USA 2020 Elections: Thread

grarpamp grarpamp at
Tue Feb 2 02:45:54 PST 2021

> They were ...

Drunk, Disorganized, Incompetent, Political, and Strange.
People with half a brain watching what Trump's legal
and groupies were doing knew some of those issues,
and could have done 10x better at running fraud
investigation from the top.

"unbeknownst to all, the scientists in question had recovered enough
material both to document the original, and the smash-down."

"hundreds of millions, in donations of $10 and $20…. They were all fleeced."

How DJT Lost the White House, Chapter 1: All the President's Teams
(11/3 - 12/17)

Patrick Byrne... January 27, 2021

   I am going to refrain from saying too much about mine and Sidney
   Powell’s relationship. For one thing, over time it became something like
   I was working for her, helping her get answers to questions. Then, if I
   recall correctly, she became my lawyer. Whichever it was, in time the
   relationship became something for which privilege surely applies. One
   cannot selectively waive privilege, and just share things one wants to
   share while claiming “privilege” on the others. I know that. But what
   I can say is that our relationship started with me walking in off the
   street as a volunteer with information, and so I can talk about that phase
   of the relationship, but in time it became formal enough I will not be
   able to say more.

   Mayor Giuliani, however, never became my lawyer, and I will not be so
   constrained in my accounts, as my ultimate purpose (my only real purpose),
   is to deliver to the public as honest a rendering as I may construct of
   the events between November 3 and January 6. It seems like a historically
   worthy thing to do.

   For my part, though they thought of me as an entrepreneur, I introduced
   myself to them as the proprietor of this website, I
   pointed out that back in 2008 it had won numerous awards for its business
   investigative journalism, and had also been voted the best journalism
   regarding corruption within the United States.  I may have done other
   things in life but in addition, I’m a journalist, and I have the rights
   any journalist has. This means I can investigate what I want to
   investigate, I don’t have to reveal how I learn things, and if I feel
   like sharing some of my findings with lawyers like Sidney and Rudy, it is
   no different than the dozens of other times this website has investigated
   things and shared its findings with lawyers, or even with law enforcement.

   That first meeting with Sidney lasted perhaps 45 minutes. When I arrived
   at the office, the air had the strange tingle it has when people have just
   had words. I found Sidney sitting nearly by herself, perhaps an assistant
   and junior lawyer with her, in a nearly-empty space on one side of the
   office building. We quickly got to business, and I found Sidney was
   well-informed, open-minded, and it became clear she was on top of things.
   In short, she was an equal with whom I could have an intelligent

   Sidney was in touch with people from the earliest days of the creation of
   these systems, and soon she showed me that her information covered a
   portion of the narrative about which we had some knowledge but not much
   (mostly concerning the origin of the machines and their reason for certain
   design flaws). On the other hand, as we ran through what my side of the
   table had already teased out of the data in the days since the election,
   she showed she understood what we were saying, and we quickly tied things
   into what she already knew.  It was a highly-productive first
   conversation, and she ended it by telling me that I needed to go to the
   other side of the office, find Rudy Giuliani, and immediately tell him
   everything I had just shared with her.

   So my cyberbuddy and I went to the other side of the office building, to
   Rudy’s side, which I understood to be the center of gravity of the

   I should explain what I expected to find. I expected to find a command
   post staffed by lawyers and quants. The quants would be doing the
   statistical work, driving answers that would feed lawyers being notified
   of the research into such irregularities as I have walked through
   previously, and would be availing themselves of whatever remedies the law
   surely provided.  I figured there would be a war-board, with the states in
   question having boxed out all relevant data, progress, and to-do's. There
   would be an information loop, obviously, such that the campaign
   headquarters in each state would be on a daily conference call to receive
   updates on progress. Thinking that may be a fair bit for one 76-year-old
   gentleman to manage, I imagined Rudy might have some strong COO, perhaps a
   lawyer, or perhaps an executive, who might be keeping assignments on

   What I found is this:

   The place was 20% empty, and another 30% were packing out their desks.

   One conference room held a large number of lawyers around a table. At
   least 3 of them were good. These lawyers were the mules of the operation.
   They were each assigned one or more states. Yet there were things going on
   at the state level or below, bubbling up organically, and local lawyers
   jumping in filing actions. I came to learn that between Rudy’s legal
   team and the campaign staff there was 0 communication, even though they
   jointly occupied 2/3 of an office story. And between the campaign staff
   and the activities of those local groups and their lawyers, there was also
   0 communication. I did not know if that was for a legal reason or just the
   way they operated.  In time, I came to realize it was the latter.

   The Mediocrity – I am not going to be mean about it. For example, I am
   not going to reveal the gender or other details about this person (other
   than to say, imagine a person who is a lawyer and who had once made a
   career at one of the better-known government agencies). But given how the
   Mediocrity went out-of-way to be horrible to work with, and because of how
   stunningly destructive Mediocrity's behavior was, I am simply to refer to
   the person as, "Mediocrity”.

   The Commish – Think of Mike, from Breaking Bad. The quintessential cop.
   Tough, correct, and courteous, but stays poker-faced and dead-eyed at all
   times. Sits in meetings with his hand casually covering his mouth, saying
   nothing. When asked something, might open his mouth, and if he does he
   invariably has something highly intelligent to say. Making one wonder,
   “Why does he work so hard to keep his opinion to himself?”

