Dog Truth, Show Biz Rally
Essay
It may not be a bad idea if I diligently count the number of electronic submissions I sent to The New York Times as a reader, in order for me to keep a presentable accuracy as ready and handy. A pseudonym, Ignorantia Asserciones, has however already entered a realm of resignation for that purpose to achieve, for all records being gone, or having been taken, very likely by the very same person who fraudulently claimed the series of my Old Orchard Beach photos (see the image below) as hers along with all of my submissions to NYT, plus, a few pieces I submitted to The New Yorker, or by some group or some other people. My accusation is admittedly foggy with no detail while my heart has been injured to the depth because of all those injustice falling upon me with no cease since them.
CANIS ET VERITAS is a fictional essay or a fiction, or an essay, or whatever in a spirit of David Sedaris, but a lady’s version, that’s me. Or, not Sedaris at all, that’s very possible. Or, my own style as one kind, by saying which I know I would trigger the Boomer legacy’s shadowy hostility with no real human bodies nor souls. However much it’s gotten clumsily, yes, I am trying to connect the beginning of this post to my last publication “Replacement lock roller”.
I reposted CANIS ET VERITAS on my Facebook. The duplication for this post is from INEVITABLY BEGAN AS THE WORLD SEES UNDER, my very first publication at Juliette Masch Writes on October 1st, 2021. The last paragraph in the block quote which you will inevitably see under CANIS ET VERITAS is a remark I made for INEVITABLY BEGAN AS THE WORLD SEES UNDER. The paragraph begins with “Now, my modest note to end…”. The poignant part which had been missing was “Mr. Medium abbreviated the concept as howl over the system, pal”.
I have a pretty good theory for why this happened. The essay (or the fiction or fictional essay) was a very smooth writing for me, it took only for one or two hours straight in one morning. When finished, I found the paragraph ending with that poignant “Mr. Medium abbreviated the concept as … “ was a true gem to end with. It’s worth to repeat the value with emphases. It was so good, that’s why those abominably parasitical people create fake anecdotes or comments or anything, part of which was falsely made to be mine, to cut off the whole sentence in order to diminish or nullify my literary talent, to smear, slash, cut down, and hell ho to alter into dumbly boring stuff on their own publication platforms with or without my name as a collaborator.
Vicious. Freak’s job, otherwise. Sticking on my authorship like a snapping turtle. Watch out and be careful. Not everyone is tough like me, so you’ll cry more than I do if she comes to you with a franco-anglophone team with Japanese.
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(photo taken by myself - digitally modified color)
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CANIS ET VERITAS
(my electronic submission to NYT Opinion - not published)
(exact submission time: 1 oct. 2017 10:31 À opinion)
Exemplifying a case is just an example. It differs from a fabrication, now often well known as "fake" news or "fake" information, which may be presented to draw attentions and reactions from others for particular purposes to be achieved. With this regards, this is not fake.
Ms. Socia has a neighbor called Ms. Neighbor. Ms. Socia has another neighbor called Mr. Medium. Ms. Socia and Mr. Medium are doubly friends on two bases; one is the panorama 3D basis, the other, the 2D social media basis.
One day, Ms Socia got an inspiration (or some sort). Why do I not make a plot on Ms. Neighbor? Very coincidentally, Ms. Socia's dog (you choose the dog's name) broke an object which Ms. Neighbor placed in her yard. How did the dog do?? That is not the very important point here. Just the dog did it -- bow wow wohhonn!
Here comes an examplification of the case. In the by-gone era, if such a thing happened, an apology and explication were presented, succeeded very likely by neighborly gratitude and courtesy. No, that's okay. A dog is just a dog. Please do not worry about it. Well, really? Thank you for you're saying so nice. The dog might be happy as well -- wohooon, bow wow!
Today, however, Ms. Socia goes onto her social media circle immediately, with Mr. Medium's backup. I am feeling so baaaad. I don't know what to do. Why do you not say sorry to your neighbor? Well, I want to.., but, you know, she is not normal.. (which at this point, drew a considerable number of reactions). Reeally? In what way, she is not normal?
Within less than one hour, Ms. Neighbor became digitally known as a schizophrenic paranoia, who *might* conceal her past full of squalors, including numerous caninecides. Mr. Medium also digitally testified how his own dog appears to be traumatized at every time his dog encounters Ms. Neighbor. Wobown!
