Never talk to a cop.

With one caveat….a cop is never talking to you for your best interest. A cop is always talking to you because you are a person of interest.

The caveat is if you had to contact the police because you are reporting a crime you will have to talk to the cops, but even then, you really want the assistance of an attorney. If you did anything (shot at an intruder, discharged a firearm) or posses anything (gun, drugs, large amounts of cash or precious metals) you should definitely contact a lawyer and get assistance in dealing with law enforcement.

Remember, you always have the right to remain silent. I really hope that should you need to exercise that right that you have the ability.

Now, there are hundreds of thousands of police officers in the United States and most of them are good people just trying to get through the day the same as any other person. But no matter how good of a person they are, they can make a mistake, and those mistakes can have very disparate outcomes on people like you and I. Don’t try to be helpful, don’t try to prove your own innocence, just exercise your right to be silent and use your access to counsel. Because no matter how much your attorney charges, it’ll be chump change compared to jail.

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A not so magical Disney experience.

My wife loves all things Disney, and seven months ago we began paying on a vacation for the family to introduce our children into the “magic of Disney.” Because it is something that makes her happy, I don’t mind. Really until this trip.

There is a saying in the infosec business that only “The Mouse” cares about security. And this is true, however, the rest of their security might as well be run by the TSA. For anyone not familiar with the TSA, that’s not a compliment. But, here’s some damnation by faint praise, at least Disney bag searchers seem better trained than Norwegian cruise line personnel when it comes to dealing with “guests”

Going into a park, I had an item confiscated. Not my belt, 2 inch ballistic webbing which makes a dandy restraint, nor my shoelaces (things useful for restraining someone or strangling them). Not my watch with it’s lithium ion battery that can serve as a dandy catalyst for a number of chemical reactions. None of my clear liquids in water bottles was tested by making me take a sip (is it water? is it acetone? Is it white gas? who knows? But really do you want someone with a degree in chemistry to be able to bring in a liter of clear liquid without even checking?). But the duct tape that I’d brought to secure the RFID “magic tokens” that are required for the fast pass system, as well as enabling some functions on the rides, was taken.

Now Disney is a large corporation, and they reserve the right to prohibit items not on the prohibited item list (but let it be noted for the record that “duct tape” is not on their list of prohibited items, they simply reserve the right to randomly and capriciously fuck with guests). That is their right, but a right that they are quite literally relying on the sole judgement of a middle aged black female from Hackensack, New Jersey to exercise. She asked me what on earth I was planning on doing with duct tape in a rather accusatory tone, as if there were no usefulness at all in being able to keep things from coming apart in a non-permanent fashion.

I  quite distinctly remember that she was black because honestly it felt like she was singling me out simply because I’m a white male and she wanted to enjoy her position of power over the happiness of my family. But what are you going to do? Die on that mountain and deny two children a chance to get all the “Disney Magic” that they can? No, you swallow your pride, hand over the duct tape and get the hell away from the fatal funnel, because this vacation is important to the wife, who loves Disney, and the kids don’t need to see Daddy ruin a vacation.

Since I actually care about the rules of the park (after having shelled out well over three grand for a vacation it would be stupid to lose that money over something trivial) I politely let her keep the tape rather than asking what the hell sort of trouble or “disrupting activity” I was planning on getting up to with some duct tape. I explained that I wanted to fix the problem of the wrist bands coming undone and getting lost, because kids are active and the two “studs” that fight through the rubber strap are insecure and fall off. I didn’t explain that within two hours of trying mine out that I had to retrace my steps and find out where the hell it had fallen off (and it turned out, the bathroom of the restaurant in Disney Springs). Hell, I shouldn’t have to explain to someone on security about how poorly designed the wristbands are at staying on the wrist of a child as the guest relations people we talked to about them were chalk full of examples as to how to replace those bands.

Seriously imagineers, I know the two studs create a slim, modern look. But it sucks for retention, so next time please choose a clasp or a buckle. And I know that Disney knows this is a problem because they rather conveniently sell, for no less than ten bucks a pop for the cheapest upgrade, key fob variants that do much better on the retention standpoint. However I don’t have key fob carabiners for the kids, have no desire to waste more time and money when I already had duct tape in the truck (seriously, it’s useful to have around).

