It is in the Infinite.


And, darlings, that is your message to ponder very carefully, courtesy of…


The Chaser Solution: Chapter Eight: A Palimpsest? That was an ancient form of a Hot 110. Mene mene tekel upharsin, baby. You better understand the writing on the wall.










The biblical Daniel was a man about town. He survived a night in a lion’s den. He could read the writing on the wall.

In other words, he was a survivor.

I have a fascination with graffiti. If you want to know what is in store for the future, read the fucking graffiti.

People have wondered how I manage to predict certain things, but I am aware of my surroundings.

And of the writing on the walls.


When I worked as a journalist, for years, I had pitched to various magazines about the topic of how graffiti was a harbinger for future political moods. It isn’t just scribbles on a wall: these are the warnings of the mood that is about to infect a mainstream. Look for the poorest in a region, and the nature of the shift in their hardships will inevitably strike the middle class before hitting the wealthy.

The poor know exactly what has hit them and why it is bad. To survive, they have to be aware of their surroundings. The middle class are oblivious until it hits them and the rich aren’t bailing them out — that they’ll notice.

Start with your poorest, and you will know what the richest will do to stave off the problem.

But the wealthy do not want to make the middle class too jittery, and they will write over the walls, so to speak, in a bid to suppress what the poorest have to say.

In graffiti talk, that was known as a Hot 110. Writing over someone else’s graffiti is a sign of disrespect. And the wealthy will be disrespectful to the lower classes: suppressing the calls from the poor in order to lull the middle class to prevent them from seeing what is really going on.

The Internet made problems because it is much harder to keep those things hidden, but it is still easy to ignore things that you do not want to face.

Yet it is all there. The Internet is a palimpsest in that we write over things written from before.

But it is also a Hot 110. People wanting to write over those walls in order to keep certain things hidden.

Except they can’t be hidden. You can still see them.

It is a question of drawing attention to them.

Or creating a different kind of graffiti.

Chaser is going to take the spirit of graffiti and do something else with it. I won’t be vandalizing the walls, but I am going to make the most of walls of all sorts to do something different.

And that is your message from…


The Chaser Solution: Chapter Seven: No confirmation biases. That's a misdirection.


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Woody Allen? Never been a fan of that over-rated and self-absorbed asshole. He got a free pass. The end.

But here is Allen, a Leftist Hollywood player. All the limousine liberals drooled over him for decades.

Then came #MeToo, and then, it wasn’t as cool to like him.

But it hasn’t stopped people on the Left from trying to deflect this fact, comparing him to a Rightist politician from the South…

Yeah, but he isn’t. He’s one of your Golden Boys. Nice try.


You can see what happens when certain people lose their protection. Fox News’ Bill O’Reilly got turfed off the network after his guardian Roger Ailes was sacked.

Now, that CBS’s Les Moonves got kicked to the curb, his charge Michael Weatherly is getting horrific press as things come out.

When someone has great press and superfabulous power, you don’t get people wondering why and how that happened. We have hoaxes that get free media attention, and we assume they vetted the story when they didn’t.

And media darlings don’t get vetted. They get feted.

Until their saviour is gone, and then people who were previously placed in a choke collar are free to say what is really going on.

The confirmation bias is more than a logic fallacy: it is a form of deception and misdirection. We look for things that confirm a theory, and not the things that refute it.

That’s not what Chaser is about.

It is about looking at different sides and pointing out their similarities, not just their differences. It is about showing how and why things are happening, not just looking at press releases.

It will show how different groups use a contrasting content to mask that they are using the same structures. It will not cheerlead ideologies, but question them. Like food labels, Chaser is going to show the ingredients — and then leave it to you to decide how much junk you are willing to swallow…


The Chaser Solution: Chapter Nine: Let 7.4 billion people focus on Trump. I have a life.






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The unworldly motherfuckers over at the Guardian make me laugh:

The US is on the edge of the economic precipice – Trump may push it over

Oh, you crazy kids. That’s the whole point.

He plays Go. How many times do I have to tell you dumbass knuckle-draggers? The point of Go is to surround your enemy and drown him in your swirl of stones.

If you are stuck in quicksand, you don’t fight. The more you struggle, the faster you sink.

The Left are spoiled brats who are not used to doing their own thinking. Mom and dad did it all for them. They threw fits, and there is a penalty for it.

7.4 billion people and the majority don’t get it.

I knew he was going to win, and I prepared. I didn’t get upset. I got to work.

Because it really doesn’t matter who is elected in office. The rich stay rich and the poor stay poor.

Yet the press doesn’t report on that. People would get distressed if they came to grips with the fact that they will die on a hamster wheel.

I had to make a decision when I decided to resurrect Chaser: who is my audience, and what do I actually cover?

With 7.4 billion people on the planet pretty much fixated on one man.

Imagine that. That is one hell of a lockstep.

One person I will always be covering is Alexandra Kitty.

You will get to know me. There is a person here, and it is important to know who you are dealing with. Society has lost its ability to connect, and in order to foster connection, I am the conduit for this site, just as I am a conduit for A Dangerous Woman Studio.

I do hear snarky remarks about my choice of subject. I have had people say, “You always talk about yourself,” to which I answer, “And you always talk about Trump, and I am much more interesting.”

People focus on his typos more than they do on anything or anyone else. What the fuck is wrong with people?

Fuck you.

But people do not like when a woman talks about herself without trying to appease some guy, put herself down, or is eccentric.

A woman can have hundred of DC action figures all over her house like a museum, thousands of comic books, and an entire room of Lego with working trains and cars that are made into a city, no one notices.

A man plays with dolls to cope with life, and they make a documentary and movie about him.

