Friday, November 13, 2015

Earthquake Kelley

T h e   R e v i e w s

In his autobiography, * Bound to Lose, Destined to Win *,  Earthquake Kelley gave me a tremor. 

A one-word title for Kelley's book would be "Deliverance."  For it chronicles his deliverance from hell on earth and from being hell-bound eternally.
Beautifully written, thoroughly researched, Kelley leaves no stone unturned in sharing his life story.  I learned volumes in demonology.  His knowledge of God's Word is without a flaw. 

Kelley's text is direct and concise.  His 223 pages are full of lean muscle.  No padding.  Like a boxer at the top of his game.  As I read I thought how can a man from his walk of life be so adept a writer?  Then it dawned on me that God's Calling comes with its own wherewithal.  We put pen to paper and words appear beyond our ken.

Kelley's book appears to be self-published.  This is pivotal to a man who wants to get his message to the people without corporate tampering, revisions and sabotage.  Who owns the publishing houses?  One guess.

If the snide lampooners who interview Kelley think that they are mocking this great man, the joke is on them.

In Miami I learned a little about voodoo.  A Haitian witch demonstrated her prowess at point-blank range.  The only thing that protects us from black magick is God Almighty.  A soul adrift is fodder for the devil’s minions.  As Kelley's life so poignantly demonstrates.

Curtis Kelley lives to preach the Word.  God bless him.  Here is a man whose name must needs be written in The Book of Life.  He did not start out as a man of God.  But neither did Saint Paul.  Now did he.

Any soul who cares about where he shall spend eternity, should read this book.  Kelley had a glimpse of hell during a clinical death experience.  Life-changer, that one.  He is not the only one.  Kelley writes of Jonah and the Whale.  The Bible tells us that Jonah died and went to hell before God called him back -- so Jonah could answer God's Calling.  Spat resurrected upon the beach, Jonah was never the same man.  Nobody ever is who gets a glimpse of the "don't let this happen to you club."

Kelley's book is ever clear.  I could not find a modicum of ulterior propaganda.  It rang loudly of its truths.  The sound of truth is all I heard.  It resonated from every word.  Tall tales and embellishment have a flavour.  Bishop Kelley is all about the Lord.  He stomps on every toe that needs it, whether Christian or shock rocker.

Kelley is devoid of pride, telling it straight.  Not ashamed to lay himself bare to save souls.  He preaches with the clarity and earnestness of St. Paul.  This man's heart is in his endeavor.

I have read many tall tales pretending to be sent by God.  The baloney out there is a morass, that I am certain the enemies of the Lord are hoping, will obscure what Kelley has written.  Take my good word and read Kelley's book.  In it you will find "the goods."  The road out of bondage.  Sweet deliverance.

To Kelley I give a hearty shout of approval.  Well done, my Brother.  See you in the Glory Land.

Tuesday, October 27, 2015

Das ist verboten

The same gang (one guess) who cultivated anorexia in school girls, glorified meth amphetamine in their hollywood movie * Spun *.  Now they are fostering bald heads on women.  YouTube is full of scenes cranking out of China of young women getting their heads shaved, apparently against their will.  Looks like they are being ordered to sit in a chair and let some freak botch their hair off.  Some of them were crying.  See for yourselves.  Bald woman fetish videos are all over the net.

They now have web sites that hype shaved heads in women.

Same nauseating fetish crap that I read in 2001 about anorexia.  They were singing the praises of this mental illness and making it seem chic to the young and impressionable.  Pushing it to school and college girls like a new street drug.  An ocean of web sites calling it "thinsperation."  Like I was supposed to believe this came from teenage girls?  This "movement" had to be seeded from somewhere.  One guess.

They were pushing corsets, "the goth look," and necrophilia back in the '90's.  In a defunct magazine called * Carpe Noctem * -- no shit.  They even had a creepy article in there about Chinese foot binding.  A most lurid, detailed fetish piece.  I wonder why they stopped publishing it.  Maybe they got nervous.  Kind of like how they spirited away the evidence of 9/11, Princess Diana's wipe-out, and other crime scenes.  They got nervous.

