The question of whether Trump was abducted by aliens may seem strange, but it would fall in line with the other stupid questions congressional democrats are asking.

This would be Paul Trifthauser as a congressman.

Trifthauser: “Mr. Cohen, I have several questions that I believe must be entered into the record that my colleagues have skipped over due to time constraints.

“To the best of your knowledge, has President Trump ever been abducted by aliens?”

Cohen: “I don’t know that, though he did appear several times on the Howard Stern show.”

Trifthauser: “As far as you know, does the President own a Ouija board?”

Cohen: “As far as I know, no.”

Trifthauser: “You are aware that former First Lady Hillary Clinton had a seance and brought Elanor Roosevelt back from the dead.”

Cohen” I am aware of that, and yes, Hillary’s Ouija board is in the White House. You asked if President Trump had one.”

Trifthauser: “The next questions are to clear up rumors that are circulating around Washington.”

Cohen: “Shoot.”

Trifthauser: “Has the President ever eaten grapes out of a pair of Rosie O’Donnell’s panties?”

Cohen: “As far as I know, no.”

Trifthauser: “Is he Theodore Roosevelt’s love child?”

Cohen: “As far as I know, no.”

Trifthauser: “While watching an episode of the Andy Griffith show where Barney was afraid to ask Thelma Lou for a date to the Mount Pilot spring dance, did the President scream, “Come on Barney, grow a pair,” at the TV?

Cohen: “As far as I know, no.”

Trifthauser: “So, what you’re saying is the President did not call Barney Fife a coward?”

Cohen: “As far as I know, no, though he did say he’d do Thelma Lou.”  

Trifthauser: “Is there anybody else President Trump say he’d do?”

Cohen: “Yes, there was a long list. June Cleaver, the Little Mermaid, Belle, the Flying Nun, Lara Croft, the Tomb Raider, Olivia Newton-John, the entire Team USA Olympic women’s soccer team and Betty Rubble to name a few.”

Trifthauser: “As far as you know, has he had sex with any of these women?”

Cohen” “Only Betty Rubble.”   

Trifthauser: “As far as you know, Mr. Cohen, has anyone ever performed oral sex on the President in the oval office.”

Cohen: “Besides Sean Hannity?”

Trifthauser: “Well, aside from what is already common knowledge.”

Cohen: “As far as I know, no.”

Trifthauser: “As far as you know, does the President send out Twitter messages in his underwear.”

Cohen: “As far as I know, no.”

Trifthauser: “One last question, Mr. Cohen. As far as you know, has the President ever had prostitutes give him a golden shower?”

Cohen: “A golden shower?”

Trifthauser: “Yes, that would be where prostitutes urinate on him?”

Cohen: “Besides Hollywood and the staffs of CNN and MSNBC?”

As stupid as these questions may seem, they’re in line with what Congress is asking. Why do we elect people and pay them $170,000 a year to ask stupid questions?




     Will your children be Cyborgs?








In the fifth book of the series “Joseph Schneider, Traitor-Patriot”, Priya, an Indian orphan and Paul Trifthauser’s adopted daughter says this…

“Father, the last two years there has been a huge ramp-up in activity. Buildings are going up everywhere. Companies are moving in. They’re offering jobs to juniors. It’s crazy.”


What she’s talking about is the growth in technology at MIT. She goes on to say this…


“This is the area that Dr. Schneider’s puzzles led us to, remember?  It was communications and belief systems. Dr. Primrose and I are mapping language use by tapping cell phone lines.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

She laughed. “Are you kidding? Nothing is illegal here. We have digitized language use, noun and verb use, and linguistic devices and created an algorithm that we use to tell us a person’s socioeconomic status.”

He shrugged. “Can’t you just tell by listening to them?”

Priya smiled. “Of course, but we are mapping by neighborhood. We can use this information to tailor messages to various neighborhoods and to target what fears and motivations someone in that socioeconomic status would likely pay attention to.”

Trifthauser sat back and nodded his head slowly. “And?”

“And, everybody wants this research. We are hounded constantly to go off-site and private. To move away from the University,” she said, dropping her voice. “Things are starting to come together. We’re at the point where the speed of technology and the sophistication of communication devices is aligning with psychology and cognitive science. We are very close to the point where we have almost total control over the minds of anyone with a cell phone.”


And finally, she gets to the point. How your children will become cyborgs.


“More than that. We would think their thoughts. There would be no need for robots. MIT is trying to create machines that think like people, but they could never match human metabolic function, locomotion, digestion, perception. Our technology simply uses humans to do the same thing. People don’t buy products, we do, we just use people to do it.”

  His eyes widened.

“This knowledge would make us God emperors of the universe. We know precisely what people want to hear, how to phrase it, what nouns, pronouns, verb, adjectives, adverbs and slang and in what order. They literally become robots. Nobody could ever pull chains like we can.”


This is not a fantasy. You are not going to be saved by Spiderman or Superman.   

People are becoming slaves to the machine.

It’s happening all around you. This is the world my character, Paul Trifthauser has to navigate and even as his world is fiction, yours isn’t. Your world is very real.

Just look at the media.

They don’t even make a pretense of being honest, open-minded or even rational. They say exactly what you want to hear, the way you expect to hear it and when you can hear it. It’s not news, it’s science.

“Father,” she said squeezing his hand. “I work in the most advanced cog lab in the world. Almost all the CIA’s black ops, nano, mind control, the whole thing originates within five miles of where we’re sitting.


