Narco-subs, Terror-drones, and the Coming Drone Curtain

Israel has accused Iran of launching a drone from Hezbollah-controlled territory. As I predicted months ago, it was only a matter of time until the Iranians would progress on the RQ-170 Sentinel that was accidentally gifted to them last year; and that progress will continue. Whether the Iranians were truly trying to assassinate Netanyahu or just sending a message to the world remains to be seen. However, we can be sure that the Israelis are not actually concerned about Iranian nuclear development; the nuclear bomb is just a red herring. The real danger lies in Iran developing a stealth drone as tiny and capable as the Sentinel.

Let's face the facts, the prospect of Iran launching a nuclear missile at Israel and hitting a city is extremely unlikely. Even if Iran gets the bomb, it doesn't mean that suddenly they can blow up Israel; large rockets are vulnerable, almost-obsolete technology. The prospect of a nuclear bomb being shipped by conventional transportation methods is also unlikely, since Iran's current nuclear capabilities make it more than able to deploy a catastrophe-inducing "dirty" bomb. In this age of stealth, nuclear weapons leave too much of a trace and are too cumbersome to deploy.

 

Iran's real power comes from its future drones, and their capability to take out airplanes and possibly deploy chemical weapons. Once Iran begins mass producing its own version of the RQ-170 Sentinel, the price of a small drone -- hard to detect by radar -- will drop to almost nothing. Almost nothing to certain groups and individuals, that is.

 

The cartels in Central America are paying close attention to developments in the drone arena because they hold the potential for risk-free international transportation. I met a guy in a coffee shop here in Amsterdam who did time in Colombia with a guy who was caught building a narco-sub. Narco-subs are small, hard-to-detect, and cost a meager 3 million dollars. A two man crew operating a narco-sub can rake 150 million. Narco-subs are the safest bet for anyone who has the money, and according to my source there was often a North Korean guy working with his friend in prison.

 

The North Koreans have developed a good relationship with some friends in Colombia, and have been building up their reserve of Benjamins by selling their submarine technology. But, as with many things North Korea, obsolescence is around the corner. Narco-subs work great for the cartels, but they still require a two-man crew and individuals with mouths means liability; drones are the future, and a self-destruct bomb can make them untraceable.

 

At current development rates, a drone of comparable capabilities to the RQ-171 will be in the same price range of a narco-sub within a few years. Our leaders are pressing for 100% surveillance of the border, and with good reason. There is no stopping technological progress, so it is only a matter of time until anyone with a few million dollars and an imaginative mind decides to use drones to ferry not only kilos of cocaine, but perhaps vials of chemical weapons. The drones won't carry people -- you'll still need good ole' subs for that. And exactly because of the people that are being shipped into the United States by tiny subs does the US government want to register every undocumented immigrant. America has been infiltrated by its enemies; there are sleeper cells everywhere. The crackdown that we saw in Boston may just be the first of many across the United States should the US go to war with Iran. The drone curtain is already being raised and though it will keep out bad guys, the Constitution will be blanketed in the process.

 

 

America 2013: Everyday Ballistics

In the wake of the Sandy Hook massacre, waves of parents have started purchasing bulletproof backpacks for their children. But of course, not only children are carrying around these backpacks. And not only are backpacks being made bulletproof. Blackboards have been made ballistic, and some school districts already employ heavy-duty doors.

 

People really want to protect their children, and my company, Everyday Ballistics, seeks to ensure that your children are kept safe. Though Everyday Ballistics plans to sell backpacks in the future, this coming fall we will concentrate on children's jackets. Our jackets will not only look like any other children's jackets, they will also come with an iPad holder in the chest area.

 

Our especially constructed Kevlar composite iPad cover provides level III tactical protection for the most vital areas in the chest.

 

Furthermore, the iPad cover is durable, resilient, and waterproof. Our iPad cover and jacket will ensure that not only are you kept safe from the treasonous winds of winter, but also from the treachery of a friend or foe's bullet. Jacket and cover are made of vegan materials.

The Revenge of Obama

It's becoming more clear and clear that Obama needed to get Hillary Clinton out of the picture. In Hillary he had a potential adversary for 2012, as well as a woman who had insulted him. I remember someone at Yale telling me: "That's it, that's the knife, she just stabbed him. He won't recover!"

But of course, he did, and somehow decided to tap Hillary to be his secretary of state. In Obama we see a man who is willing to patiently wait before he takes out his prey. He is the most dangerous type of hunter because he cast the shadow of a farmer and doesn't fire the arrow until he has toyed and come to know his deer, to let the deer gain his trust, so that when the arrow pierces the flesh he can enjoy in its eyes not only pain, but also the feeling of betrayal.

 

Hillary will have to live the rest of her life knowing that Obama set her up to take the blame for the attacks in Benghazi. The 46 page congressional report on the Benghazi attack lays out the fact that Obama placed Hillary in the line of fire.

