Elizabeth Holmes: BLINK!

BLOGGER'S NOTE. It was not so long ago that the media were drooling over this woman, who perpetrated one of the biggest and most protracted medical frauds in history. She was literally dealing in blood. I did not have to do too much to these gifs to reveal her extreme sociopathy - it's all there right before your eyes.

This was one of the more astonishing puff-pieces that the media spewed out, completely naive and unquestioning as the seductress eyeballed her way into untold riches (and power - need we say it?). It took nine years for the bottom to drop out, but drop out it did, to the great disappointment of everyone who longed for a "girl" to come along and succeed like Steve Jobs did (Steve Jobs being the only standard anyone cares about) - and not any girl, but a blonde, blue-eyed one who never seemed to blink. I have since found out that it's typical among cult leaders.


ICONS & INNOVATORS

The Unusual Strategy That Made This Woman a Multibillionaire

Elizabeth Holmes's growth strategy flies in the face of conventional startup wisdom.

By Larry Kim CEO of MobileMonkey, Inc.@larrykim

In each generation, an elite few entrepreneurs skyrocket to almost unimaginable heights. Among that already select group, an even more exceptional group emerges: those whose business success affects society in such a way that they become forever ingrained in the public consciousness.

Warren Buffett, Oprah Winfrey, Steve Jobs, Bill Gates and now Mark Zuckerberg are a few examples of this top-tier, ultra-successful group. As self-made billionaires, they certainly experienced success, but they went on to become household names and forever cemented a place in history thanks to their innovation and ingenuity.

A young woman named Elizabeth Holmes is rapidly working her way toward this status.

Never heard of her? That's not surprising, and was actually by design.

Most entrepreneurs can't wait to get their startup in the news. You need customers to buy into your idea. You need the industry to take you seriously. You need investors to get on board and help you grow.

Looking back, Holmes was certainly a prodigy, though like many other billionaires, she dropped out of college to pursue her dream. In high school, she taught herself Mandarin and sold C compilers to Chinese universities. She went on to Stanford for chemical engineering, where she filed her first patent and traveled to Singapore to work on the SARS virus. Just ahead of her sophomore year, however, Holmes left Stanford behind and went after her dream of pioneering personalized medicine.

Her company, Theranos, was born of her desire to make the greatest change she could in the world, Holmes recently told the San Jose Mercury News.

She has spent the last 11 years developing a revolutionary blood-testing technology to run diagnostic tests with a single drop of blood, drawn by a painless fingerprick. Imagine completely accessible diagnostic testing available across the country, capable of running hundreds of tests with a tiny amount of blood--and at a fraction of the current cost.

It will fundamentally change health care, in America and around the world.

Blood testing hasn't evolved since the 1960s and Holmes saw a unique way to shake up the industry, while doing social good.

But she kept it quiet.

Contrary to the strategy of the vast majority of startups, Holmes hasn't been shouting her idea from the rooftops. There's no PR team behind the curtain orchestrating speaking engagements and media coverage. In fact, until Holmes landed on Forbes's "40 Under 40" list and the cover of Fortune magazine this year, she was virtually unknown.

(Holmes was featured in Inc.com's "30 Under 30" list in 2006 but still managed to stay unusually under the radar.)

Holmes had a vision so significant, she didn't want her competitors to catch on until she had the creation of an entirely new market--consumer health technology--well under way.

And her competitors are huge; think Quest, LabCorp, and other well-established players in the $70 billion U.S. blood-testing industry. Yet instead of coming out of the gates with barrels blazing, Holmes quietly worked away at her startup for a decade before beginning to increase her public presence. In that time, she built a business that now has about 500 employees and counts Larry Ellison, CEO of Oracle, and venture capital firm Draper Fisher Jurvetson among its investors.

In the age of selfies, YouTube stars, and "breaking the Internet," isn't it refreshing to discover a young entrepreneur focused more on her business and doing social good than on her public persona? At just 30 years old and as 50% owner of her $9 billion company, Holmes only now seems to be making a concerted effort to come into the limelight.

It's an unusual growth strategy, to work away diligently, largely out of the public eye, but it's one that has served Elizabeth Holmes, the world's youngest self-made female billionaire, incredibly well.

