by me, Kerry Burgess, 08/11/2025 9:48 PM
Accepted the impulse in my conscious-mind and checked the current time of day: 9:47 PM. That makes it after midnight on the east-coast USA, three hours later than the same time here on the west-coast time-zone USA
by me, Kerry Burgess, 03/06/2024
So galactically moronic how those UFO-bunker imbeciles on Twitter that I followed last year were blathering on - creating their own idiotic illustrations - of "Tic Tac" UFO's "with feet".
If E.T. really were watching then they would simply shake their heads at you shaved-ape monkeys and your ridiculous UFO-bunker nonsense. You're just losers so desperate to escape your mediocrity. You would never learn anything from E.T. even if they were here, which they are not.
You're incapable of knowing any better.
Posted by me, Kerry Burgess, October 21, 2021
May The Aether Be With You!
You dim-wit dullards desperate for escape from your pathetic life, incapable of independent thought or actually learning anything
https://www.presidency.ucsb.edu/documents/the-presidents-radio-address-693
IMDb
Star Wars (1977)
Quotes
Ben Obi-Wan Kenobi: Mos Eisley spaceport: You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.
From 6/29/2002 ( ) To 8/11/2025 ( ) is 8444 days
8444 = 4222 + 4222
From 11/2/1965 ( my known birth date in Antlers, Oklahoma, USA, as Kerry Wayne Burgess ) To 5/25/1977 ( premiere USA film "Star Wars" ) is 4222 days
https://www.yahoo.com/news/lifestyle/articles/trump-federalizes-dc-police-rescue-160027404.html
excerpt
http://www.newsweek.com/2013/11/15/biggest-little-cia-shop-youve-never-heard-243964.html
Newsweek
IN THE MAGAZINE U.S.
THE BIGGEST LITTLE CIA SHOP YOU’VE NEVER HEARD OF
BY JEFF STEIN ON 11/14/13 AT 5:36 PM
NEW YORK, NY - OCTOBER 9: A man walks along Wall Street in Manhattan on October 9, 2012 in New York City. State Comptroller Thomas DiNapoli will release his annual report on employment and earnings October 9, in New York' City's financial industry, one of the worlds largest. While employment is still down thousands of positions since the economic crisis of 2008, DiNapoli has said that last year the sector employed 166,600 people in hedge funds, investment banks and securities trading firms. (Photo by Spencer Platt/Getty Images)
A few years ago, an American company placed a want ad for an aerospace engineering consultant in an Asian newspaper. It quickly drew a flurry of applicants - one of whom was just the kind of person the company was looking for: someone who worked in that country's missile program, someone who was a little sleazy, someone looking to make a little cash on the side.
This was a CIA front operation, and soon that eager applicant was supplying the spy agency with details on his country's ballistic missile program.
That kind of covert activity is a specialty of the CIA's National Resources Division, a little-known, U.S.-based component of the agency's National Clandestine Service.
The CIA's main business is sending operatives abroad to recruit spies and, especially since 9/11, chasing down terrorists for its target-hungry drone pilots. But NR, as it's known, is the agency's stay-at-home division. It's nothing like Homeland, however, with operatives running about with guns in the D.C. suburbs (though its 1960s-era predecessors once spied on antiwar and civil rights activists and recruited Cuban exiles to harass Fidel Castro). It also works with the FBI and NSA in bugging foreign diplomatic missions there.
Think of it as a more cuddly CIA. Its main business is to openly gather information from Americans who've traveled to places the CIA is interested in, particularly hard targets like North Korea, and to inveigle foreigners in the U.S. - officials, scientists and students - into spying when they return home.
For the men (and women) of the CIA's principal espionage corps, working abroad under cover, often in some of the world's nastiest neighborhoods, National Resources looks like the country club of Spy-Ville, a 9-to-5 domestic job, free of risk and stress, a refuge for the lazy, the incompetents and the burnouts.
"We look down on NR: You're a slacker, you're going home every night and watching TV, while I'm here in Moscow with the Russians looking up my ass with a microscope. We're not working for the same organization," says one veteran overseas operative, echoing a common view. "In Moscow, Beijing, Delhi, whatever, I'm not only living in rotten conditions, I've got a hostile intelligence service following me around."
