Seriously secret signals from Syria

So...here we are. It is a Friday morning. You want content, I want content. You want to be entertained. I want to oblige.

I have watched the cursor for some time this morning.  In spite of my highest hopes it is not blinking hints and insight in Morse Code. Unless I am supposed to type a repeating 'SSSSSSSSSS for the next upteen hours, there is no help forthcoming from the blink blink of the cursed cursor.  Perhaps it is a repeating 'OOOOOOOO'? As there is no variation in the on-off pulse of the evil cursor, I know my computer is not sending me a secret SOS (...---...).

I learned the Morse code for SOS from an old Superman episode as a kid.  Jimmy sent up smoke to get Superman's attention.  See, TV can teach us valuable stuff. I learned semaphore back in my Boy Scout days. I do not remember any of it after four decades of non-use.. Even if I could still message via signal flags, who could read it?

Imagine I am deep in the wilderness and came across a secret liberal indoctrination camp, designed by Bill Ayres to provide attitude adjustment for us bitter clinger-types. My cell phone has no signal, radio and shortwave bands are blocked. I rip my red T-shirt and sew it to my tighty-whiteys.  I wave my discovery, one letter at a time, to the nearest mountain top. A trusty gun club is there, armed and ready to defend our Rights.  Alas, no one can decipher my weird flag waving. The Republic is doomed! If only Jimmy Olsen had used semaphore instead of Morse code...