Agatha Christie is widely regarded as the most successful fiction author of all time, with over two billion copies of her detective novels sold worldwide but I would suggest Karl Marx was the most successful fiction author of all time.

Overall, Marx’ complete collected works fill fifty volumes (including articles, letters, and drafts), he authored roughly fifteen primary independent works or major book projects, many of which were left unfinished or published after he became a good communist.

And, we know the communist country printing presses produced hundreds of millions of copies of these turgid and long-winded novels.

So I would contend Marx is the leading fiction writer of all time.

Stay tuned.

I’m not sure there has been a more incompetent regional military power as the Saudis since Italy in WWII. They have the 8th largest military budget in the world. The Saudis pour billions into their military for the very best state-of-the-art equipment which makes the result even more comical.

Their whole army is designed for vibes and aura farming.

They’re the opposite of the Italians. Italy had terrible production, equipment and leadership, but actually fought bravely, whereas the Saudis are given all the equipment and advisors they could dream of and still fail.

Mind you, the current conflict is primarily between the Yemeni military and Houthi militants. Currently the Saudis only provide logistical support and airstrikes.

The whole first book of Dune revolves around underestimating the Fremen.

Money can’t buy competence.

“Yemen’s Houthis might have directly struck Saudi Arabia’s East-West crude oil pipeline in the desert southeast of Medina. Sentinel-3 satellite imagery from today shows a massive black smoke plume nearly 100 km long over the pipeline route, stretching across the desert…”

https://x.com/HormuzLetter/status/2098152930348278000

Kay opened the door after a series of heavy knocks. It was getting late, her husband was away for work and she just assumed it was the next door neighbours.

Two police men stood outside her door, behind them flashing lights and several other police officers carrying large black bags. The senior of the pair spoke in a stern tone, “I am sergeant Dibbles, we are here because child exploitation material has been detected on your devices and through your communications.”

Kay was moved aside as the army of police officers entered her home. She was led to the kitchen where she was recorded and made to sit, Dibbles continued, “we understand that your husband is away at this time. He will be contacted by the authorities where he is at. These are severe charges and we want you to answer our questions with honesty.”

“I don’t understand, what do you mean by child abuse? What child? Who has made these allegations?” Kay asked. She watched as gloved police officers placed her electric devices into their bags, personal items such as note books and she even saw one walk out of her bedroom with her personal ‘massage’ device now inside of a plastic bag.

“We have detected abuse material on your devices and in communication between yourself, your husband and a web of other individuals.”

“What abuse material do you mean?”

“We would like to bring you back to the police station, to an interview room. There you can speak with a detective and they will have further information. Do you have any pets here? We will make sure they are taken to a shelter and cared for while we have you in custody.”

“A cat, his name is Edward. I don’t understand what is happening.”

Kay was confused, for a moment she questioned her husband, wondering if it had been something he was doing behind her back. She felt sick. Could he be, was he?

It was a twenty minute drive in the back of the police car. The cold treatment from the officers felt inhuman. She understood why, they thought she was an abuser of children, the thought made her sick inside. She followed their directions and as she waited, she watched her devices go from hands to hands until they were plugged into a computer out of her sight. A detective entered, she was dressed formally, “I’m detective Beatty, have you had explained to you what is occurring?”

“Not really. I was told that I had sent child abuse material, or received it.”

“We have found images in your communications between you and your husband and others, of children in exploitative positions.”

The detective slid print outs of blurred images, Kay could not see much of the child. Though, she recognised the top photos.

“Did you take these images?”

“Yes.”

“You then distributed them to your husband?”

“Yes, but these are of a child with a severe health condition. I am a midwife and post-par tum expert, my husband is a leading paediatric researcher. That is why he is away, he is at a conference about children’s health. I sent this to him to gain his expert opinion. The child is in a painful state and I needed to know what treatment plan would be best.”

The detective looked at the other images, the unblurred ones that she had in her folder. Away from Kay’s eyes. Beatty looked up, “these are images of a child’s genitalia. I don’t understand why you or your husband need to look at close up photos of the genitals of a small child.”

“Because this child has symptoms that are not conventional and I was uncertain as to whether it was Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia or something else because test results and what we have observed was unusual. The child has a limited amount of time to be diagnosed. That’s why my husband rang back and advised what further tests should be done. If you contact my hospital they will confirm that we have this child undergoing observation and treatment, per the advice of my husband.”