This is the technology that will turn your children into cyborgs.

By the way, if you think the US government is controlling this, think again. The vast majority of the space is controlled by China, Russia, and Saudi Arabia. They control the news, the think tanks, the “fact check” organizations, many of the NGO’s (another novel on NGO’s is here) as well as many if not most of the web traffic.


In the future, there will be no need for robots. People will do the job. The only question is…


Will this generation of Cyborgs be your kids?


For further interesting reading, check out the links below.

The Argumentative Theory, Hugo Murcier,

Kyle Bass, Hayman Capital Twitter feed. 

Belief Systems, Paul Schwartzmeyer, Blog Post










Sorry, Bernie, but you’re a liar. My short trip through the Communist USSR told me all I needed to know.


Sanders reported his trip to Russia many years ago. It was filled with “wondaful” tidbits about the tranquil life of the people who lived in peace and harmony in socialist utopia.


Sanders is full of shit right up to his socialist, Manhattan ears.


My trip started in Austria, in a rental car. As anyone can tell, Berlin is a long way from the Austrian border to the south. Contrary to what people think, it was easy to get into East Germany. The wall was to keep people in, not out.

By easy, I mean you didn’t have to climb the Berlin Wall.


They unraveled everything in our suitcases. They looked in our shoes, opened my camera. All in all, it took well over an hour and my rudimentary German was worthless. Whatever language they spoke, it wasn’t the same as the Western side.


East Germany was, to us a single word, a “shithole.”


The “autobahn” that connected Austria to Berlin was a double lane stretch of asphalt that had no lines, no guardrails, to warning signs and no mileage signs.


The rest stop was revolting.


In fact, so revolting that my traveling companion wouldn’t go inside. (Keep in mind, this was a rest stop on an autobahn!) There were 4 or 5 tables with no matching chairs. The floor was broken tile, the walls, filthy and the bathroom disgusting.


There were a few people, locals, sitting at tables drinking a German soda called Africola. At that time, Germany had three drinks that were like ours, Africola, Bluna and ZIT. They were like our Coke, 7-up and Orange Crush, but in East Germany they were luxuries. This is what the Soviets called a hard currency store, where they sold products not available to anyone in the USSR. There were Toblerone chocolates, a few bags of, if I remember correctly, Lays potato chips, and couple other “hard currency” items.


The food looked like somebody regurgitated it onto plates.


The kitchen, which was in the dining room, looked like something out of the 40’s and was covered in grease.


The only way I can describe the trip itself was that it was a step back in time to the twenties.


This was especially evident coming from the ultramodern, tourist mecca of Austria. On the Austrian side we say old style stucco and beam chalets. On the USSR side, we saw the same, but they were dirty, not painted, and falling apart. East German towns, there were but a few, looked like they did when the Russians arrived in 1945.


The autobahn was lined with farms.

On Communism


We drove by many farm workers. Dressed in bleak dresses, (It was January) they stood on the sides of the highway and grinned at us toothlessly. They were all middle ages women, in groups of 6 or 7 and none had a hat or gloves.


There was no sign of farm equipment, no buildings, and no bathrooms. There were only open fields of 50 acres or so, with 20-foot watch towers in the middle.


The worse things, though, were the other vehicles.


My short trip through the communist USSR was all I needed. I was driving a Volkswagen gulf. The rest of the cars and trucks looked like something from a 40’s gangster movie. They were all black, though a few of the trucks were gray.


The pollution was horrendous!


Thick, black smoke spewed out of the backs of even the small cars. They drove slowly, not more than 50 mph and, as there were no lines in the road, not that they would have paid attention if there were, so passing was near impossible.


In, fact, I tried to enter the preceding evening but wasn’t allowed in. It was easy to see why. There was no chance one could have driven that highway at night. It would have been impossible to stay on the road, with its black pavement, no lights and no reflective signs.


Bernie Sanders can kiss my capitalist ass.  


One hour into the trip, I had a headache as if someone had put a trash can on my head and beat it with a bat. Carbon monoxide poisoning is a bitch. Driving into West Berlin was like going from a ghetto in Detroit into Disney’s magic kingdom.


Berlin is one of world’s most spectacular cities, with its wide promenades, gorgeous, and seemingly endless museums, spectacular zoo, churches and the Reichstag building, at that time a Museum, sitting majestically by the river. I could have easily lived there even though it was surrounded by a wall.

Then there was the wall.


Kristie and I did the tourist gig. We walked to the Brandenburg Gate and to a spot where a set of stairs led to an observation deck.

From there, you could look over the wall and see Mordor. East Berlin.


I raised my camera and zoomed in on an East German soldier guarding the wall. As I focused, I could see him raise his rifle and aim in at me. I dropped my camera, and dropped his rifle, waved lazily and laughed. I waved back and laughed with him. It was a joke, like the wall, itself .


I felt a deep unease though, and profound pity.


I was a soldier once. It sucks. You throw away your rights so you can be lapdog for some worthless narcissist who thinks your life is worth less than his opinion.  He didn’t want to guard that wall any more than I wanted him to.


Like any 22-year-old, he wanted to find a girl, have a beer, live an honest life. Simple things. Things you can’t have under socialism.


Socialism is death by a thousand pin pricks. All socialism gives you is misery.


So, fuck you Bernie. You’re a fucking liar. You all the leftist liars who preach socialism so they can win elections. I hope you all rot in hell.

For a great espionage novel, click here. To read the first chapters, click on the image below.