 

Lt. Colonel Andrew Wood complained after noticing that the Red Cross and all other groups had withdrawn from Benghazi. He complained that the compound in Benghazi was "the last flag," and the only remaining target in a very hostile area. The US government employed the February 17th brigade, a revolutionary Lybian group with suspected extremist ties, to guard the compound. On September 8th, the February 17th brigade withdraw its support for the compound.

 

For many months before September 11, 2012, requests had been made to the state department -- beyond Lt. Col. Wood's cries. Undersecretary Kennedy mandated that 5 diplomatic security agents be on board at all times. Yet, there were often only three, and sometimes only one.

 

The US military is subdivided into regional commands. AFRICOM did not respond because it did not have a fast-response marine team. Instead, EUCOM was tasked with responding to the crisis in North Africa. Conveniently, the main European team was conducting a training mission in Croatia... truly... on 9/11.

 

And of course, the FBI conducted the investigation instead of an intelligence agency as is regularly done. The fact that the FBI carried out the investigation meant that access to key witnesses and resources was limited, thus hindering progress.

 

Obama doesn't care about re-election anymore, but he knows that Hillary is unelectable. The congressional report on Benghazi lays out the fact that the Obama administration lied about the September 11 attacks. Had the 46 page report published by the Republican-controlled house been published by an independent media service, it would have been vilified as an elaborate conspiracy theory. In this instance, it is being decried as a partisan witch-hunt, but the facts speak for themselves. Someone at the top ordered a shutdown, and Hillary was kept out of the loop.

 

Memories of a Lost Friend

I still can't get over the fact that all 12 of my little cousins are on facebook. They've grown up on the stuff, and so have most of their friends. I never really thought about it until a fleeting thought crossed my mind over dinner tonight. My girlfriend made this delicious Thai curry and the colors were mostly greens and browns.

Perhaps it was the smell or the colors, but I remembered a friend from 4^th grade that I may never find again. He had a green eye and a brown eye. I remember envying him, because the girls thought it was cool that he had a green and a brown eye. He told me that one eye turned green after he accidentally stabbed himself with a knife. At least that was the story he told, and I have no reason to doubt it. His name was Felix, but I forget whether that was his first or last name.

For a time, we were inseparable and caused more mischief than I can imagine. We had both just arrived in the Bronx from the same area in the Dominican Republic, and publicly pretended to have gone to school together back home. The ruse was so elaborate, that even my father and his aunt believed that we knew each other before the Bronx. It was an easy ruse to uncover, but I lived alone with my dad and he alone with his aunt, and they were overworked and detached. We basically left school at 3pm and just started wandering the Bronx. We once hopped the turnstile so we could take the 4 train to Woodlawn, the last avenue. We wanted to see how the train turned around, and were shocked to discover that it could travel forward and backward. In my infantile mind I imagined that the train turned around in a long loop.

We did lots of stuff like that simply because we were 9, spoke Spanish, and had an almost free rein in the city. If I were even to begin thinking about all the mayhem we caused in the Bronx, it would probably fill a book, but one particular day sticks out in my mind.

Our go-to tool of social mayhem was public payphones. It's crazy to believe that there was a payphone next to my building back in the 1996, and that we used it to call the police. So, we leave school on Walton avenue and on the way to my apartment Felix picks up the phone and dials 911. As soon as a middle-aged, African-American lady answers, “911, what's the emergency?” I shout: “HELP! POLICE! I need someone to suck my dick!”

The lady answered in a-to-this-day recognizable voice: “Well, we'll send someone to help you!” And she hung up on me. Felix and I started laughing and decide to hit the payphone on his street. We walk 15 minutes and pick up the next payphone: “Hello, yea, someone just got shot, he's bleeding out in the middle of the street.”

The operator answers: “is anyone helping him out?”

Felix responds: “yea, my friend is giving him mouth-to-mouth right now.”

The operator sounded skeptical but we sit around waiting and 15 minutes later an ambulance drives by slowly, asking a bunch of guys if they'd seen anything. Had it been a real call, the dude shot would have died waiting for the ambulance. It was a lesson in taking a cab to the nearest hospital if you could. Which is what happened a couple of years later when I saw a guy get stabbed outside of S & A store by my house. In that instance, no one called the police, and had an ambulance passed by, everyone would have proclaimed to know nothing of a stabbing. Yea, so the ambulance driver probably couldn't really know if someone got shot and then just took a cab somewhere else. So was the Bronx, but I digress.

So the ambulance drives away and we snicker. Then I start telling Felix about an unrequited love of mine in our class. I had a crush on Liona, but I was the bad boy in class so her parents probably told her to stay away from me, and with good reason. Naturally, I was outraged and decided to pull a prank on her so she'd like me more. Felix and I walked back to my place, and in a moment of genius, I decided to put a plastic bag inside of the toilet. I wrapped it carefully around the seat so I could sit and comfortably defecate into the bag. After defecating into the bottom of the bag, I unwrapped it from the toilet seat and now had an innocent-looking supermarket bag full of Trix-layered feces.

