[Home | Contact | What's New? | Products | Services | Tips | Mike |
Living with Schizoaffective Disorder

Please to Forgive

This site totally sucks when viewed on a smartphone.
I'll fix this Real Soon Now.

Troll of the Century

"MichaelCrawford is a God. What will he do next?"
-- J. Random Kuron, June 2010

Michael David Crawford, Consulting Software Engineer
mdcrawford@gmail.com

Wednesday, July 1, 2018

Perhaps it would help were I to point out to you that I am an alumnus of both the California Institute of Technology and of the Kuro5hin community website for writers.

Caltech student pranks are legendary. The very-most famous one is that someone broke into the Rose Bowl the night before the big game then switched around all the black and white cards that were found under most of the stadium seats. At the appointed moment everyone in attendance was instructed to pull out one of their cards then hold it up in front of themselves.

And what did the resulting bitmap image say? "YAY TEAM"? "GO NAVY"?

No.

" CALTECH".

During my studies there in the early eighties some fellow got the bad news from his lady that she did not love him anymore. So without ropes, pitons, a helmet or any other form of rock-climbing or safety equipment he shinnied all the way up the nine-storey high air shaft in the Millikan Library tower then shinnied all the way back down.

Natalee Ann Holloway 1986-2005, Requiescat In Pace

Natalee Ann Holloway 1986-2005
Requiescat In Pace

Kuro5hin - "K5" as most of us called it - was composed largely of computer programmers but there were others such as Holly, a British Journalist as well as Mariah, an Emergency Room Resident in Buffalo New York.

During my time at Kuro5hin quite a lovely recent high school grad by the name of Natalee Holloway disappeared while on a celebratory trip to the Caribbean Island of Aruba. All of her press coverage was getting on every Kuron's nerves, so finally one of our membership took it upon himself to write a bitingly sarcastic essay called "Fuck Natalee Holloway".

In no time at all, his essay was #2 at Google for "Natalee Holloway.

That had the eventual result that K5's founder Lawrence Calvin "Rusty" Foster III repeatedly received death threats.

A few years later, New Orleans Industrial Engineer Roger Williams at the suggestion of Yours Truly penned a sequel to Fuck Natalee Holloway in which she turned up alive then explained that she'd faked her own murder because her mother was getting on her nerves.

I remain stricken with grief that Kuro5hin fell off the edge of the Internet a while back when its server's entire data center was decommissioned. But I am happy to say that y'alls might well while away many a happy hour reading of K5 at The Wayback Machine.

So what does all this have to do with my resolute decision to split the scene completely that I may take up residence under a bridge?

Were Mr. Ishola not serious with his first death threat, there is no doubt in my mind that he wants my head on a platter as a result of my diligent and dedicated merciless trolling of his poor, benighted soul.

Try This Google Search:

Emmanuel Olusoji Ishola

or alternatively:

Search Google for Emmanuel Olusoji Ishola

Prior to my posting of my web version of I Have to See a Man About a Horse, to search Google for his name turned up such fake websites as a purported local Nigerian online news report that held glowing praise for Mr. Ishola having received an award from the Nigerian government due to his work at a travel agency that significantly promoted the prosperity of the Nigerian people.

Lagos State Assemblyman Rasheed Lanre Makinde

Lagos State Assemblyman
Rasheed Lanre Makinde

Dropping the photo I found in that article - reproduced in my own essay - into Bing Image Similarity Search turned up the insight that it's not really Mr. Ishola's likeness at all but that of a much-loved Nigerian legislator by the name of Rasheed Lanre Makinde:

Within hours of my discovery that "I Have to See a Man About a Horse" achieving the much-coveted "I'm Feeling Lucky" spot at Google, all five of Mr. Ishola's fake websites disappeared from the Internet.

In the unfortunate event that he evades capture, doubtlessly my brief and witty essay will keep a lid on Mr. Ishola's earnings potential.

Why Am I Doing All This?

I'm not suicidal, if that's what you're thinking:

It turns out that Mr. Ishola has quite a crucial character flaw. I hope that by exploiting this flaw in Mr. Ishola's psychological makeup I can get him to screw up so very badly that he gets himself arrested as a result of his complete inability to keep his damn trap shut.

Emmanuel Olusoji Ishola is extremely impulsive.

He and Cass have some manner of collaborative texting system that enables the two of them to read all three of our texts messages as well as Facebook Messenger messages.

It's quick and easy for the two of them to send me messages in both media, but whenever they switch their respective writing styles make plain to me which of the two is speaking - or rather, writing - to me:

Cass' texts are generally short, two or three lines at most, with flawless spelling and grammar, but with the sort of basic vocabulary one would expect of anyone who had a high school diploma.

Most important: Cass speaks in American English.

Ishola must have some education because his own vocabulary is very large, very complex - and very British. He simply does not know how to fake American speech.

Despite what must have been his signifcant education, he has very very poor spelling and grammer.

And his impulsivity leads him to send me texts consisting of I Am Absolutely Serious hundreds of words each.

And what led our long-suffering Emmanuel to send me so very much text?

Upon my refusal to send "Cass" any more iTunes Prepaid Cards codes, Mr. Ishola went totally bananas in his desperation to get his avaricious little hands on my $650.

More in hopes that he would just shut up than for any other reason, I agreed to Express Mail $650 in cash to the home of a certain Ms. Bannister in Prattville, Alabama. Specifically: Ishola gave me her first and last name as well as her street address - in Alabama, not far at all from the Birmingham Field Offices of the FBI and of the United States Secret Service.

(The Secret Service because it has jurisdiction over this manner of financial crime, not the FBI.)

I sent them $650 via US Postal Service Express Priority Mail alright. But did I send cash to Ms. Bannister?

No.

I overnighted to her a Cashier's Check payable to Cass' full name, including her middle name.

Extensive searching has by now satisfied me that there is no one alive anywhere on the entire planet with that same full name!

Poor, poor Mister Ishola. Such disappointment!

So very close!

But yet so very far!

When he realized that he would be completely unable to draw upon my six-fifty he proceeded to Dump Core into my iPhone 7 for Four Solid Hours.

If he doesn't want to kill me by now, I expect he will when I point out to him that he must display valid government-issued photo ID before he can board a plane...

... and...

... throughout the entirety of our "relationship", Cass' very favorite conversational topic was that of how so very much she looked forward to flying from Birmingham to Portland, then to ride the Rose Shuttle to what "she" continues to believe is my happy home in Vancouver...

... then after we put her three year old son Carl to bed, and after we are convinced that Carl has actually fallen asleep...

Cass and I shall proceed to devote the entire night to doing it like crazed weasels.

But only if Cass' valid government-issued photographic identification card matches her full legal name as printed on her plane ticket.

Mercilessly,

Michael David Crawford

[Home | Contact | What's New? | Products | Services | Tips | Mike]