I can’t even say not every man gets attention because the Atlantic gave a platform to a former journalist who now delivers for Amazon. Even a down-on-his-luck guy gets more attention than a woman who had the world collapse around her.

A man created the Intercept, and even woman who think they are feminists wonder why there is no feminist Intercept when there was long before the Intercept.

I can tell you about the Blue Beetle or about the jewelry of Josef Hoffmann. You want to know about various Japanese playing cards? I am your woman. I can tell you about female magicians, rabbits, metalworking, and Clarice Cliff, among other things.

It is not as if I think I am the only person who does her own thing, but how many woman do their own thing and no one gives them any notice?

So when I decided to launch Chaser, I made a few big decisions: the focus will not be on what the locksteppers are obsessed with. Fuck that shit.

It will always be on information and stories that are important to know.

It will be the place where you find out about mindsets and rigs.

It will be the tools you need to navigate through information so you do not fall for propaganda of any sort.

And it will be from someone who has a life!


The Chaser Solution: Chapter Six: I have lived through a cascading catastrophe. I don't waste good. I also never waste bad.


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Until 2018, that first picture was the moment that became the worst day of my life.

What you see is the aftermath of two paramedics who dropped my grandmother carrying her out of her bedroom. The figure in the white shirt is my mother.

I took that picture.

I was in my office in the next room right after I checked to see if the path was cleared and went into the office to get out of the way. They fucked up all the same.

I wasn’t expecting it. She had to be taken by paramedics before, and grandma knew the drill. This time, she just had to go back to the hospital because a home care nurse thought the PICC was dislodged. She was to go, have a doctor check it out, make an adjustment if the nurse was right, and come back home. It was routine and she was nonchalant about it because she was stoic by nature. She had just come from the hospital the day before after recovering from having her leg amputated, and after a few weeks, she was in goods spirits and she was discharged, already talking about getting a prothetic leg. She wasn’t home for a full 24 hours. Notice the red hospital sock she had on her remaining foot.

It didn’t turn out to be routine. The paramedics dropped her. I heard the crash, then my mother screaming, “You killed my mother!”

At this jolt, my journalist’s instinct took over, I grabbed my iPhone, and snapped that picture because I thought they killed her and this was going to be a criminal matter. I was thinking in terms of evidence for police.

Then my grandmother said they broke her arm. She was still alive from that big drop.

I remember them placing her in a cloth stretcher. Usually, paramedics placed her on one of those transport chairs and wheeled her out. They placed her on the stretcher without incident, and then she sunk in and the polls were above her.

The next moment came the crash, and then my mother screaming. She developed PTSD as a result of seeing it. There was blood on the floor and the wall as well as my grandmother’s teeth. It was a traumatic and gruesome sight.

We had company downstairs. They heard everything.

I had to stay home. Mom went to the hospital. The paramedics were there when she told the doctors in emergency what happened.

The second photograph I also took. That came from the Trauma Unit and the doctor accidentally dropped that paper. I took a picture of it.

I have about six banker’s boxes from that now-settled case. I have countless pictures of my grandmother’s open stump because the doctors no longer had skin to work with, and the VACC wasn’t helping. It looked like a pork chop, but somehow, it healed and closed, but it took months.

The paramedics never mentioned anything about what transpired when they messed up in the initial report, as if nothing happened. For any doctor who got their report, there would be no mention of the new injuries. It was more than just an arm broken in two places. It was also broken teeth, a brain bleed, bruising all over her body that turned black, her stump popped open which became a nightmare in itself, and she became completely immobile, as in becoming a quadriplegic.

They are not the only Ontario paramedics who didn’t do things right. There have been lawsuits over the years. You go to the courthouse and then spend forever on an ancient and slow computer looking through files and then working from there. For every chirpy press release, or woe-is-us uncritical article, there is more to the story than meets the eye.


My grandmother’s tragedy all happened during the long weekend. My life would change completely. I didn’t just have a bedridden grandmother who didn’t want to die to look after 24/7, I also had a mother who had PTSD 24/7, too. She was so focussed on my grandmother that she wasn’t looking after herself, and I wasn’t looking after me because I had two people to worry about. Mom won an award from CCAC for looking after grandma, not once, but twice.

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But as I said, chirpy press releases about awards don’t tell you the whole story. It was a horrific ordeal. Everything was on my shoulders to ensure we were still functional. I had no one to share the burden or understand. Charmed, whimsical, and assured Alexandra Kitty, Mycroftian-smart and Batman-prepared to the hilt, was thrown into a lion’s den.

People began to annoy me with their “advice”, which was no advice. Easy, obvious answers that neither work nor confront the actual problem was off-putting. It was like getting diagnosed with cancer and someone tell you to take an aspirin for it.

Or they’d tell me everything was going to be fine, get over it, granny is old so she should just shove off and die, anyway; so why don’t we talk about me even less, and their trip to the shoe store more. Usually what happens is that people drop those who are going through a bad time — the “Just-World Hypothesis”, if you will.

In my case, I was the one who dropped people. Fuck that shit. I had people ask me why because they didn’t understand why I was no longer answering calls, texts, or emails. I never replied back. If you had to ask, you just didn’t get it, and you never will. Go have a ball at the shoe store, and live up to that shallow and consumerist Middle Class script. I would rather spend whatever last few moments I had with one half of my entire family than listen about high heels from an empty-head.

Those who understood weren’t of that ilk. I have been repeatedly accused of being too stoic, but I don’t see the point of falling apart. It is messier, a total life sink, and wastes time and resources better spent on fixing the problem than becoming the bigger one yourself. People come to me when things fall apart and are surprised how cool and productive I am in chaos — I am, but I got that way because I have thrown in enough anarchy to adjust, see the secret patterns, and then form a plan.

