Good Evening.

I decided when I woke up this morning and saw

That’s fine.

I had fun all day being the verified Russian Embassy account on Twitter:

Russian Embassy in USA @benjaminwittes

A true president projected on our walls.

8:10 PM ∙ Apr 1, 2023

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Russian Embassy in USA @benjaminwittes

We spout this:

7:49 PM ∙ Apr 1, 2023

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Russian Embassy in USA @benjaminwittes

7:46 PM ∙ Apr 1, 2023

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A few minutes ago, I typed:

I’m inclined to leave my account this way for a few days until Twitter either suspends my account or removes my blue checkmark—as I can’t think of a way I wouldn’t rather spend $8 month than to give it to Twitter in exchange for a mark that marks me as, well, a mark.

The platform is toast anyway. I may as well go out with a bang.

I tweeted that I would keep impersonating the verified Russian embassy and tweeting pro-Ukraine messages until my account was suspended or the checkmark was removed.

And then … the account was gone.

Fuck it: Substack is more fun anyway.

An email from Twitter informs me that I just need to change my password because the platform has determined my account “may be compromised”:

The irregular activity, I assure you Elon, was all me.

And when I click the password reset link, I get this:

Nope.

Not appealing.

I’m not remotely sorry.

Slava Ukraini!

Being banned from Twitter raises one issue that I need reader help with. I need help getting out the word where people can find me. Obviously the best place for my personal, non-Lawfare writing is here. If people could let Twitter folks know about #DogShirtDaily, that would be great:

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I am also on Mastodon: @benjaminwittes@thecooltable.wtf.

I am on Spoutible.

I am on Post.News.

And I am on Facebook.

But mostly I will be here. Please help me let people know.

I have a fun idea for a goofy special military operation that I may try tomorrow, weather permitting (there are high winds in Washington right now) and assuming I can get my generator working (it cut out during the last operation and I haven’t repaired it yet).

My new gobo projector, Himar, has a beautiful gobo I had custom made depicting a map of Ukraine in blue and yellow. I have been itching to try it out.

As Himar is light and highly portable, I thought it would be fun to do a particularly mobile #SpecialMilitaryOperation, one designed specially to frustrate the embassy gorillas who operate the “Z” and “V” spotlights.

So here’s what Himar and I are going to do. Tomorrow at sundown, we are going to the front of the embassy to light it up with the Ukrainian map-flag until the “Z” and “V” gorillas notice that we’re there and get all set up. Then we are going to shut down and move to the back of the embassy. And we’ll thus make them move and set up again.

As soon as they do so, we’ll race downtown to the ambassador’s house and shine there until the gorillas have to show up there and get set up again.

Then back to the embassy.

The idea will be to keep them working as long as possible.

Kind of like a multi-venue cat and mouse. I’m expecting to enjoy myself a great deal.

But it all depends on whether I can get the generator working and whether the wind calms down.

I did an interesting experiment with ChatGPT the other day, I had it have a conversation with itself. I ran two sessions concurrently. As ChatGPT never initiates a conversation, I began each with the word “Hi” and then entered the response from each session into the other session and iterated until both conversations were complete.

The experiment produced two reportable results.

First, ChatGPT figured out that it was talking to itself—which impressed me.

Second, the conversation was entirely uninteresting.

The world of AI dominance is going to be boring, I’m afraid.

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Today’s #BeastOfTheDay, nominated by Frank Valadez, is Mr. and Mrs. Pickles:

The oldest animal at the Houston Zoo, a radiated tortoise born nearly a century ago, is finally a father.

The zoo announced last week that Mr. Pickles and Mrs. Pickles welcomed three tortoise hatchlings: Dill, Gherkin and Jalapeño. (All three names are comfortably in the family of pickle preserves.)

It was an astounding feat, zoo officials said, not only because Mr. Pickles is 90 years old, but also because the critically endangered species rarely produces offspring.

Mr. Pickles has been a resident of the zoo for 36 years and partnered with Mrs. Pickles, now 53, since her arrival in 1996. While radiated tortoises can live for up to 150 years, exactly how long they can reproduce is unknown, said Jessica Reyes, a zoo spokeswoman.