Nefarious motives: the eyes of Elizabeth Holmes

Excerpt from: Body Language Analysis №4195: Elizabeth Holmes, Theranos, and Red Flags — Nonverbal and Emotional Intelligence

Three years ago, Elizabeth Holmes was the newest Golden Child of Silicon Valley. Her company, which she started when she was just 19 after dropping out of Stanford University, had claimed to have revolutionized the practice of medicine by being able to perform testing on just a few drops of blood — from only a finger prick (only 1/100 to 1/1000 of that typically needed with conventional methods). Such a discovery would also dramatically decrease the costs of blood tests. Ms. Holmes also had quite a knack for convincing investors to bankroll her company — which they did to the tune of hundreds of millions of dollars.

But in October of 2015, based on the work of John Carreyrou of The Wall Street Journal, deep concerns as to the credibility of Theranos’ technology were raised — and the facade failed.

What follows is a partial nonverbal analysis of Ms. Holmes from this April 2015 CBS interview.





The aberrant behavior of Elizabeth Holmes’ eyelids is striking. Note how widely they’re opened. The “whites of her eyes” (sclera) are visible 360º around the colored portions (irides or irises) of both eyes.





Moreover, her eyelids are open to this extreme — not just for a second or two — but nearly continuously throughout this interview. This is extremely unusual.

Additionally, in the image immediately above (2:25), Ms. Holmes is also displaying a component of Disgust (note her tightened and forward-vectored mid and lower face — along with her nostril flaring and tightened lips).





You may have also noticed that Elizabeth Holmes blinks much less frequently than normal. This should immediately jump out to you as unnatural. This red flag is a behavior correlated with nefarious motives — so much so, that it’s even been used in animations for decades.





Now, you may say that maybe Elizabeth Holmes’ forehead had been treated with Botox — and you’d be correct. But although her forehead activity is somewhat diminished due to Botox — the dynamic movement captured here (3:48) proves that it is still quite functional. Concave-up furrows are clearly visible on her forehead and her eyebrows are also momentarily elevated.

It’s profoundly important to stress — that when a person’s eyelids are opened wide during moments of verbal emphasis — there is almost always a simultaneous contraction and elevation of their forehead muscles too — as was imaged in this last example.

But the fact that such forehead contribution was rarely seen throughout this interview — that her eyelids were opened wide with a relaxed forehead — and this display was virtually continuous — is a tremendous red flag. It screams of deception. It also signals psychological pathology.

Intriguingly, although the frequency of Ms. Holmes’ voice is quite deep — witnesses have documented that she’s feigning. It’s another affectation.

Jennifer Lawrence will be playing Elizabeth Holmes in a 2019 film version of this fall from grace. It’s to be titled Bad Blood and will be directed by Adam McKay (The Big Short).

SUMMARY: In the absence of a few medical conditions (such as Thyroid eye disease), when the eyelids are opened so widely, with such high frequency and long duration — coupled with a relaxed forehead (e.g., as is demonstrated in the first three images and during almost this entire interview), there’s a very high correlation with:

• Deception
• Antisocial Personality Disorder (commonly referred to as Sociopath Behavior)

Dr. Jack Brown

Body Language/Nonverbal Communication Expert and Physician
May 29

BLOGGER'S OBSERVATIONS. So why do I keep on posting stuff about Elizabeth Holmes? She is one of the more fascinating criminals of the 21st century, maybe of the last 100 years. It is said that she created a niche for herself by ascertaining a yearning, need, or even a guilt or shame in society that ached for redemption. She WAS that redemption: a supernaturally-blue-eyed blonde (hair color as natural as that alabaster stone forehead), a barely-in-her-20s wunderkind, a self-proclaimed genius who was - gasp - female! An actual live woman, doing the Steve Jobs bit, bucking the trend, breaking the mold (but not really, because that's not how you create and fulfill a need. You slip very slimily INTO the mold, thus easing and filling the hollow howling ache in the collective consciousness, redeeming and forgiving the meanness of our faith in womankind and their ability to create and transform.)

But oh, woe. How could we miss this? She wasn't a genius at all (even though she TOLD us she was, damn it! That's just not fair.) She was this sour little bundle of megalomaniacal greed, not smart at all but merely crafty, wily, manipulative, supremely egotistical, and so Antarctically indifferent in her icy core that she could actually feign warmth with that froggy adenoidal voice of hers. She could produce a dizzying facsimile of deep interest in her victims by allowing her sclera to show 360  degrees all around her irises. No kidding, that is how she did it - that, and not blinking, not ever, probably practicing it in front of the mirror or, perhaps, watching old videos of Marshall Applewhite.

