Dodi and Diana

Speaking of tracking devices, here's a thought. At the dealerships, to sell this invasion of privacy, they tell you that it is for "in case your car gets stolen." Once you drive off the lot, they don't care about your car. That's why you have insurance. You'll wreck it before it's stolen. A tracker is for tracking you.

If they want, they can listen to your cockpit. And you thought that "roadside assistance button" was just for the concierge or in case your wife has a flat? Dude, it's a built-in cell phone that works through your stereo speakers. It's like having an intercom between you and the network that pilots your car's computer. It is like talking on a speaker phone with stereo-quality sound. According to an employee from BMW's Assist Safety Plan, "We can hear a whisper on the back seat."

I phoned my car's "Roadside Assistance Button" people and one of them told me that the microphone was "near, in or behind" the rear-view mirror. Another one from the same company said that it was in the visor panel above the mirror. I called several dealerships across the country asking the same question. Each one told me a different story about the same car. One guy said the microphone was located within the bulky plastic housing of the rear-view mirror. A woman at another dealership told me that it was at the top of my steering wheel. Another dealer told me that it was behind plastic slits on either side of the mirror. They couldn't all be right.

So I went out to the car and investigated. To the left of the lighting panel, just above the mirror, I found a 2-inch by 1/2-inch rectangle of plastic slits. Not ideal for gathering ambient sound. An air vent for interior lighting seems more plausible.

There is a small, inconspicuous microphone on top of the steering column, just behind the wheel. It's right in your face, but you wouldn't see it unless you were looking for it. This is the microphone that works with Bluetooth. And perhaps also with their intercom button. But who can know for sure? Since they have discreetly placed a cell phone unit inside the dashboard and a GPS tracking unit with an antenna somewhere in the car. Nowhere in any of the manuals is this GPS tracking unit listed or discussed. You cannot locate it in your car. Just like the hidden cell phone. Does that define clandestine?

There are ten different manuals in the manual case. Why not just put it all in one book and list things in an alphabetical index? Isn't that the path of sanity? A house divided cannot stand. Perhaps that is why the manual is divided into ten parts. Imagine wrestling with all those on a road-trip.

Do we have an invisible passenger, listening quietly as we drive our cars? The technology to turn your car into high-ball audio surveillance is available to those with license (DHS, FBI, DIA, NSA, CIA, et alii). According to McGraw-Hill's Homeland Security Handbook, they have free rein to look up our skirt any time. Is roadside assistance like OnStar and BMW Assist just a pretext to spy on people?

Porsche makes the swankest roadster in the world. Their customers, from what I just learned, do not relish a Big Brother intercom in their cars. So Porsche doesn't give them one. Instead they give their customers a toll-free number to call that offers the same list of comforts, conveniences and help during an emergency. Fair enough. Anybody willing to pay that kind of money deserves their privacy -- is one way to look at it. Another is how most of the people who deem it is time to spy on us are probably driving a Porsche.

There's no peace of mind knowing that you can be bugged any time at the click of a mouse. I learned from my investigation that BMW Assist Safety folks can open a call and keep it open for as long as they want. The owner of the car is powerless to end the call. There is no way you can "hang up" a cell phone that lives inside your dashboard. The call is both initiated and terminated by some one sitting at a computer in a secret place. You have zero control over how it works. All you can do is "request" something and hope that a secret listener responds.

According to yet another car dealer, there is a fin inside my trunk that communicates with satellites. Which brings me to how a global positioning system is double-edged. It slices both ways, helping you navigate and keeping your government apprised of your travels at the same time. The "anti-theft" tracking device keeps you on the radar whether you have a navigational GPS or not.

Testing the system, I learned that the "specialists" who talk out of your stereo speakers seem to get nervous when you quiz them about how the technology works. I called their mother-ship with questions earlier. Once my focus became apparent, they hung up the phone. They have been schooled on what to tell people -- and what not to tell people.

If you lock your keys in the car, you can phone them and they will unlock it for you via this conduit. They can tell your car to unlock its doors, decelerate and run engine diagnostics from a computer mouse. What else can they tell it to do?

This casts Dodi and Diana's last ride in a new light. Over the last couple of weeks I have noticed the wheel jerking in my grip. It felt like somebody else was trying to steer my car with me at the wheel. Like they were testing a system to see if it worked. That is what it felt like. And is the express thought that occurred to me when it happened. I have not experienced this phenomena in any craft (sea, air or land). So it gave me pause.