   The Mayor – Rudy Giuliani. I spent the late 1980's in a hospital in New
   York City, and remember occasional Mafia killings outside Brooklyn joints
   or some mid-town steakhouse (it was always good for business, they’d
   say). Rudy was US Attorney there and then, breaking up the Mob. I always
   felt an affinity for him because of that overlap in time and place. And of
   course, on 9/11, Rudy became “America’s Mayor”.  In the years after
   that we intersected a few times, but when we crossed paths he never
   indicated he remembered me. His security company handled an issue for me
   when I was fighting Wall Street. I doubt he remembers, but when he ran for
   President a dozen years ago and came through Utah, local Republicans
   called me and asked to introduce Rudy at a gathering in a large Utah home
   being used for the gathering. I studied up on him, drove over, and gave a
   short introduction on Rudy Giuliani to the crowd, lasting about 30
   seconds. Rudy took over, we shook hands, and that was the sum of my
   contact with Rudy Giuliani in his political days.

   I do remember something from the Q&A that day that impressed me. A
   question on abortion came from the staunchly pro-life crowd. Rudy answered
   the questioner’s thrust, “No, I’ll never support a law that
   criminalizes abortion for the woman. Laws on abortion have always been
   directed at the activities of the doctors, not the mothers. I’ll never
   put a woman in jail for having an abortion. If that is what you folks are
   looking for, I’m not your man.” He lost 2/3 of the audience in that
   moment, but gained the respect of 1/3, among them, myself, if only out of
   respect for such rare directness from a politician.


   So 12 years later, on a Friday afternoon at about 3 PM,  I walked into the
   office space that was being shared by the Trump campaign and by the law
   firm that was forming up around Rudy Giuliani to investigate, address, and
   challenge, the election irregularities which were surfacing from the 2020

   It was nothing like the outfit that I expected to find (explained above),
   with data-gathering feeding decision-making feeding information loops to
   keep a large and geographically distributed workforce operating
   successfully. Law firms are notoriously poorly-managed businesses, in any
   case, they truly are, but the law firm-campaign space that had taken shape
   within that office was a particular shit-show. People wandered vaguely
   from meeting to meeting. The meetings I saw were run like bull sessions,
   with no agenda, no format, and no apparent sense of urgency.

   Within about 45 minutes I was ushered to a room where I was to have 30
   minutes with Rudy. Physically he was more of a grandfather than I had
   remembered, a bit less robust, a bit more hunched, and a bit more
   irascible. I explained to him carefully the outline of what we understood
   at that point, an outline such as the reader might have after watching
   this presentation by the MIT Math Ph.D. Dr. Shiva, or the exposition by
   Seth Keshel, as well as the cascade of stories regarding porous security
   in election software all referenced above. I feared overwhelming him, so I
   tried to simplify. As I spoke he occasionally grunted stoically, and it
   was difficult to judge what was sinking in. After about 10 minutes Rudy
   started checking his multiple phones for texts, right in front of me as we
   sat together. Conversing with one of his assistants, sending someone on a
   side errand, or receiving a report back. It felt rather strange to be
   talking to a man who was paying so little attention, but the Commish,
   sitting on the side, motioned for me to continue. After no more than 30
   minutes I was ushered out of the office, but told to hang around.

   Eventually, I was brought back into a smaller room with Mayor Giuliani,
   and again asked to explain what I think happened. Realizing I may have
   overwhelmed him with my earlier explanation, and gotten him lost in the
   forest for the trees, I broke it down simply and slowly, like one would
   for one’s 76-year-old Grandfather. Again within 5-10 minutes he was
   fidgeting, grunting on occasion, sending people on unrelated side errands,
   checking his multiple phones for texts, and typing responses….
   Meanwhile, I tried to stay on track. Yet there was a moment 15 minutes in
   when I got a whiff of something in that small office…. Medicine? Booze?
   Just as I was taking a sniff to determine, someone rushed in with some
   unrelated issue, and I was escorted from the office.

   Again I wandered around among the staff, most of whom were professing to
   know nothing about what was going on, and many others of whom were packing
   up their desks into bankers’ boxes.  I was perplexed and found myself
   drifting around the convoluted office space. 30 minutes later I was
   strolling outside some other conference room down the hall when I heard
   Rudy’s familiar voice saying, “…don’t understand a goddamn thing
   this guy’s saying…” drifting out of a doorway. Startled, I looked
   around the corner, and there was Rudy talking to whatever group of
   staffers happened to be sitting worshipfully in that conference room to
   which he had moved.

   Several staffers pulled me aside in a hallway. What Mayor Giuliani  is
   going to need, one told me, is a one page summary. Very simplified.. A

   Another piped up, And bulletpoints. The Mayor likes bulletpoints!

   Another added, but with graphs and data.

   But no more than one page! Repeated the first.

   At the risk of sounding snobbish, I was insulted by Mediocrity and these
   20-something staffers giving me writing advice, and such asinine advice at
   that. I told them I would get them something by the end of the weekend. 48
   hours. I requested one favor: any other requests that came from them
   should be orchestrated through one of their people, who would call one
   person whom I would designate among my colleagues, and that way we would
   have structure, and keep track of deliverables as we sought to accommodate
   their needs so that it would not all turn into a shit-show.

   Then I left and drove back to DC. Within a few hours, I learned that there
   were three different open requests from three different people on Rudy’s
   team to various of my colleagues. One of Rudy's people was only going to
   handle passing requests of this type, one only wanted to handle passing on
   requests of that type… And the shit-show began.

   I do not want to claim that everybody in that large but melting office
   space was incompetent. As I said, there were three smart, competent,
   skillful lawyers (a fourth if one counted a Constitutional law scholar who
   was in-and-out).  And there was a supermodel pretty 21-year-old acting as
   a senior assistant (at first I thought, "That's not a good look on you,
   Rudy", but it turned out she was extremely competent and professional,
   perhaps the most of anyone there). Yet the atmosphere was one of despair,
   staffers were wondering around in the dark, and the meetings seemed like
   sophomore bull sessions rather than anything organized and disciplined.