That is the reason why I got through it. Mom did, too. My grandmother, sadly, did not.

Yet I learned a lot. I went into the eye of the storm, and I discovered the machinations and playbooks of an Establishment. Even though I was distracted and torn from every side, I can now tell you the war strategies of certain institutions.

And when you are not tethered, distracted, or bogged down, you can study things, and figure other things out. Out of all of this wretched bad, I got a road map, and an invaluable one at that. While I prefer pre-hoc Method Research, I ended up with a post-hoc form of Method Research, and now have something to compare as well as add something new to my already singular repertoire.

Chaser is going to be more than just a news vehicle. It is going to be something more useful.

And enigmatic.

Because someone has to level that rigged playing field…and it might as well be me.

I survived worse, and came back swinging. I don’t waste good, but I also don’t waste bad.

So, there will be no fear-mongering, but plenty of brave-mongering.

And that is your message from…


The Chaser Solution: Chapter Two: This is a Picture Book, not it doesn't belong to the devil, but the Alchemist.















That newsletter is significant for many reasons.

I tracked it down when I was a university student. 60 Minutes tried, and couldn’t, but I managed to get it after speaking with the editor Joseph de Courcy, and I bet most of you have no idea about him or his family’s amazing history. I had the honour of talking to him, and in all that rotten business during the Civil War in Yugoslavia, that conversation was a welcome high point that I wouldn’t trade for anything.

I still have that newsletter. I learned there were publications — small quiet ones, with a tiny, but critical audience, that brokered in real information. As in, stuff spies, diplomats, and other powerful and intrepid people read.

That was one of the countless sources that I used in my last book. A source used by the likes of the CIA and MI6.

And I could track it down before veteran reporters. It wasn’t a lucky break or a case of beginner’s luck.

When this venture relaunches, I am saying right now for the record, this is not going to be fake news or propaganda for sheeple.

It will be simple and elegant and balance opposites: it will have the latent flourishes of Art Nouveau, but with a Minimalist sensibility.

This isn’t going to be telling you about good news or happy news.

It will give you facts. Turn those cards around to navigate through the world. Take something bad and, like the alchemist, turn it into something golden.

Chaser will be a picture book of sorts, but not the Devil’s Picture Book. You will get your reading of the cards, but divination here is not divine. It is reality. It is truth.

It is…


The Chaser Solution: Chapter Eleven: The script doesn't play in the real world.








I talk a lot about war propaganda here. I also mention a lot about the board game Go.

I also talk about something called emotional literacy.

And all three of these threads are overlooked, particularly by those people who are conniving, but think they are smart.

Lying is an interesting dynamic. You have to feel like a complete inferior failure when you lie because you know the truth: that you either not as as great as other people, or you have no other advantage.

But to lie means you also have a conflicting superiority complex in that you think you are the smartest one in the room because you think no one will see through the lie.

If, as Sun Tzu noted, war is deception, then it stands to reason that war is a form of this kind of incompatible thinking. We know psychopaths lie to get their way, and they have no feelings towards others.

War is a collective psychopath.

We know one more thing: the more emotionally healthy and literate a person is, the more spontaneous, confident, secure, and unpredictable they are. The more unemotionally unhealthy a person is, they more scripted, rote, insecure, and predictable they are because they cling on to scripts to guide them.

In order for a psychopath to “win”, they have to rig boards and create rules for others to blindly follow. They have to make their lies look like reality. They have to gaslight people. They have to bully and shame them into following the script.

They have to ensure that people are selfish and self-obsessed so they are too busy trying to cover up their own defects that they don’t see how badly they are being manipulated.

They also have to create false narratives, find an enemy who stands out, and then get people to be equally focussed on the misdirection so they don’t see how they are being exploited by the real villain.

But there is a problem: the script doesn’t play in the real world.

Sooner or later, someone comes in, laughs at the script, and then ruins your production.

This is the reason the Left despise Donald Trump. They spent decades cultivating a foolproof script, shame anyone who opposed as being stupid, evil, crazy, primitive, and immoral, and rigging the board as they became the Establishment.

They pushed for “globalization” which was meant to ensure the entire world dutifully followed their script, and were spinning bullshit stories about fabled family “dynasties” instead of just admitting they were all for nepotism and keeping the spoils all for themselves.

And then Trump spoiled their script.

He is making strategic things that are fucking up the system. The moment the Democrats got control of the House, the rules all broke. The Democrats thought the strong economy was going to work for them and give the monies to try to fix the narrative, and now they know they are in a depression game board.

That means they are now in serious trouble. They cannot bribe voters because those voters are scared shitless trying to keep things together. All their rich friends are now in meltdown mode, meaning the billions they were banking on are now gone.

And all the game plans are worthless. It is truly remarkable.

Trump has no problem shutting down the government. For a long time. Over Christmas. Everything is going against the script.

Things that the Left have spent decades trying to tell the little people that Are Just Wrong. They drew a line in the sand, and bank on people not crossing the line.

I am not unfamiliar with being silly. When I was a kid, when I did something naughty, my mom would decree that I was punished.

There was no punishment. It was a loss of face, and a horrible mark on my honour. It worked like a charm until my uncle heard an instance, and then asked “What’s the punishment” before the little light went off in my head. Mom lost an effective racket, but I learned a lesson.

And I kept on learning from it.

Journalists have not learned a thing.


Canada hasn’t learned anything, either. There is a silly piece in the Globe and Mail that shows how clueless it is:

The Chinese government needs friends – people who are a lot like the Canadians it has detained

No, they don’t. From the food we eat to the clothes we wear to everything else in Canada, the World’s Factory produced it. If China refused to sell us anything, we’d be seriously fucked.

