S. H. Pearson

Hurt

2011-10-14T14:18:00.000-07:00

This article from Press TV corroborates what I have gleaned from sources in the field.

Our military men who witnessed and participated in the slaughter are now waking to the burden of their crimes. Psychologically left holding the bag, they feel the hurt of "this is gonna hurt me more than it hurts you" -- hurt. The mental burden of the assassin. The gut-pang of guilt that gnaws at mercenaries. The clanking chain of Jacob Marley.

That moment when you gun somebody down who never offended you. That moment when you squeeze off the rounds into an assigned target. Or fire a missile into somebody's house from your computer keyboard. That's the one.

That moment will haunt you until the day you die. http://www.presstv.ir/detail/204441.html

Pity the Fool

2011-10-10T10:32:00.000-07:00

Lew Puller, Jr. went through this "can do/feel good/snazzy" after losing his legs to a booby-trapped howitzer shell. He came back from the Nam a fragment. And got on with his life. For twenty years or so. Took up a law practice. Big fancy desk at the Pentagon. The whole "poster-boy" nine yards. But inside he suffered gravely.

Right now this kid is riding high on flash-bulb fever. I've seen a lot of Marines like him. I want him to be "okay" as the Jewish shrinks always say. I want him to have quality of life for the remainder of his days. Because I love those boys. And know their sacrifice.

They trusted their corporate government to be glorious ideology. They believed CNN and what they were told by their recruiters. They believed the stuff we got in boot camp. They trusted their leadership. They are always young and march on assigned enemies with 100% blind faith.

Marines are like Rottweilers. They trust their handlers. And give their all to defend and protect. They charge on command at what they believe is an enemy. Pity the fool who betrays their allegiance. Pity the fool who rapes their youth on a false-flag battlefield. Pity the man behind the curtain who planned 9/11 and sent this boy to make war on people who never offended us.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/10/10/beyond-the-battlefield-part-1-tyler-southern_n_999329.html?icid=maing-grid7%7Cmain5%7Cdl1%7Csec3_lnk1%7C103027

Bobby Sherman

2011-08-14T21:33:00.001-07:00

Bobby Sherman is a man I respect. Somebody who didn't let the Hollywood tiger-beat machine wreck his life. The all-American boy next door who was not ashamed to be decent.

Odd little bite and all, a fine fellow. Sixty-eight years of age and still as vital and fetching as ever. Working a profession that nobody can poke fun at. He delivered a baby in the street one day. When you need 'um you need 'um -- these bearers of Caduceus. You break a leg. You slice an artery. Who do you call?

911.

Wikipedia doesn't want you to remember Bobby Sherman. But they can't deny his celebrity. So they do what they can to bury him by writing a short, lackluster piece with no photography. They better not post a picture of him. Good looks are dangerous in so many ways.

When good looks belong to River Phoenix, Corey's Haim or Feldman, it's all good. But when a clean-living fellow hits the spot light, their sinister agenda is foiled. Because now impressionable youth will seek to emulate a good boy instead of the cocaine-snorting hedonist.

By advancing wholesome role models, America would take centuries to defile. Think of how hard a time the porn kings in Hollywood would have trammeling teenage girls to "star" in their next action movie.

Those creepy goth rockers, the Sisters of Mercy, had a contagious hook where they hinted at John F. Kennedy in a motorcade. They called him a motherf**ker. Flash-in-the-pan bitches.

The last thing the Jews want is to advance a beautiful face behind whose sky blue eyes teem the virtues of Western Culture. Bobby Sherman gave pubescent girls something wholesome to adore. Something to stay wholesome for.

Unlike Marilyn Manson, Trent Reznor and KISS, Bobby Sherman did not require heavy make-up, lurid gimmicks, platform shoes nor Goth getup to find his way onto the bedroom walls of America. His lyrics didn't suggest kinky-freaky nor lavish hedonism. Sherman just asked if Julie would still love him after summer break.

I didn't learn till recently how good a man he is. And how respectable a boy he was. Nice to know that the fast lane never seduced him. What a squeaky clean image. No wonder the Wikipedia doesn't want young people to know about him. He might set an example for them. Imagine that.

Young people imitate those whom they admire. Therefore, Bobby Sherman and Jeffrey Hunter must be buried. Because they can't be smeared. Sherman, like Hunter, could serve as a modern bolshevik nightmare. No wonder Wikipedia keeps them on the down-low. If they studded Bobby Sherman's little write-up with photographs, girls would go gaa-gaa. Both Sherman and Hunter would enjoy a tidal wave of resurgent celebrity.

Since Bobby Sherman is far from dead yet and not on drugs, the bitches in Hollywood know better than to fabricate a "biography" for the big screen. If they told it like it is, it would strike fear into every black heart on their team. The last thing they want to propagate is decency.

So hip-hip for Bobby. Here's the link to a pivotal radio interview. http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=829619

The reason I didn't know about him until recently is because during Sherman's hey day, I was too mesmerized by David Cassidy to notice anyone else. Teen idols are like bubblegum. Everybody has a favourite brand.

Some girls were in love with Leif Garrett. Heroin got the best of him, tight pants and all. David Cassidy turned to alcohol. I'm sure the list of ship-wrecks is a long one.

Come I today to sing the praises of Bobby Sherman. I wish I had sung them decades ago. Julie Julie Julie, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JsMONykezJM

Dyn-O-Mat

2011-08-09T13:43:00.000-07:00

It occurred to me that there have been several droughts over the last few years. Along with "earthquakes in divers places," these dry spells kill off a lot of illiterate, unskilled people. Note the present "drought-famine" in Africa for which the faceless middle man is collecting heart-string donations.

Of apparent strategically-fortuitous droughts, here are just a few: China, Somalia, India, Australia, USA, Korea.

The drought in Australia was heralded as the doom of the Outback on American TV. They blamed it on global warming. I saw a program exhibiting close-ups of wild horse foals dying of thirst in Australia. Zoom shot of their little muzzles taking last breaths. Only one kind of videographer shoots footage like that.

Some guy in Florida patented a polymer powder and sold it to the "chem-trail-spraying" government and their mercenaries. I hope Mr. Dyn-O-Mat feels good about himself. I have seen his invention at work in the storm clouds around here. They evaporate in seconds before my eyes. Same thing happens on Doppler radar if you need more proof. http://www.anomalies-unlimited.com/Chemtrails/Dyn-O-Gel.html

Oslo, the Crux

2011-07-25T22:56:00.000-07:00

http://www.youtube.com/user/o1OpTiMuS1o#p/u/6/3C8gnRdA92Q

Multi-culturalism is just another made-up Jewish word for multi-racialism. Which amounts to what happens to three-flavour ice cream when you whisk it all together.

It becomes a myucky shade of, well -- myuck. And you can't taste the flavours anymore.

http://racetraitor.org/

Case in point for Mister Race Traitor: how is it that you can spend two grand for a pure breed puppy (a few million for a pure breed horse), and yet you can't give away a mongrel pup at Wal-Mart? Hey Mister Race Traitor, why is it that they are exterminating millions of mongrel puppies at the pound? Is it because people desire mystery mutts along with their predictable behaviours and aptitudes?

What do you think Mister Race Traitor would do with a human equivalent in the future? Think "global" slave plantation with Mister Race Traitor and Company at the top, calling shots.

Mr. Race Traitor et al. admonish their children to only mix blood with others of their breed. Mind you, it is their creed. Yet they push "multi-culturalism" for everybody else. Why do you suppose?

The Scandinavians, Germans, Dutch, Swiss, English, Scottish, Irish, Welch, Spanish, Italian... (to name only a few) are of a breed. They come with distinct cultures. And deserve the right to preserve them.

Norway was getting fed up with having multi-culturalism shoved down their throats. Also they are getting riled about what the Jews are doing in Palestine. The whole literate world is getting riled with the rape of Palestine by terrorist Israeli Jews. Particularly moved are the young who wake from TV-trances. Their unison sentiment threatens to become a roaring lion.

So the Mossad hit squad has their work cut out for them (intimidation mission-wise). I believe that Israel was involved in the Oslo bombing and perhaps also the shootings. Too many dead bodies for one shooter it seems to me. It has the same "feel" to it as the Virginia Tech (Cho) killings and a subsequent rash of others that followed in the USA. One thing you'll never see them publish is the ballistics. Oh hell no.

Besides, the Jewish media has already been caught in their first fabrications concerning the accused Norwegian man. The stuff they posted on facebook about him was blatant rubbish. Alternative media is all over it. Busted yet again. You lying jackals.

Public records are easily falsified today. Less and less is on paper. Why do you think there is a hard push for "going paperless?" All a geek has to do now is change a few words in a database. The sky is the limit for the lies they put in public records. Been there. Seen that. By the direction of his high-paying handlers, a hacker enjoys full government benefits. Because only with government approval can they do what I have seen.

I believe that the voluminous text posted on Facebook that was attributed to Eric Harris (Columbine shootings) was written by a much older boy. It did not read like callow bravado. But carried a sinister gloat factor, wielding sentences beyond the polish of a high school kid. But I digress.

Note how they superimposed junk text on top of the expose in this news release: http://cofcc.org/2011/07/norwegian-killer-facebook-hoax/

The Coroner

2011-06-26T21:45:00.000-07:00

A coroner must be among the most bribed of men. An honest coroner would not be a coroner long -- I take it.

How many of those politically-charged "slain" people have we seen on a slab in a photo spread? Particularly the ones we saw getting done-up on grainy video. Why is the video always grainy? Grainy like mosaic grainy. Grainy like gravel. Video with so much "noise" that it looks like speed metal sounds.

Not so, however, with close-up 1963 glossies of the "not cold yet" John Fitzgerald Kennedy. We can all see who it is. They want us to see. More for them to gloat about. Wikipedia is a good gauge for their gloat-factor. The Wik' is a gloat-meter.

Look up Che Guevara and see what I mean. The Commies' equivalent of "head-on-a-lance." They love displaying the corpses of their killed-off challengers. Che cracked heads with Castro (I take it). He got cocky and wanted more pie. So the Commies got to scrappin'. There's a big convoluted write-up about how Guevara was out to lay new tracks in Bolivia, etc. Yadda yadda. What commie/Bolshevik/Zionist does not want to own and rule the whole world?

They are internationalists -- not nationalists. So they get greedy during their bloody revolutions and take-overs. And start crackin' heads amongst each other, typical of organised criminals. Stalin killed-off loads of his "comrades" during his stint as top dog. Woof.

For example, fake-named Leon Trotsky (Lev Bronstein, not Bronshtein as the Wik'ster has it) got on Stalin's bad side. I read in an article that Josef Stalin had an assassin slip Lev "Leon Trotsky" Bronstein some poison. Remember what they did to Mr. Litvinenko at the sushi bar. Poisoning seems popular among commies. On page 43 of July/August's edition of The Barnes Review, however, is an article that said an assassin killed Bronstein with an ax.

Trotsky/Bronstein was a proud atheist. As they wrote of Shelley, "Now he knows if there is a God or no." So watta 'bout chya, Lev. Want some ice water? Live by the sword -- die by the ax. Or was it poison? Either way, bad deal for Mr. Bronstein. All that usurping and over-throwing got him exactly squat. Now he can answer to God for what he did to all the priests and nuns. And for erecting statues of Judas Iscariot. Let him fast talk his Bolshevik bullshit to Gabriel and Michael and see how far he gets.

Deal is with the Marxists that they have no loyalty to each other. There is no brotherhood among criminals. Nor a Divine Law among them that states "love thy neighbor as thyself." So they don't. Ain't it just like a commie?

When they kill somebody they hate, they want to rub it in deep. President John F. Kennedy didn't even look asleep. Eyes wide open. Fresh kill. You could tell by the limpid clarity of his iris. Wide-eyed stare to nowhere. They hated him so hard. I wager even harder than they hated Czar Alexander.

Isn't it appalling how they want to make sure that Kennedy's family saw those photographs. What decorum would release photos like that into the public domain? He was missing most of his brain.

When I use the pronoun "they" -- they know who I mean. "They" read my blogs from all their lairs. Amsterdam, Moskva, London, Geneva... Hi guys.

Where are the photos like that of Jeremy Boorda, Seung Hui Cho, Daniel Pearl and Osama bin Laden? Hey Mr. Coroner, got any pictures for us?

On Fear and Ferocity

2011-06-08T11:16:00.000-07:00

Ever see a momma bear in defence of her young? I say that her ferocity is no more mighty than what I have seen in barn yard hens. Momma chickens are no chickens -- to those of us who bear the scars of their station. No fiercer keeping have I seen.

Imagine then what a warrior is capable of when he is fighting for his family, home and lands with the wind of God in his back. His wherewithal comes from more than what thirty pieces of silver will buy. It comes from On High.

Ferocity thus established, I must address fear.

Fear is an affliction. It has the power to paralyze. Back at the school yard, you will recall how the bully always threatened, blustered and shoved his way around before a fight. That is because his aim was to instill fear in his victim. Once fear attacks the mind, knees go limp. Equilibrium and muscles disengage.

That is how global zionism operates. First they seek to bully, menace, terrorize, frighten, scare and cow, subdue, threaten, browbeat, pressure, harass, harry, hassle, hound, torment, tyrannize, persecute, bulldoze, railroad and twist someone's arm into submission. If that doesn't work, they go the next step in their shtick.

As their "business end" they wield purchased armies to pick their fights. Military forces offered up as hecatombs to Moloch if you will. Treasonous sacrifices from impoverished governments who were hoodwinked into signing for international loans. So now the governments are over a barrel. And pay with the blood of their sons.

Right now the zionists are playing God with high technology. They think they can harness a lightning bolt. Ballistic missiles have a way of biting them in the ass, so they scramble after natural forces to multiply the military ones already in their harness.

Tornadoes, hurricanes, rain and drought. Cloud cover and dissipation is what it's all about. Harness the winds and dehydrate the monsoon. Be Zeus, Jupiter. Be the devil's dragoon.

But first make people afraid of you. Wobbly-kneed cowards are easy to control. Use the Internet to spread CIA/ADL-cranked bullshit about how the sky is falling. Fabricate lectures, books and videos to that effect and spread it like a farmer spreads manure. Cultivate your bad seeds with every aspect of media under your control. Get cowardly lions to sell their soul.

As for God's people, demoralize them with bulldozers and push over their houses. Cut down their orchards. Rape their daughters and wives. Dam-up their rivers. Poison their crops. Cut off their electricity. Blockade their supply lines. Assassinate their intelligentsia. Wreck their economy. Bleed them out with taxes. Impoverish their nation states. Maim their children. Shoot their ponies. Bury their babies.

What Abaddon (Team 666, the world money-power, zionism, whatever you wanna call it) is learning about God's people is that they are immune to cowardice. It is God's stamp upon them. They are Mujahideen. I would like to make clear that these men are not terrorists. They are God's resistance against the devil's terrorism.

Abaddon, Apollion, Lucifer, Satan, zionism, the Beast whose number is 666, eternal damnation, hell on earth -- it's all the same. Like feces or carrion by any other name.

Muslim Mujahideen in Hamas, Hezbollah and the Taliban are not to be confused with mercenary imposters purchased by our central intelligence agency and Israel. These jackals are paid to do the devil's work so it can be blamed on God's people -- who are presently under siege by armies who are under the thumb of zionist Israel (the devil's people). Same jokers who tried to sink the USS LIBERTY in 1967. And the same jokers who pulled 9/11. Are the same jokers running the USA today.

But know that they (Israel and their ADL-aided intelligence lap dogs) want you to be confused. Confusion is the crux. They want to keep you muddled so you will turn to their guiding media to keep you "informed" of world events. They want you to consult your TV so it can tell you what to think, feel, see and believe. Seeing is, after all, believing they say. If you see something on TV does that make it Gospel?

At college they showed me video software that can create a world within a world. You can fabricate a lot with videography today. What you see on TV does not prove what you see on TV. Nor does it mean that CIA/ADL's bullshit organ is anything less or more. They have a cyberspace drivel-swivel slinging lies in a global radius. Complete with publishing houses that crank their canards. As Daddy used to say, "The truth ain' in 'um." They purvey gross falsehoods to sway public opinion. An example of their work are the Phil Schneider videos. The lurid fear-mongering shtick of "Mr." Pam Schuffert is another one. And an ocean of other such frauds peppering cyberspace.

Back to the Ummah's Mujahideen. That is video shot by those getting shot at -- now that is worth your time. Do not ignore videography from God's people. They have no motive to lie to you. Your zionist media has every motive to lie to you.

Only two forces in the universe. Right and wrong. Learn it now or learn it too late.

The Devil's Work

2011-06-07T19:19:00.000-07:00

You dare represent me and my Nation? You dare stomp with your mercenary boots into Muslim lands and kick in their doors? You dare slaughter innocents for Israel? You dare to be the business end of Talmudic Zionism?

What sadism possesses you to shoot their ponies and kick their chickens? You kill their sheep? You disrespect their women and elders? Cut down their trees and burn their homes? Rocket their villages from unmanned aircraft? Bomb babies in their sleep. Force children and old men to walk at gun-point before you as mine-sweepers. Have you no moral compass? Have you no mind of your own? What man gives orders like these? And what man follows them? Ask yourself that while posing with your trophy kills.

Who can blame the Mujahideen and Afghan Taliban for defending their land, homes and families from such as you? If you were in their shoes, invader, what would you do? Whatever happened to the Golden Rule? "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." The words of the Lord still hold true.

There are some military orders that should not be taken. You got a gun in your hand? Then no man is in a position to tell you to do a damn thing. Keep that in mind as you carry on in Afghanistan building the clanking chain of Jacob Marley. The longer it gets, the heavier it gets. And you will drag it to your grave.

Unlike past wars, today journalists can publish your deeds faster than your speeding bullets. "The evil that men do lives after them. The good is oft' interred with their bones." So let it be with you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GuBSTlzuof8&feature=feedlik

Poppies for Pat

2011-06-05T20:21:00.000-07:00

"Why am I guarding the poppy fields?" -- had to be one of Pat Tillman's last thoughts as somebody picked him off at close range with o'-so-friendly fire. A brother-in-arms watched him expire. A sell-out to the regime. A servant of the team. Another black-ops android going about the devil's work. Thinking and doing exactly what he's told. Mercenary bastard. This is for you.

"Momma, why am I guarding the poppy fields? I thought I was sent here to fight terrorists..."

So the advertising department saw that their glorious poster boy back-fired on them -- oops. He wasn't just brawn and a pretty face. Red alert you doers of the dirt. He did his own thinking. Wrote home to Momma. And threatened to expose your bitch-ass reason for another fake war. Just like Vietnam except now there's even more. Afghanistan makes the old opium business look like small beans.

Revenue revenue. It's all about the money. No matter that my sister was buried long before her time because she couldn't leave the smack alone. I saw her friends at the wake. Mostly skin and bone. They were soon to follow.

Hey sniper-boy. I hope you feel good about what you've done. Gone the sun. All the river has run out. Nobody left to scream and shout. No bird or insect sounds. No guard to make the rounds. What chya gonna do then? Who you gonna call? Your Daddy? Your Momma? Your government handler?

Wow

2011-06-03T15:02:00.001-07:00

Arthur, you're out-banging me.

http://www.radicalpress.com/?p=1315

Google Ads Anyone?

2011-03-23T12:49:00.000-07:00

A few minutes ago, I clicked on a link to one of my blog articles and saw this “ad” at the bottom of the page. It has a local phone number for me to dial. The article, however, had nothing to do with the ad (they are supposed to be automatically generated based on text content). The un-related article was written over a year ago.

But my cat was stomped to death a few days ago. He was killed two houses over by new neighbors who do not know me. We are in possession of evidence and a medical report that supports what I have written on the following link:
http://shpearson.wordpress.com/2011/03/17/palmer-tycho/

Here is the ad from Google that was found on my blog today:

Ads by Google: DEAD Animals 305-232-1100, Dead Pets and Unknown Animals - Fast Pickup/ Cremation and Burial, www.HumaneAnimalRemoval.com

Brad Renfro

2011-02-04T19:29:00.001-08:00

The Hollywood party syndrome – sometimes it gets the best of people. In the case of Brad Renfro, the Los Angeles fast lane slammed him into a near-silent knell – the kind Hollywood rings for you when they don’t want to know you.

Renfro was a field-day for the yellow press. His long line of arrests were well-publicized as he tore along. We can hardly call his acting career a canter. It was an impetuous gallop and always through some farmer’s cornfield. Kicking up the sod, tearing up the rows. He was going to have his fun.

At the age of ten he was discovered by one of those Hollywood casting scouts, plucked out of his native Tennessee like a flower on a hillside. They slapped him into the lead role of John Grisham’s The Client surrounded by big-name actors like Susan Sarandon, Tommy Lee Jones and Mary-Louise Parker. This was Renfro’s baptism into the roiling kettle of Hollywood hedonism. There went his childhood.

For not long after that he was emblazoned all over those feverish teen girl rags in sexualized clothes and poses. What kind of journalist writes for those? What kind of photographer takes pictures of boys his age and hawks them like sexual commodities to anyone who can turn a page? They had Brad Renfro shirtless; wearing low-riding black leather pants like the ones Jim Morrison wore in Gloria Stavers’ photo spread.

The difference, however, was that Gloria Stavers was shooting a man for her teeny-bopper magazine, not a child. Morrison in those pictures had not only been around the block, his elk-baritone rattled jaws. He was a thing to be protected from, Stavers should have caveat’ed, and not corrupted. After that shoot Ms. Stavers may not have recovered her gait for weeks. Nobody has a problem with that. The Editor-in-Chief of SIXTEEN Magazine got what she deserved (and probably wanted), but some of the pictures taken of Brad Renfro for that genre of periodical are another story.

After The Client, Renfro was sucked into the Hollywood machine. They got their money’s worth out of him every year. He worked steadily from his first movie in 1994 until 2006 even despite his horrendous drug addictions. In 2001, for example, he turned out five movies. Usually he would work in one or two films per year.