On the other hand, Ms. Socia successfully portrays herself as a lady in sufferings under the incomprehensibility of the world's rules, which incessantly seem to challenge her beautiful thoughts about how everything ought to be, including the freedom of her dog's behaviors in relation to the ownership of objects belonging to others. Mr. Medium abbreviated the concept as howl over the system, pal.
There are some complications, though. In the past, Ms. Neighbor was taken to a local hospital due to a 911 call. The neighborhood was in curiosities and quasi-excitements. Ooohooo, you know, her husband called the police because she was so violent! The truth is that Ms. Neighbor's husband was angry at her at that night, and, he is a person of eccentricity at an exceeding degree. As you guess, however, the incident serves itself as the pivotal reference at any time favorly for Ms. Socia. Telling additional information by the way, Ms. Neighbor's husband currently lives in the outer space far away from our galaxy.
So, now, how much is an example, how much is true? Only the dogs involved in know. Bowwoon, woooon, wohooon!
Juliette Masch (as display name)
[ my customary name ]
End of Canis et Veritas
Now, my modest note to end this newsletter is on a fact base. The above-duplicated submission had missed the poignant part, I found just moments ago. How long and since when are out of my knowledge. However, I manually restored the original version by typing missing words to insert from my memory. When moon rises, the world turns, such is an additional affinity. Then, it is your turn to complicate, abbreviate, reject, or whatever, regarding what I’ve done here, only of course, if you like it.
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On CANIS ET VERITAS, Ms. Socia:
CANIS ET VERITAS is a fictional essay or a fiction, or an essay, or whatever in a spirit of David Sedaris, but a lady’s version, that’s me. Or, not Sedaris at all, that’s very possible. Or, my own style as one kind, by saying which I know I would trigger the Boomer legacy’s shadowy hostility with no real human bodies nor souls …. well, true, I’m accentuating the point already having said for another emphatic style sake.
There were real people, neighbors, as model figures for the story. Ms. Socia was a combo of women with their pets, the major persona of whom moved away from the town years ago. She had a large dog from a shelter somewhere, I cannot now recall which state she lived, and the dog worked for rescue missions, said she. Other part of Ms. Socia was from a woman who seemed to be awaken to be a down-to-earth & heartful & mindful progressive, or she might have been always so ever since she was …. a child in Michigan or Wisconsin and she even lived awhile in Vermont?
My story is located in Massachusetts, in a city facing the sea. There could have been more of episodes I would have written on Ms. Socia. She is a type-genre as a former neo-con who became a full-woke under the spell of Progressives, one who is though a bit more considerate than those who openly say Trump was not assassinated was too bad, with no slightest sign of conscience nor balanced moral sense. Even if one has nothing to agree with Trump and on his life, his views, his policies; accepting an assassination is to affirm a lawless society, the concept is the same as affirming lynching. That Trump is Hitler is a rhetorical crudity used by Dems. When thinking of the best possible interpretation, we reckon that exemplified association of someone to Hitler used to be for or from political caricature of editorial cartoons in a spicy, punchy and common practice of news papers in the pre-internet era.
Ms. Socia is either a registered Democrat or an Independent. It’s possible for us to assume that she might be once a Libertarian. Her abhorrence to Republicans has never been shaken even at the slightest degree. She often makes a mental-imagery by which the conservative-morons (note: not me, but Ms. Socia is thinking of them as such in such a brutally noncivil manner) should be in animal shelters au lieu de those all innocent animals having no political opinions against hers. With this regard, Ms. Socia can join the pack of Progressives who disappointed the failure of Trump assassination.
Malicious mindset. Truly.
Around the time when I submitted CANIS ET VERITAS to NYT back in 2017, Ms. Socia established her self-claimed and self-imposed status as the representative of Juliette Masch. Know the fact, therefore! Anyone or any one who have tried to contact me have been automatically directed to Ms. Socia by the full cooperation of communal efforts. Imagine, therefore, furthermore! I’ll continue writing and publishing my oeuvres here at Juliette Masch Writes on Substack, for … let’s say … five more years, more years, or as long as I live. Today, tomorrow, on a day in two years, five years, or in the future, a reader goes to the page and clicks on the button to subscribe to Juliette Masch Writes. What will happen? The pop-up is Welcome page of Ms. Socia (and the Snapping Turtle, aka Freaky), the background of which is designed with multi-fames of astrosurfers astroturfing. That’s a future of Progressives’ enjoyment when authorships are desired. Everyone can end up in the same place for the equity being distributed, shared and allocated. Not every one can write and publish, so that there needs to be adjustments, to make every others can be equal with someone’s equity. Very inclusive. Except the one from whom all advantages are taken systematically.