   From occasional contacts with several of those staffers over the weeks
   that followed, I learned what had happened just before I arrived that
   first day. Rudy had declared, “You can never prove election fraud in a
   courtroom!” and had insisted that it was not going to be part of their
   legal strategy. The strategy was going to be to challenge things on
   procedural grounds: “This county in this state had one set of rules,
   this other county in that same state used a different set of rules, that
   violates the Equal Protection Clause of the 14 Amendment.”

   So I was correct: just before I arrived there had been a blow-up between
   Rudy and Sidney Powell, ending with Rudy shouting at Sidney and sending
   her away in front of an office of dozens of people. And declaring that
   none of this was going to be about election fraud, and putting his
   mule-lawyers to work on procedural filings.

   Later, a member of Rudy’s team told me that initially, Rudy had not even
   wanted to do that much. He had wanted to make three more-or-less token
   challenges in three states, then call it a day. Sidney’s insistence that
   he was missing the Big Picture had caused Rudy ultimately to relent and
   allow a more aggressive posture to be taken. But still, nothing was to be
   about election fraud and the possibility of a mass rigging of the
   election. Rudy could tolerate hearing about a couple of hundred dead
   people in Philadelphia voting, but he did not want to hear about anything
   more sophisticated than that.

   That Friday afternoon, November 6, the first time I arrived there just
   days after the election, I had, in fact, stumbled in on Sidney just as she
   was recovering from that exchange. And Sidney had sent me to talk to Rudy
   because she needed someone else to explain what she was herself just
   realizing: a new form of election fraud had emerged that was not about
   hundreds of dead people voting in some city but was about the possibility
   of several hundreds of thousands of votes being injected into each of
   several certain locations.  Rudy had just not been processing any of it
   from her, and probably did no better from me, and that was why he kept
   trying to talk with me about how Joe Frazier (1944- 2011) was still voting
   in Philadelphia.

   Over that weekend, Sidney sent a brilliant female junior attorney over to
   sit with me and a few of the dolphin-speakers (a name I use for the
   cyber-heads who enjoy geeking-out to each other in technical acronyms).
   That junior lawyer had anticipated staying 30 minutes, but after an hour
   and a half she went into the next room and called Sidney. I overheard her
   tell Sidney that we had the goods, or at least a well-developed
   understanding of what had gone on in various states, and even specific

   From that point forward our relationship with Sidney was perfect. As we
   researched and discovered things, we brought them to her and her staff,
   and they would listen closely, patiently, and ask intelligent questions.
   And they began incorporating the material into their pleadings.

   That being the case, I will say no more about how Sidney and I worked.


   Mark Twain once ended a long letter to a friend by writing, “If I’d
   had more time I would have written you a shorter letter.”  In those two
   days after meeting the Mayor in his offices, I had time, and by Sunday
   afternoon I was putting the finishing touches on the most simplified
   one-page account that I could possibly create. My aim was to pare the
   story down until this time the Mayor could not lose the forest for the
   trees, and the Mayor would grasp the entire narrative in one succinct
   one-page bullet point read. At that point, once he understood the Big
   Picture, we could begin diving in on each of the sub-claims: data would be
   gathered, affidavits taken, and so on. But to begin with, Rudy needed to
   read and absorb a one-page briefing (in fact it was about 80% of a page),
   into which I had distilled the research of about a half-dozen different
   people who had been working down a half-dozen different alleys.  It was as
   pure a distillate as could be achieved if I say so myself. I included a
   second page of one graph, concerning one state, backing up a claim made in
   that one-page narrative: once Rudy grasped that, I figured, once we agreed
   where we were, I would then supplement with additional graphs for each of
   the other relevant states. Affidavits that were being gathered would be
   adduced to document each of the other points made. And so on and so forth.
   But this time we were going to crawl, walk, run.

   Sunday evening I got a phone call at 11 PM, telling me Mayor Giuliani and
   his entourage were dining in such-and-such a Georgetown restaurant, and
   would I mind bringing what I had written over to them. I got dressed and
   went, but when I arrived his security told me to sit in the bar and wait.
   I did for  45 minutes until someone came out of the Mayor’s private
   dining room to tell me the Mayor asked that I not come back to his table
   (security was concerned about me, apparently), but asked me to simply send
   into the private dining room the paper I had written. I sent it in, then

   Later, people in that room told me what happened when my paper arrived.

   First, in the 90 minutes between 11:30 PM and 1 AM, Mayor Giuliani imbibed
   three triple scotches on ice. Those relating this story could not vouch
   for what he had drunk before 11:30.

   Second, in front of everyone, Rudy took my paper and read it for perhaps
   45 seconds, then put it aside saying, “I’ll get to this later.”

   Third, the Mediocrity was at the table. The Mediocrity picked up the
   one-pager Rudy had set down, and holding it between fingers like it was a
   turd, announced with a laugh, “Can you believe Byrne worked all weekend
   and this is all he wrote?”

   Nine hours later, Monday morning at 10 AM, Rudy Giuliani took the stage at
   a joint press conference held with Sidney Powell and Jenna Ellison. Rudy
   was meant to give a synopsis of where things stood, and then introduce
   Sidney Powell, who was going to discuss the possibility of mass election
   fraud on a scale no one was yet comprehending. That it was not about a
   couple hundred dead people voting here, or a few hundred illegals voting
   there, but about something deeper, systemic….. Unprecedented.

   Instead of sticking to the plan, Rudy Giuliani got carried away, and
   huffed and puffed his way around the stage for 40 minutes about how many
   hundreds of dead people had voted here and how illegal people had voted
   there….. And Joe Frazier still voted! As he worked himself up like
   Grandpa, repeating all the same points he had been making for days, hair
   die ran down both sides of his face, unnoticed.

   Nine hours earlier, he had had nine shots of whiskey in under 90 minutes.