I miss seeing a princess on the cover of grocery store magazines that now inundate us with lesser blondes. Making things look like an accident or suicide is less complicated than car bombs, I suppose. But car bombs support the "hate Muslims" campaign better. One gets to blame it on the Al Qaeda -- whoever they are. Has anybody ever seen those guys?

Keep in mind that technology considered novel to us has been in some one's belfry for decades. Things that we now use, may have been in use long before we were granted access. That seems to be the course of things. Also, much available on the Internet that you thought was put there for your convenience, I wager was put there for the convenience of those who put tracking devices in our cars -- and would like to put them in our bodies. They sure tracked Princess Diana and tapped into her phone calls. The same stuff they did to John Kennedy before they picked him off like a prize buck.

Privacy is gone. The white pages list every body's name, age, house-mates, and address complete with a road-map to your door. They will link you to other search engines that list every place you've ever lived. You can write some body's address in the Google search window and they will take you to their front door in a 360-degree surveyor's vista. You can even zoom in and take a closer look.

The only people exempt from this intrusion are Secret Service and other government agents. Why do you suppose that is? And why does Google send surveyors to your front door to take pictures of your house? Surveyors are in big demand right now, making the big money to map every dirt road in the woods. Why are dirt roads important now when they have never been important before?

Seems to me that somebody is interested in other people's property. Bless her heart, Princess Diana was treated like property. The last thing the Wizard wanted was to see her marry a Muslim chap -- unifying Islam and Christendom in great public celebration. Couldn't let that happen. It would make Muslims seem less like terrorists and more like prince charmings.

I realise that a car, plane or rocket can be remotely operated. Anything mechanical lends itself to remote control. There are worse ways to go than slamming into a stanchion at 100 mph. Ask the folks in Port-au-Prince. Unlike the glib and friendly lies on last night's Predicament of the Union Address, death is a guarantee we can all count on. Who wants to die of influenza and earthquakes? There are people in Haiti right now who envy Diana.

The web site below is the goods. Do not be dissuaded by their computer screen text span. That's only a ploy to tire your eyes and frustrate your mind. They hope you'll stop reading and go away. We live in an era of the psy-op. Ignore the psy-op and copy/paste what you want. The text is not for Joe Citizen. The site is designed for their corporate customers. Just print what you want to read. Then kick back and digest the facts along with your tea and biscuits. If you are curious about how your hidden GPS-tracker works, here's the tech. http://gpstrackit.com/

B-52's

Yes I'm flattered. And would deservedly blush to learn that I am wrong.

Flattered that perhaps the planes who have been circling my hair-do for six months are either reading my blogs or have been sent by those who are reading them.

Many people are reading them. I have learned this via other means, despite the data on the view counter that has shown the same number for eons. Like I'm expected to believe that -- along with the sudden getting bumped off-line during editing mode, with no copy/paste functions, etc. Apparently some software geek at this blog-net has been told to cripple my blogging tools best he can. This further flatters me. Good thing I seldom copy or paste anything. Why would I when hip-shots are more fun?

Reliable sources tell me that the "N" numbers on the aircraft are registered to the Department of Justice, Department of Homeland Security and the Sheriff's office. They fly at three-hour intervals. In circles. Like buzzards.

I have seen photos of cameras on the ventral side of helicopters. It appears they fly around, shooting video of unintentional movie stars. Kind of like the news-hounds, but with more sophisticated equipment.

And noticed, over the months, what appears like helicopter and Cessna-escorts as I drive down the freeways. Too much of a coincidence does it appear to me to have it happen frequently. But then my car does have a GPS-tracker that was installed by the manufacturer in a hidden place that is not listed in the owner's manual. Hmmm... We all know how everybody suddenly wants to steal everybody's car, but would this device merit a Top Secret (covert/clandestine) status even from its owner?

It sure would explain last night's police car on my six. And several others. I see them parked near my residence like they are waiting for me to go somewhere so they can follow me. And then they do. One day I saw a U.S. Mail jeep following me. No kidding, even after U-turns, he kept following me. I don't think he was a mail man.

It's all very entertaining. The surveillance game. Tap phones, monitor email, break into mail boxes, intercept incoming mail, root through the garbage, have the local police follow them around, watch them from the air, around the clock, yadda yadda.