We walked out of my house, to Liona's house about 6 blocks away with bag in hand, and then once we got to her doorstep, I very gently emptied the bag out, releasing my gift at her door. Some time later in school I somehow managed to discreetly ask her about it, and she said that they thought it was a homeless guy and that they'd made the super[interdent] clean it up. She never suspected it was me and will find out only now after reading this.

They both moved cities before the year was over, and I lost track of them. Liona friended me about a year ago. I'm happy to learn that she's married with kids, hopefully not as bad as me ;)

As for Felix, I just can't seem to find him or anyone who knows him. Maybe this article will help me find him. My little cousins really won't have that issue, and will probably keep in touch with people they met throughout their childhood. Some might say it's a bad thing, but parents moving around caused millions of children to forever lose track of their friends. I for one think we can be nostalgic about pre-internet times, but the world is a better place when we all keep track of each other.

420 in Amsterdam

There were no rap-style gun battles at Amsterdam's 420 outdoor event, but I must admit that I did glance paranoically at random strangers' bags. Whether that paranoia had anything to do with the events in Boston or the activities surrounding 420, I can't say for sure, but I must admit that it involved a little of both. Though Colorado's 420 event was in many ways a celebration of freedom, Amsterdam's was a call for activism.

 

There are many ways in which the Dutch enjoy more freedoms than the average American, but when it comes to marijuana legislation, the Dutch have fallen behind in terms of how forward their policies are. While some states have legalized the cultivation of cannabis, it still remains illegal in the Netherlands. Citizens are allowed to grow 5 plants for personal consumption, but of course demand far exceeds what can be produced legally.

 

The individuals speaking outside of Amsterdam's city hall were calling for an end to the cannabis backdoor. When you buy marijuana in an Amsterdam coffeeshop, you have no guarantee of quality. The coffeeshop is essentially buying the cannabis under the table based on a trust system. This quirk in Dutch law means that the society is basically structured towards creating criminal enterprises. Naturally, gangs that engage in the wholesale cultivation of cannabis often have the discrete talents necessary for other "enterprises." 

 

The activists protesting outside city hall in Amsterdam were calling for regulation; they want to smoke a quality product with a guarantee, in the same way that many of their American counterparts now can. It could be argued that the Netherlands' very low cannabis usage is indicative of the success of its drug laws, and perhaps that is why the Dutch public has not made much of an effort to reform its by-now outdated policies. One of the speakers on stage was a German living near the border.

 

Anonymous Toker
 

"Preventing foreigners from being able to enter coffeeshops is discrimination and is antithesis to a free, united Europe!" he loudly proclaimed to much fanfare and smoke. The past year saw attempts by the Dutch government to prevent foreigners from being able to enter coffeeshops. The government partly succeeded, and coffeeshops in the South of the country are closed off to foreigners.

 

However, the uptick on street dealing and outdoor criminality convinced many people that giving cities the choice to ban foreigners was better than a nation-wide ban. It was a partial victory which ensured that Amsterdam remained a smoker's haven. Nonetheless, further legislation was promoted in attempts to limit the amount of THC -- the main psychoactive substance in cannabis -- to 15%. One coffeeshop owner cried out: "The government doesn't tell you how big your whisky glass can be. You're supposed to know that you can't drink whisky in a beer glass. It's common sense. Who's the government to tell us that we don't have common sense? When hard liquor is more destructive. We don't have any interactions with the police on a typical weekend; people come to coffeeshops from all over the world and interact on the same level. Bars, on the other hand, often have to deal with the police after brawls and other incidents."

 

I agreed with everything he was saying up until he proclaimed that hard liquor didn't belong in a beer glass. After he was done speaking, I went on stage to tell the crowd that whisky could indeed be placed inside of a beer glass, but the cameraman next to me told me that the "Amsterdammers voor whiskey en bierglas" rally was due to take place the following week.

The crowd was estimated to be just under one thousand, far lower than Colorado's 80,000 -- it  still remains to be seen if 420 will become as popular here as it has in the US, but this year's rally was much bigger than the last. 

 

There were two female police officers behind the crowd, and most likely one or two undercover. There were no incidents reported beyond long pizza line queues.

A Message to Putin, from Washington

The United States sent troops to Jordan this week. It is now pretty clear that they will be carrying out operations in Syria. Though officially the United States is sending 200 troops, the number of spies and contractors promises to be far higher; as many as 2,500. Standing between Washington and President Bashar Al-Assad's neck is Iran, its major backer. This of course will make the operation of eliminating Assad more difficult, but it also makes it more attractive. Taking out Assad would mean cutting off Iran's lifeline to Hezbollah. A weaker Iran, a weaker Hezbollah, and a destabilized Syria (no challenge for Golan Heights oil) are highly attractive notions to Israel, as well as US oil interests.