China doesn’t need Canada. We are not even a pimple on its backside. We could be wiped off the map tomorrow, China wouldn’t even feel it.

China has citizens with solid gold toilets, while our citizens cannot afford a dinky 10K gold chain. Cash for gold didn’t take off here if people were doing well..

The scary thing about all of these troubles is that Canada’s global scandals are exposing just how weak and inconsequential we are — and no one seems to notice because they are following scripts that do not play in the real world.

So let’s be frank with the Canadian public. China is the stronger power. They don’t need us, but we are completely dependent on them for our survival. You have people here whining about not getting free government money through Basic Income anymore: do you think they are going to go to a trade school, get educated, and then go work full-time in a factory to pick up the slack?

They found some script about how they are special and are hence entitled, and are now following it and believing it.

So, what has Canada done in 2018? Arrogantly alienated the US, Saudi Arabia, and China. We cannot take any moral high ground or have any virtuous airs by now throwing the sins of these nations in their faces because we put up with it when it suited our own lazy asses.

We decided to throw some non-existent weight around and talked down to all three of them, pretending to be superior. This was a bad mistake.

Because the script doesn’t play in the real world.

But only emotionally illiterate scrip- followers buy propaganda and get surrounded and sunk in a game of Go.

Like journalists did. And the federal government in Canada.


I don’t buy scripts. They are misdirections, not guides. And 2019 is going to show just how those scripts do not play in the real world. It will be a horrific year for those people. It will disillusioning that scripts aren’t good when you are in the chaos of anarchy and bad things come at you from all possible sides.

For people who do not follow scripts, 2019 will be a wonderful year. It is going to be one of those years where things take a strange shift. A few years ago, age was the factor: suddenly people over 40 were the hip and coveted ones, while the young generation were duds who played it safe. You can thank social media for turning over the old rules.

2019 will be a watershed year for a different reason. The architects of the old script are going to be in for a rough ride, and once the spell is broken, their flocks will turn on them. The scripts will be fodder for bonfires, and with that light, other things will be illuminated.

The stones on the Go board are turning into dominos.

And Chaser will be ready.

I don’t do scripts. I don’t panic. I don’t scare. I have proven my mettle in 2018. 2019 is going to be a fun year for me.

Get ready.

And that is your message from…


The Chaser Solution: Chapter Zero: I am many things, but numb isn't one of them. Yet I see that numbness all around me.


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I took that picture when the body of slain soldier Cpl. Nathan Cirillo was being driven past my house on Main Street East in Hamilton. I had guests at the time and everyone was watching the feed on Twitter, following the progress so they could come out and pay their respects.

That was 2014.

It was a terrorist attack on Canadian soil that killed him, and worse, his gun was ornamental, meaning there wasn’t any bullets in it.

That’s sanctioned insanity.

Everything has a façade. Most people don’t scratch the surface. They take a half-assed look, think everything is sturdy, and tune out.

Until someone calls the bluff.

But it is funny how we get immune to homogenization. I remember this lawsuit. Madonna and her producer eventually won it, but it is interesting that music has become less diverse, even though there are more categories of genres we come up with…that sound more alike than different.

You may also not realize how little choice we actually have. When there was that giant pet food recall scandal years ago, it was telling how many seemingly rival companies and brands all had to be chucked because they came from the same tainted vat, which, if we have diversity, should not have happened. The cheap brands and the pricey brands were all affected.

It is the same with clothing and jewelry lines: companies own a bunch of different brands, but the kicker is they contract out to the same small cluster of factories. Don’t look on the label: look at the numbers on the back — those identify the factory it was made, and if you are sharp, you can compare numbers to find out out the the same brand uses different factories, and that rival brands use the same factory to make their garbage.

I know it, but people around me have no clue as they crow about overpaying for things made in the same factories as the products they put down.


When I looked after my grandmother during her final two years, I spent a lot of time in the emergency room. Bad things happen when you are helpless, and your innards start to atrophy. You must constantly move or your body starts to shut down. When the paramedics dropped her, they turned her body into a prison.

I sat a lot in emergency rooms, and there were a whole collection of different kinds of people in there. Doped up teens was a big segment. They would take drugs, flip out, and then go to the hospital.

I remember one girl who had no idea what was swimming in her head. She yelled at the nurses repeatedly, asking, Can’t you see that my face is numb?

She had no clue that no, nurses can’t see your numb face. Whatever shit she was on wore off, she got perky, and left.

But her stupid comments stayed behind for me to muse about them, and take up the challenge.

Can you see numbness?

Yes, you can see emotional numbness. You can even see intellectual numbness. It’s just the physical kind that, ironically, hides itself from shallow visual examination.

Numbness in a society kills off many things, such as skepticism and more importantly, curiosity. The more numb you are, the harder it is to learn.

So how do you deal with numbness when you are relaunching a news vehicle?

How do you get the senses of others to turn on?

Once upon a time, that was a problem for me. Now, there is a solution.

It is a counterintuitive world where up is down and down is up. Outside is inside and inside is outside.

To provoke in a numb world means to remember that you cannot see physical numbness, but the intangible numbness is easily seen.

Chaser will provoke. It will be a shock. Not for the first three arcs, and not for the fourth.

But starting with the fifth arc, everything changes.

How so?

The first two arcs will take a story, and break it down for you. They will be annotated and curated. The content of the article will be secondary to the commentary.

The One Shot will be a historical one, but with a twist: I will use modern sensibilities on an old crime case to show a different angle. This is arc three.

Arc four brings back one of the my original Chaser stories. It will be updated, but I am going to reinvent the story by using the F.R.E.E.D. method.

By fall, comes the fifth arc. This is going to be all F.R.E.E.D. and Matriarchal. It will provoke, but not in a traditional sense. This will be different and completely different than anything journalism has ever done before.

