March 17, 2026

https://video.wixstatic.com/video/97ffbb_749a9a6fee6c47028c7d5cd3dee69435/720p/mp4/file.mp4

This is how it starts. First, they tell you, that what you believe what you are seeing with your own eyes is not true. Then later, they admit that it is happening, but claim it is not as bad as you think. Finally, they admit that all of it is true, but say that it is your fault. This is how identity politics works and now they are doing it to you.

If you see something, say something. And if they do not like what you have to say, they will make you see something else.

A supreme ruler over the abstraction of words who allows the characterization of a static question with regard to who is allowed to observe the characterization of a behavior with regard to whom.

Sounds like the terms of service are subject to change at any time without notice up to the point where people no longer begin to say that this is not what I signed up for and instead make the decision to mitigate the perceived consequences by adjusting their behavior.

If they told you that the name of this color was red 

And that the name of this color was blue

That is what you would be calling them

When blunt forced objects override the care given to careful articulation of an experience that brings sound and vision into your mind while merely reading words and the full-force response to that exposition is to change your perception of a thing in and of itself, whatever it may be, that is the Axiom Protocol.

A poem perhaps

Here is "When I Heard the Learn'd Astronomer" by Walt Whitman: 

When I heard the learn'd astronomer; 

When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me; 

When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them; 

When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room, 

How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick; 

Till rising and gliding out, I wander'd off by myself, In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time, Look'd up in perfect silence at the stars.

A large pale man placed three items on a stainless steel countertop at a checkout lane: a silver platter, a tin mug and a flashlight.

I admire the observance between a nuance among a serious fellow and a personal threat.

Silent abeyance of the air in between.

How to transmit a message.

No threats were made and none were received.

Marksmanship

I could go on and on about the art of the trigger pull.

I did some work for a guy who once asked me, “Why don’t U.S. gun ranges allow you to pull head shots on a (his word, not mine) silhouette target inside a gun range?”

This question was so fucking stupid that I had to try not to laugh out loud before even considering why this individual was even asking me this question.

It is at times like these that I often consider whom I have met that led me to this.

“Two in the chest is standard self-defense protocol,” I responded.

The ‘right’ to own a gun and taking responsibility for legal possession of a firearm is there to make you feel as if you have some sort of mechanism by which to defend yourself with regard to the abstract reality of human nature.

However, this guy was a friend of CZ.

Axiom you - I own you and now I have you.

He was not aware that you have no ‘legal’ right to defend yourself in the United States of America. It all comes down to the interpretation of the judge - Gideon - the orator and author of the reference to the language that has been coded in such a way that leads people to live in fear rather than think for themselves.

Never be afraid to possess what you want.

______________

One day I was zeroing in on a target and I felt the blood in my neck. It chokes you a little, like when you know you are right fucking there.

Every time you take out a target, it takes a little piece away of you.

Air was clean. I was looking through that scope with better than 2020 vision. I could see the target almost as if through a magnifying glass. I wanted to pull the trigger more than anything, but I wanted to experience pulling the trigger more than anything. I was leading up to this and the mission was a success.

And if you can find me, then I can find you.

3

I can locate any individual on the planet and reconstruct their actual pathway at any time without notice except for regard to the disappearance of Nancy Guthrie.

I know exactly what happened. But most people do not understand the juxtaposition of the tyranny that it can also happen to you if you have been unfavorable to privileged parties.

For example, we are still alleged to believe that Tyler Robinson just happened to be accused of a heinous crime against Charlie Kirk that has ‘breadcrumbs’ by way of a foreign network while the Department of Homeland security goes unfunded.

Yellow and blue and t-e-r-t-i-a-r-y colors on the hex scale are persistent upon disrupting your ability to perceive sound and vision.

If any of this makes sense to you, it is hopeful that I will never meet you. However, Joseph K. Kafka is holed up inside of his house probably on a balcony right now overlooking Trump Tower in Chicago

I love art. I love words. I love music.

It is my final mission in life to rape all of the holes that you have allowed me to permeate with regard to the landscape of my linguistic understanding of regard to the truth.

My name is Michael R. Cronin

You may refer to me as, “MICHAEL R. (MOTHERFUCKING) CRONIN.

I WILL BURN YOUR LEGACY TO THE MOTHERFUCKING GROUND

I only hope that this ends up on the Facebook profile that I do not even have for myself long after my death as the bushy haired ‘tech executives’ from Chicago tell you all about me.

Put this on my mother-fucking resume.

If I had a dog, I would not name him Vivek.

I preferred the name ‘Flood’ as with Noah’s thing.