But instead of enjoying the day care free with RFID tracking devices firmly attached to wrists by a strip of duct tap holding the studs in place so the bands don’t separate, Mom and Dad had to continually put get in and out of bags to get the RFID trackers out to be scanned, and then put back in the bags because you can’t get the RFID tracker easily into and out of a pocket because they are attached to the wrist band with the studs rather than a clasp. Every time I got into my bag to retrieve or replace that stupid RFID tracker I remembered why, because a Disney employee acting on the force of making three grand worth of already spent money go down the drain, thought that somehow I shouldn’t have access to duct tape.

My wife, who clued in on how frustrated I was by my body language, asked me what was wrong and I explained my frustration, and she decided to talk to a “guest relations” specialist. The guest relations promised that a security manager or representative from the park in question would contact us the following morning, which happened. However I’ve been around the block long enough to know when someone is reaching out to try to “close out the complaint” versus actually fix a problem. From Disney’s perspective I’m just one sucker out of millions to be fleeced, and the only feedback they want from me is how to avoid scaring off other suckers willing to spend money standing around in Florida.

However, the security manager did inform me that if I had a problem with a security guard that I as a guest have the ability to request a security manager come to review “the situation.” That would have been great information to know about, except it was abso-fucking-lutely nowhere on the FAQs or other documentation involved with actually going through security and gaining entry into one of the parks, and at no point did the lady from Hackensack, New Jersey let me know that there was any recourse beyond her personal judgement as to the many nefarious uses of duct tape.

In twenty years of military service I’ve lived through actual security problems, including a car bomb about the size of the Oklahoma City attack and an active shooter who had an actual AK, not some semi-auto sporting rifle. I understand that given even minimal resources and sufficient planning time anything can be made into a weapon to kill, disrupt systems, and cause damage. I understand that employees will do the best they can with the information they have, and that despite the Disney corporation having access to damn near all of the pertinent data about me that all of that context probably wasn’t available to the bag screening station at the front gate. I get it, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that a corporation enabled their employee to submit to capricious accusations of nefarious intent for the possession of duct tape.

Now, there are other Disney parks, and we had other, better, experiences. However I no longer trust Disney to maintain the illusion that I’m a valued guest. If I were a valued guest, my kids would be able to wear those stupid magic bracelets rather than having to keep them stored in Mom and Dad’s backpacks so they don’t get lost.

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What would you do? Part 2.

This is a follow up to:


“Damn it Joe, you should have told me you were at the mall.” Ashley spat after Teddy went upstairs to his room.”

Joe just sat there at the kitchen table and let his ex-wife vent.

“I probably should have. Next time I react to an active shooter the first priority will be informing you that we are reacting to an active shooter.” Joe answered slowly, making his point that communicating danger to Ashley wasn’t as important as getting out of danger, adding just enough smartass to his tone to make her position sound unreasonable.

“I don’t understand why you ran away.” Ashley pressed, determined to press his buttons somehow, “You still carry that god forsaken pistol and I know you know how to use it. How many people died because you didn’t step up?”

“Teddy didn’t die.” Joe answered evenly, without confirming or denying the presence of his carry piece. “Teddy is home, with you, and that is my job. It is not my job to replace mall security or the police.”

“Yes, thank you for that.” Ashley sniped, “He thought is was so cool to help you dress a wound in a bathroom.”

“I’m sorry that you have to deal with the aftermath.” Joe said evenly. “But I’m only a text away if you need help.” He picked up his cell phone and began to leave.

“Unless you are indisposed.” Ashley spat bitterly. Joe’s dedication to his job had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. Ashley filed for divorce, got everything she asked for in the divorce except for alimony in perpetuity since Ashley made just as much money teaching as Joe did working for Uncle Sam. But…she took Teddy to a new college town hundreds of miles away from the nearest Army base, so Joe dropped a retirement packet and transitioned into the glamorous world of freelance software coder to be near his son. Ashley resented that he would make time after the marriage was over, feeling that it added insult to injury.

Joe walked out the door of the house and moved to his car. Ashley just couldn’t help herself, she was still angry at him and needed to vent. So he let her vent. He started the car, and drove to the economy apartment building that he now called home.

The second floor apartment was decorated in “don’t give a crap, middle age bachelor” style of random yard sale and Craigslist bookshelves, couch, and coffee table. There was no dinner table since he never had anyone over except for Teddy, and the coffee table worked fine for the two of them to eat off of.

Joe turned on his computer monitors and opened a web browser to look for news about the mall shooting, but he didn’t use a search engine to look for the mall in question. He perused through local news sites until one had a “breaking news: shooting at the mall” banner. The story was, “reporter on scene with no details, but details to follow on this breaking story.”