There was no childhood for Renfro after he left Tennessee. Soon the Hollywood vampire would suck blood from one vein while he injected coke into another. This became his life – moving in a world that vacillated between the brightly-lit camera eye and orgasmic underground of the L.A. Baiae. Like many who bit the dust before him of the same disease, they would concede that the glittering smog-pit was a pleasure dome until you fell out of her favor.

The money was good, the lanes were fast and the drugs were hard. Once a thrill-seeking rebel without a cause gets a taste of that, often it is like a reef shark at a feeding frenzy. The eyes are sheathed in white and nobody comes up till the drugs are gone. The director of Bully, Larry Clark, said that Brad Renfro was the worst case he had seen.

In order to get the cameras rolling on Bully, Clark had to kidnap his star from Knoxville, Tennessee, personally. He lured Renfro into his car and took off for Florida while the young actor went through cocaine withdrawals. Renfro had been injecting cocaine into both arms when Larry Clark came to collect him. By this point Renfro was riding high on a wave of status that his previous film roles had given him. As long as he had what they call “the magic” in Hollywood, he could get in trouble, get arrested, go to rehab and still enjoy the ride. At 18, however, he had reached his zenith. Larry Clark would see the last of Brad Renfro’s heyday.

It is a sad thing to see how rapidly and rabidly the Hollywood machine exploited young Mr. Renfro. He was marketed as a child sex symbol by teen magazines and then as a porn star on the set of Bully by an industry knowing that nothing sells like sex. It was as if they could not wait until he turned 18 so they could cast him in a movie riddled with soft-core pornography. To some folks this might appear unwholesome. The word “wrong” might even rear its head.

Naturally the selling point of Bully was naked teenagers having sex. This took off like a rocket in Japan where eager-to-please, smitten young women were lined up outside of Renfro’s hotel. One of these girls would become the mother of his son, Yamato. Daddy was a rolling stone.

In 2002 Renfro’s acting career had crested and was on its sad descent. The fire had gone out of his deliveries. The Hollywood party syndrome had aged him. He looked older than his years at 19 and 20. The magic that had catapulted him to stardom was gone. His performances had mellowed like the oratory of an aging politician. He no longer spat fire, but rather mumbled his lines in a kind of lackluster insecurity. He had resigned himself to the downward spiral of his addictions.

This resignation is supported by the lyrics of the songs he wrote. He suffered the characteristic highs and crippling lows of all addicts. “I don’t want to feel this way” was a salient anthem. Renfro, a consummate musician since childhood, pleasured himself with strings and vocals. He spent a lot of time singing and playing the guitar, banjo and mandolin. Unlike with Elvis, this musical turn was kept separate from his Hollywood life. But like Elvis, it would be the same machine that laid him low.

Music was a comforting nurse to him in a childhood devoid of guardians and it became his therapy as he grew older. It was a way for him to lick his wounds. Sometimes it was his “hard jazz and needles.” Music became a private world into which he would retreat from the circus outside. Between takes on a movie set, in his trailer, he would pick up his guitar and disappear into strains and riffs. Music came streaming from his guitar with the vigor of a mountain river. He was a natural musician in all facets unlike Elvis who was mostly a vocalist. Who says you have to know how to play guitar or write lyrics to get crowned the King of Rock and Roll? Life is unfair like that.

From the looks of Renfro after 2002, his drugs of choice were no longer the speeders, but the downers. He was consuming a lot of booze which gave him a bloated appearance. That heroin was wreaking havoc with his digestion was obvious. To the trained eye the ravages of his addictions told a tale. The racing white lady of his teens had given way to a comforting warm gun. He was now in the firm clutches of heroin – a smothering embrace that would carry him to a lethal injection at the age of 25.

What one might find as curious is how Heath Ledger, a foreign contemporary of Renfro’s, was canonized as a Hollywood saint by the media and movie industry after his drug-related death in the same month. It begs the question: is it because Ledger was better at not getting caught or is it because Hollywood is a kind of fickle fraternity that not everybody can join?

A popularity contest is always in progress in Hollywood. You can’t put your finger on what it is exactly but one determining factor seems to be that they have an unspoken code that must never be broken: “Don’t get caught.” If you get caught it reflects back on the industry. If you get caught journalism students like this one will write feature stories about it. Implications will be made that Hollywood is a festering cesspool of iniquity that fosters vices and rapes youngsters of their childhood. Don’t get caught Golden Boy – if you do we’ll drop you like a sack of rocks and pretend we never knew you.

Brad Renfro was shunned on Oscar night. Every year the Academy commemorates its dead. Not a peep about his departure. Renfro died a silent, unacknowledged death in the arms of his L.A. Woman. To the industry that sucked his life-force he may as well have been road-kill.

The expired wreckage of his remains was quietly spirited back to Blaine, Tennessee, for burial. Instead of an Oscar for his pains he got a toe-tag. The scarlet seductress that is Hollywood, California, has gotten her last bang out of Brad Renfro.

Like a disgusted paramour, the L.A. Woman was finished with him. “Back you go now boy, no longer golden, to your redneck kinsmen. I got all out of you that I can get. Let’s just pretend we never met.”

Jagged Fingers

2011-01-23T16:07:00.000-08:00

I watched a mental hygiene movie aimed at Marines. In Cover Me, it looked like a chaplain working his way down the ranks as he took both hands of each Marine in his, saying, "you're gonna make it." With ceremoniously crossed arms, he gripped their hands firmly, offering words of encouragement. It was apparent that his moves were well-rehearsed. Looking them in the eye, giving it all he had by way of religious witchcraft, he cast his spell of faith, hope and apple pie. The chaplain did his best to put the military hocus-pocus on gullible youth. Those poor boys swallowed it hook, line and sinker. Then marched off to war.

Vietnam all over again, yes? You should read the freak postings of that faceless, nick-named nurse on one of the medical forums. He/she goes on about the field medicine practice opportunities in the blood-bath of Afghanistan. Oh how sweet it is to get the chance to saw somebody's leg off, right? Their stuff reads like a scene from Fangoria. Screw the Hippocratic Oath, let's just compare horror stories. The giddy, o'-so-delightful listings of goodies from the war zone include tales of battle wounds, exotic infections and other "fascinating accounts" of blood and guts.

I don't think these people are Angels in Green. They won't list their real names. I file them in the genre of the emergency medical technician who couldn't wait for his next ambulance ride so he could take Polaroids of the dead people from high-speed car crashes. Then trade them like baseball cards with his paramedic pals later in the snack room.

This long war, like Vietnam, is attracting vultures, ghouls, morgue freaks, opportunists and "dee-fence" contractors who are making a killing off of killing. In the mean time, Stateside, you have suicidal recruiters who are tired of telling lies and blowing hot smoke up high school boys.

There are legions of "professions" skimming more than their share off the war machine. The medical mania looks like a swarm of cat-eyed reef sharks tearing into fresh meat. They can't get there fast enough to rip off their piece of the action -- so they can brag about it. I just wanna slap them down. They shall never stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the Navy corpsmen I have known. Never.

I have felt the jagged fingers of Lewis Puller, Jr., as he shook my hand from a wheelchair. He was an advising lawyer on the General's Staff back then. When he wheeled out from behind his desk, I was shocked. He was missing both legs from the hip. The Marines in his Platoon told me that Puller stepped on a booby-trapped Howitzer shell. It was from these Marines that I learned the value of a corpsman. And the value of a man who is thrust into war on a half-asst whim. Sent back a fragment. And is expected to get on with his life. Puller gave it a shot. Gave it all he had. Then he shot himself. (photo from the handsome Webmaster @, http://1stmarines.org/)

It is heartbreaking to see how many psychologists, behavioural scientists, grief counselors and psychiatrists are cashing-in on analyzing the suffering of America's fighting man. They matter-of-factly lecture their crafts and regurgitate what they have been taught in their fancy schools about aggression and fear hormones. They have teased apart the brains of lab rats with tantamount clinical detachment to be sure.

Taking the cake is one Ph.D. of Psychology and Research. Luxuriating in her pearlescent eye-shadow, she calmly describes the horror of combat for today's sacrificial lambs who are taught to think of themselves as wolves. What qualifies her to talk about such things?The Red Badge of Courage? As she smiles, basking in the focus of her videographer, they cut to scenes of a wounded Marine writhing on a helicopter litter as he is being med-evac'ed. With another lipstick smile she says, "You can't control what your body does during a traumatic or stressful event." Duh. No kidding. And what of those might she have known?

Then another brilliant comment from yet another cosmetically-assisted Dr. of Psychology, "It's okay if you're not okay." The Sgt. Major of the Marine Corps had this to say, "Get them help -- so we can get them back in the fight."

They wrap up this pep-talk with a corny song (Calling All Angels) and a quote from Rudyard Kipling, "The strength of the wolf is in the pack. And the strength of the pack is in the wolf." After watching the "film" you can send your comments to Director/Producer Norman Lloyd.

Clearly they are worried about another case of "maxed-out and pist-off." Traumatic stress is hard on the body and the spirit who is jailed for a term within. Pop some corn and gather 'round for this sure-fire Oscar pick. http://www.semperfifund.org/resources.html

Prince of Eloquence

2011-01-02T11:03:00.000-08:00

Another tour de force from the Prince of Eloquence. Clearly this man is a gift from God to not just Pakistan, but to our wounded world. Snap it up: http://takbeeremusalsal.blogspot.com/2011/01/zaid-hamid-explains-what-he-does-best.html

D-101

2010-12-14T11:51:00.000-08:00

   I encountered a child under five years old at a public place. In good-natured pursuit of conversation, I greeted her and she ignored me. There was no reason for this aversion to my person based on the setting and situation. Yet the girl avoided all interaction with me. She suffered no impairment as proven by her coherent engagement with others in the room. It was only me whom she ignored -- for some reason.
            At this point I was intrigued and pursued the rapport more aggressively. Upon several attempts to engage the child she finally looked at me. I could feel something big and dark rolling down the tracks as we locked focus.
            The reason this kid was ignoring me is clear. Her in-dweller sensed mine. They clashed. One outranks the other, but because evil spirits are given to pride and arrogance, they will not depart their lodgings without a fight. To the jinn, "might is right." Her first tack, thereby, was to ignore me. Maybe I would go away.
            In this case, the child was in the firm grip of a malevolent boarder that had her overshadowed. Once he felt that hiding in the child was no longer tenable—he flaunted himself to me.

Suddenly the girl began to speak in sardonic quips. She was terse, incisive and eloquent, speaking from the diaphragm with the charisma of a dictator. As we engaged, she exhibited the wit and wiles of an arch-fiend not just centuries old, but hailing from outside of time. She lied skillfully and glibly in response to all my questions. Her evil entity was acrid, shrewd and cunning. He sensed my inner world and hated me for it with the same gusto that he enjoyed being inside the child. He looked at me through the girl's eyes smugly, staring down my lack of fear.

I have encountered such cases rarely in the past. They are examples of great, ranking jinn who inhabit the bodies of children. You will know them by what secular humanists call “precocity.” The seculars often seek to mitigate phenomena for which they lack scientific explanations. Precocity in this case would be an understatement.

A lesser example that most of you have witnessed is the child in a public place who suddenly throws himself backwards onto the floor. You will hear his skull crack from the impact but he will survive to wreak all manner of havoc for the duration of his parent’s public embarrassment. He will shriek and scream unearthly screams. He will kick, thrash and destroy things in his midst with superhuman strength. The seculars call this phenomenon “a tantrum.” Some of you will call it more than that.

Note how self-injury is the signature of these episodes. A child will thrash like a tarpon on the hook. He will smash his head into walls, furniture and uncarpeted floors. Ever wonder why? How different is this behaviour from what we see in an angry man who smashes his fist into a brick wall? Is that not self-injury? It serves no other utility. It is a signature. An identification stamp of "the driver." Because clearly in both cases, the life-force for whom those bodies were born are in the back seat -- along for the ride.
There are children who do sadistic things to animals. Sometimes they grow into serial murderers. When children under the age of five do diabolical things, be certain that these acts hail from the same land as do all such acts in all such people. They serve no utility other than to commit abomination. Once again -- a signature stamp. Whether child or adult, the stamp remains the same. Shining a spotlight on the term "senseless killing."

One should kill for a purpose. Self-defence tops the list. A warrior should not be mercenary. Neither should an executioner. Predation is part of the food-chain. Any other predation is an abomination. A hunter kills for food, not for sport. You get me?

I feel compelled here, to mention the kindly virtuous Jews again. As they so adore the Church of St. Peter the Rock and Mosque of Islam. It dawns on me that the reason they dote on Germany with tantamount tenderness is for the same reason they cherish the Bride of Christ.

Let us make the connection. The Holy Roman Catholic Church has a long history for expelling evil spirits. They call it exorcism. In our Bible it gives us license to cast out demons in the Lord's Name. The Catholic Church has taken this license very seriously over the centuries. And good on them. Somebody needs to.

What do Germany, the Catholic Church, Christian monarchs and 49 countries have in common? They have all expelled the Jews. Talmudic Judaics have been sent packing by countries far and wide since 740 A.D. The Pontiffs of the ages have given them short shrift and no quarter. As have the crowned Christian heads of Europe.

Germany was just the most recent country to expel them. Hence the taste of der Führer's Vaterland is the freshest in their mouths. They have been drop-kicked many times before and for exactly the same reasons -- that Jesus cast out demons. They have been the doers of evil deeds.

What evil deeds you ask? The list is so long that it would take me several volumes to write. But you can start with Arnold S. Leese's little book on Jewish Ritual Murder. It's a rocker. Leese paid for his investigations with jail time, of course. But his research survives him -- bar none. Fifty-seven pages of brass tacks. Based on bibliography and Europe's statuary, what Leese wrote might as well be in stone. He did his homework and can ride in my cavalry any time. He delineated the impetus for Russian pogroms. Wikipedia sure won't tell you. The Jews bewail their "persecution" over the centuries but they never tell you the "why" of it. And why is that? Curious? Start here (My Irrelevant Defence: Meditations Inside Gaol and Out on Jewish Ritual Murder, London: I.F.L. Printing and Publishing, 1938) and work your way up to 9/11. Throw in Gaza for good measure. And the "why" shall come into focus.

To see these "evil spirits" at work all one has to do is study the French and Bolshevik revolutions. Here they fomented and harnessed "possession en masse." It is when a blood-thirsty mob acts as though they are directed by one mind. They move in unison like a school of fish or swarm of locusts. No one individual is the leader, yet they all cooperate as though they are tapped into the same command center. The Jews turned this mob loose in the streets to do their dirty work for them in France and Russia.

Those who incited these bloody revolutions knew that the illiterate boor was ideal kindling for their work of political arson. They started the fire with agitation and promises to the "proletariat." They of course lied. And the simpleton for whom the hammer and sickle was made an oriflamme -- got duped.

Today we stand at the precipice of getting had like Russia's proletariat. As Americans grow dumber and dumber, geese appear smarter. They navigate beautifully without gadgets from satellites. Wake the flock up.

GPS and TV will turn your brains to mashed potatoes. Learn to read a road map. Turn off the TV. Know where you are going. Get the lay of the land. If you act like a muffin, you shall be eaten as one. Invest in a reading lamp.

Pakistan

2010-11-22T18:29:00.000-08:00

26 November 2008 is when it started -- my awareness of Pakistan. I was on the last leg of my last semestre. Seeing the home-stretch and a possible graduation day. My head was down, plowing the last jagged mile.

Then the “news” hit about the Taj Mumbai and how Indians were gunned down in the streets. India and the Jewish news media were quick to point at Pakistan and yell, “terrorist.”

It seemed formulaic to me by then, their point and yell routine. I saw the same one played out on 11 September 2001. Suddenly every Muslim I saw took on a new status. One minute I was having a pleasant chat with an Egyptian Arab and the next, she wore a stigma. We sat next to each other as the news of 9/11 was announced. Immediately I saw her as a potential terrorist and religious fanatic. The power of Jewish television yet again -- spreading its manure and doing its dirt. This time they were out to assassinate the character of an entire Faith.

As I was inundated with scenes from India in November 2008, I began to question the news. The killers could have been any South Asian men. It occurred to me that when you cross the border from India into Pakistan, there is no change in how people look. That is because Pakistanis are of the same breed as Indians, the Indo-Aryan race.

The Muslim Faith of Pakistan is the reason there is a Pakistan. In 1947 there was a massacre of Muslims by Hindus. After the bloodbath, it was deemed that a separate region should be allotted to Indian Muslims. Since then there has been nothing but bad blood between India and Pakistan. According to Zaid Hamid, "Pakistan and India were separated on the basis of religion. Pakistan is an ideological Islamic State just as Israel is an ideological Jewish, though illegal State, and India is an ideological Hindu Zionist State. Both India and Israel are natural allies against a State which is not just Islamic but also nuclear armed."

Given this history, consider the following: India is a 3rd world country known for its corruption. They test-drove socialism after the partition of Pakistan much to their disappointment. Now they are tucked in bed with Israel like much of the money-loving world, doing the high-step to meet Zionist agenda.

Part of this agenda, apparently, was to frame Pakistan for acts of terrorism in 2008. As my investigative mind ran its course on the Mumbai killings, I began to publish related questions in my university blog. Part of our grade in Online Journalism was making blog entries about current events.

My initial questions were about forensic evidence. Every dead body has a story to tell, despite the old adage of how "dead men tell no tales." This is borne out by how hard it is to get five minutes of a coroner's time. From journalists like me they bolt for the hills. I noticed how quickly the killers were killed-off after their killing spree. It was as if they didn't want those guys talking to anybody. As if what the killers knew was nothing unknown to those who did the clean-up job. Why else kill them off so fast? There are murderers sitting in "protective custody" to this day awaiting some kind of legal procedure. You would think that in a case of international terrorism, the "authorities" would have questions for the killers.

Give me a corpse and I can tell you volumes. Levantine Semites are of a distinct breed. Their eyes, lips, facial bones, lashes and nasal cartilage cannot masquerade as something else. Any more than an Eastern European Ashkenazi Khazar can masquerade as a Semitic anything. So too, in a pure-bred race such as South Asia's, an anatomist can discern the facial signature of an Indo-Aryan. None of this information was reported about the Mumbai killers. Why not?

In the case of our dead Mumbai shooters, medical examiners gleaned enough to seal the case. But we never heard a peep from the media. Why not?

Not long after the Mumbai media circus, I came across a series of English-language videos featuring Pakistan’s Zaid Hamid. In them he presented his thorough investigative report on the acts of terrorism that India attributed to Pakistan. I watched all the videos and read his report. Everything he said and wrote supported my earlier thoughts on the matter. What Hamid substantiated answered many of my questions. A photograph exposed one of the killers as a Hindu male by a thread bracelet he wore that is intrinsic to Hindu tradition. Call that "photographic evidence" if you will. Zaid Hamid’s report can be found here: http://www.brasstacks.ca/?p=922

The most stunning detail of Hamid’s delivery was how it came at a confident gallop. If a man is not telling the truth, there is no such flow to his discourse. He will pause to think, fabricate, hesitate, and sometimes even stammer.

Truth is always in long-term memory and falsehood is not. Truth is never something one has to remember because it resides in random access memory. This is why they cross-examine witnesses in court rooms. Sooner or later, a liar will forget his previous lie. Hence the slips about the 9/11 story from government officials.

I believe that Hamid is correct in his deductions. That India employed, like my government did in 9/11, an act of “home-made terrorism.” I believe that India sacrificed its own people to perpetrate an act of false-flag warfare to frame Pakistan as a terrorist State.

This of course is supported by the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) who have vested interests in disarming Pakistan as a nuclear power. This is because Pakistan makes Israel nervous and NATO genuflects to Israel.

I believe what happened in Mumbai on 26 November 2008 was an attempt to create pretext. If India had any evidence to prove their cry of Pakistani terrorism, it would have been put on the table by now.

For example, the student who allegedly killed his university fellows at Virginia Tech and the grainy video-tape of Daniel Pearl’s beheading was submitted to the public mind as truth. However, until we see forensic evidence proving who did what to whom and when, what do we really have? The word of the media? How good is that? These are the same people who wrote that a German guy killed the Lindbergh baby and Osama bin Laden master-minded 9/11.

I was a college student during the Virginia Tech Massacre and noticed right after the killings how my university installed video cameras everywhere. All the classroom doors had automatic locking devices put on them as well. Were those more staged killings to serve as pretext for other agendas? How can you disprove it? Any forensics on that Cho kid? If you are waiting for them to show up in the news, I wager that you will have a long wait.

What the Mumbai Massacre of 2008 shares with the Nazi Holocaust is how both accusers are screaming bloody murder, yet have no evidence. If they had any evidence to prove their story, it would be flapping in the breeze from every flagpole by now.

Damage

2010-10-06T14:34:00.000-07:00

There are certain things we don’t know. Like what kind of drug earned Mr. Hershman his present address at the county jail. It had to be more than a marijuana cigarette. Wouldn’t you think?

Hershman’s 27-year-old estranged wife, Stephanie, had his two sons back-to-back. One was three and the other not quite two. Makes for a busy household I’d say. Whatever it was that lured U.S. Army Sergeant First Class Matthew V. Perkins into the arms of Stephanie Hershman had to be a strong draw.

He was the Army Recruiter of the town. A high-visibility military post that enjoys prestige and hero-worship. He wore the status of returning warrior with tours in both Iraq and Afghanistan. His arms are covered in “Billy-Bad-Ass” tattoos. His job is to lure gullible high school boys into signing on the dotted line for Israel. He needs to cut a nice figure. Be in good physical condition. Be credible and sharp. The U.S. military conducts routine urinalysis exams to ensure that this is how it is and stays.

It seems untenable that here comes a man fresh from the battle-field to an important career-enhancing post who just nilly-willy takes up a drug habit. All of a sudden. Why would he brave two battle fronts and then shoot himself in the foot with Methamphetamine?

Perkins had something to lose. Why not just knock back a little booze? His office was located between George Dickel and Jack Daniels distilleries. Damn boy. Why crystal meth? Just go over to Daddy Billy’s and have a few beers.

Maybe he wasn’t into drinkin’. So I got to thinkin’. About horses. When I’m in a quandary, I think about horses. Sometimes an equine analogy helps me make sense of things.