It will be by bootstrapping. I am not going to sink money in this story. By the fall, you will get to know me. Each arc is a new level. I am not going to overwhelm you or try to impress you. This will be done by simple methods because this will be the core.

Then I will pullback, and then by January 2020, I will introduce the sixth arc that will be more complicated, refining and modifying things.

And that is your message from…


The Chaser Solution: Chapter Five: There is nothing wrong with being okay with yourself. Doing things on your on time and order in your own way is just fine.




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I need to get back in shape.

I remember when I used to be thin. I boxed regularly. I was buff.


When Hamilton magazine took that photo of me for their profile, baby, I had muscles.

A couple of years ago, I was a passenger in a car that was stopped at a red light for quite a long time, and then the car I was in got totalled from behind by a hit and run driver. I managed to snap a picture of the getaway, but at least one other person got it on camera as well.


There was damage to me. I had pain that lasted for months, and when I went to a clinic and the doctor ordered an x-ray, he didn’t know I was in a car accident because I didn’t say anything, but he knew from the x-rays.

I was just sitting in the car at a red light musing about having salmon sausages for dinner and then that car hit into my car. Full speed without hitting the brakes. The police found the driver, but the games being played are a waste, and it doesn’t do a thing for the fact that the impact left me with problems.

There was absolutely nothing that I could have done to alter the outcome.


I remember what the police officer said after he gave me his card, “Remember that you are victims of a crime.”

We were. I cannot change that fact that I was a victim of a hit and run. That picture was taken with my iPad because the impact of the crash broke my iPhone. My legs were all black from the impact.

It was not something I needed nor wanted. I had to get home to look after my bedridden grandmother. That was the reality of my life at the time. I just had more pain and stress for the troubles.

And I had a full plate already. I didn’t get to think about Alexandra Kitty. That was not a luxury I could afford.

I can think about her now. I can think about her love for animals, her silly sense of humour that didn’t sour, and how much she loves learning and arts, and has a peculiar knowledge of the history of playing cards.

I also remember she wrote her first book on how journalism had too much rot in it.


When I decided to relaunch Chaser, I had to think about me. A lot.

I had let too much get away from me, and I have this gap of what happened to me because I could not focus on me for a long time until 2018 tried to get take advantage of that hole in my knowledge.

Boy, did I remember who I was and fast.

I am a fighter.

I am also an out-and-out eccentric.

That eccentricity saved my life because not even nature could predict or control me. I could fight back in a novel way that not even my misfortune could decipher.

But I am eccentric.

I mean, who else can be a serious intellectual — say it on a website — and post seemingly random images (spoiler alert: they are not random) of all sorts of peculiar things, and not give one flying fuck (and write profanity like nobody’s business) what people have to say?

I have always been eccentric. We can start with my imaginary friend Danny when I was a toddler. We can also discuss my countless forays as a girl scientist who made stuff explode. I was reading comics and boxing before it was a thing for women. My movie tastes are obscure. I don’t watch television, but I will binge watch a series. My fiction writing is epic and complex. I played the left-hander’s tuba and am learning the theremin.

I will wear mismatched sandals, too. Same style, different colours, and then match my toenails. I shop for furniture at the Re-Store because I don’t like the shoddy workmanship of modern furniture. If they had wood bookshelves, I wouldn’t have to get them at Ikea.

I don’t look eccentric. I am not a loon or some flighty ditz. I just believe in being myself.

Over the years, I have had people try to shame, bully, or control me into being someone else. I find people are very intimidated by a woman who is eccentric. I don’t know why. I like eccentric people.

Because they are the ones who are being authentic.

And I don’t understand why people want to get rid of the very things that would make them lovable.

People who know me know me. I just found my Guy Gardner action figure and had a good chuckle: I ordered it from a comic book store about a decade ago. I frequented that shop since I was a teenager, and bought so much shit in that store that the owner (who sadly passed away a few years ago) commissioned a Catwoman drawing as a Christmas gift for me as well as have one Catwoman graphic novel autographed by the artist who drew it, and I also just came across both today.

I couldn’t get to the store to pick up the Guy Gardner figure; so my mother — who doesn’t know her superhero comics, volunteered to pick it up.

Great, I thought, until she came back with a very odd facial expression. I got my figure, but there was an incident at the store. Guy Gardner is a Green Lantern, but she knew he was a Green something, and she guessed Green Goblin.

And the faux pas did not go down well with the owner or the other customers who chastised her and yelled, “It’s Green Lantern! Alexandra would never get a Green Goblin action figure!”

That’s true, totally. They seemed quite angry at her for not knowing, and while she didn’t like being told, I found it funny. This was the Big Bang Theory a little before the actual Big Bang Theory.

I am not predictable, but I am distinctive. People who know me will tell you my favourite band is The Hives, for instance, or that my favourite female singer is Annie Lennox.

They know I know Wesley Willis, and like Penn and Teller. I am a superfan of Sherlock Holmes. Watership Down and A Confederacy of Dunces are my favourite fiction novels. I love Kintsugi and encaustics. I love white roses and orchids.

And I am in a great place with it.

But it took me a few months to turn on the switch and be me again. It’s funny how minimalist you become when certain things start happening to you.

When I did re-start myself, suddenly, Chaser came roaring back.

Yoo hoo, Lexy! It shouted to me, Where were we?

I missed Chaser. It was eccentric journalism.

And it is coming back full force with a more mature and wise Alexandra Kitty behind it.

She is more okay with herself, especially after experiencing what she could triumph over.

And if there is one message to this venture, it’s stop trying to be someone you are not because you are wasting your life.

But if you are yourself, the message will be a different one: here is news that’s made for you.

