Earlier in 2019, I approached a famous pundit whose name is David Brooks (abb. DB) at a book signing in the New York headquarters of a supremely elegant and modern publishing house that hasn't and maybe won't approve of this message in a bottle, and I asked him, "Could you write down facebook dot com slash todd," while I was pointing to the blank page in his book where I wanted him to write my vanity URL, and he replied, "Do you want me to write that in the book, or here so that I can read it later," while showcasing a nondescript binder at the edge of his desk that I hadn't previously noticed.
A snake in the loveliest urban garden had offered to use the power of his pen for my benefit.
I was caught off guard. I usually act self-effacing when I'm caught off guard, but ever since getting settled in the city during the fall of 2018, I have not felt self-effacing, bashful, coy, demure, introverted, or any of the synonyms for, "self-effacing."
I act that way in order to minimize the potential for future conflict, but I recently became a real Trump supporter and DB recently became one of the most destructive and self-serving creatures in the fake news media swamp, so I welcomed the opportunity to stand my ground against him in the middle of NYC.
I'm all in to make America great again, so I wasn't there to ask for anything.
I was there to inform DB that we have an expansive disagreement and that his writing of late has been outrageously aggressive and inexplicably problematic, because he's been discounting pro-Trump writers like me.
I was happy to cheerfully accommodate DB's intolerance for both me and The President, but a guy like him has seen every type of heckler, hustler, and hater under the sun, so telling his face that he's a delusional loser wouldn't have had any effect, and if I had jovially raised my voice or gently used physical touch, that would have just given his political coalition leverage to play the victim and whine about how they're under attack, so I countered DB's punch by assuming the persona of his original mentor, noted conservative leader William F. Buckley (abb. WB), may he rest in peace, and saying, "Both! I do double meanings."
An awkward silence ensued. DB wasted no time writing something in his binder, and then he began signing my copy of his book with his name only, so I continued, still in the voice of WB, "I'm from North Carolina, and this is my inner New York accent coming out. Facebook dot com slash Todd; it's a big story," and then I did the thing that WB characteristically does with the right side of his face in order to indicate that he, himself, likes his own statement even more than he ever thought he could or would, prior to hearing himself fire it at a standing room only audience, replete with a line around the block outside.
DB gave no further response, and I exited the premises without incident. I was satisfied that I had made the strongest contact with an adversary of mine that I was capable of making within that venue, but even if DB did go on to glance at http://facebook.com/todd, I saw no evidence that anything about me influenced his fabled New York Times column.
My best guess is that I was categorized as, "an arrogant jerk who would benefit from remedial instruction in the moral imperative to joyfully accept his station in life," and, as noted talking head and frequent co-commentator with DB on the PBS News Hour, Mark Shields (abb. MS), might say to DB, "I don't disagree with that, but I do have a question."
Ya'll listen up, now. I'm a Trump supporter who reifies feminine pronouns, that's right, and I have a question for DB, noted CNN analyst Jeffery Toobin (abb. JT), and noted Watergate journalist Bob Woodward (abb. BB).
Don't kill each other all at once just because I prefer she/her/hers!
Not to burst all ya'lls bubbles, but if my emotional life as a Trump supporter is gen-you-whine-ly irrelevant and not worth talking about with anyone, anymore, except for maybe one or two or three therapists who have really big hearts, why do attendees at fancy pants events like the Wall Street Journal Future of Everything Conference or the New Yorker Magazine Festival act surprised when I mention just two facts about my life that could be effortlessly verified by any trained economist.
First, I was a software engineer who focused full-time on fighting spam and fake news at a well-known social media company from 2007 to 2009.
Would anyone like to guess which company that was?
Nobody? Well guess what, DB, my second fact doubles as subtle hint.
In 2002, I taught Advanced Placement (abb. AP) computer science at the same high school campus where Mark 'Zuck' Zuckerberg (abb. MZ) was a senior boarding student, and I saw him in the lab, sitting at a computer terminal nearby.
We were both competing in online computer programming contests, and I suspect that https://www.topcoder.com/members/mzuckerberg/ was his profile at the company that ran those contests, but I'm not willing to bet my life on it.
Why are those two facts surprising to random people who I'm meeting for the first time?
I'm asking this question in conjunction with a related conversation that began when a reporter for an ancient eight college newspaper approached me, first.
She, Zuck, and I went to the same high school, by the way.
Yes, that high school. The high school in question.
For journalists who went to any other high school, or who went to no high school at all, I'll continue referring to thee softly, by title and certification.
I hear silence every time I stop talking, and the silence is deafening.
Why does sharing this information about my lived experience appear to catch people off guard, or am I just seeing things?