   Another story that came to me from those times within Rudy’s offices:
   One Pennsylvania lawyer, a female, had taken on the job of a filing in
   Pennsylvania. She received a message from opposing Kirkland & Ellis
   counsel that was so threatening, so unprofessional, that Kirkland later
   had to withdraw from the case INSERT CLIPe. Shaken, the female
   Pennsylvania lawyer turned in a draft filing but withdrew her
   representation. Rudy had had to find a firm, overnight, that would finish
   the Pennsylvania filing. He finally found a lawyer in Texas with election
   experience who finished it and got it filed in Pennsylvania. It made no
   mention of election fraud and was instead focused on the procedural Equal
   Protection arguments. Rudy only read it on his way traveling to the
   Pennsylvania court where he was to defend it: upon reading it, he
   apparently told his companions, This is the worst piece of shit filing
   I’ve ever had to stand up in a courtroom and defend.  He went into that
   Pennsylvania courtroom and was destroyed. Here is a partial transcript:

     Matthew W. Brann, U.S. District Judge: So it's correct to say then that
     you're not alleging fraud in the amended complaint?

     Rudy Giuliani: No, your honor, it does not, because we incorporate by
     reference in 150 all of the allegations that precede it, which include a
     long explanation of a fraudulent, fraudulent process, a planned
     fraudulent process.

     Judge: I understand that. So the amended complaint, does the amended
     complaint plead fraud with particularity?

     Rudy: No, your honor, and it doesn't plead fraud. It pleads the, it
     pleads the plan, the scheme that we lay out in 132 to 149 without

     SOURCE: audio clip


   We got a call from Rudy’s team that we needed to have a set of computer
   forensic specialists down in Georgia the following morning. They would be
   provided access to a set of voting machines they could “exploit”. The
   licensed and certified computer forensic people in question demanded
   answers, such as, Where are the machines? What kinds of machines are they?
   Tampering and playing around with election equipment being a federal
   felony, under what legal authority will we be operating? Will there be law
   enforcement there to review and document all actions taken, for any
   chain-of-evidence questions that might later arise?

    The response from Rudy’s team was, “We’ve got all that covered. Get
   down to Georgia, stat!”

   With misgivings, I caused the requisite people to fly into Georgia from
   various locations. They were driven to a precinct where, it turned out,
   someone had indeed vaguely promised that access would be given to
   machines…. But that person was not there that day. Or had changed his
   mind. The dolphin-speakers sat around then were driven to another precinct
   where, this time, they were told there would be someone with a court order
   granting them access to certain machines. No such person was there, but a
   group of hostile county employees was. Again they sat around waiting for
   Rudy's lawyers to arrange paperwork, but nothing arrived. After hours of
   waiting in the parking lot, in the early evening, they drove away, and as
   they sat at a traffic light a half-mile down the street they saw 17 police
   cars, lightbars flashing, go rolling by to the building they had just
   left. My cyber-buddies quickly and safely returned to their respective


   Over the next month and a half, a number of my colleagues interacted with
   Rudy from time to time, afternoons and evenings, and weekends. Nearly all
   mentioned two things: the inordinate amount of attention he was paying to
   his daily podcast, and his drinking. His own staffers were bringing it up
   to us. Something was clear to all who were around him: almost every
   evening, and many early afternoons, Rudy was shit-faced. That, and his
   podcasts, were the only guarantees in Rudy’s life.


   Let me move on, and instead, describe what I have only previously hinted
   at. In the days after the election people were getting in contact from all
   over the country. Often, there were networks of people in various states,
   self-organizing and diving in on various aspects of the rig: what people
   had experienced in polling stations, what they had been told, what polling
   observers had experienced. These people sent delegations to find me. Soon
   there were witnesses to various events flying in, along with the "leaders"
   of networks who had found me. I was deluged with offers of assistance:
   volunteers from all over the country, many with backgrounds in law
   enforcement and military, were getting in touch through the grapevine and
   asking to be allowed to help in any way. It felt like anyone with half a
   brain could see the Rig, the telling patterns. None wanted to be paid,
   though at the expense of DeepCapture I would fly people to see other
   people and put them up in hotels to get debriefed.

   So in that first week after the election, I was fashioning ... exactly
   what I expected to find in Rudy’s office. An “operation,” of some
   kind. We had the cyber-guys already, and quants, before November 3. But by
   a few days after the election, we had so many witnesses and whistleblowers
   and people with relevant stories seeking us out, and so many were flying
   to DC to find me, that we had to set up operations in hotels scattered
   around the city. From our volunteers with a background as military
   officers, we found our debriefers and created a system where they were
   privately and professionally meeting with the whistleblowers and
   witnesses, listening to their stories, and crafting summaries. These were
   being fed up into a chain of analysts, who were jockeying those pieces
   together with information coming together from our cyber guys, and other
   sources, and building a picture of increasing granularity of what had
   happened on November 3-4.

   Somewhere in the months before the election General (ret.) Michael Flynn
   and I had met telephonically. We had known of each other for many years,
   as there is a strange connection between us, a deceased man who had played
   a role in both of our lives decades past. Conversing with Mike was like
   meeting and speaking with another entrepreneur: we finished each other’s
   sentences and saw what needed to be done almost without conversing. At
   some point, he arrived on the scene, and I told him in detail about this
   assemblage of talents that had come together in various ways: the cyber
   guys, the quants, the flow of witnesses and affiants into our circle, our
   structure of multiple debriefers, our information flow back up to a circle
   of analysts putting everything together.  I had rough-hewn the whole
   structure expecting Mike’s eventual arrival, with the understanding that
   when he arrived I would be handing the keys to it over to him. Mike seemed
   to be pleased with the steps that had been taken thus far, within a week
   of the election.