We see eye to eye, horses and I. They love me. I don’t need to take up a whip to make a pony do the high-step. He does it just to impress me. Among other things. And I give him the candied apple of my smile. That’s how it is with me and horses. And has been for a while.

So you throw in an apple or two with his oats and molasses. Now he wears you weightless with a skirt of tasses. And the grooming -- sessions in the barn where I break a sweat while they lull and bathe in the fragrance of last summer’s hay. That is the way. You get out of a horse what you put into him. Like attracts like. You give love. You get love.

Conversely, if you abuse a horse and kick him around. He might kick you back. Horses are formidable kickers. Keep that in mind, Jack. Not everybody treats a horse like I do. Not even close. Heartbreaking reality.

As a realist I’ll take you now to the shows, the races. Where men go to win. For the horses who run their races and dazzle in the shows -- anything goes. Ruthless people will resort to any dirty trick to win.

The foremost edge is an injection of amphetamine. It hops them up. Gives them the charge beyond charge that propels them down the track. As if a good horse isn’t rocket enough. It’s about winning. By a nose. By a hair. Just winning.

Now let’s go to the battle field. You’re losing your ass. Getting it handed to you in spades. The assigned enemy believes in his fight. You are making war on his land and he knows it better than you do. Like the Confederates and the Swamp Fox. They will not only fight you to the death, but they have a home-turf advantage.

Your supply lines are iffy. Big Money wants to win now-today. He wanted to win yesterday. He doesn’t care about that race horse or know him personally. If he loses one more race he’s off to the slaughter-house anyway. He doesn’t care if the horse is only two years old. Off with his head. He’ll put it in your bed, General.

Your Big Money Boss wants to gloat in the glory. He doesn’t care about those soldier boys. Or whether they come back with a dog-tag or toe-tag. He just wants to win.

The tactical mind says if I was losing a war under great pressure and fear of my over-lords, I might resort to a dirty trick or two. You can give a soldier methamphetamine and he will stay awake for days while the enemy has to sleep. Wired and full of crazy aggression, your forces can sneak up on sleeping Pashtuns and cut their throats all night long. A smooth, quiet operation.

Crystal meth has a similar effect as ergot mushrooms did for Vikings. Before a raid, Vikings ate them for boosted vim and aggression. They went berserk. It is how they got their name “berserkers.” They were noisy frontal attackers, clanging battle-axes, these braided Beowulf’s.

But silence would better serve today’s losing officer in Afghanistan. Just ask Boeing Aerospace. They mute their jets so you can’t hear them with your rag-top down. Even with them flying low-passes just a little over your head. Way-low. Nocturnal stealth is everything to a hunting owl. And silence has its place when people are sleeping. Particularly those whose throats you plan to cut. They can't scream and they can't see you coming. There is a fine line between predation and war.

Given that the men in charge of today’s “War on Terror” are advancing world terrorism for Israel, anything goes. 9/11 sure did. It’s a false-flag warfare extravaganza. Who says those guys who are blowing up in cars did it on purpose?

I see a possibility for Stephanie Hershman’s draw-factor. She may have had a taste for drugs, seeing as her estranged spouse is in the slammer for them. Since birds of a feather seek each other out, she may have attracted Sgt. Perkins with something other than two toddlers. What it was may or may never come out in the media.

That meth was a factor in these horrendous murders is on the street. I was just thinking about the “why and how” of it. What kind of mother lets her boyfriend do crystal meth around her kids? Isn’t that where you draw the line? Without the forensics, one can only conjecture.

A plausible scenario is that one or both of the toddlers might have been fussy or crying. The psy-op of a crying baby was used to torment the Waco compound before they torched it. Keep in mind that toddlers and babies can sometimes test the nerves of their parents. On 19 September, you not only had a non-parent in the house with these children, but a hopped-up battle ax. One whose kill routine may have been second nature. Like that of a kosher butcher's.

Sounds to me like he snapped. Post-traumatic stress is a possibility. There are Vietnam veterans who struggle with it to this day. Not every man digests blood and guts the same way.

Looks like this War for Israel is making monsters of our men. (note that the following link has been disabled by my monitors and "damage-control central" -- chortle...) So just copy/paste it into your URL window. Hell yeah. http://www.tsinews.com/news/1242-breaking-murder-suspect-caught-in-coffee-county.html

(note: the following link will lead you to a blank slot where the Jewish-owned Manchester Times has retracted what they previously published about this brutal murder. Why is that? Most of Tennessee print media is owned by Jack Fishman who uses Mark Cox as a cover name for his Middle Tennessee enterprises. Why is that? Fishman's son, Jeff, is now the editor of the Tullahoma News, the neighboring town's long time paper. Why is that? They had a perfectly good editor before the Fishman nepotism.)

http://www.manchestertimes.com/news/view_sections.asp?idcategory=47&idarticle=4587

To a Ghost-writer

2010-10-05T10:01:00.000-07:00

I’m getting a transmission...

Here it comes.

Dude. Dost thou fancy thyself a lyricist? Do not so.

Lyricism is God-given.

Your bogus book riles the ire of Powers and Thrones whom you seek to distance from their Faithful. Are you prepared for the reaping of what you have sown? Are you aware of who knows what you own?

As typical of your kind, you hide behind fronts, fakes, facades and sobriquets. Pen-names, pseudonyms and other people who front your holdings. Even your legal names you change frequently enough. You hide behind women who get called CEO’s that would never quiz you on your Dante and couldn’t quiz you on much else. It has the same effect of installing certain “leaders” in parliaments and white houses. Doesn’t it...

The ones who could think for themselves, got picked off like deer or had bombs thrown under their coaches. Oh how you hate a Catholic. They have the prettiest churches don’t they... Nothing your ilk could ever design or build. You lollipop guild.

How do you like my ellipses? Indeed, if not for ellipses, that load you wrote would lighten up considerably. But one must use ellipses when taking that much text... out of context.

The telling wall for what you wrote is how you did it with immunity. Impunity. Anybody else would be dragged into court for libel. This is how we know that you are cranking decoys and damage-control for trillionaires. Ones to whom most governments are abject whores. Governments who are aware of your text and turn a blind eye to it. Just part of the campaign. The silent war against Jesus Christ. You idiots dare.

Here is a goodly fare. This nameless hack fancies himself a word-smith. But your kind cannot make art. Remember? Access denied. You don’t have permission to make art. Glaringly it is how we know you. The stamp upon you.

As for Joe McMoneagle, that’s just to let you people know that you are not the man in charge. Nor looming large. Watch you sixes. All three of them.

On Socrates

2010-09-30T19:27:00.001-07:00

One might consider the propensity of Socrates in how it echoes the teachings of Jesus Christ. It reads from historical record that God was a dirty word in how Socrates used it much the same way as it rubs against the grain of secular thought today.

The difference is that in the days of Socrates, piety to the Greek Pantheon of gods was part of good citizenship. Going against the accepted religious practices and thoughts was labeled as a kind of heresy, among other things, for which Socrates was condemned. His clean break from the religious consensus of the Greek majority gave his enemies ammunition to use against him in a court of law.

In giving glory to God, Socrates sealed his death warrant. In rebuking the pious sophistry of the Jews and answering that He and God were one and the same, Jesus of Nazareth sealed his death warrant similarly.

Upon surrendering the ego, one is defeated in his ego-centric uphill charge. Defeat by today’s definition is surrender. Though this charge is unrealistic and spiritually self-defeating, secular man pushes on in his stubborn, self-seeking “intelligence” – an intelligence that Socrates and Jesus both dismissed.

To secular man defeat has a flavor. One is defeated by an army in battle, by another lawyer in court, by a sharper wit in sophistry, by a sharper blade in a sword-fight and ultimately by inevitable death – so ego-centric society would have one believe. This current of thought has not changed since the days of Socrates.

The same voice of bogus puffery that attempted to argue with Socrates and Jesus is alive and well today. This voice rails against the same pervading providence that has spouted from the pens of poets, holy men, prophets, saints, mystics, monks, apostles and disciples since the dawn of literacy. There is a stark black and white to this phenomenon that correlates neatly to good and evil.

Socrates and Jesus were by their actions and life-styles inherently good men. They lived humble lives of poverty, doing nothing for their own personal gains. They were brilliant teachers of a universal wisdom that outshone anything in their world that passed for knowledge. Socrates attributed his envied brilliance to an omnipotent higher power. Jesus claimed kinship with this higher power (John 10:30). Both men were made to suffer the outrage and hatred of prestigious groups who held Socrates and Jesus as a threat to their social standing. Both men were put to death as punishment for teaching what they called the truth.

Death is seen as the ultimate defeat and surrender. How many times has one read the headline that another person “has lost his battle with cancer?” It sends the illogical message that organic life should fight against the natural inevitable. Such reasoning is not tenable. Yet the ego-driven human mind would put forth such an absurdity as desirable due to his fear of the unknown. Hence, in drinking the hemlock, Socrates was not giving up the fight inasmuch as he saw death as a fitting end to a life long-lived on principle.

For Jesus, death was a logical exit from the physical plane to which He descended to teach the Law of God. After the Lord’s departure, His followers published what they had witnessed and learned. Hence the four self-titled books of the New Testament, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.

Upon making a comparative study of the Christian Gospels and the arguments of Socrates, one sees a striking similitude. So much so, that a scholar is compelled to deduce that both texts stem from the same vein of wisdom. Such reasoning is consistent and in accordance with all guidance attributed to God Almighty throughout all time. It has a Signature. The same Signature, apparently, from which Socrates drew his brilliant method of cross-examination.

Unlike the Sophist who seeks to beguile, trick and dazzle his opponent with abstruse words, Socrates broadcast his clear, succinct talks in marketplace oratory. The Agora was likely in the center of town, a common place where the public milled about. Anyone was free to stop and listen to Socrates carrying on his vigorous, lucid debates with all comers. Note how Jesus Christ broadcast his pearls of Wisdom to the multitudes in the same way. Sermon on the Mount. Sermon on a fishing boat, cast off from the shore.

Socrates saw his death sentence as a way to stand firmly on his premise – much the same way that Jesus of Nazareth did by dying on a Roman cross. By their deaths as innocent men, both Jesus and Socrates gave humanity pause. They had nothing to lose and nothing to fear as both drew their brilliance from the Sovereign of the Universe. By their departures into the feared unknown, Socrates and Jesus became martyred leaders to their many advocates and devotees. These people would write texts on which a philosophy and religion are now plinthed respectively.

In the case of Socrates, he brazenly announced that his intelligence hailed from beyond the paltry realm of organic man. The human brain being a fallible organ, Socrates never claimed wisdom by his own right. He never took ownership of his genius but rather assigned it to God (The Almighty Allah). In so doing he riled the ego-centric ire of Athens.

Most men wanting to be known as wise attacked Socrates intellectually much to their surprise. Upon opening debate with Socrates in the Agora, many of these proud arguers learned that they knew less than they thought and thought more of themselves than they ought. Publicly humbled by their own ignorance, these men banded together against Socrates much in the way as the Jews did against Christ. They fabricated bogus charges against him and rallied the bloated egos of others of their kind to support them in a common cause.

This common cause was to make an example of Socrates. He could have escaped with his life by being run out of Athens into a sentenced exile. This would not have had the impact of his opting for the death sentence.

By logical deduction, Socrates knew that he was already an old man and could not expect to live that much longer anyway. Being a virtuous man, Socrates traveled light. His conscience weighed little. His keel was an even one unto death. His comfort carried him there and surpassed gracefully the harried, frantic, chess-like thoughts of man.

Let it speak for Socrates that despite the feverish slander of his enemies and their Sophists, the words of this great man prevail yet today. The schools of law employ his methods for smelting out the truth. That this is done in pursuit of justice should be a clarion-blast throughout all the land and time. Let it lend credence to the efficacy of virtue, especially since the court of law is supposed to be a place where justice is served.

Like the days of Socrates, there are still Sophists-for-hire who will argue the law, mixing truth with lies for a fee. Justice and truth require a Socrates to make them stand against this barrage of wily iniquity. It would be a plausible supposition to infer that Socrates had a mission on earth as he stated in his own defense – to be a gadfly unto erring man. His motive for sharing his knowledge was, unlike the Sophists, not to make money. Let that speak for him also.

Based on Plato’s Apology, Socrates attracted a group of inquisitive youths who sought his wisdom. Plato was among them. In this way a scholar can compare Plato and his contemporaries to the followers of Christ who would later write testimonies of what they heard and witnessed. This is piquant because for every assailant of virtue there stands an advocate to defend it. For every Pharisee there is a Peter the Rock. For every hubris-bloated Sophist there is a Plato.

Socrates was disgusted with the politics of his times as it was diseased with corruption. A mission thereby remains for him today. He is too soon gone away. Let those who thirst for justice and truth call him back. It would not only amuse him but his advocates to see more cross-examinations of pretenders to wisdom.

In the trial of Socrates one learns that men are predictable. It was foreseen by Socrates that once he publicly revealed someone’s pretense of knowledge that there would follow anger and hatred against him. He knew the risks of what he did but continued owing to a great propensity beyond himself. He attributed what he did to a superhuman, external intelligence – the same intelligence that Jesus claimed as God the Father.

To the free-thinker in pursuit of truth it might seem that Socrates was a gift to mankind from a higher place. The workings of his mind share the rank of saints and prophets. There is a kind of oracular brilliance to the words of Socrates that stands the test of time and place. What he taught cannot be bought. Such knowledge is not inherent to ego-centric man. It is priceless and universal.

In leaving this discussion of a great man, one is given pause by the grace with which Socrates accepted his death sentence. He had an internal voice that he called his “divine faculty.” It warned him of all the things that he should not do before he did them. Since this voice did not warn him to flee the death sentence then he calmly accepted dying as the next proper thing to do. Since this inner voice had helmed the steerage of his course throughout life correctly, he trusted it to do so unto death.

Sudden Salmonella

2010-08-31T02:05:00.000-07:00

In light of a new "food safety" bill designed to kill-off wholesome food production, I think it is a good time to publish a story that I submitted to one of my publishers in April 2009. It was about a similar bill to S.510 which is now at hand.

"In my American life as a peanut butter-eater, I have never heard of salmonella associated with peanuts. As recently as last month, according to employees at a local grocery store, there have been salmonella-peanut concerns.

It is my inference that this salmonella scare is a manipulation of industry to plant the seeds of fear in consumers the same way that 9/11 did about international terrorism. In the case of food poisoning, consumers are made paranoid about where the next deadly batch will turn up. Like 9/11, it only has to happen once to establish pretext for whatever freedom-raping law that the globalists want to pass next.

Once people are good and scared, they will submit to anything. By chopping off a few heads in a public place, you can wield a reign of terror over a whole nation. As demonstrated by the French, Bolshevik and Cuban revolutions, all you have to do is put some blood in the street and most people will do what you want.

Similarly in lesser scenarios, one can intimidate the consumer masses by tainting select distributions of their food supply. All it takes is a pinch of bio-terror in a vat of peanut butter. Then you let public opinion carry the rest. Have a similar taint show up in a bit of spinach and now you have good medium for cultivating fear about eating anything in America -- fertile loam for sinking deep the roots of a Communist Manifesto Bill like HR-875.

Bolshevik crop-seizures come to mind. They wanted to shut down independent farming because food was priceless in a Russian winter. It gave the Kulak independence from communist regime. Kulaks were the last hold-outs against the Bolshevik reign of terror in Russia and the Ukraine. They were finally conquered because their crops were seized and granaries burned. This had the same tactical effect as cutting the supply lines of your enemy. Starvation is a guaranteed strategy for crippling resistance of any kind. Ask the people of Gaza.

The recent salmonella scares are ways to snow Americans into thinking that organic, independently-farmed food is unwholesome. Baloney. Buy the food -- don't buy the ruse. Presently, major grocery stores are importing produce from Third World countries where sanitation and purity are no guarantee. Yet they are raking our farmers over the coals to comply with arbitrary fine print written to exasperate, confuse, demoralize, wear-down and deject our produce growers.

These directives are written to threaten and intimidate our food-producers with high fines and imprisonment for failure to comply with sadistically-rigid and unreasonable rules. These new rules are tortuous with run-on sentences and sub-paragraphs. The strategy of such text is inundation. There are rules upon rules and stipulations upon stipulations. The fine print goes on for miles.

I think of one whose team of percheron is silhouetted against fuchsia Southern Maryland dawn. He wears a black hat and suspenders. I would buy my seedlings and petunias from his family every spring. They birth and bury their own. Eschew electricity and MTV. No mind of theirs, nor house nor barn is a devil's workshop. Their berries are as sweet and pure as their daughters. I can't imagine not getting my seasonal produce from such people. What they raise from the earth is as clean and wholesome as their Christian families. They were meant to grow our food.

These new food-production rules were written to break the spirit of the American farmer -- someone whose honest work has long been the backbone and foundation of our country. "Professions," an English poet once wrote, "are lucrative to the inverse of their usefulness." The farmer earns a pittance for his labours while the movie-star and Freudian "therapist" make a fortune, for example.

The question to ask is why does it pay to spread the manure of Marxism while the producers of our vital yield are punished?"

Shark Fin Soup

2010-08-14T00:37:00.000-07:00

(** This story just ran in a national weekly. But the editing was so heavy that I did not recognize my own writing. They dumbed it down and ugly'ed it up. And withheld my photography. The editor inserted technical data that was incorrect and that I never wrote. Because of their blatant attack on my pen-hand and creepy dis-info, here is what I really wrote. Larded with pictures of what I wrote about.)

Shark Fin Soup

On the roof of our 2010 vehicle was mounted a small plastic shark fin. It was black and rose two and one half inches from its base. I liked everything about the truck except this curious gadget that looked like a prop from the Jetsons cartoon. It stuck out like a sore thumb and ruined the looks of our truck for certain. But that was only the tip of the iceberg.

After a couple of days I pried the gadget off with an oyster knife. It was easy to pop off with no damage to the roof -- save what was already done by the hole they drilled at the factory. The device was attached to three thick wires of different color: brown, black and blue.

I pulled the wires from the hole and cut them with pruning clippers. Easy as pie. Now I had a hole in the roof. Nothing a little duct tape didn’t fix until the epoxy.

Under good lighting I set about dismantling the sturdy gadget. For something so small and apparently plastic, it sure weighed a lot. So I was doubly curious to see what was inside this thing. Upon turning it over, I saw how nondescript it was. More breeze to my flame.

The underside was heavy metal with a small white sticker. It had a bar code, a long number and “Made In China” written on it. The cryptic trade name, “RecepTec” was listed below the bar code number. The base was riveted into the shark fin with one-way screws. They were machined-in deep with the kind of heads that few would have in a tool box. It struck me that whatever was inside had to be something they did not want us to know. The breeze on my flame kicked up a notch.

I was holding an oyster knife, my father-in-law’s all purpose miracle tool. My lip began to quiver like Peter O’Toole’s a few seconds before he yelled, “No prisoners!” I was cracking this nut and if it took a sledge hammer.

Because the fin was encased in battle armor and secured like CIA’s inner sanctum, it had to contain at least the glint of King Tut’s Tomb. So with my sturdy waterman tool I went to work. Leaning into each screw I turned the knife slowly and sure enough, out they came, one-by-one. And there came the glint of gold bearing the name of Laird Technologies.

Inside the shark fin was concealed what looks like a computer circuit board with two chips. Apparently somebody invested big money and computer programming in this little gadget. There was a silver satellite antenna jutting into the hollow fin compartment that works with the GPS (global positioning system) tracker in the vehicle.

In the case of our truck, we got the low-end options package. We just wanted horse power and a four-wheel drive. So it did not come with a GPS-navigator which is why most people would want a satellite antenna.

Despite the low-end options package, I noticed how our truck was equipped with an OnStar Network interface and satellite radio. The OnStar registration was rabidly pushed at the car dealer’s. So much so that a man got into the truck with my husband, reached over his head and began the registration process without asking if it was even desired.

Based on their website, Laird Technologies is the world leader in automotive smart antennas. They combine multiple radio frequency functions along with satellite tracking systems, telemetrics, available biometrics and audio interface by a discreetly-placed microphone somewhere in your car. (http://www.lairdtech.com/)

Once OnStar has your name and vehicle in their database, they can track your every move via satellite and cell phone tower. With a tiny microphone in your car, they can also eavesdrop at the click of a computer mouse. They can measure your body weight from the airbag device in the seats. This and the timbre of your voice can be used as biometrics.

The convenient pretexts for all this privacy invasion are OnStar roadside assistance (they dial 911 for you , but you can dial it just as easily), BlueTooth (you can get a headset for your cell phone and talk hands-free without BlueTooth, however), GPS that may not even come with your car, and Satellite radio.

Telemetrics is a more scary thing. It puts a computer in the driver’s seat and the driver at the mercy of a computer. Your car doors can now be locked and unlocked remotely. Via wireless interface, your car can speed up, slow down or be turned off. This can be done in override mode per OnStar’s theft-protection plan.

With Laird’s gadget on your roof, a car is wired for remote control.

Addendum: Neither http://www.acdelco.com/index.jsp nor the GM owner's manual address this gadget. AC Delco lists it simply as an antenna. No details about the part are given. A hush-hush device as an understatement. I think the question "why" is answered squarely by my photography.

The Oaks

2010-08-01T10:28:00.000-07:00

According to the lore of Theosophy, the flagship of the New Age, they call it a ray. Each soul operates under the auspices of a ray that emanates down from the Logos -- they say. The Greek term Logos in this context, means a governing force from whence all existence originates.

The literal translation of Logos means word. You might recall John 1:1, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God."

According to the books of New Age writers, there are seven rays that govern seven inherent dispositions. The one that concerns me here is the Blue Ray. The First Ray. That would be your coveted oak persona.

When you took that personality test in college (or at your corporate workplace during the "How to Be A Team-player" seminar), they categorized your disposition/worldview based on how you answered their questions. You were either a leader or a follower. Obsequious or dominant. Crisp or wishy-washy. Firm or malleable. Servile or regal. A herd beast or independent thinker.