The reason they watch you from outside is because they are worried that you will visit a neighbor/friend/colleague/contact/acquaintance, etc. or that one of them will visit you. This way you can exchange information that is outside the scope of their surveillance tools. Due to this factor, I wondered if those persistent missionaries who kept trying to get into my house were really just missionaries. The CIA loves to recruit Mormons because they are reliable, drug-free and obedient. Did I mention conveniently luke-warm in their "religious" pursuits? Christian "centrists" who don't even hear a Sunday sermon. Handy jacks for future federal service. Their "love of the Lord" never gets in the way of the company line. These tidy boys were persistent beyond the norm in my case. Wanted to get into my house something fierce. Kept calling my phone persistently.

There was also a federal agent who rang my door bell a couple of times. He left a message that he had some questions for me. I suggested that we discuss them over my tapped phone. That way we could be sure the call was being recorded for his future records.

Two days in a row I encountered the same aerial-ballet chopper on my way to the gyms. These were different gyms in different parts of town. Did he follow me? The city is by the sea. Terrain is flat. You can see aircraft for miles. I'll have to ask my buzzard friends.

There are sadistic fiction writers, I infer, who work for the ADL and their bed-buddy, the CIA. They write as though their job is to litter cyberspace with hysterical, bogus, wordy, voluminous, wearisome stories about how they are being followed and harassed by federal agencies. It reads like a man wrote it. Some twisted hack. This is to discredit those who say that this is happening to them.

We have photographs of all those planes and helicopters that appear to be following me up and down the freeway. Telephoto lenses work equally-well on drones and hang-gliders, by the way. Those "N" numbers are crystal clear. Now you know why many of the spray-planes don't have them. You could trace the numbers to who owns the planes. http://registry.faa.gov/aircraftinquiry

One more buzz around the bee-hive and I shall feel like a back-up singer for the B-52's. And those N-numbers will be the next thing in the news.

Gladiatore

On a steady diet of world news, one sees a trend. History repeats itself. The BBC video below supports the premise.

For decades apparently, the black-ops inner sanctum of our government has been playing parlour games with people's lives. Recruiting eager wanna-be's for their nefarious dealings. Are they grooming young men to be terrorists?

Based on the real news, I believe that false-flag terrorism keeps a fresh supply of corpses coming home to their mothers. And the "puppet-puerile" in the White House keeps signing whatever they put in front of him. He's too caught up in how fancy it feels to be president. Thinking for himself and navigating by a moral compass seems to be over his head presently. We all know what manning the helm got John Kennedy.

Whenever CIA/MI6/RAW/et alii and their Israeli head-lice call something "an operation," it often has to do with killing. So take for example, P. C. Roberts' column in this week's paper. He drew a similitude between the Christmas crotch-bomber and Operation Gladio. Makes perfect sense to me.

Any so-called "suicide bomber" or other act of terrorism over the last decade has not been convincing. There is a distinct pattern to it. The way it gets reported in the news. What Wiki-coverYour*ss-pedia writes about it (CIA's damage-control/propaganda writers?). The targets. The 2+2=4 effect. The motive. The beneficiaries. All you have to do is think about it as if one of the children they gunned down in Belgium was yours. Then your mind will start crunching the algorithms.

Men who make a life out of thug-work for the government have to think that what they are doing is at least prestigious. Certainly they cannot find it right or good. One can observe ego-feeding killers go from larval stages to full-blown Uzi's with the wind of regime giving lift to predator wings.

First they create the monster by telling him that he is the fastest, meanest, most ruthless, death-proof killing machine survivalist extraordinaire, superlative superlative superlative... and that's why women will want him yadda yadda yickida kaschtuppa. Then they fan his flames until he either outlives his efficacy or eats a bullet (whichever comes first). The steering-committee shrinks who write the manuals are pointedly focused. They seem to love their work with a freak-fetish. And know which people to recruit. Vain, unscrupulous, just enough adipose for cold water drops.

Their spines are starched and heads get swollen beyond the capacity to think that they may just be expendable dupes. Pawns. Business-ends for the bad guys. Like many "valiant warriors and warfighters." Pit bulls. Game cocks. Except these are told that they are special. They give them snazzy things to wear and weapons to brandish. Make them feel sanctified. Ego-magnification, like fear, is also a psy-op.