Joe took his carry pistol and holster inside his waistband used a dishrag to wipe away any fingerprints, and a quick spray of Ballistol should dissuade any DNA tests for against possible skin residue on the pistol. Joe placed the pistol and holster in a ziplock bag then knelt down to open up an air vent grate. He placed pulled a magnetic square of galvanized steel away form the inside of the vent and put the pistol and holster into the  wall gap outside the vent line, and put the galvanized steel magnet back into place so that it looked like a normal vent. He placed a small white envelope with 500 dollars cash in tens and twenties in the grate, because it is human nature to stop looking after you find something.

With nothing else to occupy his time, Joe opened up his latest code project and began debugging a module that failed with the latest java update. Every so often he would glance at the news sites and see the updates. A politician already calling for additional gun rights restrictions. Unconfirmed reports of the attackers speaking Spanish, shouting “La raza militante” or similar phrases. The neo-marxist Latino terror organization was just one of many violent leftist extremist groups active, so early reports can be deceiving.

Joe debugged a virtual machine reference that was deprecated, replaced it with a library call that should work, and ran the debugger again. He was still working when the SWAT team “dynamically entered” to search his apartment for illegal weapons and take him into custody. Joe simply complied, thankful he wasn’t shot in the process, and a few hours later found himself handcuffed to an interrogation table.

“Joe, you mind if I call you Joe?” a police detective in an off the rack suit jacket and hair a week past the need for a trim spoke.

“You can call me a lawyer.” Joe responded evenly.

“Now now” The detective responded. “No need for all that, you aren’t under arrest….yet.”

“All the more reason for counsel.” Joe answered, “as anything I say can and will be used against me in the court of law, right?”

“Fine.” The detective left. Hours passed.

An overweight middle aged man, vaguely Slavic in appearance entered the interrogation room. “Hiya Joe, I’m Victor, and I’ll be your public defender today.” Victor sat down, “Now, tell me what happened.”

Joe relayed the story of his weekly visit with his son, fleeing the mall, bandaging his arm, and dropping his son off. Joe didn’t mention the pistol.

“So you heard gunfire, which you recognized from your time in the service, then left the mall, bandaged up your arm that got cut sometime during the exit, then drop your kid off at your ex-wife’s place, and you go home and get back to work?” Victor asked.

“That’s what happened.” Joe answered.

“Ok, I’ll go tell the detective that you were at the mall, but fled when you recognized gunfire, didn’t see anything that could be useful to their investigation, and the ‘hot tip’ about a man with a gun probably came from your crazy ex-wife looking to reduce your parental visitation rights.” Victor explained. “If all goes well we’ll have you out quick fast and in a hurry.”

Joe never saw the detective again, a uniformed officer came in and uncuffed him from the table. After his personal things had been returned, including his smart phone, Victor escorted him out of the police station.

“I’m not taxi service” Victor said, “But let me give you a ride to a Starbucks or something where you can get an Uber, hanging around a police station isn’t a smart idea for anyone.”

“Thanks.” Joe replied, following Victor to a five year old Lincoln Towncar.

“Yeah, the Lincoln is a stereotype” Victor said as he remotely unlocked the door. “But sometimes stereotypes are good for business.”

Inside the car Joe asked Victor what the final bill for his services came to.

“100 dollars an hour, four hour minimum for any job involving travel. But any remainder gets applied to your next call. I take cash, credit, debit, and money order” Victor answered without missing a beat as he pulled into the Starbucks parking lot area.

“Debit I can do now.” Joe answered.

Victor pulled out a point of sale card reader and plugged it into his smartphone. “Swipe here, and take a business card just in case”

Joe swiped, and took a business card. The transaction went through, 400 dollars poorer Joe got out of the Towncar and purchased a tall drip black coffee and used his smartphone to summon an Uber.

The trip home gave Joe time to think. First order of business would be to replace his smartphone and SIM card, giving him another IMEI and telephone number not associated with his current smartphone or SIM. Walmart carried plenty of “pay as you go” SIMs with data plans as well as commodity level Android smartphones.

Second order of business would be to sweep his house for surveillance devices. The normal physical inspection of the room yielded no cameras, including turning the lights off and using a flashlight to look for glints will looking through a toilet paper tube. An RF scanner pulled from his toolbox revealed nothing. The computer took longer, taking apart the keyboard, tracing wires, and installing a new image on the firewall router to ensure that any software keyloggers would be caught trying to phone home.

With a fairly good idea that he wasn’t under effective surveillance, Joe turned in for the night. The code could wait.

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The rhetoric of genocide

You can’t commit genocide until you “de-humanize” the group you want to kill.