Says another: "The problem is - they'll deny it - but NR's recruitments [of spies] are not to the same standards" as the rest of the clandestine service. "They're under the gun more than others to recruit by the numbers. They'll recruit a Moroccan because he's a Moroccan, not because he has access. And it's a crapshoot when they go back home.... In general, their recruitments are not viewed that positively." (The CIA declined comment for this story.)
NR's operations also irritate the turf-conscious FBI, which is in charge of domestic counterintelligence and counterterrorism and also recruits foreigners here as spies. Others argue that its intimate relations with top U.S. corporate executives willing to have their companies fronting for the CIA invites trouble at home and abroad.
All of which makes a few spy veterans question how valuable the NR is.
From 8/3/1998 ( "Rainbow Six" by Tom Clancy ) To 8/11/2025 ( ) is 9870 days
9870 = 4935 + 4935
From 11/2/1965 ( my known birth date in Antlers, Oklahoma, USA, as Kerry Wayne Burgess ) To 5/8/1979 ( premiere USA TV series episode "Greatest Heroes of the Bible"::"The Ten Commandments" ) is 4935 days
Rainbow Six (1998) - Tom Clancy
(from internet transcript)
excerpts, Chapter 35
"They didn't tell you?"
"No, Foster, not that part. Can you tell me?"
What the hell, Hunnicutt thought again. The Olympics were almost over. Why not? This Russkie understood about Nature, knew about riding, and he damned sure worked for John Brightling in a very sensitive capacity.
"It's called Shiva," he began, and went on for several minutes.
For Popov it was a time to put his professional face back on. His emotions were neutralized while he listened. He even managed a smile which masked his inner horror.
"But how do you distribute it?"
"Well, you see, John has a company that also works for him. Global Security-the boss man's a guy named Henriksen."
"Ah, yes, I know him. He was in your FBI."
"Oh? I knew he was a cop, but not a fed. Anyway, they got the consulting contract withthe Aussies for the Olympics, and one of Bill's people will be spreading the Shiva. Something to do with the air-conditioning system at the stadium, they tell me. They're going to spread it on the last day, see, and the closing ceremonies. The next day everyone flies home, and then, like, thousands of people all take the bug home with them."
"But what protects us?"
"You got a shot when you came here, right?"
"Yes, Killgore said it was a booster for something."
"Oh, it was, Dmitriy. It's a booster, all right. It's the vaccine that protects you against Shiva. I got it, too. That's the `B' vaccine, pal. There's another one, they tell me, the `A' vaccine, but that one's not the one you want to get." Hunnicutt explained on.
"How do you know all this?" Popov asked.
"Well, you see, in case people figure this out, I'm one of the guys who helped set up the perimeter security System here. So, they told me why the Project needs perimeter security. It's pretty serious shit, man. If anyone were to find out about what was done, hell, they might even nuke us, y'know?" Foster pointed out with a grin. "Not many people really understand about saving the planet. I mean, we do this now, or in about twenty years, hell, everything and everybody dies. Not just the people. The animals, too. We can't let that happen, can we?"
"I see your point. Yes, that does make sense," Dmitriy Arkadeyevich agreed, without choking on his words.
Hunnicutt nodded with some satisfaction. "I figured you'd get it, man. So, those terrorist things you got started, well, they were very pretty important. Without getting everybody all hot and bothered about international terrorism, Bill Hendriksen might not have got his people in place to do their little job. So," Hunnicutt said as he fished a cigar out of his pocket, "thanks, Dmitriy. You were really an important part for this here Project."
"Thank you, Foster," Popov responded. Is this possible? he wondered. "How certain are you that this will work?"
"It oughta work. I asked that question, too. They let me in on some of the planning, 'cuz I'm a scientist-I was a pretty good geologist once, trust me. I know a lot of stuff. The disease is a real mother. The real key to that was the genetic engineering done on the original Ebola. Hell, you remember how scary that was a year and a half ago, right?"Popov nodded. "Oh, yes. I was in Russia then, and it was very frightening indeed." Even more frightening had been the response American president, he reminded himself.
From 3/31/1961 ( premiere USA TV series episode "The Twilight Zone"::"Long Distance Call" ) To 1/7/2021 ( debut "The House of the Dead" s1e4 CBS Paramount+ "The Stand" ) is 21832 days
From 11/2/1965 ( my known birth date in Antlers, Oklahoma, USA, as Kerry Wayne Burgess ) To 8/11/2025 ( ) is 21832 days
Rainbow Six (1998) - Tom Clancy
(from internet transcript)
excerpts, Chapter 25
"So how's that people-finder working out?"