“And these images?” The detective placed other photos taken of new born babies, much of their details blurred as pixels.

“I can’t tell exactly what these children’s cases are but you can see my case notes for each of them. I had permission from the parents for each child, and those images were only sent to other health professionals in relation to what we are doing to help each and every one of these children.”

The door opened, a male detective walked in, his smile leering in Kay’s direction, “don’t mind me.”

The man in his forties sat alongside detective Beatty, he peered over at the images of the children hidden from Kay’s eyes.

Beatty continued, “you understand that taking and distributing abuse material is a serious offence.”

“I did not abuse the children, they are not being abused. We are treating them for their health conditions, for example if my memory serves this child has a fused labia and that one, if it is who I am thinking it is, had severe hypospadias. We take these images for sometimes training purposes, with the consent of the parents, with the child’s identity and face not included in the image. Or, for further advice. Or, to observe and record the treatment.”

“That all may be true, you could also use that material for obscene purposes,” Beatty added.

“What do you mean? As in, for sexual gratification?” Kay was aghast.

The male detective leaned in, “you had other salacious images on your devices.”

“What do you mean?” Kay sat back.

“Three weeks ago, your husband and you had a romp in a hotel room, that lingerie you were wearing left little for the imagination. Your husband is a lucky man. We found sexual objects in your home, and on your devices other pornographic images and video that you and your husband had recorded of one another.”

Kay felt prickles of embarrassment, “they are private things shared between my husband and I. That’s none of your business.”

“It is when it involves children. It suggests that you and your husband may be sexually reckless and are in possession of obscene material.”

“Images and videos of my sex life with my husband is considered obscene material?”

“It can be.”

The male detective added, “we also found explicit communications between your husband and yourself”, he slid in her direction sheets of paper text message exchanges between her husband and herself. Dirty talk between a married couple.

“This is private between my husband and I.”

“Your husband said here, and I quote, “I want to be your naughty school boy, and for you to make me do homework over and over again.”

Kay felt sick, “it’s called role play.”

“You are condoning the exploitation of a minor by a professional whose care they are in?”

“It is make believe.”

“Your husband said, that he is, “in biology class and wants to be shown an anatomy lesson,” the detective pointed to the page.

“It’s make believe. Is that a crime? We are pretending. It’s between us and has nothing to do with children or minors.”

“It can be a crime. We have also accessed the audio from your bedroom’s smart television and the recordings from your car and phones while you are both participating in acts of carnal obscenities.”

“You listened to my husband and I have sex?”

“We have the recordings. We are still going over it all for further evidence.”

“Can I have a lawyer?”

The male detective smiled, “you are not allowed to have one at this time, we will allow you to contact one after these initial proceedings.”

“I am going to go to jail for this?”

“You might.”

“What is your name?” Kay asked the male detective.

“I am detective Kunter.”

“And when these charges are dropped against my husband and I, will you delete the audio and images you took from our devices?”

“They will be retained for a period of time as evidence and will remain accessible indefinitely.”

“So we have no privacy?”

“It’s about security and safety, if you have nothing to hide, you don’t need to worry about your privacy. This is about the abuse of children, why are you concerned about your privacy. You think paedophiles deserve privacy?” Kunterfrowned.

“But, I’m not a paedophile.”

“That’s yet to be determined and is precisely why we have access to your personal data, to make this determination for ourselves. You have nothing to worry about, if you have nothing to hide.”

Hours passed before Kay was allowed to return home. Her husband experienced similar treatment. He was not allowed to complete his conference or speak on the matters until the case was closed. Kay was not allowed to return to work. Both were suspended. Twelve others were implicated in the offences related to the images of the children that had been taken and distributed. All of them in related medical fields.

Kay retired later that year. Though, no charges had been finalised. The damage to her reputation was enough to ruin her career. A year later, her husband was beaten by a stranger in the street, all he remembered hearing as he was kicked repeatedly was, “pedo.” The police expressed little interest in pursuing the assailant due to a lack of available evidence. The footage of the beating went viral on social media usually captioned with the headline “Pedo gets bashed’. Kay and her husband are now on the sex offenders list because their car recorded them having sex in a public space late one evening.