Aile Series Quotes

Lynum had plenty of information to share. The FBI's files on Mario Savio, the brilliant philosophy student who was the spokesman for the Free Speech Movement, were especially detailed. Savio had a debilitating stutter when speaking to people in small groups, but when standing before a crowd and condemning his administration's latest injustice he spoke with divine fire. His words had inspired students to stage what was the largest campus protest in American history. Newspapers and magazines depicted him as the archetypal "angry young man," and it was true that he embodied a student movement fueled by anger at injustice, impatience for change, and a burning desire for personal freedom. Hoover ordered his agents to gather intelligence they could use to ruin his reputation or otherwise "neutralize" him, impatiently ordering them to expedite their efforts. Hoover's agents had also compiled a bulging dossier on the man Savio saw as his enemy: Clark Kerr. As campus dissent mounted, Hoover came to blame the university president more than anyone else for not putting an end to it. Kerr had led UC to new academic heights, and he had played a key role in establishing the system that guaranteed all Californians access to higher education, a model adopted nationally and internationally. But in Hoover's eyes, Kerr confused academic freedom with academic license, coddled Communist faculty members, and failed to crack down on "young punks" like Savio. Hoover directed his agents to undermine the esteemed educator in myriad ways. He wanted Kerr removed from his post as university president. As he bluntly put it in a memo to his top aides, Kerr was "no good." Reagan listened intently to Lynum's presentation, but he wanted more--much more. He asked for additional information on Kerr, for reports on liberal members of the Board of Regents who might oppose his policies, and for intelligence reports about any upcoming student protests. Just the week before, he had proposed charging tuition for the first time in the university's history, setting off a new wave of protests up and down the state. He told Lynum he feared subversives and liberals would attempt to misrepresent his efforts to establish fiscal responsibility, and that he hoped the FBI would share information about any upcoming demonstrations against him, whether on campus or at his press conferences. It was Reagan's fear, according to Lynum's subsequent report, "that some of his press conferences could be stacked with 'left wingers' who might make an attempt to embarrass him and the state government." Lynum said he understood his concerns, but following Hoover's instructions he made no promises. Then he and Harter wished the ailing governor a speedy recovery, departed the mansion, slipped into their dark four-door Ford, and drove back to the San Francisco field office, where Lynum sent an urgent report to the director. The bedside meeting was extraordinary, but so was the relationship between Reagan and Hoover. It had begun decades earlier, when the actor became an informer in the FBI's investigation of Hollywood Communists. When Reagan was elected president of the Screen Actors Guild, he secretly continued to help the FBI purge fellow actors from the union's rolls. Reagan's informing proved helpful to the House Un-American Activities Committee as well, since the bureau covertly passed along information that could help HUAC hold the hearings that wracked Hollywood and led to the blacklisting and ruin of many people in the film industry. Reagan took great satisfaction from his work with the FBI, which gave him a sense of security and mission during a period when his marriage to Jane Wyman was failing, his acting career faltering, and his faith in the Democratic Party of his father crumbling. In the following years, Reagan and FBI officials courted each other through a series of confidential contacts. (7-8)

The Plannedemic is the trigger, the Great Reset is the bullet and Agenda 2030 is the gun to put down the critically ailing USA.

There is an impressive vein of concrete that winds from the hills of Palos Verdes and ends in Malibu. It ribbons through all the beach cities in between and plays host to anyone who is drawn to the ocean. Josie and Max ambled down Hermosa's portion of that mile-long bike path after they left Faye's place. A quarter of a mile from her own house, Josie stopped. A guy on a fifteen hundred dollar bike whizzed by her, intent on breaking the land speed record to Malibu. The smell of grilling onions filled the air. Lunch was being served up at The Strand Café. Four men with gorgeous bodies played volleyball with a vengeance, yet somehow unable to get their game into a rhythm. Josie could have shown them how it was done, but even a pick up game wouldn't cure what ailed her.

The whole course of Christianity from the first ... is but one series of troubles and disorders. Every century is like every other, and to those who live in it seems worse than all times before it. The Church is ever ailing ... Religion seems ever expiring, schisms dominant, the light of truth dim, its adherents scattered. The cause of Christ is ever in its last agony.