Elizabeth was a cult, a shiny blonde one-woman cult, and people fell into line, but they fell into line largely due to a burning, almost unbearable hope that Some Day, Some Woman would come along, someone so glowingly and world-beatingly successful  that they could bow down and worship, lift her up, put her on magazine covers like Forbes, and thus tell themselves and the world, SEE, see how we're acting, we don't discriminate, and we DO think women can do all kinds of swell things and be blonde and blue-eyed at the same time!

But oh. No! Now those blinded worshippers have been knocked on their asses, and sit there stunned and blinking. Wait! How could a GIRL. . .But that's the thing. Didn't we already know women could be ruthless and heartless and utterly-self-servingly-sociopathic? Look at Cruella de Ville. That chick in Fatal Attraction. The Sunset Boulevard lady. (Never mind that they're all fictional.) But Elizabeth had so much confidence, she seemed to know something, and there is nothing more seductive than a woman who seems to know something. So here was this mega-billion-dollar phenom who turned out to be crass, tin-plated, shallow, and utterly uninformed about ANY aspect of medicine or science (and if you saw transcripts of some of her interviews, undazzled by those icy ever-open scleral globes, you'd recognize her laughable ignorance at once). She was all show and no go, and the vaporware she didn't produce wasn't just another talking vibrator or a refrigerator that anticipates your grocery needs. It was all about blood - human blood -  literally, about sucking blood out of people's fingers with some ludicrous thing called a "nanotainer".

The old videos, the early 2015 ones (which is really not so long ago) are now embarrassing to watch, with rich old men (board members, mostly) grabbing their scrotums every time she told a lame joke or made a ridiculous globally-transformative prediction.  Well, she did change the world, sort of. She knocked a whole lot of people on their asses, but for all the wrong reasons.

The one question that lingers in my mind is: since it took nine years for her bubble to burst, and since she couldn't have spent ALL that time grasping the scrotums of rich old men, what did she DO all day? How did she fill her time? Doing eyeball exercises, having her forehead frozen and her hair foiled?  Getting voice lessons for that dull drone she used, or was that just Steve Jobs-style steroids?

Like Martha Stewart, Elizabeth may rise again. But those crazy eyes disturb me. Something is just not right there. They have a feverish quality. a shininess that is unnatural.  Madness can, if turned just the right way, change the world. We've seen it. But the ideal of blonde and blue-eyed has had its share of bad press. 

Oh no it doesn't.

This Is How Sand Looks Magnified Up To 300 Times

Blogger's note. I found this about as plausible as the video from a couple of years ago with the crickets slowed down to sound like an angel choir. I soon found an actual recording of crickets slowed down, and it sounded like. . . crickets slowed down. When you look at the size of the grains relative to each other, you realize it can't be sand at all, but a combination of shells and unusually-shaped, colorful stones.

But hey! I'm playing internet party pooper here. Everyone is exclaiming over these things! To see the world in a grain of sand, and an angel choir in a goddamn bunch of insects The ones on the bottom look like fucking CELERY, for God's sake! And a lobster claw. 

Here is an actual photo of sand magnified 250 times (pretty close). Compare and contrast.

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Misadventures on Facebook: the "other" file

Good morning, gentle readers. Since I must constantly keep you updated and informed on the fascinating details of my dull, disappointed life, here's two cents' worth of stuff on a phenomenon you may or may not have heard of.

It's called "other".

You may have heard of catfishing (or "catphishing", a more accurate term) in which someone on social media assumes the identity of an imaginary person, hooking in somebody who is lonely, vulnerable and easily deluded. This happens for obvious sexual, emotional and/or financial purposes which are always self-serving, and sometimes sadistic. It happened to Meri Brown of Sister Wives, no less, and a watered-down version of it happened to me, sort of, but I wasn't aware of it for years.