 

Were it only Iran and Hezbollah standing between Washington and Syria's Assad, he would have been dealt with as swiftly as Gadhaffi was with a no-fly zone and NATO bombardments. But Syria houses a Russian naval base and thus eliminating Assad means that Russia needs to be persuaded to relinquish support. Russia is a strong country, but Chechnya is its weak spot. An old Russian friend of mine told me that he heard some chatter around a certain wall in Moscow, and that it concerned the Chechen identity of the Boston bombers.

 

According to my friend in Moscow, Russian services believe that the Tsarnaev brothers were double-crossed. A drill was being conducted during the Boston bombings. Members of the Craft (Blackwater/Xe's cousin) were spotted near the blast-zone and carrying similar backpacks. The Tsarnaev brothers were part of the drill, and most likely had dropped harmless backpacks in previous drills, leading them to believe that this time would be no different. Members of the Craft confirm that the backpacks are in place; they themselves are not aware of live explosives. Craft agents serve another purpose beyond confirming the drop, they are to act in case a third party spots the drop and jeopardizes the bags. Craft agents were told that it was a radiation drill similar to the one conducted by VIPR squads on the metro. The Tsarnaev brothers drop what they believe are inert bags, Craft employees confirm that it has been placed according to protocol, Craft employees clear the area, and the bomb is detonated by the director, the only person who knows the whole play.

 

The director pretends to act as shocked as the drill participants. The Tsarnaev brothers are led away and trailed until they can be conveniently eliminated in the dark by special teams, and to much national fanfare and cheering. America displays how well it can handle martial law and, most importantly, becomes aware of the Chechen threat.

 

The Kremlin sanctioned American officials for torture in retaliation to the US sanctioning Russian officials for the death of a lawyer not too long ago. Also not too long ago, Russia Today started airing segments that came short of accusing the US of carrying out the September 11 attacks.

 

The play in Boston has not been fully revealed, but the Kremlin is paying close attention because they know that their weak spot has now been made a cause for panic to the US public. So, Washington has delivered a message to Putin: relinquish Syria or we will destabilize Chechnya. The Kremlin will likely not comply, but the US needs a weak Russia anyway.

Update: It has been reported that the individuals pictured may be National Guard Civil Support Team.

 

The Terrorist Blame Game

One tweet from Russia Today, another from a friend of Tripathi, a few local TV channels, and I was led to believe that a missing Brown University student was the suspect in the Boston marathon bombing. The entire media establishment should be apologizing to the Tripathi family, but he was just one of many named by the media. Indeed, not too long ago, one of Abreu report's readers asked me to write about her experience with the US legal and media system.

 

She was accused of domestic violence by a vengeful lover and the next morning her mug shot was splashed across the newspaper. The emotional pain and difficulty that it brought for her almost ruined her life. She was eventually acquitted, but there was no front-page article on the local newspaper with her picture and the word "innocent" splashed on top. The damage, as they say, was already done, and she had to deal with the difficulty of people fearing her on a daily basis.

 

The NY Post was first criticized by posting a picture of a teenager with the words "bag men" on top. Abreu Report is a small, independent news site, so we don't have the resources of the NY Post to investigate leads. However, the teenager in this photo was never fingered by anyone beyond 4chan and r/Conspiracy. Also, the use of "bag men" is a lawyer term, making it difficult for anyone to say that the NY Post directly accused anyone of being a suspect simply to gain a few thousand page views. 

 

However, don't think for a minute that the mainstream media simply decided to finger everyone with a bag. The fingering has been very selective, and one could almost argue that the outrage was meant to make it difficult for anyone to finger other persons of interest at the Boston crime scene. Particularly interesting are these two individuals:

We still don't know exactly who they are, and what they were doing at the Boston marathon. But of course, the public doesn't need to know who these two guys are because they are not suspects and we wouldn't want to bother innocent people. The mainstream media bothers innocent people all the time, but not these two. At the very least, the public deserves to know whether these guys were private military contractors. And if so, what were they doing at the Boston Marathon?

 

Some news outlets are reporting that they are members of the Craft, a Blackwater-like group, and that they were carrying radiation detectors. So, if they were the good guys, it should be fairly straightforward for them to come forward and give their side of the story in the same way that the NY Post made that 17-year-old kid come out and give his side of the story.

The Ivy League Terrorist (that almost was)

A missing Brown University student has been named as one of the suspects in the Boston bombing. Like many of the Yale students with whom I interacted on a daily basis, Tripathi seems to have a fondness for the Marxist guerrilla Che Guevarra. Guevarra persecuted homosexuals and executed people, yet a lot of liberal ivy leaguers seem to have taken a liking to his likeness. It is quite possible that Tripathi sees himself as some sort of guerrilla fighting an oppressive government. However, he is not a terrorist because he did not cause damages over 5 million dollars during the Boston bombing. Only attacks over 5 million dollars qualify as terrorist attacks.