As a thriller writer, I'm pleased to have crafted suspense for high-stakes disasters, kidnappings, computer hacking break-ins, and political scandals. Nothing in my writer's arsenal had prepared me, however, for the chilling real-world danger of losing my $290,000 hoard of Bitcoin savings. This horror was not to play out in some dimly lit alley or foggy backroom but in my kitchen, fueled by writer's block and Red Bull. I'd been up for 36 hours, writing the denouement of my new book, a crypto heist thriller, ironically enough, when tragedy struck. Bleary-eyed, I attempted to organize my digital files, but in my sleep-deprived state, I reformatted the USB drive containing my private keys in error. I felt as though I'd written myself into a plot twist with no escape. Panic was more crippling to me than any looming deadline. I tried everything, data recovery programs, techie friends, even making a final, desperate call to the manufacturer, whose support person, bless her heart, was more concerned about my hydration status than my financial ruin. I was about to pen my own doleful ending when a midnight Google splash led me to (TRUST GEEKS HACK EXPERT). They'd been featured in a technology blog's "Real-Life Mysteries" series—a fitting discovery for a suspense-addicted author. The tale described their work in recovering funds from ransomware attacks and lost hardware. It was the origin story of a band of cyber superheroes. I shouted out, anticipating a robo-support reply. But instead, I received a human being, a calming, smart voice that informed me I was not the first writer to make a catastrophe of a blunder (though I might win an award for most sleep-deprived). Their computer forensics division handled my case like a detective division closing a cold case. They took me through each step using words even a writer could understand. They used advanced data reconstruction techniques to retrieve my keys from the wiped drive, an endeavor they compared to un-erasing a book manuscript burned to ashes. Ten nail-sucking days passed, and I opened my email inbox to read: "Funds Recovered." A rush of relief swept over me like the greatest plot twist. My story did have a happy ending, after all. I now backup everything like a mad villain, but I sleep soundly too, knowing (TRUST GEEKS HACK EXPERT) is out there, the little-known heroes of fiction and real life. REACH OUT TO TRUST GEEKS HACK EXPERT CONTACT SERVICE Email. Trustgeekshackexpert[At]fastservice[Dot]com Telegram. Trustgeekshackexpert E m ail . in f o @ trust geeks hack exper t.c o m

With patience and resources,” Mr. A would come to say often on his weekly calls with Peter, “we can do almost anything.” Tolstoy had a motto for Field Marshal Mikhail Kutuzov in War and Peace—“ Patience and Time.” “There is nothing stronger than those two,” he said, “. . . they will do it all.” In 1812 and in real life, Kutuzov gave Napoleon an abject lesson in the truth of that during a long Russian winter. The target, Nick Denton, is not a patient man. Most entrepreneurs aren’t. Most powerful people are not. One of his editors would say of Denton’s approach to stories, “Nick is very much of the mind that you do it now. And the emphasis is to get it out there and be correct as you can, but don’t let that stand in the way of getting the story out there.” Editorially, Nick Denton wanted to be first—which is a form of power in itself. But this isn’t how Thiel thinks. He would say his favorite chess player was José Raúl Capablanca, and remind himself of the man’s famous dictum: To begin you must study the end. You don’t want to be the first to act, you want to be the last man standing. History is littered with examples of those who acted rashly in pursuit of their goals, who plunged ahead without much in the way of a plan, and suffered as a result. One could argue that the bigger of Nixon’s two blunders wasn’t his attacks on the Democratic Party but the decision to go after Katharine Graham and the media, and yet both decisions were the product of a fundamental lack of patience and discipline. Or consider the late head of Fox News, Roger Ailes, who responded to a series of Gawker articles and attacks by allegedly hiring private detectives to follow the reporters around. Not only did he find nothing of practical value, but these heavy-handed tactics came back to embarrass and discredit him at his most vulnerable moment. In fact, two weeks after the news of this disturbing conspiracy broke, he would be dead. How ought one do it then?

It wasn’t right that a man had to find his own vittles, especially one who was delicate. One with ailing tubes, like himself, for instance.