The word, astrosurfers is my made-up one. They navigate with their eyes and skills, clicking on cellphone surfaces for streaming, capturing, recording selves, posting, and amplifying things, matters, whatever to influence non-surfers, for money, rewards, future connections, satisfactions, fun and more! The future connections they can get should be a big one in their expectation. The Party never fading should be the one. When you work online for someone backed up the power able to gather 200M $ for a day or so, you must feel secured and powerful yourself. In a plausible future, anyone who posts anything you don’t like, just say it, just say why your feelings are injured as if hit by physical violence. In that future, progressive P and VP will sanction by law those whose words injure all astrosurfers and their supporters. Raid, arrest, assets taken as equity to distribute for equality.
In such a future, words will be extremely embellished to conceal all acts of authorities and locals, which used to be regarded as unlawful and wrongdoing. The community nets are tight and well woven to detect a leak as soon as there is a sign. In this picture, the logic suggests that the governance is still republic, not a socialism in full, because there will be a counter force against the systematically operated communal communism. That is a good sign. Though, be careful and attentive! Socialism is Neighborism, when said, which means every one must be the same, selectively according to the socialism leaders.
In this case, even there is no regulations nor laws nor constitutional amendments in very specific terms which indicate individuals’ lives in details to be intact, such progressive minds would automatically apply everything, every matters, to the conceptual ideology set into their way of thinking for everything, every matter. A communal majority thus would do anything to anyone if considered different in ways of thinking and regarded as holding uncommon equity in any form, in order for the absolute equality in the selective pool of people to be achieved.
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Ms. Socia thinks more:
It will defy the spirit of my essay, fiction, or fictional essay, or partial fiction, or partial essay, if I give to Ms. Socia the task of pondering upon a progressively governed regime concerning the freedom of scientific healthcare. Ms. Socia in CANIS ET VERITAS is not a person leaning to such a direction. She is a down-to-earth type loving dogs, with a fancy self-disposition of an educated, or a very educated, liberal woman as you already know about. Her scientific affinity with women’s health dependes on the evolution of medical science. Ms. Socia thinks: Women needs to be free, including the reproductive rights, or most importantly. She thinks more: If women want lives of sexual advancements (note: not me, Ms Socia is thinking of it whatever it may mean exactly with a plural form), their desire should not be impeded. She thinks moreover: IVF is wonderful, because liberals support IVF and I’m a liberated woman unlike my neighbor, Ms. Neighbor (that’s me). Well, well. Is it too much to ask to Ms. Socia? If I ask her how unborn lives in the mother’s wombs be less than dogs in animal shelters?
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Mr. Medium and no more Ms. Socia:
We are now on a new paragraph. Mr. Medium and Ms. Socia were friends on social media and in their neighborhood as well. There was also a model figure for him, my neighbor who moved out of the neighborhood years ago with his dog. His wife was first his gf, then became his fiancée, then they married and moved to a house or a big condominium, I cannot remember which. Probably the latter. In our unusually large backyard, he trained his dog, puppy grew to be a young dog just a bit bigger than her former puppy size, practically every day with balls, in hard winds, in rain, under sun, regardless of the weather. Such discipline must have a clear purpose, I thought. He was actually recording his life with his dog or his dog with his life and posted, it appeared. The nuance is due to my having never watched his posts. But the whole circumstances told me that he was an influencer in themes of dogs.