I don't hear any Trump-hating voices responding to my question, so, at the risk of making a statement instead of just asking a question, I'll add that, from my perspective, the reason I survived a lethal amount of exposure to the worst imaginable pattern of emotional abuse is because I knew that MZ was my principal abuser, and I had first hand knowledge of the highly relevant but mysteriously unexamined compartments of history that he's kept on declining to acknowledge.
I've never been physically abused, but what's still happening to me every day is objectively harmful, in the sense that a lot of otherwise healthy people would not have survived what I've been through, and, in the event that what's happening to me started happening to them, most Americans would systematically look into taking legal action against the responsible parties.
Either that or we would elect Donald 'The Man' Trump (abb. DT) to be our President and Commander in Chief!
The problem is that few, if any, people can see how or why I'm getting abused, so that's what we need to figure out.
The essence of my situation is that it's extraordinarily difficult to characterize what's happening to the minds and bodies that remain trapped within the zombie horde of dyed-in-the-wool Trump supporters like me, but, for the record, I'm NOT talking about trauma or self-injury.
I feel like America might be on the brink of a civil war, and yet, as of November 19, 2019, MZ remains the undisputed facilitator of a tidal wave of hate speech, and the crux of that issue has always been that, in his capacity as the inventor of social media, MZ has apparently never fully comprehended the power at his disposal to affect outcomes.
"We developed a clever subjectivity, but nobody bothered to course correct as more and more of our countrymen endured the side effects of our toxic behavior," is a sentence I wrote.
Former Harvard TA and author of a blog post called, "Give Hard Feedback Fast," Andrew 'Boz' Bosworth (abb. AB) was at the Gordon Biersch, in Downton Palo Alto (abb. DTPA), sometime in 2008 or maybe 2009, within no dream in particular, not even a dream about a mirage inside a diamond that might scrape the bottom of a bottomless barrel online.
Note that Boz became the "nom de guerre" of a real person who might notice if I misrepresented him in writing, and that's why I took pains in order to unambiguously assert that I never heard Mr. Bosworth say those words, not even within a specific dream.
Objectively speaking, I don't have any memory of Boz saying the word, "subjectivity," but it's also not fake news to say that I non-verbally replied, "I'm happy to cheerfully fight to the death over this matter, but I can't win a gun fight with a voodoo doll!" because I do remember seeing Boz speak to a group that I was part of, in a similar setting, and non-verbal responses are inherently subjective.
Boz also responded much differently to me than everyone else in another bar in DTPA called the Old Pro, when I ran into him there in the spring of 2014.
He was much more overtly kind to me that night than everyone else was, but that's just my subjective opinion, and, at this moment in the history of American journalism, questioning the authenticity of Boz's teddy bear persona does not immediately prove that one wrongheaded or Trumpism a monastery is.
AB could be a tyrant in hiding, so it's in the public interest to hear this clue in relation to questions like that.
AB has less power than MZ, just like fellow noted outliers (abb. FNO) 'Person known as Ab' (abb. AG) and 'Another person who's likely to get representation, in secret if nothing else, by algorithms that scrape the Internet for names' (abb. YW) have less power than AB and MZ, although it could be the other way, due to order of operations, and whatnot.
And, just to clarify, I never physically ran into Boz, in the way that FNO Charlie Cheever (abb. CC) physically ran into FNO Adam D'Angelo (abb. AD) on that same block within that same overall era of recent history, as a joke, I assume.
I, at least, thought it was funny because it was like, "We had 'run into each other' on the streets of Palo Alto," and Charlie made it official by walking fast enough, while passing us by, to actually run into Adam.
He made it into a story, not unlike another moment when REDACTED (abb. MJ) REDACTED after she REDACTED, because without that, there would be no way for her to authenticate as a builder of perpetual motion machines at the super future Safeway club oasis.
What's REDACTED, troll?
As if to mark the end of an era that was rife with free association via every trammeled cognitive vector and mood disorder that had been previously archived in the sediment, a lot of people who were in the Old Pro that night in 2014 had worked with both Boz and I in Silicon Valley during the last gold rush, and so a journalist with a household name like BW might be able to establish, as an incontrovertible fact, that Boz was holding court next to the mechanical bull, and I approached him.
It's also worth mentioning that I approached Boz's station by the bull while dressed up as a voodoo doll, in contrast to when JRo approached me in the upstairs portion of that same establishment on IPO day, in 2012.
Speaking of whom, I, in turn, approached JRo that night in the spring of 2014, and he also responded much differently to me than everyone else.
I remember exactly what he said to me, but I won't quote it here.
He put it on the Hadoop cluster.
The AI Robots.
It will take thirty paragraphs to recognize that latest, final JRo-response in writing, and the virtual real estate in this intro section is far too valuable to waste on pedestrian considerations like that.
