Coronavirus – Planet X Connection Update No. 6:  Time On Target and Game Theory

| April 30, 2020

The Coronavirus – Planet X ConnectionThe disclosures in the Lt. General Michael Flynn case are coming out, and there is growing outrage over the evil done to a national hero.  Reversing that will be the opening salvo for the Patriots as this secret war goes public.

According to Wikipedia, “QAnon is a far-right conspiracy theory.”  For the record, the term “conspiracy theory” was invented by the CIA to discredit, humiliate and dismiss whistleblowers and those who speak truth to power.  Why Wikipedia asks for donations makes no sense, because the CIA check is in the mail.

With this in mind, what does the QAnon community see coming in the weeks and months ahead?  Pain for the Deep State actors, and this is tricky.  The Patriots are up against a much larger foe, and like the citizen farmers who climbed up trees for a clear shot at British officer, timing is everything

While there are many different possibilities for the future, there are two military strategies to watch for:  Time on target and game theory.

Time on Target

During WWII, the German 88 was considered by many to be the most deadly cannon of the war.  However, truth be known, the Germans thought it to be second-best, as they were confident that the allies had developed an automatic cannon that could first projectiles like an M2 Browning .50 caliber machine gun with devastating effect.

The reason why was during an artillery barrage from either side, there would be a brief time between salvos for those who survived the first salvo to get undercover.

The problem was, American artillery did not come in a series of salvos.

What stunned the Germans was that it came all at once, and it caught a lot of Nazis out in the open, and it slaughtered them.

Were they right?  Did America invent the automatic cannon? No.  We created Time on Target.

Time On Target is coordinated artillery fire, orchestrated by command center artillery officer who begins with the target coordinates and then creates a search ring around it for various artillery batteries within range.  Distance will be a factor, but so will the ammunition, and these are taken into account.

Once all of the available artillery batteries are accounted for, a time table is created.  The artillery batteries do not fire simultaneously. Rather, the firing beings with the batteries with the longest time to target, then the second-longest and so forth.

The timing is very precise, typically within two to three seconds, but the end effect is brutal.  Perfectly timed, all of the ammunition from all the batteries involved strikes the target area at one time.

What is the buzz in the QAnon community?  Q has been discussing a future market with six open slots.  They could be six defendants with multiple indictments, or six indictments with multiple defendants.  Either way, it will be Time On Target barrage, and it will rock the Deep State as well as the country.

The other thing to watch for is game theory.

Game Theory

Game theory is the science of strategy, with moves and counter-moves.  For the military, game theory is employed as an optimal decision-making tool.  It is a way of strategizing that requires a trained mind and to excel, a natural talent.  The Patriots are the masters of Game Theory.

The problem with Game Theory is that it is an abstract concept, and over the last year, I’ve searched for a more tangible way to explain this concept to civilians.

I finally found it.  It is an old anecdote called “Rule the Roost,” and it explains Game Theory with a singular finesse that is elegant, simple, and effective.

So without further ado, off we go to the chicken coop.  (This one is for my Washoe Warriors.)

Rule the Roost

One day, the farmer shows up at the chicken coop with a new young rooster.  Of course, the ladies are all agog and swooning over this handsome young rooster due to the promise of his apparent athletic abilities. Even a chicken can have six-pack abs appeal.

However, the old rooster of the coup is less enthusiastic, and he slowly struts out to get the bad news.  It was expected, after all.

Sensing his power, the young rooster parades back and forth, as the old rooster notices how the ladies simply cannot take their eyes off him.  It was the one thing every old rooster dreads; the final sum of all evil.  Yes, it was, dare say, ‘love at first beak,’ and it signaled that the end is near.

“Your day has come, and I rule the roost now, Pop,” the young rooster boasts with ample self-importance.

The old rooster wistfully nods in agreement.  “You’re right,” he admits, “and I knew this day would come and that someone just like you would come to take my place, but please consider this.  One day, it will happen to you too, so I have a small favor to ask.   Before I step aside and fade away, let me go with honor.  What I propose is a foot race around the pen, and to keep it fair, I ask for a small handicap.”

Now the ladies are simply beside themselves, clucking and flapping their wings like electric egg beaters on a high-speed setting.

The young rooster savors the moment and then responds, “OK, pops.  I’ll race you for the roost, but what’s the handicap?”

“A small but honorable one,” the old rooster replies.  “We’ll both walk to the far corner, and then I’ll start the race from there.  After I reach the corner on the opposite side, you start after me.  From there, the first bird to square the coop wins it.  That is, if you think you’re up to it?”

Now the ladies are looking at the two roosters, and their heads are flicking back and forth like lawn sprinklers, and the air becomes thick with suspense.  “You’re on pop,” the young rooster smugly answers, and so the two roosters slowly strut to the corner.

“Ladies, we have a race to run,” the old rooster announces in a loud and authoritative voice.  “You need to clear the floor area so up you go, girls.  Everyone on the straw.”

They happily obey and quickly clear the floor of the coop as the two roosters size each other up.

“So how come you’re so relaxed about all this?” the young rooster asks.

The old rooster sighs, “You know why.  Because I’ve known this day would come for some time and who is going to lose this race.  So now that you’ve had your fun, it’s time to get it over with.”

With that, the old rooster starts the race at a snappy pace, and the instant he reaches the far corner, the young rooster bolts out after him.  At this point, the ladies are clucking so loud with excitement; every dog in the county can hear them.

Meanwhile, both roosters are both running as fast as their drumsticks can carry them, and while the old rooster still has style, it’s evident to all that the young rooster has the speed.

As they turn the second corner, the young rooster closes the distance between himself and the old rooster to within a few feet.  Then, just as it seems the race is won, the coop is rocked by the sudden blast of a double-barrel shotgun, and the ladies are mortified to see the young rooster disappear in a hail of buckshot and feathers.  It was medieval.

The farmer ejects the spent shotgun shells, and as he walks away, he is overheard complaining to himself, “Damn, that’s the third queer chicken this week!”

And that Dear Reader is game theory.  Now you know.

Where We Go One We Go All

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