I don't get a lot of FB messages except from one person, a close friend I keep in touch with because he has been sick lately and not given to talking about it unless I ask him. Then I read a post from another FB friend which said something like, "I don't know if you're aware of it, but your Facebook messages have a category called 'other' which functions like a junk email/spam file. It automatically files suspicious messages and isn't obvious to access. Most people don't even know about it."  I just had to find out what this was about.

There were a few dozen messages, some of them of the "unclaimed money" variety where you only have to send the person $5000.00 to get your billion-dollar "lost" inheritance.

Some were nonsensical, and a few were generic "hi, let's be friends" messages that hoped to snag me very easily, the hook being barely baited.

I've picked out a few favorites. Some of these went back several years because I simply didn't know they were there: it's not obvious at all, and as with so many Facebook features, you have to be born knowing about it, unless you're me. Then you never find out until it's too late.

2 mutual friends: Genni Gunn and Linda Clay

I do everything at I AM A GENERAL CONTRACTOR

June 29, 2012 11:27 pm



HELLO PRETTY LADT I WAS JUST PASSING WHEN I SEE YOUR WONDERFUL BEAUTIFUL FACE I WAS CATIVATED IF YOU DONT MINE CAN WE BE FRIENDS

This has got to be one of my favorite Facebook messages ever. Never before have I been called a "PRETTY LADT", and I never will be again. These things are sent out in bulk in the hopes that one in ten thousand might "bite", take the bait, be completely convinced this guy (? Could be anyone) is interested in her personally, is truly "CATIVATED" (speaking of "catfish" - maybe this was an encoded warning of sorts). And I have to admit, I "DON'T MINE", never have mined and probably never will mine because I simply don't have the equipment. 

This reminds me of something from the old TV series WKRP, in which someone filled out a dating service form with hobbies that included "logging", a much more rugged activity than low-impact running. There are usually details to pad out the profile and give an impression of prosperity, reliability, whatever. A "GENERAL CONTRACTOR" who does "everything" (including a lot of vulnerable women) must seem like a good thing: this is a self-employed, financially solvent guy who writes all in caps and can't spell.

hi,
my name is Grace, i saw your profile and i became interested to know more about you, please can you give me the chance to know more about you? i will be very happy to be your good friend . this is my private E_mail ( babegrace222 (@) yahoo.co.uk )

PLEASE DON'T REPLY ME HERE. CONTACT ME THROUGH MY PRIVATE E_MAIL, SO THAT I WILL SEND YOU MORE PRIVATE PICTURES ( babegrace222@yahoo.co.uk )

You and Justine Favour aren't connected on Facebook
Lives in Kharkov, Ukraine


Now this one is really strange.  Why would a person named Grace (not a friend, of course) take special notice of my profile, saying she "became interested to know more about you" (then repeating the phrase)? The "babegrace222" alone is very strange and emanates the possibility of porn-y pictures. But then there is that "PLEASE DON'T REPLY ME HERE" which is in urgent caps, and the reference to "MORE PRIVATE PICTURES" - ay ay ay! What sort of private pictures, and how much do they cost? (But remember she wants to be my "good" friend, so it must be OK). But the strangest thing of all is that this message isn't from "babegrace222" at all, but someone named Justine Favour who is NOT on my Facebook page and lives in Kharkov, Ukraine. If she exists at all, I very much doubt her name is Justine Favour.

Chat Conversation Start

April 16, 2013 9:30 am

Hi, How are you doing? hope you are doing great..Iam John, from Austin,Texas.Am 9year widower,i live with my pet dogs wamma and sandy. I need a long term relationship a woman who will love me for whom Iam..caring,loving,nice.passionate,romantic honesty,with a great sense of humor.sure,Am a gentle man,caring,lovely,respectful,passionate,romantic,good manners with a great sense of humor.distance doesn't matters in any relationship,what matters is the heart and love shared.i love traveling,going to the beach,playing pool games,camping,fishing,drawings,watching movies and sunset. you caught my attention.i will love to know more about you..keep safe and God bless. John,

This is the closest thing to classic catfishing I've ever received. Probably sent by some cash-strapped middle-aged woman desperate to squeeze someone (anyone!)so she can pay her overdue bills and her drug dealer. Every detail in this thing has been stage-managed: the up-front phony well-wishes, the mention of living in Austin, Texas (somehow a solid, wholesome-sounding place),and the nine years being a widower - such a long, long time to be lonely and bereaved (though he has two dogs, golden retrievers who bound around their master, eager for a walk to go score some wallets in the park).