The script doesn’t play in the real world, kids.

But Chaser does…and so does Alexandra Kitty…


The Chaser Solution: Chapter Ten: There is only one business model available to those who disseminate news. Bootstrapping. Any other is a fraud.















The old business model of journalism was based on an old-fashioned world that made Howard Hughes a billionaire even though he was just a goober: he had access to something other people were denied: a special drill, and in the oil industry, it was the bit more than the oil that counted because the bit was a key.

Back in the olden times, kids, media owners had the key to all the mass communications tools, such as broadcasting license or a printing press. They had access to a big audience, and their core of their business model assumed that if you wanted to advertise to a big potential base, you had to play by their rules because those motherfuckers had a key and you could not unlock that special access area without them.

Because of the rigs, it it rewarded and attracted a certain kind of person to run those properties: script-memorizers who held tightly to the key, thinking it was a permanent crown.

In other words, it rewarded assholes.

Then the Internet said, “Fuck you” to those assholes, and then the whole world had that access. It would be akin if someone had a better bit than Hughes and then just gave it to everyone to drill their own oil. Hughes would be flipping hamburgers, and everyone else would live happily ever after. The End.

Now that the old model is kaput, you would think they would see what has changed, and then devise new plans based on the new reality.



Because they are arrogant assholes who think they are superior to the little people. They are so used to bossing people around and telling then what to think. They do not want to mix or mingle with those plebs.

They don’t want to slum it with poor people. Those are icky populists who aren’t even impressed with reporters, and call them out for spewing fake news.

They like to hobnob with rich and powerful people, fellate them at cocktail parties and maybe get a patronage appointment that pays better than the low-rent job as a journalist.

It is a sad state of affairs.

I interviewed the haves and the have-nots when I worked as a journalist. I interviewed people in boardrooms and people in jail. Some of those people in boardrooms ended up in jail or are just not in boardrooms anymore because they got kicked to the curb. The people I interviewed from jail are not in jail anymore. They were released and are productive members of society, never looking back.

I always was mystified by journalism. I went into it to study it, and I could not for the life of me understand the demented arrogance of people in it who thought it was a horrid thing to interact with other human beings. I loved, loved, loved that part of the job. I never tired of listening to other people. I learned so much, and became a better person for it.

It is a plus for an emotionally literate person, however.

If you are emotionally illiterate, it becomes a burden. It is like walking with numb feet. You will stumble and you do not understand what you do not feel. You have no clue what elements are missing within you because you don’t have in you.

So if you have no feel, you lack data. That is a crucial concept to understand: if you are missing emotionality, you misinterpret reality, and hence, your perceptions are misaligned with that reality. You have gaps, and hence whatever arguments you try to use, logic is not filler that can compensate for the lack of real and raw emotions. If you do not feel that you are feverish, you do not know that you are in danger. That’s what happened to the profession: all the signs of trouble were missed because of the lack of feel.

Journalists live in a dead profession, and it is dead because the key elements in their own souls are dead.

The end.

Which brings us to their fucked up and dysfunctional ideas about their “business model.”

They do not have one that is in any way aligned with reality. The old days where they held all the cards sailed far away from them, never to return.

The end.

Because they have no respect for their audiences, they do not want to have to hustle. They are forever scheming for easy and lazy solutions.

Such as “donations”: give us money!

Or begging the government: give us tax money!

Or being a mouthpiece to rich tycoons like Howard Hughes: give us lots of money!

Notice none of these models have them earning their money, or being among the people they are supposed to cover and inform.

And journalism — and its alternative — can never be legitimate through these sketchy methods. It will always be propaganda.

If you have an actual product, people will buy it and use it.

If I don’t buy a toothbrush and toothpaste, I will have rotten teeth. If I do not buy food, I will starve.

If I don’t get educated by learning to read, I will be at a disadvantage because I will be illiterate.

So journalism never had an excuse. They were just arrogant and lazy, nothing more.

And also lacking in any common sense.

If the government funds you, you are fake news.

If you get donations from many or one, you are fake news.

The end.

You are toxic waste polluting the information stream and pure manipulative garbage.

So then what is the model?

Simple: bootstrapping.

It is the only legitimate method that can work without compromise.



Because it is the method in tune with reality.

When I became a journalist, I did so to study it. Most people do not appreciate what that actually means.

It means that I walked among the subject I was studying. I was in the eye of the storm. I did everything that was part and parcel of being in the profession. I never had to guess or reconstruct reality. I lived that reality.

My survival depended on getting jobs in the profession. That was my pay check; so I knew exactly what the life of a typical journalist was because that was my life.

I did not have to make educated guesses or overthink anything. I knew the pressures of deadlines and demanding editors as well as difficult people I had to get to speak to me. I knew how people reacted to a reporter. I knew how reporters got educated and groomed.

But because I entered the profession with a plan, I could benefit from pre-hoc analysis, versus the inferior post-hoc.

When people get disillusioned, they may begin to study their old profession with certain filters, but it is not the same, nor can it ever be empirical: because they were never trained to see connections and facts, they miss too much, and then have to reconstruct memories that are tainted and compromised.

I never had that problem because I walked in with a plan from Day One — a very complex and complicated plan where I literally conducted hundreds of experiments.

And the fact that this epic fact keeps flying above everyone’s head is very funny and infuriating at the same time.

I am literally the only person in the world with my set of expertise and all I get is blank stares and pathetically ignorant reviews from ditzes who obviously do not comprehend a reality that veers from their rote scripts. Fuck them.

To add to my knowledge base, one of my beats was writing about —ta da! — the business of journalism.

Are you following me?

Here is someone studying journalism by becoming a journalist who is also using her job to research the business of journalism. Quaker sensibilities, kids: waste nothing.

