(sighs)
You insist on addressing me via nudge and wink. You complain that I keep on forcing everything back to square one.
All you have to do if you want my engagement is to meet me face-to-face: that is to say, whoever you are, to come up to me in the street now, tell me “It was us”, and Bob’s your uncle … we can finally talk.
Right now, I am NOT going to go to a police station of my own volition; to a doctor to enquire; to any organ of the state so you can humiliate me as you did in 2003; not even to a lawyer or journalist or other professional to see what can’t be done.
If you want me to sign up to some job or task or organisation or whatever, YOU now must do all the approaching. And then I will sample your smorgasbord in honest good faith. And I will choose wisely, and for the benefit of the majority.
But no: a slippery #ar which stealthily confuses my certainties to the point of a cancer-inducing debilitation is simply unconvincing in the extreme.
Get used to the idea. And if you are, and don’t care, or are mostly men of the bad trad type I described earlier this morning, then it’s end of the line for us all.
In the meantime.
What I would like the smorgasbord to contain:
- Police work, particularly neo-terrorism.
- Intuition capture, upskilling, evidencing, sharing, storage and retrieval via #ar and #ai tools.
- Investigative business journalism (not interested in any other area).
- Work and live in Belfast or London, or both.
- Have a very small weekend apartment in Dublin, to chill out in a place which previously spent so much time freezing me out.
- Visit Liverpool every so often for purely work reasons.
- Find a woman to enjoy life with, to support, to enable, and to treasure (this is my job not yours, but it might as well figure here as an aspiration).
- ALL the above would be very cool, but even SOME of the above would be grand.
Thanks.
eiohel 