Tattoos, body-piercing, head-shaving in women -- a clear pattern can be seen in these trends.  Each one is forbidden by God.  A woman's hair is her glory wrote St. Paul.  A visual feast for her husband.  So much so that the Muslim covers it in public.  As does the habit of the holy sister.  Something treasured and admired is a woman's hair.

So it follows that to shave a woman's head would be for humiliation (which flies as a sexual perversion, take note).  The wiki-brainwashing-pedia has an article about how they shaved women's heads for punishment.  These bald French women were marched in the streets because of their support of Germany during the second world war.  So now they are pushing bald heads for women as a chic fashion statement?  I don't think so.  Only a fool would believe it.

Those who seek to control the public mind, put forth images of bald women, tattoo'ed bodies,  mutilated piercings, heinous clothes and make-up that distorts God's image in man.  These bastards are the children of the devil.  A sick buncha freaks.  One guess.

The same gargoyles who cultivate debauchery, mental illness, disease, draught, flood and sleaze are murderers, rapists, blackmailers, bribers, molesters, pornographers, dope-pushers (both pharmaceutical and street drugs), thieves, liars, swindlers and terrorists.  They abduct little girls when nobody is looking.  Chancellor Hitler exposed them in his magnum opus.  Germany was infested by them in the 1920's and '30's.  But their chancellor went easy on them.  The only sting for them was humiliation. To this day they abhor manual labor.  He put them to work in his factories.  If anybody's head got a buzz cut it was because they were crawling with lice.  Lice = typhus.  Typhus = death.  Not one of them was murdered.  Typhus killed most of them.  If I'm wrong.  Then prove it.

Sunday, July 19, 2015

Do Not Serve

Mute the sound.
The music is nauseatingly hokey like the pop songs of today's lukewarm churches.
This has often been the last stop for today's gullible military boy.
Do not serve.
You end up making war on behalf 
of the synagogue of satan (Revelation 2:9, Revelation 3:9).
These are the minions of Abaddon (Revelation 9:11).
They are liars, murderers and userers.
They are the children of the devil (the father of lies).
Today our sons die en masse for them.  
Like a hecatomb.
While their Hollywood cohorts crank movies to control your mind.
And cloud your judgment.
Like this one.

Friday, July 17, 2015


"Mohammad Youssef Abdulazeez was booked as Mohammad Youssduf Adbulazeer," reports the times free press.  Couldn't you get the lie straight?  


I do not believe this story.  It reads like another cock and bull from the same gang that committed 9/11.  You know -- the ones who stand to benefit from this kind of atrocity.  

Look at this guy.

Why does an unmarried Muslim have a beard?  Why is he smirking?

If this "news report" is true, then I shall require two things for starters:

1.  a photo of this man on a slab

2.  surveillance footage of the murder spree

They should have both.  If they can publish a photo of President John F. Kennedy lying on a coroner's slab, then we should be able to see one of this guy.  If they can publish footage of President John F. Kennedy getting his brains blown out by a sniper bullet, then we should be able to see video footage of this action.

Here is an easy scenario that has likely played out many times since 9/11.   All they have to do is kill some people and make sure that nobody sees it.  Kill anyone who does see it.  Kill the guy whom the whole thing will be blamed on.  Then brief the news jews and the police on what lie to tell the public.   Use bribery and threats to secure the objective.

The dead guy who gets blamed for the killings will not get up and argue.  Remember Seung-Hui Cho?  He was the Korean "mass murderer" who supposedly mowed down a room full of college kids at Virginia Tech in 2007.  He conveniently killed himself of course.  Afterwards an elaborate body of text appeared for the public to read that was supposedly written by Cho.  Same thing with the Oslo "mass murderer" (Anders Breivik).    Same thing with the Columbine boys.  And on and on.

It usually takes a day or two for the "authorities" to get their story straight.  Note how the news writers do not source their sources -- going against what we were taught in journalism school.  You always cite your sources.  That is rule number one of journalism.  "Journalists are in the business of truth-telling."

We are taught to check each fact three times before publishing anything.

