YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND.

I at first thought that the Oligarchs were organized crime kingpins.

Much of the former Communist world's grief and the Capitalist world's challenge is that The G-dless Communies had to struggle so desperately just to have any hope whatsoever of survival.

This because Ronald Reagan in particular made his intentions to transform all of Mother Russian into a fine, radioactive mist in the stratosphere.

The very height of the cold war was not at all the 1963 Cuban Missile Crisis as most Americans incorrectly believe, but 1981 or so when my father, a US Naval Civil Service Electrical Engineer, just happened to not come home from work. He didn't call to say he'd miss supper, we all figured that there were some fires he had to put out so we were unconcerned.

I don't recall the date but it was around summertime as it's quite nice to be outdoors even late at night in Fairfield, California.

About five miles to the east of our home at the time lay Travis Air Force Base. That's the largest USAF Airlift Command Base on the West Coast. Edwards Airforce Base in California's High Desert just Northwest of the Mojave is larger, but isn't meant for "production use" like fighting wars, just for experimental work like when a new model of fighterplane has a total landing gear brake failure upon touchdown.

Twenty miles to our west, on the otherside of a wide, moderately high but not really tall range of hills, lay Mare Island Naval Shipyard in Vallejo, where my father was working that night, and was at the time the main submarine maintenance, repair and nuclear refueling shipyard.

So one night Mom looks puzzled steps out the front door then asks my sister and I to join her in the front yard.

"Mike?"

"Jeannie?"

"Mom, those are air raid sirens!"

I had not the clue that they even existed in our neighborhood. They were all around our subdision, about a quarter mile on each side so I couldn't locate any but I figured they had to be hidden inside the streetlight poles.

Oddly no one EVER mentioned this event to me at any time. I don't know why.

Consider that the Soviets, East Germans, Polish &c. were a lot more fearful of getting brutally murdered by us Freedom-Loving G-d Fearing American Citizens than we were of them.

This the Soviets, the Chinese, the North Vietnamese and the North Koreans bet the farm on weaponry as well as provisions for their military personnel.

Spies too, lots of spies, not just to spy on us, but on each other as the Soviets and the Chinese were not Allies, rather "Fellow Travels" in that they were going to the same destination but hated each other with a passion. The People's Republic of China actually invaded North Vietnam after South Vietnam fell in 1975.

There were also quite a lot of secret police, in part to keep a watch out for Capitalist espionage but also to keep an eye out for anti-Communist citizens of Communist nations.

Putin worked for most of his adult life until the Soviet breakup as a KGB clandestine agent in East Germany.

He knew damn well that his only hope of not starving to death under ten feet of Generalissimo Winter after his, uh, "retirement" was to enjoy his Golden Years as a Moscow Taxi Driver!

I AM ABSOLUTELY SERIOUS.

So when Communism fell, everyone who could grab hold of something of value did so - with a fucking vengeance.

Not just Putin but lots of spies and military people - not just men but women - seized power over the Russian Federal.

I expect the Oligarchs have all been for the most part honest, well-intentioned people.

One way to lift oneself from desperate poverty would be, the very instant that ownership of private property became permissible, to buy up what one can, then start a business.

For example Dr. Charles Sims, a Pathologist and the father of my dear friend Murray Sims, when he was just starting out as a doctor, having to pay back all those medical school loads, as well as providing for his wife and five (!) children...

... "Suit up before you play." -- Dear Abby ...

Went in 50-50 with a colleague to buy some large liquid nitrogen dewars (ie. Thermos Bottles), some tanks of liquid nitrogen, and some medical and biological supplies, to start then was quite likely just the two of them spanking the monkey at every opportunity, eventually to become what, when I first met Murray at UC Santa Cruz, was "The Nation's Largest Sperm Bank" and now without a doubt, the world's largest.

Dr. Sims, being from rural Texas, doesn't act like a rich man. I've been to his home in Beverly Hills. I was dumbfounded that it wasn't a whole lot larger than my Mom's condo.

However it was packed solid with original oil paintings. I mean not like hung all over the walls. I mean like leaning gently backwards against every wall of his home, with just a narrow path to walk around in.

Only one painting was hung in a way to facilitate its viewing:

A black leather clad motorcycle cop with his back to the viewer was looking down at a stiff covered with a white sheet.

Just to one side, an elderly detective was questioning a young woman while taking notes on a pad of paper.

There was a plain brick wall in the background. That's it.

That painting was about eight feet square.

I have the idea in my head that I know how how to put Dr. Sim's completely to shame.

Sorry I tend to wander I haven't been getting a lot of sleep lately.

Dr. Sims isn't exactly an Oligarch but he's not far from one.

I myself am still strictly speaking homeless, but not in a practical sense as I'm staying in my elderly mother's tastefully appointed guest room, as I labor over my Get Oligarched Quick Scheme via EarthLink Dialup on her 32-Bit PowerPC iMac.

(I have a Retina Display MacBook Pro but it doesn't have a modem. ;-/ )

It happens that the vast majority of the entire planet's child pornography is both produced in Russia, as well as served by servers on the .ru domain. The servers aren't always physically located in Russia but many are.

Are you familiar with the term "BibCam Boy"? That's the male counterpart to a "Lolita".

I puzzled over what "BiBCam" could possibly refer to, for several years. I'm not dead certain but speculate:

"Boy-in-Boy Camera".

Somewhere out there, I am determined to find it someday then, not so much bust in with guns blazing, rather drop a non-anonymous dime to nsa@interpol.int, are some shots of ME from when I MYSELF WAS A BIBCAM BOY!

Know you know why I'm so weird. I'm actually quite the happy camper but I tend to get a little pissed at those who defile the temple.

I'm not going to tell you how I found the following rather high-end, high-production value, quite consummately professionally owned, managed and operated Motion Picture Studio which featured right on its Mother Fucking Homepage, the two proud partents of a little toddler.

They concieved their little one when they were both fourteen years old, she gave birth at fifteen, the picture I saw they were both sixteen and right at the top of that homepage was:

WE HAVE OUR OWN ORPHANAGE!

So the offspring of child molestation quite likely is also a star in it's own line of infant sex-fetish flicks.

Most commonly these places earn their coin via referral click payments, however this one was rather more brazen about it.

When I hunted about for some Damning evidence, all I could find was:

YOU MUST JOIN US.

By "JOIN" they meant that all that was required was a one-time paid membership.

How much? Ten thousand dollars? One thousand? One Million?

I don't actually know but I expect they're making billions out of just that one, uh, "Motion Picture Studio".

No.

Just USD $1.00.

Paid by a Credit or Debit Card, with one's card verification code, one's real name, one's real street - NOT! - postal addresa, and one's real phone number.

If I can ever find them again, I'm going to blow like ten fucking grand on a cock-sucking Gift Card at RiteAid, purchase ten thousand memberships all with my real name &c., download ten thousand separate copies of their entire inventory, burn it al to Blu-ray or so, then snail mail a Blu-ray to every journalist in the entire free world.

I expect I'd have to lay low for a little while after that.

I'm down with it. I have the Boy Scout Wilderness Survival Merit Badge.

THIS IS HOW WE ROLL.
http://www.warplife.com/mdc/books/homeless-like-me/