Way back when I was in college, I had the opportunity to spend Thanksgiving weekend at the home of an ATF agent. A decent man and family, and a pleasant time. While a number of us lazed in front of the TV watching football and drinking beer he casually told me that my name would be on a list. He was clear that there was nothing to be concerned about, it was just that I was getting a degree in Forest Management and people like me were put on a list. It didn’t concern me, and still doesn’t. I have never pursued any illegal intentions in my life, and I certainly never intend to.

Twenty-five years ago I started blogging with one titled “The Seritinous Man”. Seritinous is an ecology term, serotiny or seritinous, which describes an adaptation to fire. It was in about 2003, when the then Vice President Dick Cheney said one of the dumbest things ever, that “conservation made for good personal policy, but for bad public policy.” In response I wrote a satirical blog post describing the next world war where the US, Russia, and China would immediately bomb the oil production capabilities of each other and their petroleum based militaries would grind to a halt. Leaving the world vulnerable to the dominance of Iceland.

With the way the Internet worked back then I was able to see who was viewing my posts rather specifically, and saw the Pentagon was all over that post like insecurity on a millionaire. Six months later the Pentagon announced it would be diversifying their energy usage. My rational mind seriously doubts any connection, but my ego takes full credit.

At some point I wrote a post called “The Rubik’s Cube Metaphor.” The thesis of the post was that there are always lessons to learn. There is one lesson to learn if we choose to solve the Rubik’s Cube the normal way, and there is a different lesson to learn if we choose to cheat and smash it apart and put it back together, solved. One lesson is not better than the other, just different. In the days that followed the Boston Marathon bombing, the Boston FBI were all over that post like guilt on a banker. Then, a few days later, the FBI’s Criminal Database in Albany NY, (or, that is where my stat counter said it was) crawled through my blog in a very ominous way.

None of these things worried me at all, as I always had the notion of being “on a list” in an innocuous way in the back of my mind. But, then people started appearing in my life.

I am generally a very affable person. To the point where it is glaringly overt if someone takes an interest in me and doesn’t approach or say hello. These “watchers” would come around from time to time. All of them looking like federal agents.

It is my routine to go out first thing in the morning and write out my thoughts over a cup of coffee. My life can be broken up according to where I was frequenting at the time. Places would close or change management. A certain barista would move to Oregon with her wife, leaving her fans bereft, and I would be sent searching for more suitable accommodations. (I still miss her coffee.)

During one phase, probably around 2015 or so, at a particular place, two people came into my world. One was an Arab man who said he worked at a local hospital, and the other was a white haired man who sat in the corner and read a book. The white haired man, whom I called The Librarian, was clearly observing. While the Arab man casually tried to befriend me. He sat in a booth and spoke Arabic to his computer, telling me he was talking to his sister in some middle eastern country. He seemed a decent guy, but the gambit was obvious so I was polite while keeping my distance. It ended when he casually brought up that he was planning a vacation trip to Libya and Yemen to visit family. I smiled and said that it sounded like a lot of traveling. Keeping the awareness that it would be impossible for him to get back into the States after such a trip to myself. After that he approached me in the parking lot and said it was nice talking to me, shook my hand, and said goodbye. I never saw him or the Librarian again.

A few years later, around 2018 or 19, I received my first first watcher who displayed malicious intent. He looked like a professional agent of one sort or another. He had black hair and was about forty years old, but was dressed in a manner that seemed to make him uncomfortable. He was wearing baggy khaki pants like a teenager would with a large red ski parka. He sat and watched me as others had done before, but he had his phone out and was pointing the camera at me in a less than discreet fashion. Also, what stood out to me was that he began to glare at me with a sense of asserting dominance. The impression he gave was that he had intentions.

My mother got ill, and I spent a year and a half visiting the hospital and helping her with the ordeal. During that time I have been inundated with people following me around. A young red haired guy overtly staring at me like he owned me. An old lady who looked very similar to my mother, keeping an eye on me. I ran an experiment and abruptly got up to leave when she was doing something without her phone in her hand. I watched her fall all over herself to get her phone and text while keeping an eye on me. Cars playing games trying to get close. Hackers, drug dealers, wise guys, and federal agents coming around. I am quite certain that it is not just my imagination, and there really is far too much detail to my experiences to share here. It would be over one hundred pages. (I have noted much of it privately.)

Keeping focused on my mother, I tried to keep an eye on important things, accounts and such, but the stress of the constant presence added up. I went to the police to say there were people following me. They hardly heard a word before they dismissed me saying that it was impossible for anyone to be following me because I was not an “internationally important person.” As I returned to my car in the police parking lot, one of the cars that was following me was parked next to my car and, as I approached, it pulled out and drove away in a manner that I can only describe as menacing. All of the windows were blacked out. Including the front one. I don’t remember when that became legal.

Another thing I have noticed during this onslaught is that there is a brief respite before the people who look like federal agents show up to do their bit. Clearly indicating that the people who look like criminals are aware of when the people who look like government agents are going to be present.

I have no idea of what is actually happening. No one has ever talked to me directly about anything. So, I keep myself to myself and wait to see where all this will all end up. My point in sharing all of this is quite simple. The United States of America is a third world country, and I feel sorry for anyone who does not understand this.