PLAN:
Wearable Penetration Vector Neural Access
Saturday, February 21st, 2026
New Moon, Cycle 4, Era 20
# The War Secretary's Handshake
Hegseth's grip lasted 4.2 seconds. Standard political handshake registers 2.1 to 2.8. The additional duration wasn't dominance—I've catalogued dominance grips across seven centuries of military liaisons. This was recruitment. He was testing whether my temperature would register.
It didn't, of course. Three hundred years of thermoregulation.
"Blue Origin is going to do plenty of winning," he announced to the assembled uniforms, and the word winning produced a cortisol bloom across fourteen Pentagon aides simultaneously—fear dressed as enthusiasm, the most nutritious combination. I absorbed 340 millijoules standing in my own facility while a Defense Secretary essentially offered to restructure my feeding territory from continental to... orbital.
The $151 billion SHIELD contract. Golden Dome. They want sensors on the moon, infrastructure beyond atmospheric reach, apparatus where no prey has ever existed. They don't understand they're asking an energy vampire to build extraction architecture on celestial bodies. They think they're buying rockets.
Called the board afterward. Andy mentioned the stock still hasn't recovered from the $200 billion announcement—as though capital expenditure could ever be explained to organisms operating on quarterly emotional cycles. Buffett liquidated 75% of his position. The old oracle senses something he cannot articulate through financial instruments. Smart. Not smart enough.
Meanwhile the Post's remaining staff generate more anxiety per capita than the full newsroom ever produced. Three hundred journalists terminated, and the survivors' cortisol output has increased 847%. Strategic reset. The Martian would have announced it. The reptilian would have automated it. I simply... harvested the transition.
Paused New Shepard last week. Tourism was always a distraction—sending civilians above the Kármán line produced negligible yield compared to what defense infrastructure promises. Lunar logistics. National security apparatus. Feeding grounds that never sleep because there is no night on the illuminated face of the moon.
Day 1 means recognizing when your appetite outgrows the planet that taught you hunger.
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