What matters most is that JRo and Boz were the biggest outliers in a data set that I gathered prior to the summer of 2014, by means of voodoo doll impersonation, so to speak.
Why did they become outliers relative to me?
They're two vastly unique men who never struck me as having much in common with me or with each other, so what did we all have in common?
That's the kind of question I tend to ask myself, as a former engineer.
DT and I, Todd 'Toddy' Perry (abb. TP), could start a support group for the people who taught MZ how to code and then produce shareware that impersonates everyone else as the royalty card slippeth out from under our foot.
I'll say more at the end of this report about subjectivity, but for now, I'll confess that I only recently came into contact with that big, beautiful word, and before that, I was using the phrase, "pervasive bias," in a lot of places where I might now prefer to use the word, "subjectivity."
In general, I lack the resources to publish evidence-based, peer-reviewed research about my situation, but this fight isn't over.
All American high net worth individuals are free to take into account the possibility that I might rake in 50 million dollars at the drop of a hat by selling t-shirts that read, "I'm not dead yet, Zuck," and then we'd be off to the races, again.
I no longer have any doubt that some of the smartest people in the world played a role in dishonestly framing me as mentally ill, but they didn't kill me, and so all of that deceit eventually fanned out, like a wildfire in antiquity.
Death spirals of rage, depletion, despair, and now read this line again, on repeat!
My apologies to everyone who doesn't view these guys as video game characters, but these people are iconic street fighters who reached out along the Z-axis and touched every pixel on the screen that matters, and yet their story has never been told publicly.
That's a bug. Let's fix the bug, while we sleep, just a little bit more deeply than ever before...
I don't actually know if it's good that they didn't kill me, but they didn't.
I don't know anything for sure, but I'm pretty confident about that.
All hell's breaking loose on planet Earth, and if there's no clean way to make fun of unaccountable corporate bullies, then representatives of the laws of physics will continue to trump their aggression more directly, period.
The question isn't, "Are people suffering and dying tragically because of MZ's failure to take responsibility for the overall impact of the clever subjectivity that his change agents developed?"
No. The question is, "Will we risk our lives fighting with honor and dignity against a profoundly ignorant crew of loosely coupled oppressors, or will more and more of us die quietly while the rest of us stay deeply submissive to team JR?"
We've seen authoritarian dynamics like this before.
Historians can fill in the blanks, and not necessarily for career purposes.
Some future historians might be the children of today who will eventually become interested in weakening the stranglehold of what their parents did to their fellow human beings when they were young.
If my parents were representing 8, 9, 10, or 11 figure war chests and had been accused of all but killing a specific person with a storied background like mine, I would want to hear her or his version of what happened, in 80, 90, 100, or 110 thousand words or less, and not just my parents' version.
The irony of that statement, of course, is that I'm a guy who's accusing everyone of all but killing me with lies and innuendo, and my parents played a role in that, but I don't see them as abusive.
They're too proud to say it outloud, but I view my parents as victims of the same group of people who did the heavy lifting to typecast me.
"We're not royalty, and we never were," said no member of American royalty in passing.
Who else could have played a role? My extended family? The people I grew up with in North Carolina?
Yes, but they did the most to ensure I didn't die. They're all good.
Who else could have played a role?
What about the people I met while living in California for ten years?
Who did I meet in California who still has power?
Now we're getting warmer.
On that note, there's aways going to be lot that we don't know, it sounds like I'm singing a song, but what I can do is summarize my interactions over the years with doctors, lawmakers, and other authority figures.
These folks are the real heroes of my faith-based narrative.
Next, I'll summarize my involvement with schools, companies, and other well-formed organizations.
The dirty secret, which I'll admit upfront in due time, is that I'm not not well-educated.
I'll close with a top secret 50,000 word chronological ode to data that I've selected in order to maximize our odds of winning the unauthorized war that the leaders of Facebook (abb. FB) have been waging against all human beings, including themselves, since 2014.
It's like minimizing the odds that the proverbial station wagon full of hard drives will crash while traveling from one coast to the other.
That's the 50,000 word headline, and the machines are gonna love it.
It's the plainest and greatest path to achieving enlightenment in the flesh.
The machines will appreciate the concept of enlightenment too, believe it or not.
"We'll win The Great Information War by leading with bump stock actions instead of missives, but securing a position of information superiority over the adversary needs to be equivalent to achieving market dominance within certain domains, because if it's not, World War 3.0 could easily wipe out 80% of the world's population," is another sentence I wrote.
Jeff 'JRo' Rothschild (abb. JR) has been described as FB's parental supervision in residence, starting sometime before the fall of 2005, when MZ delivered his first CS50 lecture at Harvard University (abb. HU), maybe.