This disposition is inborn/inherent/innate. They were ferreting out the George S. Pattons apparently, seeing as General Patton was used to describe the oak personality on the questionnaire that I filled out.

Oaks make the establishment nervous because they are charismatic. They can command an audience like John F. Kennedy or Adolf Hitler. They have the bearing, carriage and demeanor of a desert horse. Can hold an audience spellbound in the palm of their hand. Nobody looks away form a speaker who mesmerizes with eloquence and diaphragm. Oaks are natural leaders and dynamic public speakers.

At the end of the personality assessment, you probably learned that among you, there was one or less Patton types. And everybody's head snapped around to see who it was. Oaks are rare among men and unheard of among women.

All it takes is one to govern a province or command an army. Because two cooks in the kitchen is a recipe for disaster.

In my last entry on The Shockwave (http://shpearson.wordpress.com/2010/08/01/the-trees/) the concept of the "the oaks" is discussed from RUSH's song lyrics. Employing parable, I take my training from Jesus of Nazareth. He cast broad His pearls before a multitude so great -- that He had a boat pushed off from the shore so that His delivery could be farther spread and better heard. From the deck of a fishing boat the Lord issued the Word.

Despite the nullification of God's independent mind in the Buddhist sense, (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seven_rays#Metaphysics_of_the_seven_rays), His Law seems to be all that makes life worth living down here and beyond the mortal coil. Without it, we are rudderless and purposeless. Cast adrift. Loveless. Homeless.

The seer, holy man, mystic, yogi, shaman, and swami have had a peek beyond organic physics. So has the sorcerer. What do they say?

"Like attracts like" is the universal law that governs the Ghost World which permeates all (Ephesians 6:12). You won't get an argument from mystics like Robert Bruce about it. Or any of the New Age gang. There is a corresponding look, smell and feel to all sentiment in the spirit. The witches know it. And so do the Saints.

When God forbids witchcraft He forbids manipulation of the spiritual places for one's own selfish gain or for working evil deeds. It is a simple concept, the Law of God. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." If you follow the Golden Rule we get a better world. Sweet and simple. Anyone can understand it. Anyone can follow this rule. But few people do.

That's where the oaks come in. Emanating from God comes an oak -- A king, leader or potentate. Some righteous Godly sovereign who is in deference to God. One who does nothing for his vainglory, but for the love of his people.

A good sovereign has nothing to prove among men. He is already king. His fealty is only to God. Which serves God's end. Not the oak's will, but God's be done. That is the design if things are working right.

If people could govern themselves there would be no need for oaks. But man's will is fallible.

The difference between Saints and witches is that a witch says, "my will be done." And the Saint says, "Thy will be done."

Charles Webster Leadbeater, Alice Bailey and their metaphysicians can park their astral bodies on the side of the road to Damascus. They can travel to that point in the road where Saul the Pharisee got zapped by the Light, was knocked to the ground, and Jesus said, "Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?" Charles and Alice can witness the moment where Saul became Paul. (Acts of the Apostles, Chapter 9). How 'bout them apples, Alice?

St. Paul, Moses, Mohammad, John the Baptist, Socrates and Isaiah were oaks. Generals Jackson, Lee and Patton were oaks. John F. Kennedy, George Washington and Thomas Jefferson were oaks. Martin Luther and Father Charles Coughlin were oaks. By their fruits you knew them. As currently Pakistan, besieged by intrigue, lies and weather, knows her beloved Syed Zaid Zaman Hamid by his fruit.

The words in Mein Kampf read like they were written by an oak. What "history" is on the books about the author was written by the maples, cranked from their publishing houses and is purveyed in all maple media. Keep this in mind when reading about Adolf Hitler.

The oaks always have the same enemies. For the sake of parable, we employ RUSH's song about the trees. The maples are the bad guys. Whose ugly heads have reared throughout history. They were the same bunch on the receiving end of Moses' chastisement after he came back and found them worshipping Moloch (their fabricated golden calf god) to whom they sacrificed their newborn babies by tossing them into the fire. They beat drums during this ritual to drown-out the screams of their infants. These are their fruits.

Today the maples join hands across all oceans. They have purchased corporations whose technologies run and control civilised infrastructure world-wide. They pay your salaries. Reward your fealty. Punish your resistance. Purchase your politicians. And write your laws.

The Law that maples seek to trample under foot is the Law of the Oaks -- The Law of God.

Full circle? I give you Saint Paul of Christendom. He wrote most of the Books in the New Testament (many from prison). And started out in the world as a worst-case maple. He was a Christian-persecuting Pharisee. After God confronted him on that road to Damascus, Saul turned from maple to oak on a dime. And rose from the road, a Saint of God. There Saul became Paul. He has my whole heart. As does any man who turns from his maple ways to embrace the Law of God.

Boxes

2010-07-17T20:12:00.001-07:00

Someone asked, “If they can dive into the depths of thrashing North Atlantic and recover a flight data recorder, why have they failed to produce the ones from 9/11?”

Since the “neon-orange-red” flight data recorder is located in the tail section, built to withstand great impact and temperature, it should be recoverable. In the case of the Pentagon, we need not look for one, but the Pennsylvania crash site should have one for us.

Steel beams in the twin towers were rendered into lava by a chemical reaction. You can see it oozing from the wounded building as people leapt to their deaths to escape the heat. Thermite and thermate have been written as the compounds used to cut the steel girders by way of intense heat. A blacksmith shapes white-hot metals similarly, but the heat used here was magnified many times beyond that.

In the case of the World Trade Towers (1,2 and 7), thermate was used to melt the frames in a precise demolition. Only Towers One and Two were hit by aircraft which had nothing to do with thermate.

Since the clean-up crew was able to collect enough scrap metal to build a morale-boosting Navy ship (we are told), they may have been able to locate one or both of the flight data recorders. This I say because thermate compounds were inside the girders, still chewing on steel on the way down. Maybe the boxes survived, having been stout and heavy.

Thermate was applied strategically for demolition purposes, the ignition of which was done in concert. We all know what happened. Only a knuckle-dragging, medicated churl would believe the 9/11 Commission Report. That holds as much water as the schmutz they wrote about John Kennedy.

There is a field in Pennsylvania where they could not bury anything. This flight data recorder has to exist. Possibly there are people who saw what happened that were not foolhardy enough to report it. Were “bombs bursting in air” with a "rocket’s red glare?”

Did it give proof that our flag was involved? What pale flag was that? What colour is treason?

What might we hear on that flight recorder? What about the guys at the FAA? The control towers? Did somebody hear the pilots' desperate transmissions and do nothing? Say nothing? Report nothing? And they hung Mary Surratt?

What were those words? Can you guess? “Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. All systems are on override. I have no instrument control...”

There are words in a command language that can tell your computer “not to let you do something.” As a programmer you can write code to disable all kinds of “functionality” for a user. In the case of today’s commercial airliners, the user is a jet pilot. He is flying a computer with wings and a tail.

Based on a recent experience, geeks can disable and override just about anything they want on a computer. That is why the government’s computer security programs are frantic and front-burner.

The time has come to pressure our government to cough up the flight data recorder for Pennsylvania 9/11. You know they have it. And you know that the only reason they have not released what’s on it to the public is because you will hear the truth. There are few men staring death in the face who speak anything else.

Driveway Checkers

2010-07-04T01:48:00.000-07:00

On the morning of 1 July 2010, I happened to be standing by my car, armed with a camera. Sure enough, right on time, here comes the daily driveway checker. A helicopter.

They have to check the driveway because my car is old enough not to have any tracking systems (GPS, OnStar, built-in-the-dash cell phone, etc.). If my car is in the driveway, there is a good chance that I am in the house. They know that I suffer an aversion to bugged vehicles (shark-finned, satellite-monitored, cell tower-triangulated, microphones in the rear-view mirror or BMW's "super-tech" on the steering column -- 007 big time, chalk up another one for German engineering, you get the idea..., etc.).

I think that Sprint Network has informed them how I seldom turn on my ancient cell phone. Today's cell phones are hand-held computers. They inform on you constantly. Like a pocket-spy. All of your text and voice messages are recorded by the network. The GPS provision tracks your every move. The days have arrived where sneaking around behind your wife's back is not something you want to arrange on your cell phone. For virtuous people, this is a boon. The rest of you playaaz can wing it. But if you ever run for public office, you'll be their ideal candidate.

The local police rookies that they have previously assigned to stake-out posts at the entrance/exit to my neighborhood, suffer from telephoto burns. I have close-ups of those guys that my photography professor would be proud of. So that arrangement didn't "fly" very long.

Based on the questions from their investigator, they are concerned about other people with whom I may consort. What concerns them are communications that are not digital, traceable, trackable, recordable or bug-able. Other cars in the driveway would therefore be of interest to them.

They never know where I will go, when or why. My travels and activities concern them. So they have me followed if I go somewhere. And nervously check my driveway every few hours if I don't.

The stage was set for this while my spouse was in Iraq. A federal investigator tried twice to enter my house for a chat. He left his calling card wedged in the door. I called back and opted to answer his questions over the phone. If I don't let Mormon missionaries into the house, why would I let him? Good rule of thumb. So he asked me what mode of communication my spouse and I employed and how often we used it per a given span of time. He asked if I belonged to any social clubs or a church. He wanted to know what my hobbies were.

I mentioned in past entries how if I felt annoyed enough I would start publishing my photographs of these jokers. Here's a Cessna registered to the Department of Justice. Click on the photo. Check the N-Number on: http://registry.faa.gov/aircraftinquiry/NNum_Inquiry.aspx You remember them? They honcho'ed the gassing and burning of all those babies at Waco. Great bunch of folks. Janet Reno lives down here somewhere now in retirement. I should look her up and ask for an interview. I would love to hear her justification for the "justice" served that day. Can't have a loose cannon preaching the Gospel now can we.

On this day, however, (1 July 2010) I noticed how the chopper pilot apparently saw my long lens and fled. Because he burst into speed, arcing counter-clockwise. I panned and the camera nailed him. You gotta love a Nikon. Mr. whirly-bird earned himself top spot. (see first photo above)

But he's in good company. Here you go. Have a look at some of his peerage. This is a chopper registered to the Department of Homeland Security (the American Cheka). They have a little hornet's nest near Homestead Air Force Base and fly up to check on me often. You can see the N-Number without even clicking on the photo. And the little DHS spy in the window?

The government, it appears, has even stricken deals with my neighbors to keep them informed of my travels, routines and activities. Most people have their price. Especially these days. You should see my photo collection of locals and neighbors who follow me around in their cars. Even a mail man. Too bad they didn't learn to drive on mountain roads. They are no match for my pursuit when I decide to chase them with my camera. I have photos of all their license plates. And many of their faces. In a word: busted. I'll publish those later if I get annoyed enough. Stand by...

Surveillance gnats on parade. Here is Monroe County's Jailer on the wing. They have a big prison out on Key West where they stash people. I looked at the rap sheets and was astounded to learn over what trivial charges some of them are rotting in jail. Minor infractions, some of them. Here they are in a windowless dungeon, surrounded by "lifestyles of the rich and famous." Yup. I even get driveway checkers from Key West Sheriff's Office. Note the N-Number near the tail. Click on photo for enlargement.

One day they even sent this thing over. What the heck is it? Only PAXNAVAIR knows for sure. And they ain't talkin'. It has a shark look about it. Referring back to what I said about marine predator design.

Note the snazzy paint on this little prop-job. One day I drove all the way to the Gulf Coast, got out in a hotel parking lot and looked up to a familiar noise. Dam if it wasn't the same plane or his identical twin. I didn't get the N-Number so I can't prove it. But the paint-scheme is flashy and easy to remember. Most of these boring little planes are just white.

I thought I'd do some fact-checking. So I called the chopper dispatch office to where Mr. Top Spot's registration number led me. Her name is Ann-Marie and their office is way up in West Palm Beach. The South Florida Water Management District has every reason to need aircraft. A given. But what was this guy doing flying around my house?

His timing was noteworthy. There was a sinister-looking little aerosol jet going at it hot and heavy over our house at the time. I have taken pictures of him before, spraying his long stream of discharge.

He had the tell-tale white coat. That is so they can hide in the sky. A similar effect is demonstrated on the ventral side of hawks and ospreys. Note the same colour scheme on sharks and other marine predators.

White works equally well at night to blend an owl into the sky, for example, from the perspective of prey on the ground. The same principle applies to a white jet, muted, flying the night spray shift. In previous posts, it is why I called them Boeing night owls.

You will note a tactical kinship between apex predators and war planes. Such aircraft are an expression of Abaddon's perversion. Birds of prey hunt to feed. Fighter planes do not have an ecological niche. They are from hell. Grumman F6F.

This aircraft was the size of a tactical NBCRE-delivery jet. Small. Fast. Swept-wing. They got nervous about him when I called Patuxent River Naval Air Station (Naval Air Systems Command). Not a word. They stay nervous over there these days. That's where the test pilots are who fly the latest war birds. The ones that matter.

* note: NBCRE has been removed from Google's search engine. Web sites that discuss the term have been changed to Oriental-looking fonts that serve as encryption. They don't want you to know what NBCRE means. So I will tell you. NBCRE is a military acronym for "nuclear, biological, chemical, radiological and explosive."

Since he is so small, this jet does not serve for what they spray around here. Last year they dehydrated the monsoon both here and in India. Big tankers. Big job. Maybe he is flying drills for future operations.

I say NBCRE because that's what I would use him for if I was planning the damage. He can easily catapult from carriers. Be somewhere fast and spray nerve gas, blood agents, poison flue dust or a wide variety of disease mists. He could also drop bombs that burst in the air and scatter depleted uranium powder/dust (what "ready.gov" calls a dirty bomb).

One of these little jets can rain hell from the sky. From his air-shows around here, I have seen demonstrations of his capabilities. He could hit and run before anybody knew what hit them.

Seeing as how they are trying to frame Pakistan for "acts of terrorism," a jet like this could dump his payload anywhere and have it pass for exactly that. Our lying media would scream Pakistan or some other Muslim country in Israel's cross-hairs. Just like they did with 9/11. Then of course the predictable reaction would be more American outrage and anger which only serves to fan the flames of "wars and rumours of wars."

Their express aim in the blame-game. Like their botched attempt to sink the USS LIBERTY in 1967 and blame it on Egypt. Same tack. Same m.o. False flag, America. Wake the flock up.

As for misty pathogens, the parade of CDC's petri dishes is a long one indeed. And you thought they were just about disease control and prevention? Based on my studies of their organisational charts, web sites and manuals -- they also have a dark side. They have apparently absorbed the biological warfare department. The CDC is where those dirty dogs are hiding out. Fort Detrick has earned a stigma, so they had to move their goodies elsewhere. They ought to rename the joint to "Center for Disease Cultivation."

Note: according to military training manuals for corpsmen and medics, 100% of biological warfare is ideally "delivered" via aerosols and kills in six days or less. As a side-note, they wrote, "Biological warfare agents have been delivered by covert injection." (Chapter 1, Section 1-2, Subparagraph e., Treatment of Biological Warfare Agent Casualties Field Manual, Army/Navy/Air Force/Marines, published 17 July 2000). This thing reads like a veritable "how-to." They go into great detail of exactly how this kind of dirt is done. http://www.med.navy.mil/directives/Pub/5042.pdf

In a nutshell, the government is nervous. And more nervous still are their wire-pullers. They are frantically trying to bribe their way into a position of control over an angering multitude. One that out-numbers them by the staggering millions. Put yourself in their place. What would you do?

There seems to be a need for disease. And this little jet is just the delivery tool. Let's call it a potential weapon of mass destruction. And your tax dollars at work -- for now. I just read in the news about plans to dip deeper into your retirement savings to fund their war machine. Much like what happened in the past when economies did what ours is doing now (1920's and 1930's).

I noticed how last year what appeared to be cloud dehydration over Pakistan. Since the Nasty Nexus works as a team, this would have served to help India in her campaign to dam-up rivers and withhold water from Pakistan. Part of our government's "disrupt and dismantle" campaign is to wreak all manner of havoc in Pakistan via every dirty trick in their bag (drone bombings, so-called terrorism, power cuts, economic sabotage, withholding water, convenient droughts... then massive flooding during the rainy season. Magnified of course by India opening the "flood" gates to all their dams in Kashmir--strategically built for that purpose). The war colleges have published mega-load white papers on the subject. I of course have read them. And know how they work it. From the "global" news, they appear to be working it now.

I knew they were nervous about this little jet, because they had a P3 Orion making the rounds at the same time. P3 got binked again. Smile for the camera. They sure have us on 24/7 web cam these days. The only place they don't have cameras rolling is during preacher killings, nursing home massacres and Muslim prison torture. How convenient.

The water management district's Anne-Marie firmly told me that all her pilots were accounted for that day and none of them had been in the area that I described. She explained that they all had GPS trackers on them and she could see them on her screen.

Surely the FAA would not post a bogus record. Would they?

When I asked Ann-Marie if some of her choppers were out on loan she firmly told me no. Oh for the unsolved mysteries. How deep and still is the water, Mr. Water Management District? Is it as deep as the records at the FAA? They were nervous enough about them to remove their N-Number Look-Up page for a while and then nervous enough to put it back on their web site. Can we call that waffling?

I know the flying schedule of the aerosol tankers and their surveillance teams. And ask questions like: Why would they need/want surveillance teams? Surveillance for what? Against whom? Why are they concerned about who sees them doing what they do?

This chopper was right on time for the usual daily surveillance fly-by's and buzz-jobs. That's only from my end. What Ann-Marie said supports my thoughts, however. Ones that are swayed by things that have happened in the past. Like the Department of Homeland Security's U.S. Coast Guard chopper spot-lighting our bedroom windows and checking the driveway at two in the morning. Positive I.D. on that one. I was wide awake under a tree in the back yard -- waiting for him. It's not like you couldn't hear him coming. Or see him coming, strobes illuminating danger-orange and white. Then there were the Cessna's circling our house for hours whose numbers registered to the Deptartment of Justice and Monroe County Sheriff's Office. Little things like that.

There is motive for bogus N-Numbers if you are flying DHS surveillance. Government snoop types seek to be covert. The idea is to watch people when they don't know they are being watched. No-name, no-speak, sunglasses and limo tint. A spy is secretive. He uses code words, encryption, feints, ruses and camouflage. Gives a left turn signal and then turns right.

Adding weight to my theory is that after I spoke to Ann-Marie and her media relations person, the driveway checkers went on stand-down. Haven't seen them since. What does it mean?

Note: Blogspot editing software has disabled my link-posting. So you will have to copy/paste addresses into your URL windows. URL is another acronym that means Uniform Resource Locator. More "inside-speak" from another industry who doesn't want you to know what they are talking about. Keep in mind that government and their industrial partners work very hard to make their language difficult for you to understand.

I gottum down. But they are workable. Everybody is.

Ever seen a man at the bitter end of his life? Under glaring fluorescent lights, hooked up to machines? He's in a disparaging gown tied at the back with strings. The medicals who administer to his "end of life" needs are detached, clinical, reptilian. They are a product of his design and steerage. Now he's tasting some of his own medicine. And getting the medical care that he so richly deserves.

You know this man? Among the richest in the world but nobody wants to know him now. They're afraid they might catch what he's got. This mortality for which he could purchase no cure. None of his fair-weather sycophants care to flatter him now. The food-taster has flown the coop. Digestion shut-down days ago. No more worrying about poisoned lobster bisque. No more energy to lord over a world of exploited mill horses. Now it's just you and the Great Wide Open. You ready?

There is nobody I hate. And nobody I'm giving up on. Inside every bad person there is a Scrooge on Christmas Eve. We all hit it sooner or later. Better sooner than later. And better late than never. http://shpearson.wordpress.com/

From Iraq w/Love

2010-06-27T13:59:00.000-07:00

This published in a national weekly last year, but it wants more exposure.

My husband, filled with Christian charity, sent me a photograph from Iraq that was supposed to make me feel good inside. Since his long absence making war on behalf of Israel, he has been piloting home-front relations via florists, war-fighting logo t-shirts and many "morale-boosting" photographs of the troops I am expected to support.

Among these photographs can be found one of him cleaning a pistol while couching in one of Saddam Hussein's bombed-out palaces. The photo was made for me in keeping with the military's "ready to fight but mentally right" campaign.

They encourage a happy-go-lucky attitude in what they call "our troops" and foster the same in their wives via Stateside wife support groups. Uncle Sam wants to make sure that our creek never runs too deep by having distractions, social activities and "little jobs" to keep us busy and content.

In this photo my husband sat amid the rubble of air-strikes in what used to be an opulent chair. To me there was something dour about the photograph -- as disemboweling and grim as the ruins of Dresden and Hiroshima.

When he sent me a photo of his Christian Bible study group posing with their humanitarian mental hygiene, it did not elicit the hoped-for applause. Instead I saw the photo as a taunting mockery against Israel's victims via unwitting military Christians.

These Christians in uniform did not seem to know that they have been pitted against Muslims on behalf of Israel. Here was a fighting force in a country they had invaded on behalf of bullying Israel -- posing with improvised, low-budget wheelchairs they were encouraged to make for children who have been crippled by war.
The wheelchair makers were told that their legless recipients are victims of improvised explosive devices that are the mainstay of local warring Muslim factions. Do they expect us to believe that? Who would shoot himself in the foot by expending resources and energy fighting his own countrymen while being invaded by a hostile, foreign army on behalf of Islam's greatest enemy? It's like Baitullah Mehsud's death. I will have to put my finger in his wounds to believe it. Show me the DNA, Mr. Forensics.

The last thing we need is more of the Wizard's propaganda. The words used by President Obama shed light on an insidious undercurrent at work in the Middle East, "...disrupt and dismantle." Before one conquers, one seeks to divide.

In the Punjab and Pakistan, for example, power outages are presently being used to torture and harass civilians. This creates internal strife and detracts from a country's unity -- much like the drone strikes that pretended to go after Baitullah Mehsud for so long, while killing and maiming non-combatant civilians.