He immediately states what he "needs", "a woman who will love me for whom Iam"(sic). He then goes on to list his reams of good qualities, many of them repetitive. "Loving" and "lovely" may have been conflated, unless he truly is lovely (a slip?). The really revealing statement is "distance doesn't matters in any relationship". This is always a red flag in social media, because it places the other person at a safe (unsafe) remove. If you never look into the other person's eyes (and the photos they send might be of George Clooney's better-looking brother), you never catch their vibes, see into them and figure out if they are sincere.

It goes on and on. "You caught my attention" has a generic feel, and notice he never uses my name. "Caught" has squirmy connotations when applied to catfishing. And it's doubtful he even looked at my profile picture because they're often abstracts, landscapes and pictures of Harold Lloyd. The activities he enjoys, take note, mostly don't cost much, so he's cheap. "Sunset", the last activity mentioned, doesn't cost anything at all. "Keep safe and God bless" is the ultimate irony, because if you in fact answered this thing, I doubt very much that you would be on safe ground. 

A couple of these things had apparently disappeared on me, leaving me wondering just how bad they might be, or who was policing it in the first place:

This message has been temporarily removed because the sender's account requires 

verification.

  You and Loquilla Loca aren't connected on Facebook

Loquilla Loca. Hmmmmm.

Dear Facebook friends, I hope everyone had a nice weekend! This is just a friendly reminder that tomorrow night -- April 24 --  Honoria Birdsong will launch her second collection of short stories, Bad Dope, at the Dakota Tavern (249 Ossington Avenue), and we want you to celebrate with us! Author Kathryn Krackenburger will interview Birdsong live on stage, and copies of Bad Dope will be available for purchase (and autographing!). Plus, it's just nice to have any excuse to go to the Dakota, isn't it? Be there any time after 7 p.m. It's totally free, too! This book launch just gets better and better! --  Neville Tuesday, Publicist, Handcrank Books

Sorry, folks, I had to include this one (with certain details changed to protect ME) which came in and was promptly filed under "other", even if it isn't strictly catfishing.

But it is, most definitely, junk mail. Spam, spam, spam, spam, spam.

Let me tell you just why this offends me so much. I was briefly in an online a "writer's group" (a contradiction in terms, I've always felt) that was based exclusively in Toronto, with the writers doing more nasty, whispering playground-talk and backstabbing than anyone ever did on FB. Most of it involved slagging writers from anywhere but Toronto, a kind of blood sport. I mentioned doing some contract work for a textbook press and was sniggered and sneered into the ground: "oh well, I guess if you want a paycheck that badly", "cheap outfit, shitty pay", and worse. 

This gooey invitation-thing reeks of exclusivity and pathetic CanLit insularity: we seem to think we're big shit, and sadly, we are not.("Plus, it's just nice to have any excuse to go to the Dakota, isn't it?" Oh, my goodness, he's from Toronto so he must be right!) Myself, I thought the Dakota was where John Lennon got shot, but no, it's in that only-place-in-Canada-to-be-a-writer-of-any-importance, Toronto. I was grateful to see the event was "totally free" - I've never heard of anyone with the audacity to charge people for a book signing, but in Toronto, one never knows. (And I never knew there were degrees of "free": partially free, 75% free, totally free?). While I am the first to admit that "this book launch just gets better and better" (didn't anyone tell this guy he's trying too hard? But this is what Toronto authors sound like now), I am also quite eager to pass, since they probably do a retinal scan at the door to make sure you're not from Vancouver.

It ended up in "other", folks. It's a piece of junk, a mass mailing that never should have come to me at all. I'm not about to hop a plane and spend a couple thousand dollars to go see Honoria Birdsong push her dope book. Sorry. Please go fishing for someone else.

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"Why I dare not come out of the closet"

I found myself looking up this entry in the original Morningside Papers anthology today, for no reason I can ascertain except that I remembered it. I remembered a story of a gay man, married, so closeted he can barely breathe, and convinced that the closet will be his fate, if not his doom, for the rest of his life.

But what startles me about this piece is the language. He reveals his orientation with  horror and revulsion, like someone who goes around murdering little children. After laying out the facts of his stable, wonderful, conservative life, he then rips open the cover to reveal a festering secret, a secret that seems to come right out of one of those 1940s "warning" films:

He likes men.