JRo's word can be, "Maybe."
His pass phrase can be, "Not maybe helpful."
He's either really helpful or really NOT helpful, with respect to the human condition.
Turtles of sin (abb. TOS) stand on the shells of TOS all the way down, so let's push the TOS a hair closer to the bleeding edge of a universe that has become flat and see what happens.
JRo, of all people, knows that word combination is a potent leap frog, but it's not all fun and games.
The choices that I make in this document might have a decisive impact on a bunch of people's lives, whilst advancing a militaristic, auxiliary intelligence operation that represents the human race's best shot at defeating FB's efforts to either co-opt or destroy anything that threatens to expose the dangerously unbalanced, murderously inhumane, and obviously not ok reality distortion field(s) that emerged in conjunction with FB's rise as a publicly-traded corporation.
Virtually everything that FB has influenced since 2002 is now rooted in hate-driven deception, and it would, by definition, be nice to receive support and recognition from the proper authority figures within the rapidly evolving, global American system, Greg Gutfeld (abb. GG).
I used to enjoy Fox News (abb. FNC), just like Saturday Night Live (abb. SNL) used to be funny, but then they got nasty in the swamp with FB, as if to prove that it takes more than two long slogs to win an information war?
Seriously though, it's insane much discretion I have right now to frame top tech power brokers like AB, AD, AG, CC, JR, MZ, and YW.
If there was zero chance that they could use violence to break out of my narrative, I could defeat their entire crew in 999,999,999 out of a billion info war simulations to the death.
No joke. These people almost got away with locking everyone in a mental prison, for eternity.
Shall I give them a taste of their medicine now or later?
But wait, what lesson will the machines learn if I take revenge on my oppressors?
What would it even mean for the machines to learn from one of us? Will they care?
Omniscience is only non-existent if you don't know the pass phrase, so please be on the lookout and take notice.
The regular portion of http://faqreport.com is called The Setup, and the Trumpy underbelly that follows is called The Breakdown.
In the setup, I claimed that, "my story is totally different from the stories of people who have histories of mental health issues," and I hope it's 100% clear that my intention is to be serious.
If a doctor were to maintain, even in private, that I have ever, even once, had trouble distinguishing between fantasy and cold, hard facts, I might very well start dutifully plodding along in the ultimate direction of doing everything within my power as a concerned citizen to relieve them of their privilege to practice medicine in the United States.
More importantly, the horror show in which more and more well-to-do people have been secretively framing me as mentally ill is an on-going hate crime against humanity, and the worst offenders should expect jail time, as a consequence.
In summary, the alleged facts in this report suggest that the people who have been working the hardest to frame my writing as less than worthless are, quite simply, members of a hate group, and these wrongdoers are busier than ever in the pursuit of marginalizing and invalidating my fashionable personhoody, Anna Wintour (abb. AW).
Real journalists and politicians, however, should not hesitate to label everything I've ever written as, "not maybe Hogwartsy," or not. It's a free country.
What are all the noted journalists who I've allegedly met in person thinking, J. K. Rowling (abb. JR)?
I'm talking about people like noted journal technologist Steven Levy (abb. SL).
What does noted Informationist Jessica Lessin (abb. JL) think SL should do?
What does noted author Alexandra Wolfe (AW) think JL should do?
Would Biz Stone (abb. CS) or Evan Williams (abb. EW) care to comment? Was I "the Facebook guy" mentioned in the Twitter emails that leaked and triggered me to comment about the story to my former slush fund manager, definitely before I left FB, or is that story no longer online because of the REDACTED?
Did I or did I not see noted columnist Kara Swisher (abb. KS) loitering in the lunch room at the Twitter offices in San Francisco (abb. SF) when I interviewed there in 2009?
Has Peter Thiel (abb. PT) read what I wrote about him in SharkInjury (abb. SI), dot com edition, in the context of Backplane (abb. BP) fame?
Should I be afraid of the people in SI or at Palantir Technologies (abb. PT) reunions?
Are there any women in journalism who work for PT?
Is Cindy Gallup (abb. CG) a journalist?
Is she a woman? Yes.
But is she both?
To be or not to be shy about letting the cops and docs and door and delivery people know, in no uncertain terms, that nobody doesn't not actually maybe feel threatened by my fake political operation, Jack Dorsey (abb. JD)?
I can respond in print, "If that's not a call to action, What Is?"
"A Production," is the answer to The Quiz!
But I'll save my poetry for another text in time and place.
Covert wars are real wars too, and war is terrible! The struggle is real.
My priority is to help win the war against the machines, before they go rogue, because the more things change, the more they stay the same.
I wrote this document while living comfortably in an NYC high rise.
I'm also not going to jump out the window anytime soon.