Think of how badly this story is written.  It is full of holes and missing details.  Anonymous sources.  Nameless comments.  Alleged this and alleged that.  Charges not convictions.  Loosely-wrapped gossip is being foisted for news.

In this Chattanooga job, ask yourselves "who benefits?"  In 9/11 who benefitted?  In every act of terrorism world-wide, who benefits?  Always the same gang.  Over and over again.

Here they kill a few marines to keep the fires going in the Middle East.  This way gullible high school boys will charge off to the recruiter's office.  They will assist counterfeit israel who dares to call herself our ally.  Plagiarizing a God-given name, this falsehood needs our military to help them terrorize and slaughter their Muslim neighbors.  These jews know that all they have to do is kill a few of your loved ones and blame it on their enemies.  It has worked swimmingly in the past.  You have been falling for this routine for how many years now?

Demand forensic evidence before sending more of your sons off to die for these criminals.  For 9/11, they should be swinging from gibbets in New York Harbour.

Saturday, March 28, 2015

Errol Flynn

T h e   R e v i e w s

Supported by my investigations of available materials (text, celluloid film, video and audio interviews, web sites), I arrive at my review of this clunking canard. 

The autobiography supposedly written by Errol Flynn, *My Wicked, Wicked Ways,* is nauseating drivel that no man would write about himself. 

This text defames the memory of the dead in typical style.   I have read oceans of other such ghostwriters.  One thing a fiction writer cannot hide from is the signature stamp of his voice.  Every writer has a style that identifies him to his readers.   This book, as is the wont of other such fakes cranking from the same bullshit mill, reads like a patchwork of fiction writers.  Indeed too nice a word.  They are calumniators.  Literary sayanim.  Some of them read like newbies.  Writing is a craft.  It takes years of experience to hone your blade.  You corn balls.

In this bunko of a yarn, interestingly enough, the false accusation for which they jailed Dr. Fredrick Toben was for “defaming the memory of the dead.”  Bitch please.  Toben’s Galahad was barred from the courtroom.  Had he galloped in, he would have run them all through.  Truth is a lance, a burning sword.  And don’t you tares forget it.

Come I to write in defence of Errol Flynn. 

Flynn was killer good-looking.  Ouch.  Addressing Flynn’s false rape charge, his second wife said in an interview, “He doesn’t have to rape anybody.  Women instead are trying to rape him.”  Nora Eddington Flynn met and fell in love with her husband during his rape trial where she was employed by the court.  Go gettum tiger.

The tares of our wheat field hate Mr. Flynn for the same reason they hated John Fitzgerald Kennedy.  He was Celtic, well-bred, well-turned, bright, beautiful, talented, could navigate like a buccaneer, fetch anything he looked at and girls loved him.  Dang that smarts.  

In Flynn’s case, he came out smelling like a rose after a bit of meandering at risky jobs.  His formal education was that of a thespian amid London’s finest.  The tares cannot take this away from him.  Nor that his father was a brilliant professor of marine biology.  The boy didn’t come from white trash, you clunkers.

The ignorant average joe would think so, reading this tall tale.  A fetid forgery, it is full of contradictions to the public domain.  News releases, interviews, television programs, other books and articles have published opposite comments that are claimed by the book.  Any devoted fan of Flynn’s would know this.

Some of the sycophants and clingers on of Flynn’s day came out of the woodwork to smear him.  I infer this is because they were bribed and needed the money.  There is much truth to the adage “Every man has his price.”  Oh for the power of avarice.

One of the Nelson Twins is even on the smear wagon, calling the former owner of his boyhood home a pervert.  How much did they pay this Tiger Beat flash-in-the-pan?  I'm sure he can use the money.

Upon investigating the backgrounds of these back-stabbers, one finds that their acting and music careers never got off the ground.

But Errol’s did.  He took off like a rocket as Captain Blood.  Thence to plum role after plum role.  Headliner.  Blockbuster.  Sir Robin of Locksley.  Every woman’s dream. 

With not one bum-shot or trace of Hollywood sleaze.  A tidy, well-groomed gentleman to the last, if you please.