So I can tell you how worthless and fucked up the model was — and the shameless cheating newspapers stooped to in order to try to hide from advertisers how badly their circulations were tanking. They started counting free newspapers into circulation — stacks of untouched newspapers were counted as part of readership.

And this was almost twenty years ago.

Bad, bad, bad rot.

And I covered it.

So here are a bunch of bad businesspeople looking to make money without having to actually earn it — and completely ignoring the fact that they were the ones who were responsible for the collapse.

They will entertain everything else except for bootstrapping. So the one thing that works is off the table. Nice try.

Bootstrapping forces you to use risk and emotional literacy to earn your keep.

You do not get investors, angel investors, crowdsourcing, funding rounds, bank loans, tax dollars, patrons, nada.

If you have ten bucks in your pocket, you start your business with ten bucks.

Yes, you have your work cut out for you, but that is the realistic and honest route.

You will not brag, no. You have nothing to brag about.

No, you will not get invited to swanky cocktail parties in the beginning because you cannot be exploited and used.

That’s the point. You know exactly where you stand with no fantasies or delusions. All those veils get torn off real fast.

So now you have to start thinking about real things, such as how are you going to start, how you will pay your bills, and you will need plans that will be constantly revised.

Advertising is expensive, and it is ineffective. The only thing that works is being useful, and word of mouth. That’s it.

I can talk about bootstrapping because that has been a model I have experimented with and used, even now.

And not just with writing, but also with art and teaching. What I had is what I used.

It is a slower process, but builds more than just a solid foundation: it makes you hyper-vigilant of your surroundings and reality as you deal directly with the public. I need no focus group or polls to tell you what is happening in the world.

I didn’t invent the concept, but I have always admired those who made it that way, and I have a deep respect for those who bypass the lazy path and understand its significance.

It forces you to go in the middle of a group of homeless people and speak to them, not at them, or past them. If forces you to go directly to powerful people and not slobber all over them or fall for their feints and ruses. They cannot fool you because you are trained to see their reality.

You feel the winds of change and can adapt. You focus with humility. You learn to bond with knowledge and with your work. You learn who your true friends are, and that is not a pessimistic revelation. For me, it was a happy surprise that the number was much bigger than what I had originally thought.

You meet new people, and often, they open your eyes as you open theirs. You learn the power of connecting to others and experiencing a life of movement, feedback, and cooperation.

It makes you see hard work is not shameful, but a blessing. You do not see bad times as obstacles, but as puzzles to solve.

You learn to innovate and improvise as you experiment and think about tomorrow.

And you owe no favours. No one owns you because you become one with the chaos of the infinite because you learn to let go of your fear.

And if you are unafraid of reality, you can see it and deal with it.

You can walk right into the eye of the storm and gain vision.

Journalism is blinded by its own deadness.

Chaser is going to go the bootstrapping way, but it is not my first foray into the method. The first professional publication I put out, I was in grade eleven. It was a literary journal showcasing the art, stories, and poetry of my fellow students. I did all of the work, negotiated the price with a printer, and sold it with a profit that I donated to my high school’s special needs class. It wasn’t a huge profit, but if a teenaged girl can do it, so can the self-entitled geezers who have media properties.

That was bootstrapping.

So was the original Chaser, as is A Dangerous Woman and this web site.

I admit I had bizarre setbacks in the last few years. God dropped the ball that directly fell on my head, where I ended up in a place below Hell where the devil decided right then and there to ambush me with a death match and played dirty, let me tell you.

Yeah, never mess with a Serbian woman from Hamilton. I am still a little stiff and sore from that bullshit story called 2018, but hey, I am alive, conscious, and coherent to write this, motherfuckers. Go me!


So, here is the thing: I don’t do rules, but I will do requests. I listen to feedback, just don’t be an uppity ass about it.

Sadly, I do typos. I think I have my Typo Queen Tiara I made for myself in some box somewhere. Even though I type fast, I just cannot write as fast as I think, and my thoughts do overcrowd me. I do correct things when I see them.

I am setting things up. I do plans, however. I do experiments.

I will have fun, but as a human fucking being, I do have emotions, and I do express them.

Loudly, proudly, and unequivocally. If you have problems with emotions, I will just tell you to go fuck yourself, you cowardly psychopath. That way, you can start to feel something yourself.

You may want to take note of that fact that I don’t have any flying fucks to give. I got rid of all of them in 2018 because they don’t actually have any use.

I will bootstrap. I will not be begging for money. I will not be telling you that you will end up in Hell unless you give me money because I am the Goddess Of All Democracy. Fuck that shit. As I get things going, I will tweak here and there. I will be useful. I will do research. I will talk about myself so that you get to know the person who is giving you information. Your perspective will be different than mine. Our life requirements will be different, but the facts I find will be verified, and I will talk about the process, not the same way as the original Chaser, however.

I will also cover stories that have meaning. I do not like when people are ignored, hurt, abused, or held back. I have deep reverence for altruists and idealists because we would all still be in caves shivering if it weren’t for the risk-taker who discovered fire and invented the wheel and then made the world more livable.

I am a bunny hugger. I adore cats. Animals should never be mistreated.

But neither should people.

So I am going back into the ring. I am not totally unpacked, but even though I bought a bunch of Ikea shelves (Laiva, if you want to know), I just ran out of shelf space, and need to buy at least two more as about ten books are due to come to me on top of the ones that I cannot place. I also have a nagging feeling there are a couple more boxes of books in the moving box out in the back. La la.

