The alert for when 9/11 was supposed to occur came the night before from an Asian-looking man (possibly Eastern with the strong jawline) who wished to be known as Jimbo Briggs. Yes, my “nanotechnology” was/is the source.
As in Yojimbo. The film by Kurosawa. Not like South Park. He felt this was his moment to be a samurai. And Briggs meaning, like, Ft. Bragg. Or maybe it was the name of a Black-Ops site. They didn’t know.
He continued that he was in my head on behalf of The Jiang Dynasty. They rarely called themselves that, he said. He was stationed in Vietnam. On a Chinese Military base. They disclosed that their conversation with America that had been intercepted by Japan. They were unhappy enough of what they heard that they would tell their favorite prowrestling fan (ie: myself) of the latest spoilers. The attack that you fear, I was told, would occur the following day.
They said I was the hero who informed them via my ohyourebel webpage. I had hipped them it would happen on a holiday that would be celebrated as Anti-Police later. They'd crunched the words.
I trusted this voice. They said this was for the heart of China. That they tried to help.
At least one country knows how to handle Anti-Terrorism operations, I said. I will tell their president.
Meaning King George. That was around 11:25pm. Again, yes, this is on 9/10. The conversation I had with Bush lasted over three hours.
But here’s one last thing that they said, “If it were us attacking, America would expect to defend from the left, right? But they’d never know it were us if we came from the right… Sleep well, young communist-revolutionary…”
“Put me through to Bush,” I said, aloud, finally. “Now. If I have get someone to make it a direct order then I will. Hurry. There’s no time. Fuck. There’s no such thing as time.”
“There’s plenty of time. I’ll patch you through. He probably won’t want to hear from you, haha. But I don’t care. This sounds important.”
“I can’t even tell you how serious this is.”
“Is it about the secret you’ve been keeping?”
“Who am I talking to?” I ask.
“He’s waking up. He’ll be the next voice you hear.”
“This changes nothing. We have parameters in place to prevent what you say will happen. Whatever you might say now. Go ahead. Say what you’re going to say. Again, it changes nothing. You will change nothing,” Bush said, clearly just getting out of bed.
“Then I am the Ghost of Nothing,” I say.
“You sure have those words. Whatever that means.”
“Think of me as your God.”
“I will not do that, no.”
“It would help if you did. Based on what I’m going to tell you.”
“Fuck you. Fuck whatever you’ve been told.”
“Fuck it all, man. Tomorrow is the day. You have to call in the evacuations.”
“The hell I will. Who told you that?”
“Someone trustworthy. Doesn’t matter."
“If you’re not going to tell me then I have nothing to say to you.”
“Sorry. No can do. But you will call in the evacuations for five states. Every skyscraper. Every building of possible terrorist interest. You there?”
“I said what I said. I’m not saying anything until you tell me who told you.”
“Let’s just say I obviously don’t trust you to know.”
“Funny, motherfucker. …You always were. But this conversation is over.”
“I’m not trying to convince you. This is an order. The states are New York, Illinois, Florida, Washington State and Texas. You will call this in.”
“Why not? You won. You’re the hero. Either way. You just have to call it in.”
“No. None of that anarchist ‘No One Go To Work Today’ bullshit.”
“You don’t know who the fuck I am.”
“I’ve met a thousand people like you in my time.”
“They’ll be more than that dead if you do nothing, Bush.”
“So what. What about in Iraq? No one cared then. And Texas will be fine. I’ll make damn sure of it. And what about D.C.? You forgot them.”
“Sure. Them too. Call it in. Not joking. Not lying.”
“Oh, yeah. You’re 100% Not Lying. I get you.”
“I thought you weren’t going to talk.”
“I’ll talk about this all day. I’m not doing anything. The System works. It’s worked before. It will work now.”
“I’m giving you an easy victory. No one will hate you for the day off work.”
“My friends will, haha.”
“I don’t want to hear that elitist shit, man. Just make the phone-calls. While I am on the line. I don’t need any special attention for this.”
“Those who know will know it was your idea that I caved into. I don’t care what the populous says.”
“You want to be remembered as C.I.A. scum forever, huh?”
“You’re damn right. They get the job done.”
“Did you not qualify? I’m sure you applied, right?”
“Shut the fuck up. You don’t know anything. I know more about this world than you.”
“You sound like the dumbest motherfucker alive, right now.”
“To you! What does that make you? The smartest man alive?!”
“I don’t need that kind of press. I just want to save lives. That no one dies will be enough for me."
“People die everyday. This shit happens. Grow the (…) up.”
“I am younger than you are. And I’m talking to the President. That’s how goddamn old I am.”
“I’m done talking to you.”
“Call the orders in. Now.”
“No. We’re done talking in circles.”
“Why do you think I’m still on the line?”
“Because I haven’t hung up yet.”
“You know how often I am alone with one voice for this long?”
“I’m just a voice. You remember that.”
“Fuck off. You better not try to say I am guilty then. You’re going to be the one remembered like Hitler.”
“I will say whatever I want about you. And who cares if they call me Hitler. They already do.”
“Bush’s God? Are you there? Hitler? I tried to talk to your retarded sheep! He’s a fucking psychopath!”
“Says the one talking to himself. You don’t ever talk to my God. That’s between me and them. Everything is between me and them.”
“Ha! Now who is the Nazi? You think I care if I misspell a word or two? You will misspell everything by the time I’m done with you! Just like Hillary said!”
“You’re a real piece of work, man.”
“If you were half as hip as you thought you were, you’d already be famous. Figure that one out.”
“I’m not here to fight you. I’m here to make sure you call the proper people to get those towers evacuated.”
“Who do I call? The Police? They know already. They want this too. They’ve been praying for this kind of power.”
“Call everyone you can and as quickly as you can.”
“That’s what you think I should do, huh? Run and piss myself over some towers falling?”
“I remember what Cheney said about the death-toll.”
“Cheney talks too much. I want to know who told you that today was the day.”
“I told them. It was my idea.”
“I’ll find out. And it will be classified. And you will be insane.”
“You often finish your sentences with the same word as you begin them with?”
“I might. What the fuck is it to you?”
“Fuck your God. End this.”
“You say that again and I will end you.”
“Your God is a bitch. Your father is a bitch. Your mother is a goddamn whore. Your brother is a loser.”
“Jeb? What’s Jeb got to do with this?”
“I don’t want to discuss The Supreme Court. I don’t want to discuss anything with you. I just need…”
“Call it in. Call it in. Is that all you can say? You’re losing this argument. How dare you say that about Barbara. Her name is Barbara.”
“I’m not letting that slide. You apologize or this is over.”
“I’m not apologizing for saying your mother is a whore, Bush. Nor is this over.”
“Oh, it is way over… Way the fuck over…”
“No. Apologize to my mother.”
“Apologies to the Queen Mary.”
“She is a saint! You’re right! You wouldn’t say that to my face!”
He doesn’t speak much after that.
I continue to press with everything I have for over two more hours.
I can only hope Yojimbo survived.
Okay. I’ll write what is left of this conversation.
turnnoffyourmind
romaincrisis
dailybridgerton