Despite the ridiculous, photo-shopped mustache and groucho marx eyebrows on the cover of this doozy.  The tie is suspect as having not existed in Flynn’s lifetime.  What movie star would pose for a portrait in a tie this ugly?  In Flynn’s day, clothes were a class act.  The tie in this photo bears the “tare signature” of modern art.  Which is no art.  Just insult.  A wire clothes hanger spray-painted orange and stuck in the ground.  Is their idea of art.

On a note of similitude, I recall how after Princess Diana was killed, the tares photo-shopped her visage for their magazines.  Yellow teeth, bloodshot eyes and a distorted nose.  To me it was glaring, but to others it may not have been.  They pick up the magazine and see a woman, whose beauty was besmirched with software, thinking “She ain’t that much.” The aim of the yellow press is to smear, defame, contort, ugly-up and calumniate the quick and the dead.

Note how Flynn's dead body has been published on the world wide web lying on a coroner's slab. You shall compare this indignity with a mirror outrage to President John F. Kennedy whose murdered body can be found there too.

Who would have enough money and control enough industrial choke-points to release those kinds of photographs into the public domain?  Particularly in that we journalists were taught that decorum governing the dead is a strident affair.  If you want a litmus test of my premise, see how many other dead presidents you can find on a slab in the public domain.  Or how many other public figures for that matter.  Flynn and Kennedy had a common enemy.  And they are in good company. 

Ever heard of the band called "Dead Kennedys?"  How more obvious could they be.  They even have a song entitled "Kill the Poor."  About a bomb that wipes out unwanted people and leaves their material "wealth" unscathed.  Puts a clear stamp on who is behind everything from income tax to 9/11.

So why do tares hate Flynn beyond their predictable envy?  Perhaps because he beat the crap out of Jimmy Fidler of their yellow press.  A calumniator, Fidler smeared Flynn where it hurt after Flynn’s beloved dog fell overboard and drown.  Struck a nerve.  Flynn tracked the little weasel down to the Mocambo Club.  From the many accounts I read, it was a public pouncing.  Fidler was beaten unconscious.  This put Flynn in the General Patton category.  Albeit, Patton only meted out a slap by comparison.  It was the slapping a jewish guy that earned him top spot on their shit list.

One thing about the Irish, they know how to throw a punch.  They don’t call them the fighting Irish for nothing.  Ask the army on the receiving end of Patrick Cleburne’s steel at Chicamauga.

Flynn’s admirable filmography stretches from the mid-30’s to his death in 1959 with not one break in rhythm.  Despite the labels affixed to him by this book, Flynn was a working actor till the day he died.  He starred in three movies per year on the average.  Sometimes more.  He was a moneymaker.  And they stole from his earnings like they stole from Michael Jackson.  Managers are often tares.  As are the owners of music and movie industries.

If one swallows the satanic drivel of this book, Flynn was a juvenile delinquent, dropout quitter, petty thief, satyr, gambling fan of blood sports, slave trader, honourless pig and all around scumbag.  If you go one further and read the rubbish on the web, he was a keyhole-peeper too.

Given Flynn’s hard-working career of 25 years, three wives, four children and a 118-foot schooner, I doubt he had much time for keyholes.

Paladin Communications cranks out smear jobs on Flynn. They can be seen on YouTube if you can stomach the narration.  Their Mary Matzen quotes Gunnar Nelson in one of her smear pieces from their web site.  Then natters on about secret passageways and trick mirrors in a house that was demolished to make room for new construction.

It is interesting to note how at the bottom of Matzen's smear piece, one finds a link to a page of hebrew.

One could question Flynn's text quoted from a personal letter to his German friend, Hermann Erben.  But given the concerted storm of hatred swirling around Flynn's memory, it bears consideration. 

I tip my raven plume to Errol Flynn – along with JEB Stuart.  I tip it with Shakespeare to a thespian worthy of the Round.  I tip it on behalf of George Armstrong Custer and The Charge of the Light Brigade.  O’ Kipling, O’ Tennyson, death cannot brag that he wanders in the shade. 

To this day, who can touch him?