In CANIS ET VERITAS, Mr. Medium’s dog is not a small dog. In reality, my neighbor’s dog was a small sized (not as small as Chihuahua) mixed breed dog, with flapping ears, somewhat square jaws, short legs, short hairs. The dog reminded me of Beagle a lot not only by the appearance but also by her behaviors. Very cheerful, active, playful. She loved to run around in our big backyard. The friendly dog wanted to play with me too when I happened to be in the back and the neighbor happened to be on his cellphone in the yard with his dog. We encountered on streets by chance too. She recognized me and in my ambiguous impression, she seemed to consider me as the category x, different from the primary category that must be her owners, neighbor and his gf who became his fiancée who then became his wife. For her (the dog), the secondary category must have been people with dogs, whom she encounter often when she was out with the primary category. There was also the category 1.5 (between the primary and the second) as to be their friends visiting them with their dogs. She (the dog) must have wondered. To me, no dog is attached. I’m in a different part of the house to which she (the dog) cannot go. I can be also out of the building and freely walk with no dog. While I’m not seen in her space (neighbors’ apartment), I’m freely in their backyard (which is a shared backyard). Who is she? she (the dog) must have wondered about me. What is she?
The category x (me) is in the backyard. It’s a long day again. Because Mom and Dad (the primary category) are out together and I cannot go out to the yard alone, the door is closed. But, Dad put a chair near the back hall window, so I can jump up on to see the outside through the window. Jump! Wown! The category x is in the backyard!
If you may be thinking that this section might be a continuation of CANIS ET VERITAS, such a thought will be understandable, but this is not. All those are truth on factual bases. I noticed the small head looking at me via a back window. How many times? Just from time to time. One day, we began our communication, between her (there in the house) and me (here in the yard).
I knew her name and I clearly remember it now too, that’s not a longtime ago anyway, but at any event, I think of her privacy. This is the reason for my not naming her with her given name. There is another reason, however. I gave her nickname and she obviously loved it. I called her from the backyard with the nickname while stepping lightly on one of her playing ball which made poo poo sounds by its air pressure change. She loved it. She even replied to me with her wowon wowon. Somehow, he (the neighbor) came to know her nickname given by me. He liked it, I tell you. He noticed that the name is French. Then, he came to know what that mean. There were more of unsaid episodes between him and me, not very friendly kind as our very first encounter when I moved back to my place from the Northern Indiana. Anyway, but, what succeeded was a cold or a very cold season of our neighborly relationship which though had never been more than a distanced civility with courtesy. I believe he also posted about me on his social media with fury chilled down to ice because of his superb indignation. Did I tell you that he regarded his dog as his daughter, little girl? But, the fact was that she loved to be called Merda by me and the etymological origine was from her ubiquitous droppings in the backyard. The name had also a female ending for her being a girl dog.
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A terror of socialistic society, when the advent is real in the US, would be that no one can easily realize nor admit its horrified situation, because, with an incredible rapidity, people’s pattern of thoughts becomes numb paradoxically by sophisticated varieties of the repetitively formulated and directed ideas in simple crudities. People watch each other to keep the community safe. Soon even if falsifications are collectively made, customary comforts from familiarity in everyday appear to be most valuable. Thus, lies are non-existent but modified and explained as administrative adjustments to accord with local interests and goals for the improvement of people’s lives. It would though function beautifully provided that all leaders, their subjects, all residents are unconditionally very good human beings with no possibility of deceptions, corruption as at the degree zero absolute. Otherwise, the tight nets let no one out. Internal alterations of official documents for promotional convenience and budget manipulations will be rampant and so ordinary that the socialistic bureaucracy is the one in which people desire to be.
One obvious and warning sign of such a society which may arrive is that high ranked politiciens change the content of official documents for their convenience while knowing the whole system can protect all of such acts. If this becomes a political normalcy, people will do the same. Still there would be conflicts of interests that arise. Corruptions vs corruptions, the stage is quite dirty. What’s the expression in English? Dog eats dog?
My sense of a realistic dystopia is not necessarily nor always akin to sequences of sci-fi dystopian films. If there is no catastrophic event such as a quasi-total world war with nuclear weapons, a plausible dystopia in the US would be driven by the show biz politics. The most valuable are paid to do astroturfing the dystopia is a new and true democracy. Politics and entertainment industry are interrelated and every events are showcased with actors and singers, the success of which are falsely amplified online, which are multiply publicized by astroturfing.
Anyone even mentions such an image as hypothetical before it really happens, could be in a danger of being marked at by socialism leaders of different kinds. Many fake documents, false letters or correspondance, untrue testimonies can be produced quickly in a short period of time to condemn the one into a list of criminal speech makers, thus a terror to the country as a terrorist.