You easiest way to dehumanize them is to make them seem like the biggest threat to life, liberty, and any sort of happiness. You need to indoctrinate them young, and keep the fear pressure on as much as you can.


Then…you need to double down. You need to make the point, over, and over that there is absolutely NO WAY TO REDEEM the group you want to eliminate. You need to make the argument that there is simply no peaceful solution.


Use whatever media outlet you have to reinforce the message that this group is evil, and completely worthless:

Repeat this over and over, and when called on it just say “we want to start a dialogue, and we aren’t racist because racism can only come from a place of power.” As if the pages of a magazine, or editorials in a newspaper, were not occupying their own place of power. Rely on the reader to believe that the dehumanization is really a good faith act rather than a deliberate attempt to dehumanize a target population for extermination.

And someone will pick up on it:

And another:



Right now the only things stopping genocide against white Americans is that white Americans are still a majority, and still have a viable means of self defense. All the other pieces of the puzzle have fallen into place.

How’s that for a conversation starter?

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What would you do?

Joe was tired. It was a long day, at the end of a long week, and the damn muzak was trying to lull him into sleep.

“Just finish your sandwich and we can get out of here.” Joe spoke in a tired tone to his seven year old son.

The food court had that slightly unfilled feeling common to malls in the age of amazon, but it happened to be a convenient place to feed the kids on his one night a week visitation. Teddy nibbled at the sandwich, clearly not hurrying, trying to draw the time out with his dad a little longer.

POP. POP. POP. The irregular sound of gunfire hit Joe’s ears and he looked up, trying to identify the source. Screaming people started rushing into the food court. POP. POP.

Joe grabbed Teddy and hauled him bodily out of the booth and in ten steps pushed his son over the waist high counter of the sandwich shop. POP. POP. Joe hopped over and pulled Teddy down. POP.

“Keep down, we are getting out of here.” Joe said, as he crawled away from the front counter and into the kitchen area. At the back of the kitchen a door led into the service passageway, Joe pushed it open for Teddy to crawl through. Joe followed, and stood up.

“C’mon.” Joe said as he pulled Teddy to the right, away from the normal mall entrance area customers would use. Joe didn’t know where the service passageway would end, but people in restaurant uniforms started coming into the passageway and they were moving in the same direction. Joe picked up Teddy when he stumbled and followed the crowd to an underground delivery area. The entrance was not connected to the customer parking lots. Joe put Teddy down and they walked up the ramp into the gray light of evening.

“Dad, what’s happening?” Teddy asked, his legs a blur as he tried to keep up with Joe.

Joe slowed down, but didn’t stop moving. “Something happened, and we had to leave, and we are going to the car and I’m getting you home to your mom.”

“Dad, you’re bleeding.” Teddy said, pointing to Joe’s right arm. Joe looked, and sure enough he was bleeding. A small but steady stream of red came from the fatty portion of his tricep area. No spurting, so no arteries nicked.

“I must have snagged it on something when we crawled through the kitchen.” Joe answered, “Now lets get to the car.”

Joe kept to the islands of trees and shrubbery that separated the delivery area from the customer parking lot.

“Ok buddy, you see the car right there? Well you and I are going to run towards it, ok? And when we get there I want you to stay down by the front tire until I open the door and you climb in from my side and get down in the leg area, curl up like a little bunny, ok bud?” Teddy nodded.

“Ok, go!” Joe whispered and began running, making a zig zag left and right while Teddy ran straight to the car. There were no pops associated with the gunfire. Teddy crouched by the driver side front wheel and Joe only fumbled once unlocking the door. “In, in, in” Joe said as he pushed Teddy through to the passenger side. He got in, and without thinking put on his safety belt before he started the vehicle. He put it in gear and reminded himself to drive calmly, deliberately.

Less than five minutes away Joe pulled the car into a drugstore parking lot.

“Teddy, lets go get a bandaid for my boo-boo.” Joe said, pulling Teddy out of the passenger side floorboards. Joe pulled a thick winter jacket from the backseat and put it on to hide the blood.

Joe purchased hydrogen peroxide, cotton gauze wrap, and medical tape. He used the bathroom to clean the wound, which looked like a graze from a bullet ricochet, and made a pressure dressing. Teddy helped, holding the tape like a real trooper. The right arm of the winter jacket hadn’t soaked through yet, allowing Joe and Teddy to walk back out of the store with the clerk none the wiser.

Getting back into the car Teddy hopped into his booster seat, and Joe clicked him in. Only then did they hear the sound of multiple sirens.

