I don’t remember exactly what year it was, that I first told Michael Rios about the modern Star. Probably 2014.
I sent him a latex file, where I was looking at the symplectic Penrose map from the eight dimensional integers down into the plane. Then I wrote down the area of the pentagram, thinking about some work of Hodges, and explicitly mentioned the Star of David as the hexagonal analog. And I was putting quaternions in there too.
Of course I didn’t care much about the Lie algebras. They are less important than the category theory. And people tend to conveniently forget what I tell them. All the time. So when Piero Truini said to me, “You know, it was Mike who told me about the Star. I never realised”, I simply replied, “Yes, I know it was Mike. It had to be.” Piero didn’t understand what I meant. And there wasn’t really any point in trying to explain. People choose what they believe in.
Back in 2010, when he asked me about the London moment anomaly, I said it was the neutrinos, with a precise numerical value. Of course, nobody told me about McCulloch’s work, or about anything else that was important, but it’s pretty obvious now that the cabal and the military knew about these things, although they did not understand the connection to neutrinos until they stole it from me in 2017.
So the lovely female scientist told me that it was only a limit on her credit card that was preventing the payment to the Internal Revenue payment, and then she made a payment. But she asked that I check whether or not it went through.
So I tried. First, I attempted to set up an online IRD account, using my tax file number. Then I phoned from a local phone box. The automated voice service said that my account was now active. I decided to stay on hold to ask about the payment that they should have received. The automated voice service said that there was only a ten minute waiting time, but I stood there listening to the stupid music for about half an hour before I gave up. Then I tried to log on to my new online account. But first I had to set up a password. There was no screen on my browser for doing this, so eventually I just hit the ‘forgot password’ button and tried that way. The IRD website then informed me that I was locked out of my account due to too many log in attempts. They said I should phone them.
Due to the success of the #MeTooSTEM movement on Twatter, people have been treating me a bit better lately. One kind female scientist from America even offered to send me some hard cash, which I could certainly use on groceries and other necessities that I don’t have. But accepting cash (short of a million dollars) is a tricky business, because my meagre income depends on me being as poor as possible. If anyone handed me a large wad of cash, a minute later someone would phone the Ministry to report it, cutting me off and making me homeless once again. So I told the lady not to pay me directly, but to make a contribution to my debt, which is of course killing me slowly. Now, most businesses have no problem accepting money, right?
I mean, you present the correct details, and they take the money. But in my case, it frequently happens that people refuse to accept money, if that’s what Big Brother wants. The funny thing about this particular case is that the business in question is called the Internal Revenue Department. Yes, the government.
Why does my iPad Safari browser think that I should not be allowed to watch lectures by Francis Brown?
The mornings are cold now, so I was pleased when the nurse let me in to the waiting area as soon as she arrived. She even gave me a cup of tea. I sat there for a long time, until other people came in and filled up the room.
I saw that the community worker was there. She looked at me strangely and so I asked her why she hadn’t replied to my recent emails.
”You never wrote to me about the appointment”, she said. “I was wondering why.”
I looked at her calmly. “I see”, I said. “So you never got any emails from me recently?”
”No”, she exclaimed. “I was waiting to hear from you”.
I pulled out my ipad and showed her the Sent folder on the default ipad mail app. The last email to her was sitting their tidily, looking perfectly normal.
”So you never received this then?” I asked her.
She looked at it, then up at my face, and then back at the ipad. “No! Not at all.”
I sighed. “Don’t worry about it. Just my stalkers deleting my emails, as usual. Not much I can do about it.”
And we left it at that, agreeing that maybe she would email me later to keep in touch.