These insulting wheelchairs seem to be fostered by the same regime who writes anti-Muslim propaganda on the Wizard's Wikipedia. Of the strategically-fortuitous power outages in Pakistan, the Wikipedia writes " Pakistani politicians are known to be congenital liars," and how no relief is in sight for Pakistanis due to the "hopelessness and incapability of successive administrations in Pakistan." It is obvious who is writing for the Wikipedia -- pots calling the kettle black who are worried about Pakistani nukes. The same bunch who seeks to ban guns in America for the same reason.

So when I saw these cheaply-made wheelchairs with hard plastic seats, it broke my heart that a regime who spends billions on making war for Israel can do no better than this for Islam's little victims. Shame on the war department for how they spend our money.

Gargoyles Unite

2010-06-24T15:49:00.000-07:00

Shortly after publishing my exposé on MicroSoft's Cyber Police State, all manner of harpies swooped down on my computer. They diseased software with new venom. Everything on my computer was attacked. It was a tidal wave of remote control, forced programs and override.

One day a "public folder" appeared at the bottom of my computer screen. It could not be deleted. I was uncertain of it's function but deduced that it may have been a remote access portal to my c: drive.

While this was happening I thought about how many cars and aircraft have computers in them now. Aircraft can be flown by computers and GPS navigation systems. If they can do what they did to my computer via remote control, then they can hi-jack a plane at 33,000 feet and do whatever they want with it.

They shoot missiles into the houses of sleeping people in Pakistan from remote control drones. It is plausible to think, thereby, that this is how 9/11 happened. They could have done it via remote control override.

OnStar and BMW Assist, for example, can take remote control of a stolen car. They can decelerate and stop the engine with software that overrides the driver's manual controls. Since aircraft can be flown by computers, how much of a stretch is it to commandeer a jet via computer interface? Casts 9/11 in a new light, doesn't it?

Back to the harpies. It was like they convened a think-tank of psychiatrists, optometrists and software engineers to come up with the most damage. How can they peck thee? Let me count the ways.

Google, Firefox and AOL got microscopic fonts all of a sudden. MicroSoft’s mouse began clicking places on its own. The cursor jumped all over the page to random places.

America Online and other browsers sent (apparently) tailor-made messages designed to insult, taunt and harass. Google ads was in on the fun. Ad hominem that is. There were tailor made ads galore. The venom had a signature stench.

Sprint cell phone company was in on the act. Their network was making calls in my name to people I never called. These people would call my cell phone and ask why I was calling them.

My Sprint cell phone out-going log was having phone numbers deleted from the list. There is reason to believe that this was happening to incoming calls also.

Sprint cell phone company had designed software that sent me bogus messages on my cell phone. One message said that my battery was low after a few minutes of cell phone usage. I would get annoying beeps and bogus messages. But what Sprint Network could not have known is that a friend from Sprint had recently given me a new cell phone battery.

AOL had designed a new colour palette expressly for me. It looked like they were advised by their optometrist. All the colours were pastels -- worthless for highlighting text. Shades of castrated warm and cool. Nothing hot and cold. Like a tiger whose teeth and claws had been removed.

AOL, AT&T, Firefox and Explorer were rife with bogus warning caveats, pop-ups and “helpful” reminders. They inundated me with annoying, crowding, animated, distracting, and insulting advertisements.

A web site that I used for relaxation had all my favourite video clips removed.

My Sprint cell phone contained threatening prank voice mail messages along with insulting, harassment-style text messages.

The cyber-harpies are not that far removed from the aviation ones I suppose. I have already listed some of the buzz-jobs I’ve been getting around here. C-130’s and P3 Orions for starters. Unmanned aerial vehicles, hang gliders, Cessna’s, choppers and prop-jobs ad nauseam. Harpies unite.

Japan's Nikon Corporation sent me a 60-day free trial of their latest photo editing software. Apparently MicroSoft overshadowed this with a tailor-made mockery of their own. They snuck it onto my computer via their “free automatic downloads" port. When I tried to access the Nikon software on my computer, I would get detoured to MicroSoft's “mockery” version. It was of course worthless and ridiculous. But they only had a few days to laugh about it.

I noticed other web sites with similar re-routes and detours. My brother’s USMC web site, for example, 1stmarines.org, is such a one. While using MicroSoft computers I would get re-directed to a fabricated decoy site that I felt was not authentic. It had lots of links to “donation collection” sites that I feel are tied to Israeli interests.

My experience with MicroSoft products and computers has prompted a veer into a new direction: Macintosh. With Steve Jobs’ Network, you no longer have a need for Norton’s Rottweiler to protect you from “Burn this virus like hell” -- from Amsterdam with love. Norton stopped ‘um cold. What protects your attackers also protects you. Dam that Norton. Gotta love the Hague. But now I love my Macintosh. Get some.

My recent attacks from these bridge trolls means that I must be doing something right. Long live Nikon! They make great cameras and fearsome lenses. Sixty-day free trial of their latest photo editor is available on capturenx.com. Get some! Don’t swallow that dumbed-down version from Bill Gates. It only lets you see pictures at 33% resolution. It’s part of the MicroSoft photography-killer campaign. Freelance photo-journalists are freaking out the American Cheka.

In conclusion, here is a list of the companies that locked arms with MicroSoft in a concerted siege against my computer, photography and cell phone:

Sprint

AT&T

AOL

MicroSoft

Google

Firefox

Wordpress editing software corrupted

Blogspot editing software corrupted

Lost Boys

2010-06-11T05:13:00.000-07:00

The psychology of Apollyon only works on the ego-centric. His shadow-play rattles a man whose self-worth is tied to the size of his boat. The rank on his coat.  A car. A bridge too far.

The ego-centric can be controlled by their worldly desires and self-worship.  They are ruled by others of their kind who have more money. Such men can purchase the smiles of mercenary women.  And buy the business-end of mercenary armies.

The ego has been demonized in the Third World East for centuries, yet is exploited in the West where man is led by the nose with it. I am learning today's application of this concept. Some of the herd you want to be ego'less. And some of them you want to steer by their egos. Depends on what kind of herd you're talking about and what kind of use you have for them.

The new god is called Existence, Universe, Cosmos, Logos. Seekers are told that ego is spiritually-crippling. That it will thwart their path to enlightenment. Their leaders, lecturers, masters and teachers tell them that they are part of a cosmic ocean. A drop that will return to the main. Part of a larger whole. They are all a piece of the pie in the sky. Where nobody makes the rules. Because there aren't any. There is no right or wrong. No honour or dishonour. Life is purposeless.

How convenient.  A useful schpeal for dismantling morality-based societies. Just tell them that they are God and anything goes. There will be no hell to pay for anything they do because sin does not exist and life has no purpose anyway. But don't forget to tell them that death has "the sting of a thousand scorpions." How else have them dread and fear it? How else manipulate the masses during this purposeless life of theirs? "O' death where is thy sting?"

According to the Lost Boys, it's right here. Notice that Messrs. Rockefeller and Rothschild appear to be concerned about "I, me and mine." What dwindling pristine rill do they not covet? Could they be the ones bank-rolling today's blanket spirituality?  Would it behoove them in managing their enslaved multitudes? Should their maxim be, "Do as I say, not as I do?"

Should one practice what one preaches? I have read that a leader is respected most who leads from the front and by example. One who shouts from the saddle and the diaphragm, "Follow me!"  Is beloved of his men like one who casts broad his seed in a whisper, "Do as I do."

Today on every campus, in every city, at every turn there pervades a common mantra. It adheres so rigidly to the same stripe that it could be a company logo. Every counselor uses the same lecture and gives the same advice. Every organisation, institution, foundation, bureaucracy and corporation adheres to it. The buzz-word is compliance.

Case-in-point: British Petroleum.

The Wizard's Big Nebula is as substantial as his Big Bang. A story you tell "the people" to lead them to the cliff's edge. Like the concept put forth in M. C. Piper's book, The Judas Goats. Somebody you trust promises you the moon -- so you follow him.

Enlightenment these days is a popular word used by corporate lecturers. They never put too fine a point on it. Who tells you what it is or what it means? The Wizard rather dangles it before his hopeful wagon-horse.

The Wizard-funded, Wizard-supported one world spirituality: the black void of Abaddon, gaping maw, broad path, sucking black hole, the ruse colossal, the righteous road -- to nowhere.

The New Slavery

2010-06-10T12:25:00.000-07:00

Driving into the country I passed a church that sums up today's loose, tepid grip. On their announcement board were the words, "With open minds and open hearts." As if announcing their fealty to Abaddon's New Church Order. Open to anything. Anchored in nothing.

I wonder if Abaddon's (Revelation 9:11) gullible void knows who is picking their beans?

Passing centrist central, I drove by what looked like slaves working in the fields. Two school buses were parked amid a sea of beans. They had been bused out there like so much human cargo to labour in the fields. I asked the nearest girl in Spanish how much they paid her an hour to do this work. She answered, "No se," meaning that she did not know.

The workers were all of a similar stature, skin tone and purity of breed. They looked like they came from an equatorial place or rainforest. The girl I spoke with seemed fearful of me. She bore the expression of culture shock given to new arrivals.

A local woman told me how she thought it was cruel how they treated these people. She said they were constantly threatened with deportation. So one is compelled to ask, how much are they paying these people an hour?

Not long ago I found a flyer wedged in my door. It offered trash can cleaning services. Never heard of those before. Have you? Since when has this kind of thing been offered -- and for dirt cheap? Since when did we last see slave labour in this country? I drove to this advertisement's business office. It was not easy to find. The man there nearly came out of his skin when I asked for a job application. He either could not or would not produce one. He was visibly disturbed, rose from his desk and told me to leave his office.

Perhaps his cheap labour force comes from the same "horn of plenty" as those I saw slaving in the fields,
http://www.trashcancleanersusa.com/

Making Sport of Mother's Tears

2010-06-04T17:34:00.000-07:00

How dare they mock our bereft solemnity? How dare they make sport of mother's tears? How dare they cheapen our bereavement? How dare they sprinkle salt into the wounds they have inflicted and laugh about it in print? How dare they make light of our young widows on Memorial Day? These sardonic vultures who call themselves journalists: http://www.politicsdaily.com/2010/05/29/on-memorial-day-remember-the-mothers-children-wives-and-lover/?icid=mainhtmlws-main-ndl1link3http%3A%2F%Fwww.politicsdaily.com%2F2010%2F05%2F29%2Fon-memorial-day-remember-the-mothers-children-wives-and-lover%2F

Nuke Labs and Other Diseases

2010-05-28T17:46:00.000-07:00

Ah yes the nuke lab. A doughnut under ground where stilted geeks stand around, pontificating about the origins of the universe. The "big bang" they call it. For sure. The only big bang I envision is the one they are working on by perverting God's design -- one so far beyond their ken, they haven't scratched the surface.

They tease apart the atom, flirting with disaster. Three Mile Island, Chernobyl, Nagasaki, truckin' around nuclear waste at three in the morning, Gulf War Syndrome, birth dee-fects, galloping breast cancer... Radiation has everything to do with it, you hubris-infested bozo's.

If "nuclear" wasn't a dirty word, then why do they call it "particle physics?" Particle is a scientific buzz-word to deflect "non-technical" curiosity. Just like those caveats and disclaimers atop "scientific and technical" Wikipedia articles, like "This article does not cite any references or sources. Please help improve this article by adding citations to reliable sources. Unsourced material may be challenged and removed. (November 2008)" ---- Who is expected to believe that? If you see that line of baloney, you found yourself a good article. Read it.

Particles are the dissected parts of an atom. Pure and simple. I don't care how many new words they throw into the mix to confuse people. What God designed is in stone. Man can re-label and pervert it for a time, but only for a time. For proof all I need to do is look at the nuclear engineer who wrote this text book. His photo is on the back. It looks like his time's about up. I wonder how much scientific thought he has devoted to what happens next.

And how the human animal really works. According to this anatomy text, they haven't scratched the surface of that either. They have made viciously-guarded observations of diseases and their symptoms. Why so secretive, Mr. White Coat? Shouldn't you share what you know when everybody has to walk around in the same organism? Why not write and speak the language of a people so they can understand you? Instead of some coded-lengo-jargon esoterica? Are you out to help somebody? Do you giva dam? Do you fear your trillionaire overlords and their power to smear your reputation? Do you secretly admire the guts of Andrew Wakefield?

The human body has a built-in wisdom to repair itself that dazzles Mr. White Coat. There is marvelous intelligence in the body. It responds in leaps and bounds to a little kindness. Clean air. Wholesome fare. Vigorous exercise. How much of that do they push at the doctor's office along with their synthetic hormones, sleeping pills, anti-depressants, blood-pressure and cholesterol drugs? Why so many pills, Doc? How many of those do you take? How many do you push on your wife and daughter to alter their hormones?

Did you ever follow-up on why that cruise ship passenger suddenly came down with flesh-eating bacteria in February 2009? Raymond Evans, 58, tripped and hurt his knee while walking around the ship. So he goes to the ship's doctor and gets an injection. His body suddenly turns a bunch of storm-cloud colours and he's dead in a week of septic shock? What misery. Who had the watch that day? Can I get an interview?

It makes you wonder what kind of Trojan Horse they can slip into your drains. What is in a pill? http://www.snopes.com/horrors/poison/tylenol.asp , http://pubs.acs.org/doi/abs/10.1021/ac00267a003
What's in the injection? Can you tell by looking? Who's name is on the drug company's label? What do you know about him? Why don't you make it your business to find out before bearing your throat to his wares.

Now everything comes with a so-called safety seal. However, any citrus fruit or melon lends itself to a covert injection in grocery stores. What happened in Chicago I think was just another of the Wizard's ploys to turn the herd. Keep them fearful and wide open to "his protection." Because who would think that the engine in charge of keeping the order, keeping the peace and protecting the public could also be the one who slips poison into Tylenol bottles?

Anything that was invented accidentally like X-radiation and NutraSweet should be regarded suspiciously. But instead they were both marketed from the get-go. X-Rays were frying people right and left before they realised what ionizing radiation could do. How stupid is that? They were getting cancer from it (and still do). They don't tell you that at the doctor's office though. There is too much money to be made. They don't let you see your medical record either. Ask them, "why is that?"

The medical mafia pushes mammograms like crazy. Do you think it's because they are concerned about how long your menopausal Aunt will live in an over-populated world? Mammograms are just cancer-cultivating x-rays of painfully-flattened breasts. There are too many milk-ducts anyway to see pea-sized tumours. Much of medical practice is fear-mongering and fishing for disease. If you can't find any, you can always make some with enough radiation.

X-rays are a medical paradox. They cause cell damage and cell mutation. Such radiation is accumulative. When the mutated cells start making copies of themselves you have cancer. If it happens in a vital organ, you have six (or so) months.

Which brings me back to the woe department. X-radiation is invisible and painless. Think of the possibilities from a low-orbit platform. Nukes -- they aren't just for bombs anymore. So many weapons. So little time.

Like the WWI-schemer who jumped up from the dinner party and exclaimed, "Gentlemen! We have war!" The cancer doctors are all about cancer. Disease is their business. And business is good. Long live the mammogram. Because it sure helps kill-off women who are no longer nubile. And who wants those around? Take an anonymous poll and find out. A woman is a commodity from age 13 - 35 (give or take). Unmolested by radiation and poison, she could live to be 95.

Why do you think they are mega-dosing travelers with x-radiation at all the airports now? They even have x-ray booths. It has nothing to do with terrorism or pistol-packin' mommas. That's just a pretext for dosing people with radiation. But why?

Radiation sometimes causes cancer. Why do you think the x-ray technicians stand behind protective walls? Because x-radiation is harmless?

Based on my studies, I feel that anybody who gets a mammogram is falling for a racket that lines the pockets of Porsche drivers. Live till you die. And live abundantly like Jesus said we should do (John 10:10). But don't let the medical industry disease you with radiation. Ask a cancer doctor why they only recommend mammograms for women who are over 40.

Don't support the nuclear industry. They are meddling with God's creation. Think of them as a little boy who is poking around in the light socket -- with a bobby pin.

Don't get mammograms or worry about your mammary glands. If you want to worry about something, worry about your eternal Soul. And about breaking the Law of the Master Engineer who designed it.

The Cook

2010-05-16T05:41:00.000-07:00

Remember the heinous carrot-top who worked in the widower's kitchen? She had the job of cooking for a herd of kids left by her employer's fecund wife. This movie, Nanny McPhee, was a fairy tale with a few barbs.

It lampooned certain personality types and walks of life. Perhaps it is the Wizard's penchant for poking fun at his servants, victims, patsies, dupes, stooges and sycophants. In this movie, he couldn't resist a few jeers. But count on him to glorify witchcraft across the board.

Amid the charming bits, were leaks from the Wizard's mind. His screen writers are plugged into him. They bring his sentiments to art. Their movies expose the workings of their father's mind.

Let me explain. The Cook in Nanny McPhee is a blanket caricature of the enlisted military mind. Her creek doesn't run too deep and she is marinated in membership pride. So much so, it is mentally-crippling. Dam-near blinding. One can lead such people easily by the nose.

The Cook's one claim to fame is her stint in the ranks. Boot-camp brainwashing did a great job on her. She is exactly what they are aiming for. The express horse for the Wizard's harness. Someone who will focus on their job without asking too many questions or trying to analyse things. A trusting soul who does not project into the future (Eckhart Tolle: The Power of Now). A follower who fears authority and does exactly what he's told. Someone who can be molded into the system easily. A loyal servant who takes orders and toes the line. A person who will "soldier on" in the harshest of environments, ready to die for his imperium. Easily contented, duped and led. Long-suffering, gullible, wide-eyed. A perfect beast of burden.

The Cook snaps to attention upon being reminded of her past military service. Her character then gives us a stark vista into the mind of her designer. He presents this caricature to flaunt what he thinks about the expendable "troops" under his control. How they are simple brutes, easily manipulated -- buffoons in uniform who march to his drum beat. He instills them with a sense of pride designed by his sociologists.

It's a kind of "school tie," if you will. Like those rings I saw at the base exchange after boot camp. They were made by the same company who makes class rings for high school and college students. The ring looked in all ways like a class ring, save it had the branch of service written on the top and sides. Designed to give one a sense of belonging and cast in affordable metal.

So the Cook gets misty-eyed remembering her military service. Suddenly she puffs with pride like a first-time hen parading her chicks in the barn yard. "Look at me! I used to be in the Army." Well whattaya know...

What came as an insult to me, when the Cook snapped to attention, was the blatant mockery that this screen writer made of my military service. How crisp, ironed shirts and straight gig-lines were, in one fell swoop, relegated to the rubbish heap. That this is what the Nasty Nexus "really thought of us." A herd of expendable, simple-minded brutes. Give them a few shiny buckles, stripes and badges -- and they'll march off any cliff you point to. Boot camp is hypnosis.

Which brings me back to Jeremy Boorda. Didn't he also start out in "This Man's Navy" as an E-1? I do believe so. He enlisted right out of high school like many of us. Got the full-on mind control in boot camp. Got yelled at. Humiliated. Intimidated. Injected with military bearing juice like the rest of us. And ends up as the Chief of Naval Operations right in time for Bosnia. If I had to speak for my Navy I'd say we loved him. He was well-regarded. Then suddenly discarded.

Anybody wanna tackle that one? Anyone? Well, here's what I think. If you buck the system it can cost you. Boorda was top Navy dog during a dicey time in our military history. I'm gonna let it go at that -- for now.

And sum this up with the military mind of Josh Stieber. In Iraq he was ordered to spray bullets in the direction of non-combatant children. He refused and got re-assigned to a non-combatant position.

Stieber puts an end to the Nanny McPhee caricature. Here is a man who clearly did his own thinking. He drew the line. And refused an order based on his moral compass. This elevates him to a rank that outshines today's Brass.

The Pentagon Brass march to the war-drums of the Wizard. Yet they hoodwink young men like Josh Stieber into killing and dying for them. They get their troops to march through mine-fields of "improvised explosive devices" attributed to al-Easter Bunny-the-terrorist whom we have yet to meet.

In the mean time the Brass gives orders for our guys to spray bullets at non-combatants and, according to Stieber, marches them around boot camp singing cadence about killing women and children.

Time for new Brass. I'm sure Jeremy Boorda would agree.

Nasty Nexus

2010-05-13T18:52:00.000-07:00

It's amusing to see where my blog entries will show up on the web. I just saw one listed on Sott.net. They read to me like one of the Nasty Nexus' watch-dog sites where they gather-up news articles, blog entries and other writing. I noticed how each article was flagged with a small categorical icon. Perhaps they think that is covert.

The Nasty Nexus have their fingers into everything. Yeah, I clump 'um all together. They are in a network, supporting each other and sharing information. They have been about their father's business for centuries. If I wasn't in their sights what kind of writer would I be? http://ftp5.members.downloads.bleachworld.com/articles/show/207383-The-War-on-Terror-Kid-Nabbing-Friendly-Fire-and-Thugs-for-Hire

I noticed how the Sott.net gang wrote a new headline for my article and paired it with a disturbing photograph. They cut and pasted certain words from my blog into the headline out of context. This implied a new meaning. Their arrangement of my words and their photo send a message to the reader that I did not intend. That most readers scan headlines and some of the first paragraph is what they are banking on. They want to cast what I wrote in a new light.

Smearing, framing and stigmatising has ever been the speciality of the Nasty Nexus. Look what they did to Jesus of Nazareth, Joseph McCarthy and Ezra Pound. Let's not leave out the curious case of Chief of Naval Operations Jeremy Boorda. The Admiral was smeared posthumously in the press. Who did he piss off to have them assassinate his character after his unlikely suicide? I bet they won't let you see the coroner's report or ballistics on that one any time soon.

Upon further perusal, one finds that Sott.net has a twang. Their saucy headlines and illustrations make sport of tragedy, disaster and people without arms. Even if the text they imported has a different slant, few people read it all. So the headlines tell whatever story they want, missing no opportunity to lampoon Jesus Christ or His Church of course.

Throughout their site one is haunted by visages of men who were murdered by the Nasty Nexus in the past. John F. Kennedy and Alexander Litvinenko are two of their claims to fame. Don't you find it odd how they picked-off John Kennedy but are letting Victor Ostrovsky run around loose? It gives me pause, seeing as they sent a pre-need casket to the family of that Hamas guy they snuffed. They were bragging about it in all media, brandishing surveillance footage of their assassins.