At least all my Blue Beetle comics and action figures have been liberated from the boxes and the action figures are guarding my books. My favourite Moschino scarf has been framed and is on the wall across from me while my Han Hoogerbrugge will have to be hung in my bedroom as I seem to be the only person to appreciate it. The Hives are playing in this house, and I finally found my bust of William Shakespeare and statues of Hawkwoman and Catwoman. Some things about Alexandra Kitty don’t change, although my repertoire now includes Alexander Kastulin pottery.

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So I am getting prepared as I just need to lace up my boxing boots and begin…


The Chaser Solution: Chapter Three: Emotionality is not irrationality, but the lack of emotions is a mental defect.

Sadly, this reviewer doesn’t get my latest book. Too lazy or just plain too stupid to read the hundreds of sources in the back, the reviewer is a moron who is uncomfortable with rage.

The problem with journalism is that it is not just a dead profession, but an emotionally dead profession. When a emotionally and intellectually stunted person doesn’t get why Trump’s victory spelled the end for the global profession of journalism, then you know this is not someone mature enough to see reality.

So, Gabriela Perdomo, if you lack the insight to know why Trump’s victory had international implications for every country other than America — and I am Canadian, not an American, here is a clue:

Because the strongest and most profitable place of modern journalism is the US. These are the journalists who sparked wars in countries not the US.

So far with me, Gabriela Perdomo?

Both Gulf Wars were sanctioned by journalists in the US. The bombing of Serbs was demanded by US journalists.

They determined elections. They demanded laws that went on the books. They toppled leaders of other nations, even if their native press did not. Billionaires lost their businesses and were sent to jail after US journalists targeted them as well as A-list actors who found themselves embroiled in scandal.

Gabriela Perdomo, I want you to take a good look at this picture:


That is all that it took to sink his chances of becoming US President.

But American reporters could have done that to any political candidate anywhere in the world. Your country. My country.

PR firms know this — something else you do not seem to get upset over or understand its implications, meaning you are unqualified to write a review about the problems of journalism.

If you do not understand FARA or its significance, you are not experienced enough to write a review, and I find that troubling, and makes me question Les Cahiers du journalisme completely. It is not a serious or legitimate publication.

Now do you understand a little more, Gabriela Perdomo?


I didn’t think so. You seem to believe all countries are equal, but they are not. I live next to the giant that created modern journalism and can compare it to the pathetic version in my own country. I worked for both. You don’t seem to have a clue to what happens here; so let me bring you to November 2016.

When Hillary Clinton was running, she was the “sure thing” to be president, running against a man with no political experience, and was known as a tabloid fixture and a reality show star.

All but three newspapers in the US back Clinton, and one was the National Enquirer. The coverage was rigged against Trump who was seen as a joke.

All he had was a Twitter account, and he won.

Gary Hart had one damning photograph. Trump had a whole life of spice.

And he won.


If the US news media can no longer control how the masses think in their own nation, they lose control over international events as well.

And look at France and all of its troubles. It is a country spiralling out of control. Where is your media?

Look at Germany’s Der Spiegel scandal.

Do you think Germans will forget that their biggest property lied to them repeatedly? That they were fooled, and the sure thing was flawed?

Never. The spell gets broken. Like a disease, when the strongest collapses, the weaker ones do not stand a chance.

I did my research, Gabriela Perdomo. I did not just look at the US, but took a sample of countries from every continent — and they were in worse shape than the US — but also their model of journalism was the same or worse than the US.

No one will give one flying fuck about the journalism in those countries you mentioned because their ability to spread propaganda is nowhere in the ball park of the damage the US press has done over the decades.

You seem to be quite provincial and near-sighted. It is unfortunate you lack the mindset to get how serious the collapse of journalism is globally.

And do you think you are intellectually superior because you seem to lack appropriate affect to a global collapse of an entire industry — or are you in denial of reality?

Which one?

I would love to hear from you, and assess your mindset because you don’t seem to be paying attention to the fact that there has been a death of a profession, and replaced with propaganda.

I have covered the French press on this website numerous, and it is in far worse shape. It is an oblivious press that is missing a key intellectual and emotional element. It explains why France exploded as badly as it did: people are starved for something that is in tune with reality.

If you are not angry at what has happened, you are not being rational. It is not a normal response to be blinded by the lack of real data and just be laissez-faire about the whole thing.

In your neighbourhood, how many starving children are there?

How many children are forced into prostitution and child pornography?

How many women got raped this year?

How many mafias and gangs are getting away with human trafficking?

How many terrorists are plotting to destroy you?

I bet you have no idea because your local media doesn’t tell you.

Does your local politicians take bribes? From who? How much?

The food you eat — how healthy is it? Are you shoving deadstock in your mouth?

The jewelry you wear — how much lead or cadmium is rubbing against your skin?

You have no clue, and you are unemotional about it?

Do you know how much psychiatric medication pollutes the water you drink?

It’s a lot.

I bet you didn’t know that.

I bet there are a lot of things that you do not know.

I do.

That is why I channel my emotionality to constructive purposes while you do not.

You live in a void vortex. You will die in one, too, spinning on the hamster wheel feeling nothing.

And when you feel nothing, you cannot detect when disaster is coming.

It is the reason journalism collapsed: they stopped feeling, and stopped caring, and then their instincts disappeared, and they never even knew why they were numb, not caring about their world, disconnecting to their audiences they looked down on because they still have emotions that they could no longer understand.

I will still be that woman who roars.

Does that intimidate you, Gabriela Perdomo?

That a woman can roar, while you can only whisper whatever authority tell you is acceptable?

I will continue to roar on this web site, and every book I write.

You will know a human being who cares and loves — and thinks critically cares enough about her world, even after she is long gone.

And who will remember the woman who whispers from another’s script?

My heart and my mind work as one and as the Infinite. I make no apologies for it. Fuck you.

And I roar when people do not use either their heart or mind as they muddle through life…