What speech, written expressions, are harmful to whom must be codified. The articles can be though volatile. Interpretations matter and all the subjects have to exactly coincide with the identity classifications and categorizations of diversity. The Constitution would be skillfully ignored. Everyone notices. But, no one cares anymore. Because all should be for equality as equitable with no other goal nor other causality.
Allowing different opinions being too different is too dangerous! Are you Ms. Socia or Mr. Medium? In CANIS ET VERITAS, the latter was a Bernie brothers type, who became later, though unwritten, a Trump supporter type. Very unlikely, unbelievable? Notice please I wrote CANIS ET VERITAS in 2017, seven years ago (meanwhile many people safely and successfully stole my authorship of this marvelously witty essay and may even published it with their names jointly, and have been recommended, endorsed by progressively minded power holders who sought and seek distributable equities with no consent from, nor notice to the genuine author, that is me!), that was not yet the astrosurfers’ astroturfing showtime for political and social show biz theatre as fun time.
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I would not have gotten myself into it this much, if there had never been the Trump assassination attempt and progressives’ reaction to it. Not a small percentage of progressives appears to express normal reactions to the killer and the target (Trump), which should be anger (at the shooter), relief, empathy, sympathy, and/or admiration. For many progressives, Trump is the archenemy whose life is even abstract as if a vilain in a superhero movie. I have no reason for comparing me to Trump, nor by any means, except for this one. In my experiences, progressives regard me as their enemy whose value, life, freedom, constitutional and human rights can be ignorable. Most practically, harassing me to see or imagine the state of my misery or at least my depression become their justice, because I criticize the current Democratic Party, progressives in particular. Thus, they may very likely cheer with joy if I’m killed or suddenly die, as if I were a disposable element in a political video game on a local site for fun.
In other possibility, I’m a mere part of the particular cultural product to accord exactly with the classification of identity politics. Any word, any sentence, any paragraph I write must be interpreted with cultural connotations which should be shared with prototypical Japanese whose characteristics of all aspects match those of mine according to the judgement of neo-cons or Boomers’ shadows or non-shadows. So, everything I have written in this post so far from the beginning to this point could be completely spoiled, altered, dissected, slashed, and whatever things to be done, but no one cares, anyway because equity for equality and all should be culturally identified for distribution to be practiced properly.
Otherwise, only good parts are taken, if not all part, with additions appropriate to whatever purpose for whomever.
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What usually immediately happen after I publish a piece is chants or rants of “therapy, therapy” to environmentally publicize the denial of my authorship. Allow me please this déjà-lu for you as you already read in my very last essay, “Replacement lock roller”. When some people do not like the fact of my authorship, because they did not write my post nor no one whom they want to be the author for credits in their lives, what usually happen is they simply deny the truth. The pattern is, here comes again! the above-mentioned “therapy” propaganda. In my speculative conviction, it should be ultra easy to produce fake medical records of mine officially, if the medical facility is located in a dominance of progressive politics as a heavy concentration. Look, if a progressive political candidate for a very important position could fake up his own record and hashed it up with the help of the House, anything would be able to be or have been done especially on nobody of importance like me, do you not think so? I mean if part of The Party can be or already have been corrupted to such a deep degree in its state.
At any event, my life is regarded as nothing, much less than an insect for typical progressives who do astroturfing with no thought of what is socialism if not ideally brought up and impeccably practiced as if a community of angels.
For them, the excitement for a utopian socialism to imagine can make their heart beat rapid, surely I think. Political rallies are show biz rides, lit the fire, burn the passion! More fun are super stars’ concerts free, the cease-fire must be done soon pretty! We gonna built a new city over the burnt Gaza, we got already lots of money from super donors, hey we’ll go!
Oh, you know what? Some of them are not happy with what I’m doing here.
This is an insult, a hate speech, you’re a liar! They say.
Are you Ms. Socia or Mr. Medium? I ask.
Neither, they say, because all you say are lies, there were no neighbors you talked about. There has never been no dog you nicknamed in French! Hahaha, avocat, cat, liar, avocado, liar with no lawyer!
They have a back chorus astroturfing enough as well, which is formed by multilingual insults onto me, non-stop.
But, you know what? She must know the truth in my life as to be always a true liberty. So, let me ask. How much is the essay exemplified, how much is it true? We seize the answer, you guess’d it, here comes: Wowon!
Wowon!
“Dog Truth, Show Biz Rally” by Juliette Masch (8/8)