Nope, Tripathi will not be labeled as a terrorist by the treasury department until he causes a few more million dollars worth of damage. Human limbs are not priced into the 5 million dollar requirement for an attack to be labeled as terrorist in nature. There will be cries of double standard regarding the label, but it is merely an economic decision. 

It is hard to say how Tripathi's background will change society, but it promises to increase paranoia at already touchy campuses to an extreme not seen since 9/11. The effect on the US college population promises to be greater than 9/11 because the perpetrator was not some hard-to-relate-to bogeyman, but rather one of their own. College campuses are prime ground for dissent against government policy, and I'm certain that Tripathi has now ensured that college campuses around the country will remain on edge, and fully subservient to the war on terror and its associated fears.

The CISPA act, which will give the government far greater access to the internet, has now passed the House. College students, digital natives as they are, have not been seen out protesting against greater government control of the internet. The fact that a man as dangerous as Tripathi could live amidst the elite and not be detected is only going to ensure that more people demand government snooping of internet activities. CISPA will likely pass the Senate, and although Obama's aides have said that they will encourage him to veto the legislation, I fear he will not. After all, he threatened to veto the NDAA act which gave him the power to indefinitely detain anyone suspected of terrorism. Now that we are in the middle of an attack against the Homeland, how could he possibly veto a bill that can keep the Homeland safe? The public will demand that he sign the law, and he will grudgingly do so to keep us safe.

Gun control was defeated, but cybersnooping won, and our freedoms will suffer as a result.

Update: Tripathi is no longer a suspect. Nonetheless, one of the suspects is a college student and new American.

From Waco to Jordan

The minute I heard that a massive explosion had taken place near Waco, Texas, I said, “again?” This month is proving to be deadly, and indeed it has for a long time. Certain news sources are reporting that there is a likelihood that the blast that leveled West, Texas was criminal. I say it's more than criminal; it's symbolic.

In 1993, the federal government raided a compound in Waco, Texas in a show of force that resulted in 76 dead men, women, and children. The Waco siege for many anti-federal groups is as compelling a reason to rebel as the Boston massacre was for the early American colonists. So, when I heard Waco and explosion, I immediately saw it as revenge by some right-wing group. At this moment, we can only hope that this terrible tragedy was an accident, because if it was indeed a terrorist attack, America's lot will quickly change for the worse.

In the gory reporting of the Boston marathon bombing and the West, Texas explosion, few people are even aware that the Pentagon has sent 200 troops to Jordan. Soon they will be fighting in Syria, and there is a possibility that as many as 20,000 may join the fight. Though the war on terror was supposed to wind down in 2014 with America's withdrawal from Afghanistan, it now appears that war will continue well past the year 2014.

For several months, I have been hearing in the conspiracy blogosphere about a chemical attack to be staged by the government. If indeed this explosion in West, Texas was criminal, the government will clamp down on civil liberties. We are at a very dangerous crossroad in America not because explosions are taking place, but rather because people no longer believe the government when they place blame. Disinformation is the oldest strategy in war, and soon we may be at war with ourselves. Disinformation will reign supreme.

I wish I could say that there is some magic way that I can stop this from happening, but the reality is that Americans are eating chips and watching TV. Tyranny will be made into an entertaining TV show, and the masses will digest it favorably.

Gunpowder of Mass Destruction

Yep, gunpowder over a certain amount may soon be classified as a weapon of mass destruction. People who have stockpiled ammunition should right now consider themselves persons of interest in this continuing war on terror. The revelation that the Obama administration would charge a US citizen with "conspiring to use a weapon of mass destruction" after firing an RPG on foreign soil, against an enemy of the United States, means that a pressure cooker full of gunpowder on US soil also qualifies as a weapon of mass destruction.

 

This attack in Boston has bigger political implications than are immediately visible. Should there soon be a massive drive to restrict gunpowder – and therefore bullets – more and more pro-2^nd amendment Americans will see a nefarious hand of government. The motive for the attacks has not been released, but it is obviously intended to provide the government with a reason to restrict the gunpowder supply.

 

At this point, the “conspiracy theorists” – who increasingly make up a larger percentage of the American population – are suspecting that government had a hand in the Boston marathon bombing. If it is not the government, it is very clearly a group or individual wanting to make it seem as if the Obama administration will stop at nothing in its quest to strip the American people of their gun rights. The fact that this terrorist attack has already planted the seed of doubt means that any future “guilty party” will be seen by many as a patsy.

 

Should this attack prove to be domestic, and should these attacks continue, America will become a full-blown police state at war with right-wing elements within its own population. As more men in combat fatigues descend upon America's streets, however, we should remember one of Benjamin Franklin's more famous quotes: “They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.”

Everyday Federal Criminal

When the Founders crafted the Constitution, they envisioned a state government that largely dealt with everyday affairs, and a federal government that for the most part dealt with interstate and international affairs, having little role in the life of the typical citizen going about his day. This is no longer the case in the United States, for the federal government increasingly seeks to encroach upon the daily life of each and every one of its citizens.