   I received a request from him to relocate the top of that structure to a
   location far away from DC, far away from any city, in fact. The
   information flow that was springing into existence was to come up those
   networks from around the country, through the capillaries of the
   debriefers and report writers, and into a central analytic station. I
   thought of that as "the liver". Mere yards away, there would be an office
   full of lawyers acting as the legal intake for the information we were
   pulling up. In short, the structure I had built by instinct, he wanted to
   be plugged into the lawyers who would be playing the legal chess. We
   agreed that both Sidney and Rudy would get all output from this

   I moved the structure to the location he requested. There was a team of
   lawyers in place there. However, around them, there were a variety of
   people with no discernible roles and who gave me the creeps. One ex-Agency
   female, a large, loud woman, and not a lawyer, suddenly became quite the
   unbidden organizer. Another participant, a cocky English man with a
   military background, suddenly announced that he was the gatekeeper between
   this room and that. It all began giving me quite a nasty feeling. But
   after only two days I got word from Flynn: things having been stood up and
   roughed-out as we had agreed (as had seemed obvious to both of us, with
   barely a need to converse), Flynn called and told me he wanted to fly in
   and take over, and have me go back to DC to start speaking to the public.
   We agreed we would cross paths for 30 minutes in a certain location as we
   switched places

   I got ready to leave. I told the cocky British man that I needed him to
   pass on three key messages to someone I was not going to have a chance to
   see before leaving. He agreed. I said each one simply, and he nodded
   curtly after each. When I was done I asked him if he understood. He said
   casually, “Yep. Got 'em all.”

   “OK, repeat them back to me,” I told him. He stared at me, unblinking.
   “You say you got them, so repeat them to me.” He could come up with
   nothing. He had not actually listened to a word. I told him to get a pen
   and paper and make three notes. He did so begrudgingly.

   For some reason, I was supposed to take the ex-Agency woman back to DC
   with me. We drove to the location at which Mike Flynn was arriving. Once
   there, the female slipped off to the side and told someone that she had
   learned something that meant she had to stay behind. Flynn arrived, and we
   had 30 minutes on a tarmac together. We caught up, synched up. I told him
   that I had misgivings about a British guy who was at the camp, and about
   the ex-Agency woman who was hovering around me. Then I left.

   The next day, back in DC, I received the word: the ex-Agency woman had
   made up a lie to get permission to stay, but it had all unraveled on her.
   It had something to do with something I had asked her to do or had asked
   her not to do, or some research, or something: whatever it was, it was a
   fabrication (barely a word had passed between us), designed to get herself
   turned around and reassigned to stay in that operation in the countryside.
   She was confronted, blubbered, and spilled the beans: she was actually
   working for someone else, and was supposed to stay down in that operation
   in the countryside, spying and reporting back. They also confronted the
   cocky British guy, and though I think he never broke, I am told he was
   definitely implicated in the minds of everyone there. Security walked both
   characters off of the premises. After their departure, a device of some
   kind was found wired in one of the key rooms on the premises.


   Now, this is not to say that all time was being wasted. The structure of
   information flow I described, the one that had self-organized (and perhaps
   I had rough-hewn), was taken over by a three-star General who had led a
   career in Military Intelligence, and he made it far better. Soon it was
   spitting out refined analyses that began informing and filling up the
   briefs Sidney Powell was writing.  We made sure that everything that was
   provided was also provided to Rudy.

   That is the background to presentations such as the ones I have been
   referencing. Again, for an excellent example, watch Seth Keshel, here.
   Seth is a former Army Captain (Intelligence) and played a key role in that
   structure I just described. Seth is a quirky guy, a poly-sci junky,
   certainly on the spectrum, and just all about the precinct math. That link
   goes to a 21-minute video that provides an excellent example of the kinds
   of work that was being done within the structure that had self-organized,
   been rough-hewn by me, then received great refinement from Mike Flynn. For
   a good understanding of the type of work that was being done, you should
   watch at least a portion of this.

   If this video does not play click here:

   IFrame: _ytid_73680

   Still, back in DC, rejoined with my cyber-colleagues, we became aware of a
   disconnect we could not seem to fix. The Mediocrity had evolved into our
   point of contact with Rudy’s team, and nothing seemed to flow well. On
   November 26, Thanksgiving Day, we were all sitting together in a
   restaurant in DC, and discussing their problems. Sitting there eating our
   turkey dinner, they gave me quite an earful. How the Mediocrity was
   super-controlling about information, plans, access. How the Mediocrity
   seemed to think they were peons, were telling them, “Go here, go
   there,” with no explanatory information, no sense of “Hey teammates,
   this is what is going on, and we are going to work on it together!” I
   had trouble believing the stories they were telling me. Among them were
   some horrible ones concerning the Mediocrity's proclivity for hitting on
   people of the opposite gender, and possibly the same gender, in ways that
   were embarrassing to all present (the Mediocrity had asked one of my
   colleagues to meet one evening, and when the Mediocrity's hotel door
   opened the Mediocrity was in underwear, waiting). But now it was boiling
   over, they said, because they had received an order that they were all to
   be in Antrim, Michigan in two days. Again, Mediocrity would answer no
   questions about where exactly they were going, what machines they were
   expecting to find, under whose authority would they be opening machines
   and imaging hard drives, even how long would they be there, should they
   arrange their own rental cars, etc. None of it was explained. The
   Mediocrity had just sent word to be in such-and-such a place in Michigan,

   Then, life being as it is, we looked up, and damned if there wasn't the
   Mediocrity strolling through the restaurant not far from our table. We
   caught each other’s eye, and soon Mediocrity was coming towards us.
   Thinking it was a nice opportunity to pour oil on troubled waters, I
   received Mediocrity gracefully, intending to converse in front of my
   colleagues civilly, and get things back on track.