"The damned thing is fucking magic, Ding. Give me another week and I'll have the new one figured out. There's a parabolic attachment for the antenna, looks like something out of Star Trek, I guess, but goddamn, does it find people." He wiped the parts off and sprayed Break-Free on them for cleaning and lubrication. "That Woods guy's a pretty good coach, isn't he?"
"Yeah, well, he just fixed a little problem for me," Ding said, taking the spray can to start cleaning his own service automatic.
"The head guy at the FBI Academy when I was there did wonders for me, too. Just how your hands match up on the butt, I guess. And a steady finger." Noonan ran a hatch through the barrel, eyeballed it, and reassembled his pistol. "You know, the best part about being over here is, we're about the only people who get to carry guns."
"I understand civilians can't own handguns over Here, eh?"
"Yeah, they changed the law a few years ago. I'm sure it'll help reduce crime," Noonan observed. "They started their gun-control laws back in the '20s, to control the IRA. Worked like a charm, didn't it?" The FBI agent laughed. "Oh, well, they never wrote down a Constitution like we did."
"You carry all the time?"
"Hell, yes!" Noonan looked up. "Hey, Ding, I'm a cop, y'dig? I feel naked without a friend on my belt. Even when I was working Lab Division in Headquarters, reserved parking space and all, man, I never walked around D.C. without a weapon."
"Ever have to use it?" Tim shook his head. "No, not many agents do, but it's part of the mystique, you know?" He looked back at his target. "Some skills you just like to have, man."
The Stand - complete edition, by Stephen King
(from internet transcript)
excerpts, Chapter 52
In the early hours of the morning, Mother Abagail lay sleepless in her bed. She was trying to pray.
“Show me my sin, Lord. I don’t know. I know I’ve gone and missed something You meant for me to see. I can’t sleep, I can’t take a crap, and I don’t feel You, Lord. I feel like I’m prayin into a dead phone, and this is a bad time for that to happen. How have I offended Thee? I’m listenin, Lord. Listenin for the still, small voice in my heart.”
And she did listen. She put her arthritis-bunched fingers over her eyes and leaned forward even farther and tried to clear her mind. But all was dark there, dark like her skin, dark like the fallow earth that waits for the good seed.
Please my Lord, my Lord, please my Lord —
But the image that rose was of a lonely stretch of dirt road in a sea of corn. There was a woman with a gunnysack full of freshly killed chickens. And the weasels came. They darted forward and made snatches at the bag. They could smell the blood—the old blood of sin and the fresh blood of sacrifice. She heard the old woman raise her voice to God, but her tone was weak and whining, a petulant voice, not begging humbly that God’s will be done, whatever her place in that will’s scheme of things might be, but demanding that God save her so she could finish the work… her work… as if she knew the Mind of God and could suborn His will to hers. The weasels grew bolder still; the croker sack began to fray as they twitched and pulled it. Her fingers were too old, too weak. And when the chickens were gone the weasels would still be hungry and they would come for her. Yes. They would—
And then the weasels were scattering, they had run squeaking into the night, leaving the contents of the sack half-devoured, and she thought exultantly: God has saved me after all! Praise His Name! God has saved His good and faithful servant.
Not God, old woman. Me.
In her vision, she turned, fear leaping hotly into her throat with a taste like fresh copper. And there, shouldering its way out of the corn like a ragged silver ghost, was a huge Rocky Mountain timberwolf, its jaws hanging open in a sardonic grin, its eyes burning. There was a beaten silver collar around its thick neck, a thing of handsome, barbarous beauty, and from it dangled a small stone of blackest jet… and in the center was a small red flaw, like an eye. Or a key.
She crossed herself and forked the sign of the evil eye at this dreadful apparition, but its jaws only grinned wider, and between them lolled the naked pink muscle of its tongue.
I’m coming for you, Mother. Not now, but soon. We’ll run you like dogs run deer, I am all the things you think, but I’m more. I’m the magic man. I’m the man who speaks for the latter age. Your own people know me best, Mother. They call me John the Conqueror.