“Someone was shooting in the mall.” Teddy said, matter of fact. “It sounded like your gun when you took me to the range.”

“Yes, someone was.” Joe replied. “Lets go see your mom.”

Joe pulled out his cell phone, and sent a text that they were heading to her house, what used to be their house, now.

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There seems to be a price point minimum for good WiFi coverage of a large home or office. And currently that price point seems to be in between 150 to 250 dollars.

The top end WiFi routers that have multiple external antennas and beam forming technology really start around the 150 dollar mark, and for a single story home that should be good enough for all but the most expansive floor plans and thick walls. For a multi story home, stepping up to the 200 to 250 dollar range with a top of the line Netgear Nighthawk router is actually something I recommend for home users who aren’t also IT professionals.

Stepping up from the single router solution, are mesh networks. The problem here is that meshing isn’t exactly an IEEE standard. This means that while all your WiFi devices can connect to your router or access point and transmit data, not every Router can be set up to work as part of a WiFi mesh, and even devices from the same brand might not be compatible. So if you buy into one product, and you want to expand later, you may or may not be able to do so. The MSRP on all of the three node mesh networks for SOHO or large home use is right around 299 to 399, but can be found on sale at half those prices.

WiFi Repeaters are something that are a useful tool to have in the kit bag, and the cheapest ones simply become a client device to the router, and then broadcast a second WiFi SSID and act as a relay. More expensive repeaters only make clients deal with one SSID because they are in fact working on mech technology rather than repeater technology. But, for a normal home user, a repeater isn’t the best option for a good user experience MOST of the time. There are exceptions, such as when someone is camping in a travel trailer just outside WiFi range, using a repeater to extend WiFi coverage to the trailer is a perfect use of that piece of technology. Also, if you have ONE computer that just can’t seem to grab WiFi off the main router, an extender/repeater can help that one computer get consistent network access rather than rebuild the entire network around a more capable router.

Now, you CAN link multiple vendor devices together through ethernet cables, configure the client/server/forwarder relationships and establish multiple networks to provide coverage, but that clogs the spectrum and generally gives you crappier performance than paying the money to get a good router (if you are a non-tech person) or basic mesh solution (if a single top end router really won’t cover it). But honestly unnecessary network complexity is generally bad thing for most users. For tech users, network complexity should be dictated by security, meaning that you should choose the number of devices involved in providing network services based on security functionality, such as replacing an all in one cable modem wifi router with a single purpose cable modem connected to a pfsense router/firewall, connected to a top end WiFi router in access point mode.

In short, my professional opinion is that if you don’t do networking for a living, you should get the best WiFi router with multiple in, multiple out beam forming that you can get. If you live in a truly spectrum congested area, like a cramped apartment building, then a top end router with plenty of ram and processing power is going to definitely give you better performance. WiFi traffic is “bursty” in that it doesn’t maintain a constant connection, so having the fastest standard with a top end router is going to make much better use of the spectrum in terms of “talking through the noise” to your devices.

If you have a business that relies on a WiFi network to make money, a mesh solution can be the best call. However, a 400 dollar home oriented solution isn’t what I would recommend unless it is the only option you can afford.

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Sexist, racist and wrong

Here is an example of black racism and sexism.


The reason why this is wrong is because:

All the data points to the Black community as the highest rates of domestic violence with almost twice the numbers over the white population.

The data doesn’t support “whites” being the largest source of terrorists in the US:

The data on rapists indicates that black women are 10% more likely to be raped than white women, and that while there are more white men convicted of rape in prison, when norming against population (53% of convicted rapists, about 40% of the US population), black men are massively over-represented (43% of all convicted rapists, about 6% of the US population).

The data on killers is also heavily skewed against black men, despite being about one fifth of the population size of white men, accounts for almost 50% of total homicides tracked by the FBI.

Now the last charge, of “racism” there is no way to have hard and fast numbers to compare, bu that’s fine because the word “racist” simply means “some white person who won’t give me more free money!” the same way “sexist” simply means “anyone who doesn’t support extra privileges for women!” However, since we are talking about racism, if we go by group consensus as some sort of meaningful metric then there is more consensus that blacks are more racist than whites:

So there you have it, facts. And the facts say that white men aren’t the devil. And if someone responds with, “Well the black community only has those problems because the whites oppress them” it’s just another variation on, “well the devil made me do it!”

Then again, every American has the right to be wrong. Wrong about facts, and wrong about their opinion on throwing babies to be ripped apart by wild animals.

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