   Soon, the talk turned to Michigan, and I was asked would I be able to get
   the right people there at the appointed hour. Thinking I might use it as a
   moment of management development, I gently suggested, “You know, when we
   get requests like these, it would be good to be better informed. My
   colleagues want to know things like, ‘Exactly where will they be going?
   Are the people there going to be cooperative? What kinds of machines might
   we be exploiting? What legal authority is enabling them to image one of
   these voting machine hard drives? Are people going to be staying
   overnight? Will there be rental cars provided?’ You know, just the
   basics before people get thrown on another mission like what happened in

   “Look,” the Mediocrity said, standing over us at late Thanksgiving
   Dinner. “First, what is your corporate structure?”

   We all looked at each other, male and female, 75, Weaponized Autism and
   others, not previously having given the matter much thought. We were just
   a bunch of people who had found each other and were trying to expose what
   looked like a world-historic election fraud together. Finally I said,
   “Our corporate structure is that we’re the Bad News Bears. I’m team

   “Ok Patrick,” Mediocrity continued. “Here’s what’s going on.
   I’ve told you where you need to be in Michigan on Saturday. Be there. Or
   tell us you cannot, and we’ll find someone who can.”

   In my astonishment I began to respond, and to my further astonishment, the
   Mediocrity began speaking over me. “I’m telling  you where you need
   your team to be. If you can’t handle it-"

   I used something I had not used in a couple decades, something I had seen
   an economist professor friend do to another professor, a Lefty, who had
   continuously interrupted him (as Lefties are want to do in place of having
   good arguments).  I just started speaking, “Well it may sound like I was
   finished speaking but I actually wasn’t and while you might think you
   are going to speak over me actually I am just going to continue talking
   like this until you shut up and I did not care if it takes all night
   because I know that it may have sounded like I was finished but actually I
   wasn’t and...…” and so on and so forth. Without a break. For about
   15 seconds until the Mediocrity got that I was serious, and was just going
   to continue speaking like that until the Mediocrity shut up. Which
   eventually the Mediocrity did, looking somewhat astonished, having
   evidently gotten away with such behavior in decades of federal employment.

   At which point I politely said, “Where in the fuck do you get off? We
   don’t work for you. We are volunteers here offering to help you do
   things you have no clue how to do.  Go find someone else anytime you want.
   The way you people work in this city is astonishing. If you ever try to
   work at a modern company like Google, or Facebook, your ass will be fired
   in a New York minute. You suck.”

   I surprised myself, because I do not normally speak that way to people,
   but I did that time. Perhaps it was three weeks of frustration boiling
   over. I told Mediocrity that conversations with Mediocrity were constant
   games of narcissist deflection, how amateurish Mediocrity was, how anyone
   walking around saying things like “Either you do this or I find someone
   who will!” and “Failure is not an option!” is a mediocrity who may
   have learned management within government but who if ever moved to the
   private sector would get fired by noon. When making such requests of my
   colleagues, any competent person would provide relevant information. Fill
   them in on the mission, let them brainstorm, they'll likely be able to

   I saw Mediocrity was crestfallen, and realizing I had overdone it, I
   gently escorted Mediocrity away from the table. I tried to soothe things
   over a bit, and put a nice façade on things, and not leave Mediocrity
   embarrassed. As we parted, Mediocrity turned to me and said, “Don’t
   worry. I’ll be with the President. I’ll make sure you get full credit
   for all of this.”

   Exasperated, I returned to my seat and friends. Minutes later we saw that
   Mediocrity had, in fact, been part of a larger party, and walking out with
   that party was none other than Mayor Giuliani. I quickly sidled up to him.
   It was about 10:30 PM, his step seemed unsteady, and I went to his elbow
   like one would escorting an unsteady Grandpa to his taxi. We tried
   speaking, but he was indistinct. Finally I told him, “Sir, this is not
   working out well with your colleagues. May I respectfully request a way
   that I might contact you directly, so we can keep things on better
   track?” The Mayor pulled out his cell phone and had me take his number.

   In that weeks that followed I called and texted that number on at least a
   half-a-dozen occasions. Not once did Mayor Giuliani ever respond to me.


   Over these weeks I got to know a number of excellent White House staffers.
   Smart young men and women in their late twenties, generally. Some (but not
   all) were Trump enthusiasts. They filled me in on details here and there,
   snippets of what was happening behind the scenes among the campaign, Rudy,
   and the White House. One evening, once we were close enough, I let down my
   hair and said, “This is a shit-show. Is this …. normal?” One of the
   staffers (and mind you, a pro-Trump one) said, “This is it. This is the
   Trump White House. This is how everything has run for four years.”


   The Bad News Bears got where they needed to be in Michigan, when they
   needed to be there.  The Mediocrity was there, along with other lawyers
   and staff from Rudy’s team. They went to the precinct in which they were
   expected, and like Georgia, it was a bust. The machines were not what we
   had been led to expect. No real authorities were there, or law
   enforcement, or warrants: just a mildly cooperative 75 year old lady
   working in a public building that had acted as a voting precinct.

   While the Mediocrity hung around chatting up county workers of the
   opposite sex, the dolphin-speakers went to work. It turned out the 75 year
   old lady who ran the place had a story about how, on the day after the
   election, some people from “County” had shown up and instructed her to
   insert her card and re-run her machine using some different inputs. What
   she was saying did not make sense, and it was clear that they had taken
   advantage of an elderly woman who probably does not send her own texts.
   Finally she mentioned that, unbeknownst to County, she had kept both the
   paper audit trail of the original run, and the re-run, and had stored them
   in a closet. Our geeks got excited, and had her bring them out: they
   unrolled them on a long carpet, and in a few minutes of study, they began
   finding things. Alarming things.