The psychology they must use on these guys conditions them to fight and kill much like a bull terrier. They get pitted against an assigned enemy or told to kill someone who is marked for death. Then they just go and do it. Like the guy in a slaughterhouse who nonchalantly kills young race horses all day. His job is to kill them, not ask questions about why somebody wants to kill a perfectly-good horse. That defines a hack. Jack.

They probably get told how classified everything is and are made to sign their lives away over tomes of fine print. This would lend credence to why information is compartmented and strictly guarded. These guys are blinder'ed. It must be tunnel vision. They are probably kept in partial darkness about what they are doing at all times. Because if they got the big picture they might see how wrong it is and bite the hand that feeds them. Or something. Like the trained tiger who one day decides he no longer wants to jump through burning hoops. Takes a swipe at the whip-guy. And bites his face off.

Esprit de corps carries the rest. There is always a more seasoned hatchet in the team whom they seek to emulate. Like a star quarterback inspires adolescent hero-worship. He makes them feel elite. Peer pressure and the monkey-see-monkey-do principle are useful factors. This works particularly well with young men who have never been exposed to the rigors of post-secondary education. Independent thought is less likely to afflict them.

It follows that once they get a taste of blood, they are in the game for life. Their shrink handlers and instructors have mental conditioning tactics that are undergone with great pride. This screening process determines whether or not their characters can bear the spiritual filth of their jobs.

Once they get into this carnage, they must needs become desensitized and psychologically tainted by it. It appears they seek the camaraderie of others of their kind in work and play. That's their only comfort zone. This explains why many of their ilk resign themselves to a life of such work. Each man is ensanguined from the slaughterhouse. Isn't it funny how they call it an abattoir? It's like triage. They use French when they don't want you to know something. It will take more than French to wash blood from their hands. What kind of man makes such work his life? Go ask the Blackwater/Xe guys.

Everybody dies -- eventually. But gunning-down little kids and their mothers in supermarkets is beyond the pale. Any man who does that for a living can expect no seat in Valhalla.

Whoever did these atrocities are in the cold-blooded murder business. Those killings in Belgium were frame jobs to stir up fear and loathing against neo-nazi and other politically-incorrect groups. False flag operations are just herd-sway maneuvers. In a cattle drive, cowboys use fear to turn the herd right or left.

This went on for years in Europe spanning decades. In 1984, according to the French language BBC documentary, they strangled and shot a young Brussels couple after being told by their handlers that the pair were KGB agents. That's bogus. As if our government hasn't been in bed with the Bolsheviks since day-one. Bitch please. Many of them are Bolsheviks.

Given all this heinous dirt, one finds the missing puzzle pieces to many convenient suicides that happened over the years. You know the ones. Those perfect, dreamy, happy, successful, recently-promoted, well-adjusted guys who decide to roll out of bed one morning and shoot themselves.

Here's what you do. Ask yourself, "if I was the dead guy, what would my motive have been for killing myself?" If it takes you longer than five minutes to come up with a reason -- there probably wasn't one.

There is motive for terrorizing Pakistan and Afghanistan. The war-whores' job right now is to be convincing terrorists so your sons, brothers and husbands will have something to fight about. This mercenary scum appears to be working for the CIA and their NATO partners-in-crime. They shame this country. They shame our military. They are an abomination. A fast-growing malignancy, burning tax-calories like the Fire-FORRESTAL.

I believe that some of them infiltrate churches and mosques, claiming to be converts. And that some slither into secret lodges, groups, societies and clubs. I believe they were behind many seemingly random acts of domestic terrorism also. As Operation Gladio suggests, this has been going on for decades.

Some of these happened in your own back yard. You know -- close to home. (Enter Homeland Security)

Have you so soon forgotten the rash of killings that did not seem to have any motive or rationale? Similar were they to what happened in Belgium's 1985 grocery stores and Italy's Bologna Station. Similar to last year's Taj-Mumbai massacre and the Illinois preacher shooting . Pastor Fred Winters was killed at his pulpit with Bible-in-hand. Oh how they loved reporting on that one about how the Bible went up in confetti and the church people were "screaming and praying."

They call them "gunmen," these random shooters. Gunmen who decide to walk into a Virginia Tech. classroom and open fire. They reported that he killed himself, but I have seen no proof of that. Have you?