Buying a pair of scissors made in one state and riding the highway means that whatever offense you are about to commit is no longer a state offense, but rather a federal one. 95% of federal cases result in either a conviction or a plea bargain, and the supreme court is unlikely to hear appeals, thus making federal charges the most guaranteed way that a person is going to prison with little recourse of a local jury. Though the recent case involving Amish cutting the beards of others might seem comical, the legal implications represent a tremendous overreach by the Obama administration, and are very blatantly a test case for the future.

The Obama administration is now basically saying that should a person do anything more than put a hand on another, they could face federal charges. I can envision a scenario where the federal government could pile on charges even if no out-of-state scissors/logs of wood/vases/shoes, etc. were used to commit the crime, even if no highway was ridden before the crime, even if no plane was taken before the crime, even if no TSA-protected train was taken, and even if no letters were sent. Perhaps you dreamt about crossing state lines.

The new logic of the Eric Holder justice department is rather interesting, to say the least. By the same logic, a shooting committed against a typical citizen is a federal crime because most guns and bullets contain interstate components. Every shooting or stabbing in America could potentially be treated as a federal crime. The only crimes mentioned in the constitution are treason, piracy on the high seas, and counterfeiting. If the constitution were rewritten tomorrow, however, the only non-federal crime you could commit against a non-government representative would be attacking them with your fists within the confines of your home for reasons not related to their gender identity, race, or etc.

But, most interesting, perhaps throwing a shoe made in China at a US government official constitutes an international crime in The New America.

The Dominican Fingerprint Doctor

Back in the Bronx I had this Korean neighbor that liked smoking in the back of a taxi as it cruised around town in random loops. I had just finished my fall semester of junior year at Yale and thus needed some adventure to overcome the stress. I knocked on Pyeong-taek's door and told him that we needed to get on the grind, that this whole watching the ball drop on TV thing wasn't gonna fly. So, we started making phone calls and visiting people we knew who could help us find cigars.

Everyone was either closed or out of stock, so we decided that we needed to drive to the Dominican Republic Washington Heights. We took a taxi and got off at 181^st and Amsterdam and started looking for the nearest available entrepreneur on that cold NY night, just 1 hour before New Year's. It's hard to describe NY to someone who hasn't been there, to describe that feeling of walking down a wide and impossibly straight street by yourself; it's like the whole world has abandoned you.

You don't get that feeling in a city with small streets and low buildings. Somehow, Washington Heights feels small. There's music blasting from everywhere and you can feel the people, especially when you pass by the space between a twin, 5 story brick-stone building – the kind that most litters the Bronx and Washington Heights. It is exactly in those spaces between buildings that most of the interesting transactions in New York tend to take place.

We passed by about 10 twins before we encountered one where there was a guy listening to some reggaeton from a ghettoblaster all by himself. I couldn't let Korean boy go and buy the cigars because they could turn out to be overpriced for him. A few dimelos and que lo que laters and Pyeong-taek and I were back on the street trying to hail a taxi.

We walked down Juan Pablo Duarte boulevard, hailing cab after cab and being turned down once we asked if we could smoke in the back seat. The 6^th cab was our lucky one, and after negotiating to pay 130 dollars to get sped around Manhattan with the back windows slightly down and while blazing, the cab driver soon became our new best friend.

 

“Can you please lower the window a bit more, the cab isn't mine, and I don't want the owner to smell it,” he asked politely as he flew down and drove around around Central Park. 1/3 of the way down wasn't enough, but fortunately the black Lincoln town car had good heating and the cold wind hitting my face made the cigar feel even better.

I hadn't smoked in months, so my head was spinning faster than the taxi. The buildings all just came together, my body was warm inside the Lincoln, my face was getting a cold rush, and I had no sense of time or direction; I was in heaven.

“So, you see a lot of crazy shit?” I asked the driver. His first words were, “mire, primo...” which meant that he already trusted me; I think because Pyeong-taek and I were welcoming the new year by celebrating Bob Marley's habit. The deep breath he took and the way he said primo – cousin – meant that he was about to tell me every detail of his life. That's the thing about Dominicans, they tell everything to strangers; it's one of our cultural quirks.

“Primo, I came to the US when I was 1 and did everything by the book, never got into trouble until I got into a barfight at 21, just before graduating college. I could swear that the dude just came at me out of nowhere, but he was an off-duty cop, so all the shit just piled on me. I heard that he got discharged off the force some years ago for excessive use of force, but by then it was too late and the story I am about to tell you had already taken place. You see, I got deported after getting into that fight. But the Dominican Republic to me was a strange land. I always went down on vacation, but I'd never lived there; Manhattan is the only place I know. I needed to get back, so I convinced my mom to pawn all her gold rings and chains. She sent me 12,000 dollars in total, and told me to get back however I could. I went to a doctor, he grew up with a cousin [everone is related in the Dominican], and he charged me 5,000 dollars to cut each and every one of my fingers.” He turned the lights on above the compartment and showed me the small, almost imperceptible cuts across the top part of each finger. He continued: “So I got a new identity, but since I came back, my whole life feels fake, and I sometimes want to end it.”