   The Bad News Bears finally got Mediocrity to break away from Coffee-Klatch
   With The Deputies, and pointed out what they were finding in the paper
   audit rolls. Finally they suggested, “You are a lawyer, right? Don’t
   you think you should be getting some affidavits here?" Startled, "Oh yes,
   of course,” scrambled Mediocrity, and did so, getting affidavits from
   the 75 year old lady and one or two other employees who had useful

   Those learnings and those affidavits were fed to a Michigan lawyer who was
   pursuing an own election fraud case in Michigan. Days later a judge read
   it, and found it alarming enough he gave a court order for a formal
   exploitation of the Antrim County voting machines. The Bad News Bears
   returned to Antrim County and this time, with a proper court order in
   their pocket, they were able to image hard drives, and returned to base
   camp with those images. By working in staggered shifts around the clock,
   over the next four days they performed a month’s worth of work, first
   breaking the security on the imaged hard drives, then reconstructing the
   files, then analyzing them. That was all fed up through the system, and
   emerged about a week later as an eye-opening report that created a
   national stir, known as the Antrim County Computer Forensics Report.

   Other telling things were happening nationally. Some concerned federal
   employees had been tracking events in a Western state, and were sure they
   knew how vote flipping was being done there. The problem is, the relevant
   judge (a Democrat), when asked to allow inspection, would insist on
   stalling for a couple days, thus giving time for the opposition to go in
   and do a “smash-down” (a hacker’s term for fixing the evidence
   after-the-fact, in anticipation of an audit, and making sure everything
   ticks and ties correctly). But they made a mistake in one location, and
   their smash-down failed. The data that turned up was so telling, so
   indicative of fraud, that the lawyers went back to the judge arguing it
   provided grounds for a far more sweeping order that would let them examine
   machines across the state.  The judge agreed in principle, but suggested
   that the precinct needed to have its data verified again before he could
   use its discrepancies to justify such a sweeping order.  The concerned
   federal employees put the location in question under observation, and sure
   enough, that night there were three cars in the precinct parking lot. They
   were redoing their smash-down so that this time it would work. The license
   plates on those cars tracked back to a left-wing union which shows up
   repeatedly in the background of events of recent months. But in the
   morning the data was fixed, and no further orders were coming out of that

   However, unbeknownst to all, the scientists in question had recovered
   enough material both to document the original, and the smash-down.


   Meanwhile, back in DC, I was hearing odd things out of Rudy-World. I was
   hearing that he was getting paid $20,000/week, and there were those
   claiming he was just mailing things in for that paycheck. However, later
   it was claimed that he was working for free, and the $20,000/day bill had
   been a billing error from an uninformed assistant.

   More importantly, from others in Rudy-world I began hearing the number
   “$207 million”. The claim was that the Republican Party had raised
   $207 million to “stop the steal”. In one version it grew past $300
   million. In one version of the staff rumor, the finger on the button for
   those millions was a high-level woman at the Republican National
   Committee. In another version, it was all jointly managed by that RNC
   woman and the Commish, and they were keeping an eye to the future. In
   almost everyone’s version of the story, $100 million had been set aside
   for future legal defense. But whoever was in charge, they were sitting on
   all the money, and I can promise, I never saw one penny of it being spent
   in any way to “stop the steal”.

   So whatever Republican loyalists around the country coughed up those
   hundreds of millions, in donations of $10 and $20…. They were all
   fleeced. It was a big joke: there was a pot of hundreds of millions of
   dollars given by Republican rank-and-file to Republican Bigshots to help
   reverse-engineer and unscramble whatever had happened on November 3, and
   not a penny was going to any activity related to doing so. It was all
   being held by people at the top licking their lips.


   In Georgia, there was a faction that had been in touch with me from days
   after the election. This was an interesting network of people with law
   enforcement and quasi-law-enforcement backgrounds. Since November 4 they
   had been reverse-engineering the Rig there. They had put people and
   locations under observation, had been filming varieties of activities
   through telephotos. They mapped and tracked numerous parties involved, and
   even tracked the organizers down to a small element, a Leninist cadre,
    who were staying in a motel together and managing shenanigans around the
   state.  For their own reasons this network helping me needed to stay in
   the shadows, yet as the weeks rolled by they were providing good
   information helping us reconstruct what had happened in Georgia.

   The fight there became increasingly surreal. A young man got involved who
   was both a staffer for a Senator, and dating the daughter of the governor,
   then his car exploded in an accident (see “BIZARRE EXPLOSION CRASH IN
   GEORGIA – KILLS HARRISON DEAL” December 5, 2020). It was on a 4-lane
   highway, it got struck on the side by another car...then it blew up. The
   engine was thrown 75 yards. Videos of the accident (most of which seem to
   have been removed from the internet) show a car burning in a fireball: it
   was quite an ornery car accident.

   Then the Georgia Bureau of Investigation got involved. Three days later,
   the officer conducting the investigation committed suicide.

   A technologist named Jovan Pulitzer (inventor of the ubiquitous QR-code)
   went public regarding his technologically-oriented investigations into the
   Georgia election. The best short video of Jovan explaining his work is

   IFrame: _ytid_18663


   Over those weeks, Rudy managed to schedule a few hearings in a few states.
   His plan had evolved to getting enough evidence in front of state
   legislatures that they would go off automatic pilot and begin making hard
   decisions. Most of these hearings were unofficial, conducted out of rented
   hotel spaces. His star witness was the Colonel from military intelligence
   with whom I had been working since August, who was brought to these
   different states to report and synthesize the information that the Bad
   News Bears were surfacing.  He did an able and convincing job, but we all
   began to wonder: What’s the strategy here? Is there a strategy? Rudy’s
   strategy (if there is one) just seems to be a long march through the
   courts. Taking cases to the states and appellate levels. Imagining he is
   going to win by running the tables through the court system. Or getting
   state politicians to do something brave. But that was not going to work,
   as the courts are ponderous anywhere, especially disinclined to get
   involved in election matters, and were already setting court dates out
   past January 20. And politicians do not do brave things. Yet Rudy just
   kept plodding along, with an occasional hearing, a daily podcast. It did
   not make any sense.


