Simulation Succotash: The Snow(malian)Job. Update
Well, here we are, yet again. Sorry, that's incorrect. Where the all encompassing world of digital and pixilated balderdash is concerned, we are always here . As I asserted in my original epistle on ye olde simulation , le grand fakenghey is a 24/7 operation, at least until such time as the populace wakes up in numbers that might conceivably move the needle regarding the nature of our existence. For the purpose of this latest installment on the simulation, I'm leveling my gimlet eyed gaze on the spectacular folderol in none other than Minnypolice, Minnysoma(lia), because, as my fabulous wordplay indicates, the ICEy doings in the great, not so white, north are absolutely rife with big, honking hints that we're dealing with a soup to nuts psychological operation. As my keenly astute compatriot, the Squid, observed: "It’s occurred to me that a significant part of the joke around the ice psyop is the staging of it in freezing cold, icy MN. Not to mention all the word asso...