I like men. Almost all my close friends have been men, all my life. I've always felt a certain kinship with gay men because of that fact. I'm monogamous, meaning I haven't had the opportunity to spread myself out too much, but I like to look. I'm 61, and I like to look and dream and have some pretty hot fantasies. I like the smell of a man, the firmness of body, the hair, the voice, the hands.

I guess if I was a man, I'd be gay. Would all this be horrible?

If I was free to do so, would it be horrible for me to want to claim all this bounty sexually?

Obviously, I don't get it. I never have. But what I HAVE had are a few "confessions" over the years, mostly by older men, about their one sexual encounter with a man, sometimes coerced, sometimes not, and how they agonized about it, all the while living a hetero life. One man was sixteen when he lied his way into the army during World War II, and was blackmailed into sex with an older man with fear of disclosure that he was underage. When he told me this as an old man, barely able to look me in the eye, I didn't know what to say to him except, "I am honoured that you told me this. Thank you." And I meant it: I was, literally, the only person he ever told.

So the skinny five per cent this guy mentions seems puzzlingly small. Sexuality spreads out a lot more than that, waxes and wanes. We're not puzzle pieces. We flow. Our desires flow, but sometimes they flow strongly in one direction. This poor guy is so rigid that he believes he'll be executed if he's ever "found out". He skulks around in back alleys on business trips. He has a "Jekyll and Hyde" personality. Whoo boy.

Was this sad, sad piece written in the '40s, the '50s perhaps? No, it was written and published in 1984. Mind, that was 31 years ago (? How can it be true?), and so much has happened since then that this piece seems archaic, even a little bit insulting.

It's insulting to gay men who are proud of who they are. Yes, they existed in 1984 because I knew a few of them. It's insulting in the horror-movie language it uses, the description of gayness as plague and blight. The utter unbending certainty of "ruin" if this ever "got out" is, come to think of it, a little nasty, because it supposes a culture utterly devoid of flexibility or understanding.

This guy thinks he HAS to live a lie, and that he must be the Christlike sacrifice to keep the whole ruse going. But he isn't the sacrifice. His wife is: she doesn't even know who she is married to. His kids are: every day their father sits at the breakfast table across from them with a big sign on his forehead that says, "I am not who you think I am." Chronic deception causes tension in a household, often on a subconscious level that gnaws away and erodes emotional health. Nothing is as it seems, because it cannot be, "must not" be what it is. The truth is just too horrific.  This is a guaranteed method of throwing your family permanently off-balance. It's like living with Don Draper, for God's sake, with his false identity and ruthless sexual conquests, some of them acted out with his neighbor across the hall.

I wonder whatever happened to this guy. He seemed at the breaking point. I wonder if he continued to feel, as he seemed to feel then, that keeping up the ruse of "normalcy" at work and church and home was the only right thing to do. It's twisted, and it's an example of why things had to change, and why they need to keep changing.

In spite of what media blast at us every day, not everyone is "cool" with being gay. If you are from a fundamentalist background of any stripe, Christian, Jewish, Muslim, it is not cool. It is Sin. Sin is something you're supposed to atone for. Then, "go and sin no more". Bible camps seek to straighten people out with the hammer of guilt, even though the founder of one of the largest of these groups went on record to say that the whole thing had been a tragic mistake (before moving in with his male lover).

On the surface of things, this piece, very much of its time, shows us how far we have come. But it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Under the horror-movie language is a strange kind of boasting, very much in the Don Draper mode: look what I am getting away with. And fuck you, you conventional people, because I have my own little private world here and I'm going to make sure my wife and kids and colleagues never find out. I have known men who have made the decision to be married to women, and gay "on the side", so to speak. In some cases, their wives even know. Perhaps they've resolved the tension, or think of themselves as bisexual (and hey, whatever happened to bisexual? Nobody's bisexual any more. It has become extremely unpopular for some reason). It is society that creates most of the problems here, refusing human beings the fluidity and even androgyny that is deep in their nature.

Keep sloggin' forward, folks. Keep that banner hoisted high. Think of Dublin! And think of this poor sod, who is perhaps not even alive any more, the homosexual who dares not come out of the closet.

"You had me at hello"

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