We drove quietly into a corner of 2^nd avenue, and I said: “Holy shit, dude, you need this hit more than me. And, oh yea, happy new year!”

Why Kim Jong-Eun Needs Japan

In simple terms, Koreans were slaves to the Japanese in the decades preceding the second world war. Though Kim Jong-Eun had a Japanese chef – and welcomed him back even after he left Korea for Japan – most North Koreans have never seen a Japanese person and often use the word “wicked” to describe their former slave masters.

The thing that Kim needs most is: an attack from Japan. In accordance with its status as a US vassal state, the Japanese have asked American forces for permission in shooting down North Korea's rocket. I don't see either side backing down, so it is possible that Japan may shoot down the North's rocket, thus igniting a mass of hate behind Kim Jong-Eun. This is not a conflict that can be measured in military prowess, but rather in racial hatred and history.

Make no mistake about it: North Korea is a religious cult willing to train suicide bombers. From 2003-2010, there were but a mere 1,003 suicide bombings in Iraq. How many suicide bombers does the North have? They have been studying Al-Qaeda's tactics and are far more numerous and capable. An enemy that is willing to die cannot be defeated, and religions cannot be destroyed by force; they are very often made stronger in the face of outside pressure.

The next few hours will determine if the United States is willing to stomach another prolonged guerrilla war against a religiously-blinded adversary in a far-off land.

The Death of a Gambler in Boracay

You could say that Boracay is to Koreans what Cancun is to Americans: a warm, well-priced tropical getaway. You don't get a lot of drunk college students on spring break; you get drunk teachers who need to escape the heat from Kim Jong-Eun. So I boarded a plane in Seoul, landed in Manila, then boarded another plane to Aklan island. In Aklan I took a long bus ride through lush scenery dotted by picturesque, simple homes. If anything, Aklan looked like the Dominican Republic, and I felt as if I was back in the Caribbean; I half-expected a hurricane to just out of nowhere ruin the merengue party.

But unlike the Caribbean, the Philippines has a rainy season. Sure, I shoulda done my homework and checked to see whether two weeks in a small island during the rainy season was the best idea, but in retrospect I'm glad that I went when a mass of foreigners weren't trying to enjoy the same patch of sand, partly because it forced me to interact with the locals instead of just other drunk teachers from Seoul. At least that's what I would like to tell myself. The truth is that even though it was rainy, and not so warm when it rained, there were drunks from Seoul seemingly following me around.

Even as I got off the bus in Aklan, I noticed two peculiar individuals. One looked like a typical American guy, the other like his bearded, emaciated, barefoot twin. We got off the bus at the harbor where we would board a boat to Boracay, and there he was: walking barefoot on jagged rocks on a strange island. We failed to get on the first boat because the tides were too high, so we had to get back on the bus. Most people around me were concerned about jumping on a boat during crazy weather, but I simply couldn't take my eyes off his feet. “How the hell does this white guy just walk on all these rocks without even glancing at the ground?”

The bus got to the next port and we very unsmoothly set sail to Boracay. The boat was compact and everyone was chatty and introducing each other, but I simply wanted to address the elephant in the room, so after staring at that guy I eventually said: “You know you look like Jesus, right!”

Jesus laughed, and said, “yea, I get that all the time.”

It was an ice breaker, and I eventually learned why he didn't wear shoes, but too much time has passed and I have forgotten. But I do remember that he was doing some hippy things in Thailand, and that he was an expert on magic mushrooms. His brother, on the other hand, was just another teacher like us, living in an industrial city and doing what all the foreigners in Seoul do: drink. Before we got off the boat, Jesus' brother and I had already made plans to drink together the next morning.

The next morning we ended up in a pool hall, and his brother stayed in bed. Jesus' brother and I had some Boracay coconut rum for breakfast, and I started telling him how concerned I was for Jesus.

“I wouldn't worry, he's been doing it for years. He walked barefoot around Manila and Bangkok without a problem. The only place where they gave him a problem was at the airport.”

I asked: “aren't you afraid that he's going to step on glass or a dirty needle and die?” Hell, the dude was frail and his frailty was further highlighted by his beard, which made his face seem all the more bony.

So, Jesus' brother and I began talking about death. I don't remember exactly what he told me, but I do remember that he made a joke about his brother outliving everyone due to some immunity that his feet would help him develop.

And with that joke, we began looking at the pool table next to us. A couple of guys were playing for 10,000 pesos and the game was down to just the 8 ball. 10 bystanders were sweating just watching, and the guy about to hit the cue was sweating enough for 10 men. He hunched over the pool table and as a he took the shot, Jesus walked in from behind. I noticed Jesus, and then I noticed the 8 ball come just shy of the hole. Everyone watched for a couple of seconds for the ball to fall into the hole, but it didn't, and the guy who took the shot collapsed right there in the pool hall of a heart attack.