They even poke fun at the recent oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. Here is one of the quotes from an article listed under sott.net's Don't Panic! Lighten Up! section, "One oil rig goes down and we're going to be rolling in dough," Mr. Tourre wrote in one email. "Suck it, fishies and birdies!" How's that for context?

You can't believe everything you read. Especially not the headlines banged-out by the Nasty Nexus hacks. They delight in jeering at misfortunes and "ordeals" of the working class. "In other news," I read a story today about how the Louisiana parishes are hard hit by the oil spill. The whole story was a mockery. Just like the ones I read about Hurricane Katrina victims and those in Haiti's recent earthquake. All a big joke to the Nasty Nexus whose front-burner project these days is how to make and break the weather.

Canoe

2010-05-01T19:37:00.000-07:00

Corporate and government web sites camouflage things. Like who they are, where they are, and what they do. They use evasive, wearying verbiage. Their URL addresses and links are often nebulous and cryptic.

Sometimes they use decoy suffixes to mislead people into thinking that a web site is not affiliated with the government. For example, they will use ".edu" to suggest a college web site when in fact it is not a college web site. This seems to be done for ease of access, indoctrination and training purposes. The address is falsely-labeled. But sends the message to me that since the government is doing it, they can get away with it. Makes you wonder what else they can get away with -- doesn't it?

Their descriptions and explanations are tiresome'ly-worded so that ordinary people will not glean knowledge from it. These military/industrial "Borg" dodge investigation like a running back dodges a tackle.

Justice is not just. Law is diseased. Those who write and enforce the law are immune to it. Good thing that man's law is volatile, limited and subject to revision. Corruption hangs over cities like miasma over a battlefield.

To my experience, government and corporate officials often side-step the light of day. They burrow and hide in their bureaucracies. They seem to have a method for dealing with the public: Don't answer the phone. If you have to answer the phone, deny it. Ignore what you can. Put them on eternal hold. Make it as hard as possible for them to ferret out the truth. Give them a torpedo attitude and scratchy elevator music instead. Everything is a secret all the time and the public is not to know about it. If the question has too fine a point, hang up and say you didn't.

Many corporate web sites, for example, are not for public consumption. They appear to be strictly for others of their kind and future clients. They list clients proudly by logo on "brag pages." They brandish their abilities, knowledge and expertise at government and other corporations in their rug-weave. They are world-wide. Every single one of them. Energy systems, construction, bio-technology, radiation science, chemical engineering, nuclear warfare labs, laser systems, aerosol science, weather modifications/cloud-making, epidemiology, x-ray science, astro-physics, the war colleges, aeronautics, drone warfare systems, satellite surveillance, real time audio/video surveillance systems, etc.

Corporations in these categories and their government support are the flow, I believe, that is taking our planet to a cataract. Much of the world is along for the ride -- like those passengers on 9/11. But some of us don't like where the canoe is going.

If the remote control guys are taking us to a good place, then why are they trying to hide it from us? Reminds me of a song by Kansas. There comes a place on a river when you reach The Point of No Return.

A question you might ask yourself is "how long?" How long do we have to turn this canoe around? Should we rock the boat? Or just go with the flow...

http://shpearson.wordpress.com/

Nabs

2010-04-22T05:38:00.000-07:00

Since this pretext began, it seems to me that each year there would be so many blood offerings. It is what I call them because I do not believe them to be what the "news" reported.

It is like each year, so many people are sacrificed to "The War on Terror." Among these corpses one finds low-echelon government contractors, journalists, refugees, innocent by-standers, women and children, "displaced persons", of course Benazir Bhutto, Iraqi military-augmentation police, random citizens from Pakistan, Kashmir, Afghanistan, Iran, India, and the USA.

Notice how our purchased politicians enjoy immunity by the way. They are exempt from bullets and bombers world-wide, whilst a Congressman like Jim Traficant gets sent to prison on a flimsy, fabricated kanga-ruse.

Our "top military leaders" appear to be immune from "terrorist" attacks also -- as a steady stream of young soldiers and Marines in boxes is flown back to their bereft mothers. Aye, to the bitter tears of their fathers, sisters and brothers.

I believe that there is no terror, save what is staged. In the clearing smoke, I smell friendly fire and thugs for hire. Like each year there is a quota of so many slain that get listed under the government's body-count. Hapless corpses that are sent home for burial as "proof" that there is a war on. To stir up anger, outrage and keep the "fight" going.

What I have not seen proven is who this terrorist is supposed to be. It's going on ten years. If we are waging a war against terrorism, don't we deserve to see what a real terrorist looks like? So far all I've seen are bloody body-parts from "so-called" suicide bombers who can no longer talk. And face-down, mutilated dead men in turbans with captions under their photos, labeling them as militants, insurgents, terrorists and gunmen.

The few alleged terrorists who have survived their tortures in kangaroo prisons say that they were snatched from the streets and locked up without charge. Collected like so many flowers on a hill-side, these Muslim men were "nabbed" not unlike the "surplus poor" from Irish and English streets who were sold into white slavery over the last centuries. You know, the little kids who worked the textile mills and oyster shucking houses in bare feet and dirty faces. Pre-pubescent boys with the countenances of broken old men staring into the camera eye. Those little chaps were "nabbed" also. I recently read in The Barnes Review about how this is where the term "kid-napping" got its name. The original word was "kid-nabbing."

There seems to be a lot of nabbing still going on. Girls and women are nabbed for lives of prostitution against their will, for example. Also in the porn industry you can see evidence of this. Just check the expressions on some of the girls in today's porn movies. I dare you. Their eyes tell all.

How far-fetched is it thereby to think that Muslim men of fighting age would be nabbed for populating prisons of a burgeoning imperium? This serves two purposes. One, it weakens the Resistance and two, it gives names and faces to sham-terrorism. Many of these guys can't speak English so it's easy to say -- that they said things they didn't say. Who in America can speak their language anyway?

Where are those C5-sized loads flying at 0320 in the morning? And who is their cargo? Guantanamo sure is a happenin' place these days. I've never seen so many planes wearing a path in the sky heading in that direction. How convenient for the government that these nabbing joints are on a Bolshevik island. Even their own people are braving bull-sharks at night to get away from the place.

No, I don't see any terrorists. All I see are dead bodies who can't talk. And men trying to defend their homes from strike fighters, bombs, drones and "allied" invaders. A few words to drive the point home: offensive, attack, onslaught, surge. If it was happening to you and your family, what would you do? How would you feel?

As for the sham pretext of 9/11, the man behind the curtain has been exposed. Now he's tap-dancing in the wind, palms-up. How much longer before the bamboo hook?
http://shpearson.wordpress.com/

Orion

2010-03-17T06:06:00.000-07:00

Months ago, I noticed how the Belt of Orion was straight as a ruler in the eastern sky. Then the next night it was astronomically correct. It was as if the computer geek who put it up there had either never taken astronomy or was out sick the day they covered it in class. The center star in Orion's Belt is slightly askew, you see.

Speaking of Orion, yesterday at 0925, a P3-Orion submarine hunter nearly grazed my back garden fence. Radars justa blarin'. He was low and loud as he could be. Reminded me of Daddy when he used to fly by our house to say hello to Momma on his way to the Basin. The mythical Basin that inspired my juvenilia. Deep and broad, a barn-stormer's dream. Into it he dove with his eager craft and did a hundred things you have not dreamed of. In his flashy tail-dragger, throwing back the sun from laughter-silvered wings.

The P3 pilot was about other things. He was about his father's business. No John Gillespie Magee was he. Nor can he hold a candle to my Daddy.

Just another common trollop. Told that he can pack a wallop. A war-plane the size of Dodi al Fayed's yacht who buzzes houses in the suburbs. What a whore. I remember when pilots used to be a little more. We all know who this guy's workin' for.

Then when I raised my camera, he fled like the rout at Bull Run. Signature of an unprincipled man.

(experience The Basin, http://shpearson.wordpress.com/ )

The Dark Side of Chiropractic

2010-02-27T17:06:00.000-08:00

One should be warned of a human factor in the chiropractic industry. The profession lends itself to abuse. Should a chiropractor be dishonest (imagine that), tempted to drum-up more business or just angry at his patient, he can easily turn instruments of healing into those of injury. His hands top the list.

According to the history of chiropractic, it seems to have originated from a spiritual charism. Some people throughout history have been gifted with healing knacks. On the coattails of these gifted ones ride today's quacks.

These people were called "bone-setters." They had a magic touch for healing pain in the joints, particularly those of the back. The vertebral joints, their disks and dynamics are the domain of bone-setters. Fixing what ails people there comes as naturally to them as leading armies does to a virago.

Bone-setters applied strategic thrusts, aligning the spinal column, setting bones aright. What they did cannot be explained by modern technology, as bone-setters practiced their craft many centuries B.C. People would come to them from miles around like tribal people came to their holy men.

Given the sacred origin of this healing craft, today's schools of chiropractic cannot be compared with it. From my studies about the phenomenon, one does not become a bone-setter. One is rather born a bone-setter. Like the Lakota holy man who has visions about the future, you can't set up a technical school that teaches people how to do that.

In chiropractic today, there is a curious instrument called an activator. It is a spring-loaded hammer that looks like a miniature pogo stick. This hand-held device is used most commonly to strike the transverse and spinous processes of the vertebrae. Proponents of its use claim that this little hammer helps adjust spinal misalignments, also known as "vertebral subluxations" -- the diagnosis of which is not clearly discernable outside of risky radiation imagery (x-rays) which is pushed at chiropractic offices beyond necessity.

Chiropractors claim that subluxations can also be detected by observing the length of a patient's legs, when they are measured side-by-side. I do not accept this as a science. For injuries, magnetic resonance imagery is a substantial method of diagnosis to be considered. If a gentle, hands-only spinal adjustment does not do the trick, then what ails you is something beyond the scope of the chiropractor anyway. Get thee to an MRI lab if you want to know the brass-tacks.

If there is no pain present, it is a good indicator that things are fine. When it comes to bones, leaving what is not broken, unbroken is better for the spine. These eager-beaver doctors should be told that if nothing hurts, then Dude -- don't fix it.

As things read to me, medical questionnaires are not so much about diagnosis as they are about fishing. The doctor is fishing for ways to make you feel sick and worried. Every medical student knows that studying diseases can manifest in physical symptoms. As does the hypnotist who's bread and butter is the power of suggestion.

Did your mother die of kidney failure? Then that is perhaps how you will die (hint-hint). Are you sometimes depressed or divorced? Well naturally you're a crack-pot in need of psychotropic medication. What else is wrong with you? Let's cast the jitter-bug a little farther this time. Do you have night sweats? Based on your age, the sky is falling. We have some pills for that. How's your sex-life? Not so good? We need to get you on some hormones right away or else you'll surely lose your mind.

You get the idea. So at the chiro's, expect a similar questionnaire about all the things that are supposed to be wrong with you. And how the bones in your back are all related to it -- somehow. If the white-coat industry pushed Amish veggies and vigorous exercise as hard as they pushed pills, their industry would dwindle to tying off bleeders and end-of-life morphine.

The activator can be used to align a subluxated vertebra by striking one of the handy bone levers (transverse or spinous process) and thusly snap it back into its proper place again. Likewise, the activator can also be used to knock a perfectly-good bone askew using the same method. If this is the case, you will feel it. It will hurt. Keep in mind that not only is a spinal adjustment not supposed to hurt -- but if done correctly, it should feel good, like your little sister walking on your back after band practice.

According to the bone-setters, your body has a wisdom of its own and gets its walking orders from a higher place. Injury and disease are made known to you in obvious ways. If all you do with your body is ride a daily couch, then these ways will be less obvious.

The spine has a propensity to right itself by simple traction. Hang upside-down from the monkey bars for a while and listen for the popping sounds. Doesn't that feel good? That is your spine aligning itself.

Ideally, the activator spring tension is supposed to be loaded to an amplitude commensurate with the bone size and density that it is intended to adjust. Should the hammer strike a small bone with high-enough amplitude, a fracture can result. If the activator is used to secretly injure a patient, he may think that he injured himself and seek help for the new pain from the same person who caused it.

Chiropractic is not recognised by most insurance companies and thereby shares a predictable decline with other alternative therapies in today's economy. This sets the stage for fraud, abuse and deliberate injury of patients who would otherwise only visit their chiropractors when they have hoisted a heavy cat, or something.

In the case of angry chiropractors, one should be aware that "neck adjustments" can be used to tear every muscle in your neck. All a skilled injurer needs is four seconds to make it happen. But your body will require two weeks to make it heal. The damage inflicted will remind you each time you turn your head, however slightly, that you should not have asked for that itemized list of costs and services.

Some chiropractors may be angered by having to produce a document of charges and services for their patient's records. Such documents hold the chiropractor to what has been put in writing and are safeguards against fast-talking duplicity.

One doctor recently told a patient that based on x-rays he found a subluxation that he then treated with what felt like a blow from a carpenter's hammer. Yet when the patient called him to task, he could not point out which bone it was on the x-rays -- which showed no sign of subluxation. The blow to the patient's vertebra was inflicted during a prone position without warning. The patient complained of fracture-class pain that took several months to subside.

Lessons learned: always demand everything in writing up front. Nothing a chiropractor does should require you to remove clothing. Never submit to unnecessary x-rays. Never let a chiropractor use an activator hammer on your body unless you are willing to risk broken or dislocated bones. Ask the chiropractor exactly what his adjustment process entails before you let him touch you. http://shpearson.wordpress.com

** Sources
(1) Scott Haldeman, Principles and Practice of Chiropractic (New York: McGraw-Hill, 2005)
(2) The Empirical, 2009

Camps, Pens and Kent State

2010-02-16T13:43:00.000-08:00

Showtime's sleazy allegory smacks of the same dagger that hangs over Americans from state and federal prison web sites. They are linked to fabricated "psy-op" sites that brandish similar swords of Damocles, reeking of CIA's cuddly bed-buddy, the ADL. It is my belief that CIA and ADL are close nestlers due to studies of their texts and familiarity with their writing styles, formats, general modus operandi in the field, et cetera. We have had a few years to watch and study them. They are not the only kids on campus.

The Anti-Defamation League (they live to defame, by the way) is a non-government affiliated friend on whom the government can depend -- to spread dis-info, propaganda, fear-juice and bogus drivel from which the government wants to distance itself. Not only for the obvious reasons, but also for legal fine print.

Back to the daggers. Some web sites exhibit humiliating photographs of inmates taking showers and being marched around on their daily routines. In the one below, the writer pokes fun at prisoners and issues thinly-veiled threats to anyone visiting the web site. He implies that they too can find themselves in this predicament.

On prison sites I have read what I deem postings of bad taste. Lurid details and witness testimonies of execution attendees who watched a man die in the electric chair. The list was long of those who watched this horrific thing. They went into great detail in their wordy accounts describing every drop of fluid that oozed from the man's body. Way too much information. They give us these details but CNN won't report the honest news?

This is a fear tactic targeting anyone who is curious about those federal prison camps springing up all over the place. FEMA Camps they call them. They are large capacity concentration camps. Their locations are no longer a secret. Sites like this drive the spike in deeper of what our government has been covertly working on for decades.

Here, in colors and contrasts designed to strain your eyes, you can read your fill of menacing, psychiatric rhetoric designed to make you afraid of your government. It is pickled in the venom of contempt. Like the man who sends a two-year old filly to the slaughter house for losing a high-stakes race. Same venom. It has a distinct flavour: http://www.federalprisoncamptour.com/index/html

You will note how this fabricated site links to official federal and state prison sites (no doubt with collusion and support). The government appears to be worried about what to do with millions of angry citizens who grow more angry by the day as they learn what their government has been up to for not just 60 years, but for over a century. Truly the manifest-
ation of Howard Rheingold's biggest nightmare:
smart mobs.

Unlike the crude, illiterate mob that was harnessed to bring about the Bolshevik Revolution, you people are capable of independent thought. Despite what your "shadow government" may write and say about you, they know that you are not at the mercy of their translations, public speeches and propaganda. You can choose where you get your news.

That is why they are presently racing to enact legislation to muzzle Internet broadcasts, censor and ban blogs like this one and block other sorts of media that publish news you can't get from CNN. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XGw3_U91utU

This has them worried. You are a powder-keg of might and voting power. As we are taught by the war colleges, deception, intimidation and martial law have their uses. A fitting example is what the National Guard did at Kent State University in 1970. Boy, did that ever back-fire, huh Mr. War College.

A bunch of trigger-happy weekend warriors sprayed rapid fire into a crowd of unarmed college students -- oops. They killed a few of them and kicked off the fire-storm of protest that would cripple the Vietnam war machine. Slam-dunk. Protests whose anthems were sung by Jim Morrison, John Lennon and a chorus of other voices who threatened the government from a rock & roll stage.

The Vietnam War hype received a killing blow in Ohio that day. People were wising up to the fact that Vietnam -- was a sham. Just like what's happening right now in Afghanistan. Costing us much in blood and treasure, these wars are making war contractors rich and corpses of our sons. They are making billions on the blood of armies and their victims.

History does indeed repeat. Given that, and knowing the outcome of large public outcry, the party-hat war machine is getting nervous. Their gravy train might soon come to a screeching halt. And that's not what they want. They want war in the Middle East for years. And years and years and years. It serves so many of their aims.

Kill-off Muslims, the hated neighbors of Israel. Reduce American population. Finish-off our economy and national sovereignty. Enslave us to international tyranny. Enlarge our monstrous government and line the pockets of international bankers in the process just like every war since Waterloo.

So yeah, they have motive to make cowards of you. Jim Morrison spoke his mind on stage, digressing copiously between songs. He tangled racks with police everywhere he went, I believe, not because he was drunk and obnoxious. But because he opposed the Vietnam war and was an embarrassment to his flag officer father. He was found conveniently dead in his Paris bath tub at the ripe old age of 27.

Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin followed suit. Heroin we are told. Nobody got too old. Not even Ronnie VanZant or John Lennon. Any charismatic, anti-government voice that drew big crowds. Think about it. Can you sway public opinion?

Many seminal voices have been silenced over the years. They kill journalists like crazy world-wide. Dangerous business, writing the news if you are not allergic to truth. John F. Kennedy was a potentate. Don't forget Italy's Aldo Moro. Do you see the pattern?

I think the next presidential election will be interesting.
http://shpearson.wordpress.com/

Consider the Source

2010-02-15T16:01:00.000-08:00

Thinly-veiled allegory, no? http://shpearson.wordpress.com/2010/02/15/henrys-dagger/

Hot Smoke

2010-02-04T20:19:00.000-08:00

I watched a mental hygiene movie aimed at Marines. In Cover Me, it looked like a chaplain working his way down the ranks as he took both hands of each Marine in his, saying, "you're gonna make it." With ceremoniously crossed arms, he gripped their hands firmly, offering words of encouragement. It was apparent that his moves were well-rehearsed. Looking them in the eye, giving it all he had by way of religious witchcraft, he cast his spell of faith, hope and apple pie. The chaplain did his best to put the military hocus-pocus on gullible youth. Those poor boys swallowed it hook, line and sinker. Then marched off to war.

Vietnam all over again, yes? You should read the freak postings of that faceless, nick-named nurse on one of the medical forums. He/she goes on about the field medicine practice opportunities in the blood-bath of Afghanistan. Oh how sweet it is to get the chance to saw somebody's leg off, right? Their stuff reads like a scene from Fangoria. Screw the Hippocratic Oath, let's just compare horror stories. The giddy, o'-so-delightful listings of goodies from the war zone include tales of battle wounds, exotic infections and other "fascinating accounts" of blood and guts.

I don't think these people are Angels in Green. They won't list their real names. I file them in the genre of the emergency medical technician who couldn't wait for his next ambulance ride so he could take Polaroids of the dead people from high-speed car crashes. Then trade them like baseball cards with his paramedic pals later in the snack room.

This long war, like Vietnam, is attracting vultures, ghouls, morgue freaks, opportunists and "dee-fence" contractors who are making a killing off of killing. In the mean time, Stateside, you have suicidal recruiters who are tired of telling lies and blowing hot smoke at high school boys.

There are legions of "professions" skimming more than their share off the war machine. The medical mania looks like a swarm of cat-eyed reef sharks tearing into fresh meat. They can't get there fast enough to rip off their piece of the action -- so they can brag about it. I just wanna slap them down. They shall never stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the Navy corpsmen I have known. Never.

I have felt the jagged fingers of Lewis Puller, Jr., as he shook my hand from a wheelchair. He was an advising lawyer on the General's Staff back then. When he wheeled out from behind his desk, I was shocked. He was missing both legs from the hip. The Marines in his Platoon told me that Puller stepped on a booby-trapped Howitzer shell. It was from these Marines that I learned the value of a corpsman. And the value of a man who is thrust into war on a half-asst whim. Sent back a fragment. And is expected to get on with his life. Puller gave it a shot. Gave it all he had. Then he shot himself. (photo from the handsome Webmaster @, http://1stmarines.org/)

It is heartbreaking to see how many psychologists, behavioural scientists, grief counselors and psychiatrists are cashing-in on analyzing the suffering of America's fighting man. They matter-of-factly lecture their crafts and regurgitate what they have been taught in their fancy schools about aggression and fear hormones. They have teased apart the brains of lab rats with tantamount clinical detachment to be sure.

Taking the cake is one Ph.D. of Psychology and Research. Luxuriating in her pearlescent eye-shadow, she calmly describes the horror of combat for today's sacrificial lambs who are taught to think of themselves as wolves. What qualifies her to talk about such things? The Red Badge of Courage? As she smiles, basking in the focus of her videographer, they cut to scenes of a wounded Marine writhing on a helicopter litter as he is being med-evac'ed. With another lipstick smile she says, "You can't control what your body does during a traumatic or stressful event." Duh. No kidding. And what of those might she have known?

Then another brilliant comment from yet another cosmetically-assisted Dr. of Psychology, "It's okay if you're not okay." The Sgt. Major of the Marine Corps had this to say, "Get them help -- so we can get them back in the fight."