Go! Lave me in the name of the Lord God Almighty!
But she was so terrified! Not for the people around her, which were represented in her dream by the chickens in the sack, but for herself. She was afraid in her soul, afraid for her soul.
Your God has no power over me, Mother. His vessel is weak.
No! Not true! My strength is the strength of ten, I shall mount up with wings as eagles —
But the wolf only grinned and drew closer. She shrank from its breath, which was heavy and savage. This was the terror at noonday and the terror which flieth at midnight, and she was afraid. She was in her extremity of fear. And the wolf, still grinning, began to speak in two voices, asking and then answering itself.
“Who brought water from the rock when we were thirsty? ”
“I did,” the wolf answered in a petulant, half-crowing, half-cowering voice.
“Who saved us when we did faint? ” asked the grinning wolf, its muzzle now only bare inches from her, its breath that of a living abattoir.
“I did,” the wolf whined, drawing closer still, its grinning muzzle full of sharp death, its eyes red and haughty. “Oh fall down and praise my name, I am the bringer of water in the desert, praise my name, I am the good and faithful servant who brings water in the desert, and my name is also the name of my Master —”
The mouth of the wolf opened wide to swallow her.
“… my name,” she muttered. “Praise my name, praise God from whom all blessings flow, praise Him ye creatures here below…”
She raised her head and looked around the room in a kind of stupor. Her Bible had fallen to the floor. There was dawnlight in the eastward-facing window.
“O my Lord!” she cried in a great and quavering voice.
Who brought water from the rock when we were thirsty?
Was that it? Dear God, was that it? Was that why the scales had covered her eyes, making her blind to the things she should know?
Bitter tears began to fall from her eyes and she got slowly and painfully to her feet and walked to the window. Arthritis jabbed blunt darning needles into the joints of her hips and knees.
She looked out and knew what she had to do now.
She went back to the closet and pulled the white cotton nightgown over her head. She dropped it on the floor. Now she stood naked, revealing a body so lapped with wrinkles that it might have been the bed of time’s great river.
“Thy will be done,” she said, and began to dress.
An hour later she was walking slowly west on Mapleton Avenue toward the wooded tangles and narrow-throated defiles beyond town.
Stu was at the power plant with Nick when Glen burst in. Without preamble he said, “Mother Abagail. She’s gone.”
Rainbow Six (1998) - Tom Clancy
(from internet transcript)
excerpts, CHAPTER 27
TRANSFER AGENTS
"It really is a waste of time," Barbara Archer said at her seat in the conference room. "F4 is dead, just her heart's still beating. We've tried everything. Nothing stops Shiva. Not a damned thing."
"Except the -B vaccine antibodies," Killgore noted.
"Except them," Archer agreed. "But nothing else works, does it?"
There was agreement around the table. They had literally tried every treatment modality known to medicine, including things merely speculated upon at CDC, USAMRIID, and the Pasteur Institute in Paris. They'd even tried every antibiotic in the arsenal from penicillin to Keflex, and two new synthetics under experimentation by Merck and Horizon. The use of the antibiotics had merely been t-crossing and i-dotting, since not one of them helped viral infections, but in desperate times people tried desperate measures, and perhaps something new and unexpected might have happened-but not with Shiva. This new and improved version of Ebola hemorrhagic fever, genetically engineered to be hardier than the naturally produced version that still haunted the Congo River Valley, was as close to 100 percent fatal and 100 percent resistant to treatment as anything known to medical science, and absent a landmark breakthrough in infectious-disease treatment, nothing would help those exposed to it. Many would suffer exposure from the initial release, and the rest would get it from the -A vaccine Steve Berg had developed, and through both modalities, Shiva would sweep across the world like a slow-developing storm. Inside of six months, the people left alive would fall into three categories. First, those who hadn't been exposed in any way. There would be few of them, since every nation on earth would gobble up supplies of the -A vaccine and inject their citizens with it, because the first Shiva victims would horrify human with access to a television. The second group would be those rarest of people whose immune systems were sufficient to protect them from Shiva. The lab had yet to discover any such individuals, but some would inevitably be out there-happily, most of those would probably die from the collapse of social services in the cities and towns of the world, mainly from starvation or from the panicked lawlessness sure to accompany the plague or from the ordinary bacterial diseases that accompanied large numbers of unburied dead
The Stand - complete edition, by Stephen King
(from internet transcript)
excerpts, Chapter 53
Now the letters seemed to scream across the page:
WE ARE IN THE HOUSE OF THE DEAD NADINE
The last word howled itself across the page in inch-high capital letters and then the planchette whirled from the tablet, leaving a long streak of graphite behind like a shout. It fell on the floor and snapped in two.