The first person over the newly deceased was a man who looked like Jesus, and that was not lost on the other people there. I hear that the islanders in Boracay still talk about the time Jesus entered a pool hall and cleaned it out.

Sunday Morning Battle in Seoul

I was standing on the balcony of Old Town drinking some makgeolli and enjoying the sunrise. Old Town is located on Hooker Hill, so, yes, I was enjoying the sunrise. Too much time has passed and too many drinks have have also passed for me to remember exactly how I ended up drinking rice wine outside of a late-morning bar in the classiest part of Seoul – made classier by the US army base nearby – but what I do remember is the series of events that led to me getting roundhouse kicked in the head.

There are no public drinking laws in Korea, and bars never close, so Sunday morning at Old Town means that a lot of people have been drinking for 48-72 hours. I was one of those people, which is why I'm glad I didn't get taken in to testify by the police.

So, I'm sitting on the balcony and this nice Korean guy walks out and starts talking to me. Then he starts exchanging some words with this massive American soldier who was also on the balcony enjoying some soju. I was impressed at a seeing a white guy speaking Korean, and thought they would soon become best buddies, but the soldier started behaving like his doppelgänger Stone Cold Steve Austin. I feel like in the blink of an eye, Stone Cold just lost it and jumped at the skinny Korean guy. Stone Cold grabbed him by the shirt, just where it meets the neck, and started almost picking him up. “Did you call me a little dog?” he suddenly yelled, and then bang* everything just completely went blank after that.

Someone would later conflictingly tell me that I was kicked in the head by a wayward foot as the Korean guy was getting spun Fresh Prince-style, but when I came to all I remember is 10 cops around me; they were hauling away Stone Cold in handcuffs, and the Korean guy was nowhere to be seen. I saw a Filipino friend of mine on the corner of the balcony pouring coconut water from a bottle over his bloody hand; apparently he'd smashed a car window in the commotion.

“Yep, it is another Sunday morning on Hooker Hill,” said the friendly Nigerian bouncer as he helped me gather my footing.

“I've been to the police station 5 times this month, and I'll probably end up going a few more,” he told me.

I managed to find my makgeolli bottle and told him: “the price you pay for cheap makgeolli is an occasional blow to the head.”

The Summer of Our Discontent

In my previous article “The Enemy's Most Powerful Weapon,” I posted a video from Press TV – the Iranian news agency – reporting on the death of American writer Philip Marshall. Marshall allegedly murdered his family and committed suicide. However, Press TV advertised another reality, one in which Marshall didn't commit a heinous crime, but rather was the victim of a politically-motivated assassination. The politically-motivating reason according to Press TV? Marshall wrote a book accusing the Bush administration of complicity in the September 11 attacks.

The sanctioned belief in Iran seems to be that 9/11 was a false flag attack, and that secretive elements are willing to carry out assassinations in order to cover facts and punish muckrakers and troublemakers. As I wrote earlier, my friend in the Department of Homeland Security – let's call him Pablo – believes that Iran wants to further spread a version of events not supported by the 9/11 commission report. Pablo also mentioned Russia, and a few days afterwards, Russia Today – the Kremlin's main mouthpiece – produced a video also voicing support for a different interpretation of 9/11.

We recently saw how the new Chinese president visited Moscow for his first trip abroad, being received with horses and full honors. China and Russia have greatly strengthened their relationship, while both drift away from the US. Pablo tells me that soon the Chinese media may start to air the same version of events favored by Iran and Russia. Whether the Chinese actually start airing doubts about 9/11 or not, it's clear that they are undermining the US.

Recently, China and Australia decided to conduct transactions in their own currencies, thus threatening the dollar as the world's reserve currency. Russia has also begun to conduct transactions in rubles, and Iran has been dreaming of it for years. As more and more nations abandon the dollar in daily transactions, the dollar loses its throne as the world's main reserve currency. As America's dollar declines, so will more nations challenge its power and long-held narratives.

As Pablo informed me for my previous article, DHS suspects that Iran operates a cartel near the border. The Free Beacon reported on the 22^nd of March in further detail what Pablo had told me 18 days earlier. That there is also a strong Russian presence near the border, now I have no doubt; the Russian mafia is far more capable than the Iranians when it comes to doing what is attributed to Mexican cartels.

Are Russia, Iran, and China working together? If so, do they have a military, economic, and media strategy? A media war is much easier to wage than an armed conflict or economic war, and it seems that the 9/11 narrative will be in the front-lines of coming tensions between the East and the West. Whether most Americans would like to admit it or not, the story of 9/11 is one of the weakest in our historical narrative, and, as such, America's rivals will squeeze it. If the Obama administration doesn't open a independent investigation into 9/11, another country will; suspicion and doubt will tear away at our nation.