   One activity that began bearing fruit was our investigations into foreign
   involvement in the election. This will be the subject of a piece of its


   Mike, Sidney, myself, and others developed a Solution-in-a-Can. It was
   really the solution we had started within in mid-November, but redone by a
   top-notch lawyer and a 3-star General. Under various orders signed
   previously by both Obama and by Trump, if an election had foreign
   entanglement, the President had a broad spectrum of powers. There was
   indisputable evidence of foreign involvement on countless fronts, but we
   were asking that only a narrow set of his powers be invoked: based on the
   information that had been turned up, the President should use his powers
   under the requisite Executive Orders to send US Marshalls and the National
   Guard into the five problematic counties, open up the paper ballot
   backups, and recount them on livestreamed TV. If there were no big
   discrepancies, Trump would concede. If there were big discrepancies, such
   as half-a-million vote discrepancies that we suspected might fall out,
   then more aggressive courses of action could be countenanced, such as
   re-rerunning the election in those counties or states. The recount of the
   five counties could be easily done in under a week, and if it justified
   further action, the entire resolution could still be achieved on a
   Constitutional timeline.

   It was either that, or an election whose integrity was doubted by 47% of
   the electorate had to be choked down.

   General Flynn drafted a beautiful operational plan for such a mission. One
   signature from the President and the whole thing would be set in motion.
   The teams created from the right military and National Guard Units, the
   precise directives to each… The most expansive version of the plan had
   recounting to be conducted in 17 counties around the nation, Democrat and
   Republican, so no one could claim that targets were cherry-picked (beyond
   the Problematic 6). That most expansive version of the plan envisioned
   paper ballot recounting, plus imaging of hard drives of these voting
   machines for further forensic analysis (but not “seizing” the
   machines: they were to be left in place, and just have their hard drives
   imaged). An uber-expansive version of the plan would have had the paper
   ballots not just recounted, but forensically audited (but we thought that
   was too much to ask for with the possible exception of Georgia). However,
   in a pinch, we could hit just the Problematic 6 counties, and even simply
   recount the boxes of paper ballots, and have a preliminary answer in 2-3
   days, thus ending a great deal of national drama. Mike and Sidney had the
   legal research, the draft finding, the general’s Execution Checklist
   that would, upon Presidential signature, make everything run like a Swiss

   And yet, things slid and slid. Rudy went off to organize a hearing in a
   hotel room and wanting one of our people there to speak…. Days spent
   waiting for warrants that never came…. Absolutely no sense that there
   was anyone with a plan, let alone executing one . We saw the
   Constitutional deadlines beginning to loom…

   The days turned into weeks. December came, then mid-December. Yes we had
   matters spinning in various states, yes we had cyber-teams inspecting
   packet traffic and finding foreign interactions, yes we were finding that
   every new voter in Nevada had his or her registration transmitted to
   Pakistan ISI, yes we were finding vote counting machines with wireless
   cards in rooms with smart thermostats that had been breached from
   overseas, yes we were learning why voting rolls were kept live
   overseas….. But Mike Flynn and I had a sense that our side was chasing
   its tail. That the other side was just running out the clock. And Rudy’s
   approach would surely allow that.

   At one point I learned how the President was staying involved.
   Periodically, the Mediocrity and Rudy Giuliani were going over to the
   White House to brief him. Really, no kidding: the person who was so bad my
   colleagues had declared they would quit rather than work another moment
   with that person, and the 76 year old guy who had trouble sending an email
   and was spending at least his evenings sloshed, were the ones explaining
   to the President the cyber-crime of all time and what his options were. At
   first I thought it was a sick joke, but I confirmed it.  The Mayor and the
   Mediocrity were the ultimate point-people on the mission of addressing
   this world-historic event.

   Flynn and I felt sick. A frequent subject of mutter between us ran along
   the lines, “Why the fuck are we doing this?” The president’s
   children were off, uninvolved, pep-rallying, or planning retirements.  We
   could detect no discernible strategy out of the President’s team, no
   marching orders, just an organization wandering around in circles and
   melting as it did so. A Mediocrity who was so bad, we had had to make
   special arrangements such that the Mediocrity did not have contact with
   our Bad News Bears, or they were going to flee. And the whole mess was led
   by a 76 year old gentleman, a man beloved by all including myself, but who
   six weeks into what might be the most sophisticated cyber-theft in all of
   history, still could not have a coherent conversation beyond, Did you hear
   that 211 dead people in Philadelphia voted? Dead people?!?!? And they
   voted! Joe Frazier's father voted! Have you heard?!?

   And then we would remember why were doing it: America’s brand is
   “elections”. It is what we do. We had a national election that appears
   to have been compromised in a remarkably precise yet strategic way, it
   shows the hand of foreign involvement, it may be part of a Chinese psyop
   to take over our country, and there might never be a free, non-goon
   election in America again. That’s why we were not supposed to quit, we
   often reminded each other.

   And that is why, a week before Christmas, General Mike Flynn, Sidney
   Powell, and I decided it was time to take a chance. By hook or by crook we
   were going to Jedi-Mind-Trick our way into the White House, maneuver our
   way to the Oval Office, and grab the President's attention ourselves. With
   no invitation.

   Patrick Byrne Follow A concerned citizen who has been hunting the
   oligarchy and Deep State since 2004.

     * The Deep Capture Campaign

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