There had been an instant of shocked, immobile silence, and then Jane Fargood had burst into high, weeping hysterics. The thing had ended with the housemother coming upstairs to see what was wrong; Nadine remembered, and she had been about to call the infirmary for Jane when the girl had managed to get hold of herself a little.
Through the whole thing Rachel Timms had sat on her bed, calm and pale. When the housemother and most of the other girls (including the horse-faced girl, who undoubtedly felt that a prophetess is without much honor in her own land) had left, she had asked Nadine in a flat, strange voice: “Who was it, Nadine?”
“I don’t know,” Nadine had answered truthfully. She hadn’t had the slightest idea. Not then.
“You didn’t recognize the handwriting?”
“No.”
“Well, maybe you just better take that… that note from beyond or whatever it is… and go back to your room.”
“You asked me to sit down!” Nadine flashed at her. “How was I supposed to know anything like… like that would happen? I did it to be polite, for God’s sake!”
Rachel had had the good grace to flush at that; she had even offered a little apology. But Nadine had never seen much of the girl after that, and Rachel Timms had been one of the few girls Nadine had ever felt really close to during her first three semesters at college.
From then until now she had never touched one of these triangular spiders made of pressed fiberboard.
But the time had… well, it had slouched around at last, hadn’t it?
Yes indeed.
Heart beating loudly, Nadine sat down on the picnic bench and pressed her fingers lightly to two of the planchette’s three sides. She could feel it begin to move under the balls of her fingers almost immediately, and she thought of a car with its engine idling. But who was the driver? Who was he, really? Who would climb in, and slam the door, and put his sun-blackened hands on the wheel? Whose foot, brutal and heavy, shod in an old and dusty cowboy boot, would come down on the accelerator and take her… where?
Driver, where you taking us?
Nadine, beyond help or hope of succor, sat upright on the bench at the crest of Flagstaff Mountain in the black trench of morning, her eyes wide, that feeling of being on the border stronger than ever. She stared east, but felt his presence coming from behind her, pressing heavy on her, dragging her down like weights tied to the feet of a dead woman: Flagg’s dark presence, coming in steady, inexorable waves.
Somewhere the dark man was abroad in the night, and she spoke two words like an incantation to all the black spirits that had ever been—incantation and invitation:
“Tell me.”
And beneath her fingers, the planchette began to write.
https://www.imdb.com/name/nm1720028/bio/
IMDb
Amber Heard
Biography
Born April 22, 1986 Austin, Texas, USA
Birth name Amber Laura Heard
excerpts, Credits
The Stand (2020-2021) as Nadine Cross
From 11/17/1965 ( ) To 4/22/1986 ( ) is 7461 days
From 11/2/1965 ( my known birth date in Antlers, Oklahoma, USA, as Kerry Wayne Burgess ) To 4/7/1986 ( ) is 7461 days
https://www.presidency.ucsb.edu/node/269091
The American Presidency Project
GEORGE BUSH
41st President of the United States: 1989 - 1993
Executive Order 12684 Conforming the Central Intellegence Agency and Civil Service Retirement and Disability Systems
July 27, 1989
By virtue of the authority vested in me as President by the Constitution and laws of the United States of America, including section 292 of the Central Intelligence Agency Retirement Act of 1964 for Certain Employees, as amended note) (the "Act"), and in order to conform the Central Intelligence Agency Retirement and Disability System to certain amendments to the Civil Service Retirement and Disability System, it is hereby ordered as follows:
Section 1. The Director of Central Intelligence shall maintain the Central Intelligence Agency Retirement and Disability System in accordance with the following principles:
(a) In computing and annuity for an employee who service includes service on a part-time basis performed on or after April 7, 1986, such service, other than service subject to the Federal Employees Retirement System, shall be computed as follows
- by me, Kerry Wayne Burgess, posted by me: 12:04 AM Pacific-timezone USA Tuesday 08/12/2025