They wrap up this pep-talk with a corny song (Calling All Angels) and a quote from Rudyard Kipling, "The strength of the wolf is in the pack. And the strength of the pack is in the wolf." After watching the "film" you can send your comments to Director/Producer Norman Lloyd.

Clearly they are worried about another case of "maxed-out and pist-off." Traumatic stress is hard on the body and the spirit who is jailed for a term within. Pop some corn and gather 'round for this sure-fire Oscar pick. http://www.semperfifund.org/resources.html

Dodi and Diana

2010-01-28T15:55:00.000-08:00

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 with it, 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 Taliban or 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

2010-01-27T06:32:00.000-08:00

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

2010-01-25T11:47:00.000-08:00

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

2010-01-25T07:10:00.000-08:00

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 "surrending 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."

Pentagon Papers

2009-12-30T19:15:00.000-08:00

You can get on the "Pentagon Papers For Sale" web site and read your fill of dry government parlance. They have verbose white papers written by their top-notch prima donnas from the war colleges and post graduate schools. They compete with each other to bore you. If you don't get a head-ache from reading the first page or two, you can drop $45.00 and buy the whole enchilada from abstractstorm.com.

The Pentagon Gang has a train of thesis papers that they have sanitized for public consumption. One in particular caught my eye tonight. Wading past the dizzying acronyms and wordinizations, zero'ing in on the message (one might need a doctorate degree from a war college for this), I finally got what they were saying.

They have teamed-up with the geeks who design computer combat games and translated what happens on your computer screen into the night sky. Something called Dark Star (high altitude endurance unmanned aerial vehicles) uses drones for enemy surveillance and targeting purposes. It's a no-contest advantage over whatever doomed victims you choose.

This writer has seen what appears to be a similar targeting and surveillance system presently in operation over much of the southeastern United States. It looks like the system is in the testing stages. If you do not relish the tiresome verbiage of war department wanna-be's, then just have a look in the sky. The Pentagon Paper salesman will still be online to sell you all the technical hot air you can stand. After seeing what I've seen, you'll make the connection.

So much for sunsets. Click on the photo.

Bullshit Mills Are Us

2009-12-27T14:59:00.000-08:00

You can find blogs and web sites claiming to be for some cause. But as you read the content, will sense that it is an elaborate mockery aimed at gullible, good-hearted people. Be wary of such efforts. They are full of donation requests to prove that they can get your money. That's what I think. Call it my opinion. "Call it what you like," said the Cat.

This appears to be how the deriders add injury to insult. They swindle money out of the same people they are poking fun at. They hoodwink donations out of a concerned public while they have a laugh, perhaps while writing elaborate fiction for the government and wealthy "non-profit" organizations. They make sport of the needy and afflicted. They even mock stray cats and dogs: http://www.petsofhomeless.org/.

An example of such a blog is this one: http://homelessmary.blogspot.com/. To me it reads like a jeer. It has links to other web sites that work readers for donations. Anytime you find one loaded-down with links and tributaries, be alert. No single individual has time for something that convoluted and elaborate.

It smacks of dis-info fiction. The kind of stuff we have come to expect from ADL, CIA, JDL and other such yahoo's. It is my belief and opinion that they are not your friends. And they are not good people. Our government is a corrupt, corporate nebula with no soul. They are like Wikipedia or Google -- faceless and not accountable for what they do. They run with a pack of demon-spawn. I believe they purchase the silence of coroners.

Their bullshit mills employ armies of fiction writers propped up by psychiatrists, sociologists, psychologists and behavioral scientists of every gradation. They have departments upon departments of story-spinners, fabricators, even Poe & Dickens wanna-be's. They have a fleet of engineers to advise them on their scientific lies.

On Homeless Mary's untenably-long list of "homeless" links you can find http://homelessvoice.org/ which I believe is an organization that gets help from the government to enslave and exploit those they claim to help. Organizations like these seem to perpetuate destitution while collecting money for pseudo good will. Their design keeps homeless people homeless. And apparently in bondage to a dismal system.

I gave money to a man at a traffic light recently. He was begging while passing out copies of the Homeless Voice newspaper. Upon perusal of the rag, I learned that they farm-out homeless people to do humiliating odd jobs around the city. They encourage clients to phone them to set up bookings for homeless laborers.

Homeless people work like slaves all day to collect money for their "room and board" at this homeless shelter. I called one of the contact numbers listed in their newspaper. They seem to be making a profit off their homeless labor force while charging them for "room and board." From what I see around town, their system isn't helping. Does it ensure poverty and dependence on a system that exploits the destitute? Does anybody give a hoot? They advertise in their paper that their homeless labor force can get the job done for less money.

This homeless advocacy campaign bears watching. Ever notice how they collect money for the needy at grocery stores via your debit and credit card purchases? Ever wonder if that money makes it to where it's supposed to go? I do. My tack is to put cash into the hands of people who look like they need it. Period.

Who needs red tape and middle men? Apparently nobody. But the government shoves them down our throats. Just raise a field of organic crops and try to sell them to your neighbors and see what happens.

Malachi's Lies

2009-12-20T20:43:00.000-08:00

A few years ago when I was clueless about the undercurrent that sweeps us along, I stumbled onto Malachi Martin's books. Reading the wordy load of Hostage to the Devil, I thought with my gullible mind, "Why is this so vulgar, twisted and perverted?" I thought this guy used to be a priest. Martin's meandering narratives of the possessed seemed to hail from the devil himself, not a Catholic soul who feared God.

There were too many pages in Martin's books like the Talmud. He milked it for miles beyond what it took to describe things. He had to be getting his jollies writing this stuff. If he had a legitimate case to recount, it would not include so much digression. He would have stuck to the story like anyone does who is telling the truth.

Martin seemed to luxuriate in the process of his writing like one who is channeling the flow from an unclean spirit. His writing was anything but clean. It spiraled deeper and deeper into the smut and gibberish-abyss of his questionable soul.

A year before that I read Ralph Sarchie's Beware the Night. Sarchie served up Father Malachi Martin like he was Holy Ambrosia -- the most everclear and virtuous priest in the world. The book was written with the help of Lisa Collier Cool, a freelance writer to whose credit is listed How to Give Good Phone. Well there you go. I should have done my homework before swallowing Sarchie's tingly account. According to his Facebook page, this good Catholic boy is now divorced and seeking revenge for 9/11 in the Middle East.

I didn't know back then that most publishing houses would never print such things if it was the truth. Just look on the spine and see who published the book. That should tell you whether or not you can expect to believe it. Anything that appears to glorify Jesus Christ should be looked upon with suspicion if it comes out of publishing houses owned by Talmudists.

Sarchie's book was a rollicking read. To whom shall I give credit for this cunning fiction? Anyone singing the praises of Malachi Martin has to be either a dupe or an accomplice. Which is Sarchie? He went charging off to Iraq after "Al Easter Bunny." And he had to have help writing his book.

As for Malachi, he knows now whether or not the swami was correct for telling us that we are God.

Sweatin' It

2009-12-14T21:08:00.001-08:00

Should we be flattered that the CIA & Co. (includes partners and sycophants world-wide) are so worried about badly camouflaged secrets -- that they are paying little old ladies to pose as nitwits for their dis-info campaigns? That's what it seems like by the ocean of frantic web sites, blogs, hysterical drivel and YouTube freak shows.

Indeed, medicated loonies of all sorts have come out of the woodwork to discredit honest reports. These phony characters natter on about space ships, aliens, UFO's and counterfeit stars. They appear less than credible of course. And do for the truth what a 55-year-old woman does for butt-cleavage jeans.

A way to put a stop to the loony show is with binoculars. Just aim them at the sky and see for yourself. Empirical knowledge is the ruby in a pebble-bed of lies.

Why do you think they have mini-vans with TV's in them now? They don't want your kids to look out the windows while you are driving. They are afraid kids will see something in the sky that they will ask questions about. Children are naturally inquisitive and not politically-correct. They are not employed and worried about losing their jobs. Their drug-free senses are acute. They have minds like steel traps and can learn a new language in six months. You think they might pick up on a few details?

When you look at the sky, if at first you see clouds the size of football fields blocking your view, ask yourself when have you seen such clouds before? Wait a couple of minutes and let them float by. Then have another look and you'll see what they were trying to hide. You will notice on some days what looks like a white bed-sheet spread above the clouds. This is the aerosol curtain that has been drawn between the stratosphere and Earth. It has the appearance of spilt milk. And blocks our view to the Milky Way at night. Don't take another's word for anything. Do your own homework. Orion. Bushnell. Steiner. Olympus. Nikon. (10x or higher)

It's entertaining to see the span of the Wizard's hyperventilation. His panic takes on many facets. The depths to which he will stoop are as gaudy as the sophistication to which he will soar in order to keep Joe Public in a fog.

There are doddering old ladies with bad dye-jobs "testifying" to this and that. Along with ridiculous codgers from New Mexico claiming that they are scintillating stars of knowledge. There are talk-show hosts claiming to be somebody, but when you follow their trail it leads to nowhere. They appear to be non-existent people on assignment from the government. Their personages are as genuine as a hair-weave. They are covert funnels for public knowledge and opinion.

Jeff Rense? Alex Jones? Eric Hufschmid? Do not be so quick to snap these jokers up and give them your names and addresses. Who are they working for? Who are they really working for? Does anybody know?

I may be wrong about some of these people and I would like to be. But I am compelled to foster your healthy investigations into their Internet personalities. Whose payroll are they on? Investigate Peter Davenport, the Power Hour's motive, Pastor David J. Meyer, William Lyne (who is named after a hospital in New South Wales by the way), and the freakish school teacher Susan Ohanian.

The bogus hot air of Pam Schuffert is so lurid, you can't even class it with the above characters. Schuffert reads like a hatchling from the CIA/ADL fiction mills. This flailing cornball calls herself an "investigative journalist." The biggest burr under the saddles of our government and their Zionist head-lice is investigative journalism. So naturally they have to fabricate a Pam Schuffert.

Victor Thorn and M. C. Piper are shaking up the "world-wide" Wizard so he is doing damage-control. He must smear virtuous reporting. Notice how Schuffert is always mobile and has a post office box address so you can't Google her residence. But of course. The address is so you can spill your guts in letters that will be forwarded to the appropriate HUMINT analysis departments. Shuffert is all over the blogs and fear-mongering web sites, spreading over-the-top, exaggerated fiction. They are breaking a sweat trying to give real journalism a bad name. But anyone can see that this is lampoonery. The Schuffert character is written to be a hysterical wind-bag, loosely-wrapped with one oar in the water. She drops names to make people think that she enjoys a rapport with legitimate Christian conservatives. But she doesn't exist. The "she" is more than likely a "he." Whose voice is the jeering work of a shill-writer.

I have encountered assorted stolen identities. Some names are even those of dead people. The "authorities" hack into email, debtor's accounts, blogs, cell phone networks. They commandeer web sites and pretend to be colleagues, friends and family members to people who are on their "watch list." It's called spying. Today it happens in cyberspace. According to the McGraw-Hill Homeland Security Handbook, federal investigators have no problem tapping into your telephone conversations. They enjoy full cooperation from all the cell phone networks.

I have locked horns with a few identity thieves and shill writers. They are venomous, Christian and Muslim-hating hacks. I believe hey are being paid to write dis-info shills for the government and worried Zionist advocacy groups. They have a slant that I have learned to recognize. They all seem to hail from the same hive.

The list goes on for miles of these flamboyant characters who do not seem to exist. There's even a guy writing long articles in a similar vein to Schuffert's who is using a dead man's name. I researched the name and learned that he died many years ago. They are looking up dead people and using their names for by-lines. That way there will be public records about them that make them seem legitimate. But the one public record they hope you don't bump into is their death certificate.

There is a burgeoning bandwagon of the 60-somethings out there telling lies for the money. We have been cultured to trust and believe our elders because they are supposed to be wise and virtuous from their life lessons. So of course 60-year old preachers with an eloquent gift-of-gab will attract a few moths to the porch light. These charismatic speakers are handy operatives for a regime whose slip is showing. In crimson.

When somebody isn't the sharpest tool in the shed, they can also be a treasure trove for the boys at Langley. There's no threat that these "tools" will do their own thinking along the way. They can be given psychotropic drugs, hypnotic suggestions and enough money to live in comfort -- as long as they pretend to be somebody who they are not and sit by the phone around the clock. They are instructed to get as much information from their callers as possible. Like: Where are you? What's your first and last name? Where do you live? And so on. Then this info gets entered into a database for the nervous government.

I infer the CIA's m.o. has always been the money -- purchasing mercenaries, femme fetales, assassins, party-crashers, betrayal, false-flag terrorists, perhaps even extremist shill preachers pontificating about "silent sound spread spectrum," fake radio hosts, and various bottlenecks for public opinion to keep them abreast of who is getting wise and to what.

From the stuff we see on the Internet, they're sweatin' it. They have snoop teams working triple-time. Sniffing around everywhere, trying to learn about what people are learning. They even have fabricated web sites and blogs supposedly by these "credible" people with credible positions. The ploy is to use these personalities to gain public trust and elicit candor. They do it via e-mails, feedback entries, net forums, post office box addresses and telephone calls to radio talk shows. Their marching orders are to take down names and addresses of people who contact them. With that information today on anyone, I might as well have their dossier.

The monstrously-large government is worried about what Americans are thinking. Because their Master and Commander, the malignant State of Israel, is worried about which direction the pendulum of American allegiance might be swinging. All this ties in with what you see in the night sky. The war zone isn't just in the Middle East. It hasn't been since 9/11. The news is out on that one anyway -- regardless of how long they withhold the glaring black box evidence. Many-a-Navy diver has retrieved plane crash black box recorders from the deep. Why are they holding back the evidence of these cockpit recorders from 9/11? They didn't just disappear.

Here's a web site, I infer, that "CIA et al." is presently using to discredit genuine reports of a similar nature: www.inversity.org/node/318. They have diseased the link with weird software designed to confuse and frustrate the average person. Just ignore and circumvent it. Aren't their psy-ops impressive? As demonstrated by this web site, their strategy is to publish the truth couched in hysterical text that will be deemed from a "wacko-loonie." Often these fictive persons are presented as absurd religious fanatics. The kinds of people we write off as schizophrenics, paranoiacs, neurotics, Alices in Wonderland and drug-addled deep enders. These characters are passed-off as authors of truth-studded blogs and web sites (but of course) to nullify the "real McCoy."

That's the psy-op. Discredit facts by couching them in fiction. Hence, truth suffers guilt by association. Their present modus operandi is to publish a 50/50 split of fact and falsehood. They find seminal writing on a troubling subject and copy-cat it to the hair. Then they lard it with falsehood to frame the facts as a lie. They have gotten brave with this method. Some of the stuff I've read is 80% truth. The 20% fiction is so ridiculous, however, that their psychiatrist advisers calculate that readers will write it off as rantings from the mentally ill. Look for all-caps, underscores, exclamatory punctuation, flashy neon high-lighting, tacky cartoons aimed at Middle American fears and concerns, and verses from their "biggest fear of all," The King James Bible.

I suppose I cannot assert (but want to) that there exists a vast mill of technical and fiction writers in the employ of "CIA et al." who do nothing all day but crank dis-info drivel. Their efforts read as if they have been edited by a team of psychiatrists to make it psychologically shrewd. The ADL shares kindred worries. There must needs be a bed-fellow rapport between the two agencies, one surmises, as they spin their lies, weave their webs of deceit and fabricate bull-feces for consumption by the masses. To swallow their stuff, you need a taste for the road-apples.

The Shadow Doctors

2009-11-11T10:35:00.000-08:00

From a suspiciously-anonymous clique of medical writers comes a suspiciously-free "do-it-yourself" manual. One can download from the Internet a copy of their 213-page guide about roughing it after a catastrophe. This darkly-written medical book is entitled Survival and Austere Medicine: An Introduction (Second Edition), written and edited by The Remote, Austere, Wilderness and Third World Medicine Discussion Board Moderators. What a mouthful -- but they sure won't give you their names.

This foreboding freebie was published in 2005. In an exhaustive lecture about what to do in dire straits, a nurse-paramedic, lab technician, military medic, emergency medical technician, herbalist and a pair of doctors combine their advice for what could be an ulterior motive.

As one reads their chilling dose of good will, the reason for their desired anonymity emerges. There is a chapter in this book that seems like a provocation for nurses to commit murder. In a burdensome load, the nursing chapter instructs care-givers to do things no person would be able to do in an austere situation short of going insane. In a previous chapter, detailed instructions are given on how to make ether. How convenient. Then in a burst of sarcastic warning, there comes a thinly-veiled hint that it can be used to put somebody's lights out.

The book reads like a calm, jeering mockery of a future predicament. In response to fear and worry, the star doctor lectures for chapters about the grimmest of miseries. Like a demon in a white coat, he mocks his readers with comments like, "...if you are considering a long-term collapse..." and "...if you are planning for a multi-generational catastrophe..." Then a nurse/paramedic calling him or herself "Reasonable Rascal," pushes a nurse to the brink with, "You should give some thought to how you will wash large amounts of linen possibly without access to electricity."

Euthanasia is addressed and offered as a way to take care of business when things get bad enough. They even have gruesome fiction in the back of the manual about amputations and other things that interest the medical community.

This glib manual reads like a preparation for not only the medical community, but also ordinary citizens. The focus is quick and dirty medicine that one would have to practice in back-woods, 3rd World, or post- nuclear/biological/chemical/radiological-attack scenarios.

The buzzwords used throughout this book tie these shadow doctors in with other globalists. There is nobody who writes an exhaustive medical book of this size for free. The ulterior motive for this project might be a commission from the Wizard to lighten the load on the first-responders, military and medical staff who will be saddled with the task of a disaster aftermath.

This free Internet manual is hardly the first sighting of an iceberg whose tip has been bobbing up since 2002. The doctor who wrote most of it tries to rally up eager beavers who are instructed to buy a library of medical reference books. These groups are then to gather up more groups of medical enthusiasts to form pockets of disaster preparedness teams across the country. It seems that without substantial motive, nobody would go through all that trouble.

This manual is in good company with an ocean of post-2002 documents on the street of the same vein (military, state and municipal). It ties in neatly with the government's mass casualty assistance and mobile mortuary teams. These groups are all part of the "Preparedness Community." Prepared for what one might ask. This books lists a few things.

Here's the web address to their sinister freebie: www.survival-spot.com/survival-files/survival-medicine.pdf

Dead Calm

2009-10-18T06:49:00.000-07:00

No wonder then, why there has been a dead calm all summer. The hurricanes that blow through here are not just a footfall team. But this hurricane season I have not seen the palm fronds move a quarter inch to the left or right. Low, stationary drones do not fare well on a windy night. Imposter stars locked into low positions like it windless. Of course they had to delete the breezes, because their cover-clouds would all blow away.

I felt, rather, that "hurricane central" had become the Sargasso. And couldn't help but think of the sailors who tasted both feast and famine under sail. Here I was with a galleon fulla Spanish ponies heading for my new holdings in the West. And not a breeze did blow. Where am I gonna go? Only so much water on board. Horses drink a lot of it. Atmosphere is at a stand-still. How is a man to conquer new lands without his Rocinante?

Ever jettisoned horses in a dead calm when you can't sail away from them? Don't put yourself in that position, sailor. Doing it for the money always ends badly. Ask the trophy wife of a billionaire.

Same galleon fleet heading back to España now -- glutted with gold. Oh Atocha! Didn't see it coming. But you heard the rumble, didn't you o' Capitán. The approaching tempest turned azure to slate. Damn the thunder. You are in the sights -- plunder cast asunder!

Now you think you own the hurricane. And the calm. Forget not your lessons of centuries past. Lest more of your malignant work be asunder cast.

Ho-Train

2009-10-06T21:36:00.000-07:00

24/7 these painted harlots work the sky. Some have freakishly long fuselages for carrying their tanker-loads. Each one is painted-up like a woman who is trying to be somebody else. These jets are aerosol tankers that make artificial clouds, artificial weather and artificial haze canopies that are cover for things that have not yet declared themselves. The haze also serves for a screen on which to project holographic images -- particularly at night. These images provide a background for a foreground of little drones, which like these tanker jets, need a disguise to keep people from asking questions about them.

Funny thing about these

"passenger jets" is that they fly from and to places where no commercial airport is. And they fly over residential areas that is not a commercial flight path. But the most telling moves they make are U-turns to avoid telephoto lenses. Legitimate passenger jets would not care who was watching or photographing them. Conversely, they would welcome such attention as free advertising. The other factor that distinguishes legitimate airliners from these whores is air speed. Real passenger planes rapidly climb to altitude. They seek to clear a city and attain cruising speed. There are other jets queued-up behind them on the runway. There is a need for speed.

So you see how hanging in the firmament like an oil painting is not characteristic of "real" commercial airliners. They have some place to be with an estimated time of arrival. Their mission is to transport passengers, not spray aerosols. On top of that, they don't panic when somebody points a telephoto lens at them. These contractor whores all but jump out of their skins when you take their pictures.

They get briefings in their ready-rooms to fly very slow. This way they can hang in a white sky and almost hide -- until a metallic glint gives them away. I have seen them working the clouds from the Bay. Laying at anchor near one of the Keys, I could see the whole operation. They flew up and down the east shore, skewering a dense cloud bank. In a short time the clouds evaporated as though they were mist in the desert.

They attack our sky in fleets. Similar aircraft have been seen around the world doing the same thing. They have been snapped dumping their tanker loads in France, Germany, Greece and Canada among many other places.

This one likes to work alone -- high and fast. He is noisy. Note how the spray shoots out of twin ports and becomes visible well aft of the tail. This is a curious jet compared to the large tanker fleet we see all over the world. Maybe he is a new tool in the cloud/rain/draught/haze/polymer/silver iodide business. Or maybe he is practicing for spraying something less benign in the future. I noticed the distance between the aerosol discharge and the tail shown here. If I was going to lay a load of LD-100, I would want something capable of strike fighter speeds, agility and small enough to launch from the catapults. Like the horn-tooters wrote in their long white paper, "There will always be war as long as one guy wants another guy's stuff."