Gunmen who go into a North Carolina nursing home, of all places, and start killing people. Pinelake Health and Rehabilitation Center's Director Bernard Bryant sure is nervous about it. He had nothing to say to this writer. Some rehabilitation those folks got. On 29 March 2009, Robert Stewart fired a shot, and then another...

You ain't just whistlin' Dixie brother. Terry J. Sedlacek's fast-talking lawyer told me recently that Sedlacek has been found mentally unfit to stand trial. Well okay. What did you expect them to say?

In August of last year a man fired shots into a fitness center, killing three women and then himself. Anybody seen his toe-tag? Can I get the number off that. Sure is a lot of convenient suicide going on. And of course, like the Columbine boys, Mr. George Sodini was sure to spill his guts on a web page before going on his murder spree. How convenient for the news-hounds.

Carrying on with the Virginia Tech fear virus, in August 2009, they found a couple of dead "Godly young people" in the Richmond woods. Both VA Tech. students had been shot in "random acts of violence," the Associated Press wrote.

In March 2009 another "gunman" loosed a spray of bullets and killed-off ten Alabama people before conveniently shooting himself (is there a pattern developing here?). Along the way he burned his mother's house down. Several of the victims where his kinsmen. How convenient.

August 2009 must have been a busy month for the black-ops gang. In Kuwait, it is my belief that faux-terrorists set a wedding tent ablaze, killing 35 women and six children. They have separate wedding tents for the men. Naturally they would target the children. Their Israeli buddies sure use them for target practice. It would seem that in a fire that burns that fast and hot (three minute inferno), they may have used an oxidized bomb.

These nameless operatives must be assassins, arsonists, poisoners and cut-throats, nuclear physicists, engineers, chemists, NBCRE pilots, doctors (who inject more than vaccine?), and mercenaries trained by special forces to do exactly what they are doing -- apparently with 100% collusion, support and funding from their government gravy trains.

So Mothers, don't let your sons grow up to be these guys. Ask yourself, "who stands to benefit from such acts of terrorism?"

The Department of Homeland Security is booming, expanding like a shockwave, absorbing hoards of heretofore thumb-twiddling intelligence wieners who now have big, important jobs. Might they have something to gain? The counterfeit State of Israel, what about them? And what about the U.N.'s burgeoning global police tentacles? Should we throw in any garden-variety Johnny Law and airport body-fondler who plays along? Food for thought.

In the mean time you're being terrorized on your so-called homeland while they fry your giblets every time you get on a plane. For that kind of air fare, is all the humiliation and radiation worth it? The one time you're a sitting duck is at the airport. Just pretend that airplanes haven't been invented yet and drive. Better yet, walk. But strap your pistol on first. If those nursing home victims had pistols on their bedstands, Mr. random-shooter would not have gone near them. When a "terrorist" has to look down the barrel of a gun, it changes his perspective. Guaranteed. Keep 'um loaded.

As for all those guys that were supposed to have shot themselves after killing a bunch of people -- that could be as true as the CNN story on 9/11. A nearby "operative" could have shot the "gunman" after the "gunman" had killed a desired amount of people. Or the gunman's death could have been staged easily enough. Where's the footage? Where were the surveillance cameras that day?

There are so many ways to kill a man without leaving a trace. Long-range rifles, pathogens via aerosol and injection, airborne poisons, radioactive dust and tea (ask Alexander Litvinenko how polonium-210 tasted), silencers and nondescript bullets, glass-cutters, explosives galore, piano wire, set your house on fire... You get the idea. The government offers courses where such things are taught according to several YouTube documentaries in the genre of this one: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j1fH3YpQciQ

Is'ness

William Buhlman left town. Eckhart Tolle ain't around. Swami, always in the air. Dr. Chopra, everywhere. Charles and Annie stretched some words. Gary Zukav is for the birds (is this how ex-commandos lick their wounds?). Julius Evola spilled some beans. Can we get wise by other means?

You bet.

The Ancient Wisdom is not so wise. Time to try some other guys.

The only surrender that a soul needs to contemplate is the one to God. All other comers be ready to meet your Maker.

As for peaceful, pleasing, pixilated and conveniently-removed Eckhart, he can meditate on "surrendering to what is," after he reads this quote from a stellar military mind.

"Captain, my religious belief teaches me to feel as safe in battle as in bed. God has fixed the time for my death. I do not concern myself about that, but to be always ready, no matter when it may overtake me. That is the way all men should live, and then all would be equally brave."