Pedovores will be delivered to justice. Every. Single. One.
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โถQ !!mG7VJxZNCI 01/11/19 (Fri) 00:19:34 467fd2 (1) No.4707080
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Q
Imagine being able to assume your neighbor's real life identity so convincingly that no one can tell. Do you think your community would continue to function if you could not tell a trusted friend from an enemy who's planning to harm you?
This IS the case on the internet right now. Anyone willing to go to the trouble to learn a bit of computer science and a byte of networking can easily impersonate anyone else. On the internet, one criminal can rob everyone by writing a program to automate repetitive tasks. There's more than one criminal on the internet. There are thousands, more every day because there almost no chance of being caught. Sophisticated criminal organizations offer tech support to new users and have automated "back ends" to process ransomware payments just like banks and credit card companies do. Organized criminal groups often partner with "rogue" nation states who effectively license them to steal - in return for a share of the profit.
What can we do? We can modify the internet to create a new sort of network that makes identity fundamental to network access. If you are not you, you don't get on the network at all.
Thou shalt not bear false witness," is an instruction not to tell untrue stories about others, as in do not commit perjury; it has other meanings we must consider.
If you are in the advertising and marketing business, you are bearing false witness by your endorsement of a product. Or if you are a marketer or PR person you bear false witness by your connection to some commercial service, brand or by your failure to explain the true cost of financing a purchase.
"Bearing false witness" means introducing errors into information processing systems biological or otherwise. Systems that use distributed, collectively defined symbolic communication systems like language are particularly vulnerable to damage (and to sabotage).
Introducing error damages such systems globally, For this reason in virtual environments, the commandment against bearing false witness is not only important, it is important to enforce.
One of the reasons we are facing a crisis in civilization right now it that we have allowed advertisers and marketers to say or imply virtually anything if it helped them to sell products. "It's just advertising. No one beleives it. It does not harm etc are untrue statements.
Disobedience to this commandment has consequence. They are not imposed by any Deity, they are inherent in the act itself. Introducing error is like introducing shit into your drinking water. A little bit builds immunity. More people start getting sick. Eventually you can't support civilizations, lights out. Here we are. Language has been damaged. Trust destroyed. When we damage language we damage our ability to think and understand our world and our part in it.
We're going to have an opportunity to correct this, and to repair the damage we're done to ourselves, each other, and the earth.
We will have a choice after we have had an opportunity to see the alternative, the world of error, the world of relative truth the world that advertising, marketing and materialism we have made. We'll see how many likes it gets.
"Art is not a plaything, but a necessity, and its essence, form, is not a decorative adjustment, but a cup into which life can be poured, lifted to the lips and tasted. If one's own existence has no form, if its events do not come handily to mind and disclose their significance, we feel about ourselves as if we were reading a bad book. We can all of us judge the truth of this, for hardly any of us manage to avoid some periods where the main theme of our lives is obscured by details, when we involve ourselves with persons who are insufficiently characterized; and it is possibly true not only of individuals, but of nations."๏ปฟ
"If you want to regulate your life or judge history, you should at least know how God spends his day s. He has set aside a place, four cubits by four, and there he studies Talmud for the first three hours. From the fourth to the sevventh hour, God sits and judges the world, but since he sees the world is guilty, he rises from the seat of Judgement and goes to sit on the throne of Mercy. During the third part of the day he sits there and feeds all the creatures of the world from the rhinoceros to the flea. During the fourth part of the day God plays with the Leviathan."
A larcenous fireman - And they were all larcenous, I believe,
Or most of them were: the year is 1900 and his mouth is as dry as the mouth of a patient
to whom atropine has been administered - makes one - at the burning of the last great cityblock patroonship on Manhattan's Fortress Fifth; and his heart is very zealous for the good, for the good and inconspicuous,
and for whatever is subject to a quick exchange
at the pawns on Canal Street. O, a fat wish, certainly.
And it burns inside him as the fats
and membranes of a caul might burn,
full of fry on a votive griddle.
But the Man of the House gets in the way
with his "Save them." "Save my Little Ones." -
This,while his favorite horses scald:
Matched bays, the pride of the avenue, they kick down their stable door, rise up, and dance on the hoses. Hook and ladder: this building is only twelve years old.
And the fortune it was built to trumpet less than fifty. Yet an Admiral had waltzed here
and a Prince of the Blood. For fun! Pulitzer's flying squad of photographers bob and weave through the smoke.
Police lines burst with the yellow kids - all of them in wonderland.
And the fireman? The fireman is in Hell.
Hot Hell. His several fires spit and spasm.
For he can find nothing. Nothing at all.
Were there others then?
Thieving Sergeants of police, and faster fireman? He is too late.
And he cries the fat tears of a furious child,
the milk fat tears. Only his are black and bloody. Ah, but here are the Little Ones. in expensive French night gowns.
They scream as rabbits are supposed to as their nightgowns burn.
And the fireman damns their eyes and those in their portrait by John Singer Sargent
who boldly has pictured them against the long
blue silver dress of their mother, a beauty and a sportswoman.
"Bitch," says the fireman as the picture goes up like a tong house joss stick.
"Bitch," he sobs, "where's mine I'd like to know?"
Then the terror of an answered prayer. The miracle, if you must. For a fugitive flame reveals the hiding place of what?
An apostle spoon. Two candlesticks and a silver creamer. The forgotten horde of whom? Some backstairs dragonet, perhaps? An otherwise inept domestic, dismissed now for the drink and back in her cold water flat in Brooklyn?
For this was way back when, when the rich were fat and the boxers were Irish, and there were servants, lots of them, and half those servants stole.
For fee, and fi, and foe and fum.
And the fireman sings his triumph to the red ruin of the house around him.
He exults. He waltzes. And it is to be hoped that he picks up those pathetic Little Ones
before he lowers his head to crash through the leaded French window that gives onto fifty first street.
DOITQ!
All in the very morning hour
Our gentle Lord and Savior
Was fettered and arraingned before
the bailiff of Judea.
But heathen Pilate found no stain
In him or civil terror
Accordingly he sent him on to
Magistrate King Herod
Third hour, and the son of God
Was scourged by whips and bludgeoned.
And then those sinful people placed
A crown of thorns upon him.
Revile him, did those citizens
And beat him, did those soldiers.
The cross on which he was to die
was laid upon his shoulders.
Sixth hour, they stripped him of his robe
And on the cross they nailed him.
The Christ was bleeding freely now.
(And are the faithful wailing?)
His enemies made sport of him,
So did the true believers.
The sun itself retired then
To scorn their cruel behavior.
Ninth hour, Jesus Christ cried out
"My God I am forsaken!"
They gave him bile and vinegar
His mortal thirst to slaken.
Then Jesus Christ gave up the ghost
And all creation trembled;
The temple fell and from the hill
The rock of Ages tumbled.
And in the very vesper hour
The two thieves' bones were broken.
A spear was thrust in Jesus side,
And Jesus' side did open.
And blood and water did run out,
It flowed beyond all measure,
And all the folk from round about
did mock our lord and Savior.
THE LAND WHERE MONEY TALKS
He was voted to death
PEDOVORE BOOGIE
same
Can do some cool 3D
DOIT HW2
Sometimes the magic worksโฆ
No he doesn't want the fake "peace prize" or to take part in a "friendship ceremony" depicted here.