A strange letter

For a long time I've shared access to this account with a friend who has ... somewhat eccentric ... ideas about some aspects of recent history.  Well, I used to think he was only eccentric, but some of his recent posts look a bit worse than that: 'conspiracy theorist' and 'paranoid schizophrenic' seem like appropriate terms.

I've been thinking for a while that I should try to force him to get his own account:  I bet I'm violating the blipfoto terms of service by sharing mine, even though I hardly post anything now.  He's always adamantly refused to have any internet presence of his own because some imaginary 'they' will find him and do ... something ... so I let it ride.  Probably I shouldn't have.

Well, the situation seems to have resolved itself, in a slightly worrying way.  This morning a rather bedraggled and, well, odd young woman turned up at my door, carrying a package.  She told me some things which convinced me she actually had been in contact with him, gave me the package and ran off abruptly, saying she'd 'come back when it was safe'.  She had a really strange accent, and, well, she looked like someone who the faragists would definitely not be OK with living in their precious England (if they weren't too busy leering at her and doing the things that follow leering).  I'm slightly worried for her.

I was actually kind of nervous that the package (made of what looked like an old yellow oilskin coat!) might be a bomb or something.  But why would he want to blow me up?  I mean he's maybe mad, but not that mad.  I think?  Anyway, I decided I was being stupid, opened it and found my much-missed Ricoh GXR, which I'd lent to him (and regretted doing so pretty much ever since then: the Sigma dp2q is lovely, but it's not a replacement).  Missing its SD card, though, which is annoying.

And also this bit of paper, which is, frankly, fucking terrifying.  I've not been reading the elaborate commentaries attached to his recent posts (which is everything before yesterday since 2nd May: they're all tagged 'ssp'), but it looks like some insane delusion to me.  Except, well, I don't know if the stains are blood, but they look like blood, so ... I don't know.  And why couldn't he just send me an email or something like anyone else would: why send a message typed on some broken antique typewriter?  Who even has a typewriter?  I know what he'd say: it's because 'they' would read his email, because 'they' are after him.  It's all a bit alarming, even by 2022's rather high standards of alarmingness.

Well, I've changed my blipfoto password: he even asked me to.  There's nothing on www.scottish-interplanetary-society.org, at least not yet.  On the other hand the domain exists so, well, I don't know.

I'm going to tag this 'ssp' in case anyone is watching these.  If I find out anything else I'll make entries also tagged 'ssp'.  But I think we've probably seen the last of him.