While most of the British Aristocracy is feverishly trying to find out who their Fathers and Mothers really are, the FBI is investigating a woman or women who are attempting to impersonate Susie Wiles, President Trump's Chief of Staff.
This theme of figuring out who is who and what is what is expanding tremendously over the past several months, perhaps because millions more Americans and Europeans and people in Africa and South America are figuring out how governmental services corporations "representing" their governments have impersonated them for profit.
We suggest that the FBI, an Agency that started out fighting crimes like interstate alcohol smuggling and counterfeiting, and which ended up trying to frame average Americans for speaking up at School Board meetings, should better spend its time and money investigating the impersonation of 320 million Americans--- an international crime appearing to have happened here at least three times to every man, woman, and baby in the country.
Of course, that's 960 million cases and they still have to bring even one case against Jeffry Epstein or Hunter Biden or Joe Biden or Nancy Pelosi or Hillary Clinton, or.....perhaps Interpol could help them out?
Whoever is impersonating Susie Wiles should throw in with Tina Fey, who most Americans would recognize as Sarah Palin any day.
It's increasingly difficult to tell where our sympathies should lie. Perhaps we should all run screaming into the bushes and create a few hundred pseudo-personalities just for fun.
The IRS already created an Anna Maria Riezinger who was running a rum distillery in Barbados; why not a brain surgeon in Berlin? A Creole fan dancer from New Orleans? Perhaps Sarah Palin could impersonate me and I could impersonate Tina Fey.
The possibilities are endless.
Once the FBI got sent down this rabbit hole, all we'd hear from them would be a bill once a year stuffed into a Happy Hanukkah card.
At almost 70, our parents are mostly dead, ditto the kids we went to school with; we've outlived our doctors, our pets, and we are lucky if we haven't outlived at least some of our children.
Look around at age 70 and almost nobody knows, for sure, who you are. The concern you generated from family members as a child has evaporated and the notoriety that plagued us as young people, too. Nobody cares who you sleep with or what insane thoughts you might entertain.
And every year that goes by, you become more invisible. Some people resent this, and others of us consider this the bonus we never expected.
Just ask the majority of famous Hollywood stars from two or three decades ago. Unless they have a very distinctive voice like Sam Elliot, nobody knows for sure who they are.
My Great-Granddaughters assure me that old people all look the same, except some are more bald than others. Crooked toes might assist in identifying us, "if they wear sandals".
Once the three primary Legal Fiction Public Trusts "representing" us, plus all the various "derivative" shell corporations styled as Special Purpose Vehicles and Public Transmitting Utilities and so on are identified and categorized, we can ask the FBI and any affiliated Federal departments and agencies what --- exactly --- have they done to protect our "persons" as required by Article IV of the various Federal Constitutions.
There is one comfort. A four year-old acquaintance of mine tells me that aged bureaucrats smell bad, but other old people smell nice, "like laundry soap and flowers!"
She's probably a better detective than the FBI.
Some day I will have the courage to ask her if I smell like an Old Bureaucrat or not.
As we have been "dead" and invisible for most of our lives, "missing, presumed lost at sea", and as we are becoming more invisible with every passing day, we are in a more-than-good position to serve as Secret Agents, Double Agents, even Triple Agents.
We could rat out the FBI to the FBI. And then rat them out to the NSA. Nobody would notice us until it was too late.
If we got caught, we could just stare into space in an empty way and say something like, "Carl, is that you? I thought you passed away." Or leave a sentence hanging in space, like "I thought they...."
Drives young people batty. They hang on every word, wondering what they missed, the suspicion that they didn't miss anything commingles with the suspicion that you were about to utter the most profound words of wisdom in human history, and it's all for naught, because you forgot what you were going to say.
Any FBI Agent however irritated would jot you down as a dementia case and slink away discomfited, never imagining that you had him pegged down to his brand of aftershave and size ten shoes.
A more than passing familiarity with old people, including myself, has convinced me that we all have rare talents and abilities and being invisible has its advantages.
Maybe it's time for The Gray Brigade, an active quasi-militant counter-mercenary organization specializing in impersonating impersonators. If anyone comes around asking about one of our pseudonyms, we can just hand them an urn full of ashes, and they will believe us. And go away.
Think of me on June 6th, dreaming up some wild escapade involving gold bars and wheelchairs.
Granna (Anna Von Reitz)