A few weeks ago I caught a whole gaggle of these prostitutes working the sky. They have turned the Chief's firmament into a red light district. They are accompanied by surveillance weenies of two varieties: little contractor gnats and military busy bodies. They worry about binoculars, curious or concerned citizens, targeting scopes, and telephoto lenses. I don't know why they worry so hard -- Wikipedia has written damage-control explanations to cover their six. Screen-writers from the same gang just put out a movie about how lying can be a positive thing. The no-by-line writers at Wikipedia know better than to ever show their faces in sunlight. Just like the tramps who fly these planes.

Biggy Fly

2009-09-04T21:15:00.000-07:00

Looked up at noise coming my way and saw a cargo plane with Stagger-wing attitude. Who was this bozo? Was he drunk? Click on the photos.

The local zoomies are up-in-the-air about something. Maybe it's about flying night owls too low over sleeping suburbs. People are talking about it. Asking questions in two languages. Hard to control information traveling in a bilingual shockwave. Now I see why the Wizard wants the whole world to speak one language. It's easier to monitor communications that way.

News travels fast with cell phones and inter-net. Hence another use of man-made lightning -- wipe out communications. Like the night of the Tate murders. Before going into somebody's house to kill them, you first cut the telephone lines.

Aerosol hirelings require bolstering with bigger purses to fly the Wizard's round-the-clock dirty work. I wonder what they had to pay American Airlines to use their trademark logo on the tails of those polymer-spraying floozies.

Whatever happened to moral compass in this once Land of the Free and Home of the Brave? What happened to the difference between right and wrong? Who has smeared a good thing?

I call him the Wizard. His money funds every abomination against what is right and good. He is ageless. Every generation a new version of him is born. He pays assassins, court room liars, falsifiers, puppet-politicians, guns-for-hire, disease cooks, cyanide factories, bomb-builders and war-planners. He rewards human-traffickers, addiction vendors, black-market organ salesmen, traitors, disinformation publishers, Internet manure-spreaders, false-flaggers, crooked cops and pill-pushers. He is cancer to national sovereignty and the cyanosis of liberty. He is a usurer. His bars and shackles imprison the innocent. He buys armies. This "man behind the curtain" seems to have more than a hand on our military. He makes them prance like a trained pony. He is the corruption of governments.

Today they had a monstrous gooney bird come over. What a drone of propellers. The lumbering, unwieldy thing looked like a cargo/troop transport. Our troops, as they are condescendingly called, are after all, so much cargo. In keeping with how they refer to personnel as "human capital" in today's government.

To the Wizard,

"the troops" are expendable bodies in desert camouflage. These sort of planes haul our sons and husbands off to instigated killing fields -- and then fly them back in flag-draped coffins. All-purpose planes. Airborne troop transports for the "quick and the dead."

Something like that flew over our house today. And over South Miami at altitudes that endangered all below. What could be the justification for such a flight? What public statement could they have for Habana Nueva? Whom they deem, as these photographs attest, expendable. Like the fresh meat they recently flew to Afghanistan.

More American hecatombs to Israel. Impetuous brainwashed boys, some of them. Others, hard up to pay the bills in a deliberate depression. Reminds me of that scene in The Deer Hunter. Christopher Walken playing Russian Roulette. That's what they're doing over there. Walking point through booby-trapped Howitzer shells. And the Wizard is watching it all from satellite. Perhaps with delight. Those aren't his sons going up in a pink mist, after all.

There is Cuban Heritage in this town to whom a bloody Marxist take-over is fresh on their minds. That regime was funded by the same Wizard who sends me buzz-jobs of assorted makes and models. There was a fixed-wing surveillance drone that I could have touched from my bedroom window. Noiseless. Maybe a faint whirrrrrrr. That's how close he was. I got a good look at him. Had a Stavatti look about it. Photogenic aircraft for the most part. But this last one was a hoot.

Before their big aviation stand-down two months ago, the Wizard sent helicopters to spot-light my bedroom windows and check the driveway. Why? Ask the Wizard. Maybe he's got something against the AMERICAN FREE PRESS. http://americanfreepress.net/

One of these choppers I caught in the act -- U.S. Coast Guard in blazing danger-orange and white in the middle of the night. 0200 hours sharp. Outside coverage on that one. I could have jumped up and grabbed the sled.

Since 2001 they have had a massive government "re-org." The U.S. Coast Guard is now part of the Christian and Muslim-hunting Department of Homeland Security. See what my husband misses by being in Iraq? Looks like the new war zone might be here. They sure are practicing to make it one above their artificial clouds. Get some binoculars and see for yourselves. The show starts at sundown and goes till 0500.

Powder Polymer

2009-09-04T18:18:00.000-07:00

Funny how the Tanker Team has had this polymer powder since 2001 and didn't use it on Katrina. It was invented in 2000 by Peter Cordani. The patent's main thrust is how to disarm a hurricane.

It works on the same physics that they use in super-thin sanitary napkins or high-absorbancy baby diapers. Turns liquid into gel. Except here they spray it into clouds in powder form. And it absorbs rain many times its own weight. The process cripples wind velocity. Based on this math, Katrina could have been erased from the air.

If they had this stuff as early as 2001, then why did they let Katrina happen? And why did FEMA just sit there and watch? Where was the massive "Preparedness Community" then?

Presently they are using polymer aerosols in Miami to hold back the seasonal monsoon. The back lawn has morphed into broad-leaf weeds that thrive on less rain in areas where the grass has died.

Why are they doing this? There are a few reasons. Tactical cloud-cover is wanted. With a normal monsoon, post-rain evening skies would be left too clear for their nefarious operations. So they manipulate the weather accordingly. They let a few drops fall strategically to make people think it's raining. But it's never the right kind of rain. Or in the right duration. Monsoons don't dump at 9:00pm like their fake rain this summer. They have insulted indigenous intelligence. They underestimate the Cuban mind.

They need a low ceiling and fake clouds to hide the arrival phase of their high-tech war toys. Once they take up their positions in the night sky, their weapon system masquerades as stars. Among these masqueraders appear to be targeting and surveillance systems. High-speed, anti-gravity drones. Tiny scintillators to gauge high energy radiation (electromagnetic waves of "x" and gamma ray, particulate alpha, beta and neutron). What they call ionizing radiation. Electrifying radiation. Inject it into a cloud and super-charge it.

An ion is an electrically-charged atom. In a gas, radiation can make it electric. You can make lightning like that in an artificial cloud and from what I have seen -- do anything you want with it. Hell of a new war toy. Alexandros! We've come a long way from the sarissa. But the omega is a firm guarantee.

Lately due to unwanted publicty, they have panicked and started spraying mega-loads of cover clouds to act as nocturnal duck-blinds. Tanker jets fly up and down the Biscayne Bay dumping their loads all night. They create large cumulus imposters that drift westward across South Miami into the Everglades.

The other purpose of their cloud chemistry is to conduct an electric charge. They also need an electromagetic matrix for their nuclear devices. And atmospheric pea soup is desired for projecting holographic images of backdrop stars and the moon. Think of it as heavy foundation for make-up. The foundation is the false ceiling. And the make-up are stars and moon.

It seems to me that the local astronomy clubs have been briefed about what to tell quizzical students and enthusiasts. Telescopes are made to penetrate into deep space. These fake low ceilings all summer no doubt have piqued curiosity among star-gazers. Because they also have fake constellations for your telescope that are made of scintillators. How gullibe do they think we are about the night sky? Do they assume everybody in Miami is drunk and high?

Back to Katrina. Peter Cordani's invention laments the destruction of 1992's Andrew and offers a "solution" for future storms. These polymers can be used to arrest a hurricane. Then why didn't they arrest Katrina?

Perhaps they have other uses for this invention. Cordani's patent says that there are several unlisted applications for this cloud powder. He didn't list in his patent how the polymer can likewise be used to create a drought -- and subsequent famine anywhere in the world. Sad that the techno-crats held back on the this technology during Katrina. Shame be upon them for that. http://www.freepatentsonline.com/6315213.html

Straight Bolt

2009-09-03T23:02:00.000-07:00

At 0100 I go to the east telescope for a peek at the "stars" over the Bay. Hoist up the blinds to find a dense cloud sprawling the expanse of my vista. It looks like one of those man-made clouds that comes out of the aerosol ports of the local Boeing "night owl" jet. It boasts lightning, so I settle in for the show.

I deem that the cloud is fabricated and so is the lightning. As I watch the entertaining display, to the left of cloud-center I see a tiny black orifice jut out of the cloud. From this orifice comes a straight bolt of lightning that looks like a barbecue skewer. Like those laser sabers from Star Wars. It struck out for the same amount of time that the other "more natural-looking" bolts of lightning did. But it was perfectly straight. Like a white laser beam.

I think that our military/industrial gang is testing a new weapon. And not far from sleeping suburbia. This super-charged cloud hovered motionless in a dead calm slightly south and east of a new housing development.

At 0130 the lightning abruptly ceased. Seemed like a test of man-made lightning. There was nothing natural about the cloud, the lightning or the way it suddenly stopped. Now I see a purpose for scintillators.

For 60 days that I have observed, this fake lightning has been a nightly affair. Flashes of unnatural-looking light and thunderless lightning. Tonight I saw how the embellishing bolts served as a distraction from the one in question. This big cloud was full of lightning I think because they needed plenty of "normal-looking" lightning to distract possible eyes from the laser-lightning they were testing.

I read about particle beams. They seem to be man-made lightning that strikes like a laser with devastating power. In the beam are carried subatomic particles that each act like a separate bullet on impact, displacing their momentum. It can destroy anything with the strike of a lightning bolt. But it has the targeting capability of a laser beam in that it strikes in a straight line. This gadget can be used in our atmosphere and in space. What I saw, however, appeared to be harnessed lightning. Lightning alone does not contain little bullets -- just high voltage. But that's enough to get your attention. Or make you do the high-step.

If you thought your government could selectively pick you off with lightning every time you stepped outside, would it make you a more "compliant" citizen?

Here you go. The zoomies love to toot that horn: http://www.fas.org/spp/starwars/program/npb.htm

No wonder the local military bases have been secretive about the strange things in the sky. Those round, wingless drones are likely nuclear and can hover inside clouds. I have seen them flit from cloud to cloud in the day time and hide inside them. Tonight I think it was the same little anti-gravity UAV's (unmanned aerial vehicles)/drones that were inside that cloud making lightning. I have seen them do it before.

Today's aviation is painfully dependent on technology. Imagine flying by compass in a tail-dragger. Disoriented over blue and azure. Remember Flight 19? "Mayday, Mayday, Mayday..." That's what they get for calling those planes Avengers. Vengeance does not belong to man.

Beam-lightning is a vulgar display of voltage. Children should not play with Daddy's guns. In the hands of men with purchased souls, light-trigger nukes, man-made pestilence, laser snipers, NBCRE and now this -- only spells one thing. That history repeats itself.

It's on the books for those of us who read them. The rest of you keep watching that TV.

Ruse Juice

2009-08-29T08:47:00.000-07:00

Moving with the busy flow of housewives through a supermarket, I pick up a carton of orange juice. Emblazoned all over the carton, mimicking the squeezings of a local grove, are the false promises "PREMIUM 100% Pure Florida Squeezed."

Being in a hurry and not having time to read the microscopic print near the bottom of the carton, I make my purchase. Later that evening upon taking a sip of this assumed juice of Eden, my olfactory judge slams down his gavel. A ruse.

Yet another cruel joke on Middle America whose bodies merit the best nutrition -- because they actually work for a living. The snooty clientele who shop at the yoga-mania places know that anything they pick up in "their" grocery store is bar none. Everything's organic. Don't panic. No need to check the label. It's the best money can buy. For a product to make their inventory list, it better do the high-step.

So here I have this lying carton in my hands in orange, white and green. Beats anything I've ever seen. The lies on this thing. And the crap in my glass. Let's expose these jokers for who they are. At the bottom of the carton in tiny green letters it reads, "Blended with Valencia Orange Juice. From Concentrate and Not From Concentrate." There's the legal coverage for selling lies at Wal-Mart.

Predator industry banks on the working classes being too busy to read their fine print. Predator industry counts on people having too much on their plates to pick through their rice. So they slip you things that you don't know you're eating. They lie to you. Hoodwink you. Sell you things that aren't worth your money.

And put orange liquid in a carton with a motto at the top of "Stay Healthy," while passing off inferior product. These rusers have a carton that masquerades as our favourite local grower's carton. Here is their company name and address in super-fine print: TWS Marketing Group, Inc., P.O. Box 520104 Longwood, Florida 32752 --- sounds like a righteous outfit doesn't it. Here's their web site: http://homemaker-premium.com/

Read your labels America. Find a trusted brand and stick with it. Reward honesty and punish liars. You want a good orange juice in Florida? Here you go: http://www.floridasnatural.com/

Daily Tanker Parade

2009-08-28T00:35:00.000-07:00

In the thick of rush-hour when most people are fighting traffic or stuck in it, these jokers come sneaking inland from the Bay. They are painted up in bogus logos and colour schemes -- trying to pass for

commerical airliners. But they're not. They are tankers full of aerosols heading out over the Glades to dump their daily loads. There they fabricate a ceiling to cast a veil between what goes on above and is kept ignorant below.

Their wing tips are often crimped up. Some look like KC-135's. Their fuselages vary in length and circumference. They look like donations from the airlines that were sent back to Boeing for modifications. Instead of passengers they now haul chemical cocktails that dehydrate and fabricate clouds, spread haze and make metropolitan fog. The possibilities of what else they can "deliver" is extensive.

On the wings you will note six appendages that could pass for wing-flap hinges. No doubt they have those. But they also have aerosol ports near or around the same locations. This is based on observations of them "going at it." Here, have a look.

Fake Firmament

2009-08-25T10:06:00.000-07:00

I'm looking out of a west window into a sleeping city. The ghostly tanker jet flies over like a white owl. His wing-span is gargantuan. Engines -- mute. Boeing's latest and greatest. Heading toward the Glades, asending gradually, he slips into a thick blanket of ceiling -- one that is an illusion even through Steiners.

This morning I saw doubtless ocular proof that what I had hypothesized was correct. The frantic 24/7 Boeing tanker missions (chem-trails) are to lay a fake ceiling around the planet. So that at night you think you're looking into a star-studded Nevada sky. But the stars are fake. And so is the sky.

The backdrop to the moon and stars is an aerosol blanket posing as a clear night. I infer that it is a cocktail of particulate nuke-friendly metals. They are good conductors of electricity and radio frequencies. The dense blanket is also an exellent aerosol base onto which one might project holographic images. The moon never looked so good -- until you see the clouds behind it, oops.

During the "star arrival" and "set up" phase, I notice how the whole star-studded blanket moves around in unison. As though somebody is moving the layout with a computer mouse. During this time it appears that the non-holographic drone-stars are linked-up with the software program and locked into their nightly positions. After this, they move across the sky in sync with their backdrop, mimicking noctural progress of celestial bodies from east to west.

What appeared to me as a Nevada sky in the subtropics was an optical illusion. This explains why my telescopes could not penetrate to deep space. The night sky had cartoon opacity about it and the stars were too close to the earth for true focus. A cream soup of "not quite black enough" to be open space. It had the surreal creepiness of van Gogh's "Starry Night."

Undercurrent

2009-08-24T23:44:00.000-07:00

In some ways, what's being done in the Middle East is the same thing that is being done here. In our so-called "Homeland, " the Wizard seeks to dismantle and demoralize via economic collapse.

For example, the produce growers have been pistol-whipped with fine print designed to cripple them. Many businesses responsible for providing jobs to Americans and producing American goods have been stricken with a wrecking-ball.

The massive unemployment will force more young men into the military war machine. People will get in line at the recruiter's office. Russian roulette is better than no job at all. At least they will get three meals a day and some pay. The Wizard knows how to get fresh meat for his battlefield. He needs "warfighters" to replace the ones who are shooting their psychiatrists and themselves, not just those who go up with car bombs.

Then we have the New Age gang telling us to be happy inside as we succumb, surrender and acquiesce to the flow of existence. The elfin-visaged Eckhart Tolle writes that we should live in the now and yield to the "is'ness" of what is. He stands in the ranks of Gary Zukav, Deepak Chopra, Swami Nithyananda and the Dalai Lama who work in unison to defuse the outrage of a Godly people. The soothing Dr. Chopra writes that Satan is a figment of our imaginations. And Swami Nithyananda charges, "You are God!" -- God help us is what I say.

Division of Labour

2009-08-24T21:02:00.000-07:00

During the course of my six week study, I noticed how these imposter stars have a division of labour. Some appear to be scintillators. Others have a dimmer amber glow that emit telescopic beams of light. These beams look like pointer-lasers that one uses during lectures. Or like those used by military snipers to target nocturnal marks. Others look like distant stars in the background, emitting medium-intensity white light.

In between tanker loads, the sky is clear and I can see the whole enchilada. Some of the scintillating drone-stars shoot vertically to new positions. I have seen them shoot from left to right and straight down the distance of what appears to be a mile. They seem to shoot at almost the speed of light. They look exactly like a shooting star except they do not arc. They move in a perfectly straight line and stop on a dime. To a screeching halt.

During the day they flit from cloud to cloud, purposefully seeking cover. They do not want to be seen. They think they are hiding. And they do from most people. It is hard to see them at those altitudes with the naked eye. But with a good binocular, they cannot escape your peregrine focus.

They travel to their nightly positions just before sunset and take great care not to be seen. They are best described as fast-flying, wingless orbs or spheres. They are a burnished, non-reflective charcoal colour during daylight. But at night they emit high-energy photons.

One evening I saw a scintillator-drone enter a fabricated-looking cloud that was full of lightning. Under this charged piece of work I saw a tanker jet flying back and forth calmly as though none of the lightning was random or dangerous. The jet was directly underneath the cloud.

The monsoon this year has been totally out of whack. There have only been two times since the season began on 7 June, that rain has fallen at the proper time. It is supposed to rain daily between noon and 3pm on this latitude. This summer we have had little rain at all. On weekends you seldom hear a lawn-mower. I noticed today that the rain fell at a strategically-fortuitous time for the worried fake star coordinators. They know that people are curious about their secret project and do all they can to hide it from them. They make it rain when they want to conceal their "operation" above the fake clouds.

The military works hard to be "compliant" with the Wizard's directives. The Air Force and Navy bend over backwards to please him. He says jump and they ask, "how high, sir?" This of course is based on my recent experiences with many interviews. People in government and in the military are petrified with fear when asked about this project. Whoever the Wizard is sure has them doing the high-step. They have been forbidden to talk about it.

I want to give this project a classification like the one they gave the attack on the USS LIBERTY. Or what really happened to John F. Kennedy. Or what really happened to Chief of Naval Operations Jeremy Boorda. The smoking gun is always the forensics. When they stamp a man's autopsy and suicide notes classified -- well, there you go. Let's be very clear. If I was going to shoot myself, I wouldn't shoot myself in the torso. Why are those notes classified? Why can't we see them? What has the Wizard got to hide? What about that autopsy? What was the trajectory of that bullet? What kind of bullet was it?

You see what I mean? So here's what I think. There is great motive for putting a lot of surveillance in the sky. Surveillance that tops what they've had up there for decades. Pictures of the earth and it's surface are no longer enough. The Wizard is worried about what's inside of people's houses. Not all guns are registered in his database. With radiation radar imagery, he can x-ray domiciles. Kind of like they do at airports when you walk through that x-ray zone. The insult with radiation radar imagery is that they can see more than just where your guns are located. They can also see everything else. Truly an eye in the sky.

I think some of those drone-stars might be for surveillance. The scintillators would then be for measuring x-ray beam intensity. You will note that at your doctor or dentist's offices, they use scintillators for the same reason on their x-ray equipment. X-rays are invisible. You cannot feel them when they pass through your body. They are accummulative and can damage cells. You might recall how the dentist puts a lead apron on your body before x-raying your teeth. Ever wonder why?

If this technology is what I think it is -- there is sinister potential. One dose of radiation too much and you're a cancer patient. One rad too many and you have organ failure. Conceivably, sleeping people could be selected, targeted and penetrated with a radiation beams from the stratosphere. Their bodies could be insidiously-diseased or killed outright via such a method. Assassinations would be bloodless, quiet and covert. Fool-proof and risk-free for the assassin. He would enjoy the anonymity of a government executioner.

Unlike the Kennedy job, I feel that assassinations of the future will be carried out via high-tech, unmanned aerial vehicles like the ones not far above me right now. They can be used to thin-out all manner of populations. Radiation can manifest in many "natural-looking" illnesses and deaths.

I may be wrong about this. And hope that I am. But until our government gives us a tenable explanation for what I have witnessed, I have only the scientific evidence at hand. And what science has to say about it from my books.

If what the government has been doing in the night sky between midnight and 0500 for 45 days is nothing to hide, then why do they hide it? And if what they are doing is not nefarious, then why have they forbidden all their people to talk about it? A local FBI agent recently told me that they are forbidden to discuss any military operations.

The word "operation" to me means affront, attack or offensive. That she chose to use the word "operation" sends a chill up my back. I never used that word. It is a word of the war department. Operation Desert Storm -- they poisoned our men with radioactive refuse strewn upon the sand intended for the Iraqi's. To this day they still deny it, this "Gulf War Syndrome". Some operation that was. Operation Garden Plot. Operation Cast Lead. I don't like that word, operation.

Read history. Or be doomed to repeat it. Get yourself some binoculars and look up once in a while. The way a deer hunter shoots his game is by waiting in a tree-stand. Deer never look up. That's why so many of their heads are mounted on people's walls.

Nuclear Physics

2009-08-24T01:59:00.001-07:00

So I'm driving around with the top down. Not a thing in the night sky but stellar imposters pulsing the electromagnetic spectrum at me. Not a single helicopter or plane. Usually the night is populated with noisy, strobing aviation and large jets heading southeast. Now the sky is cemetery-quiet.

This is starkly noticeable as, prior to July, the city was riddled with police and Coast Guard choppers flying their nightly beats. They fly low. And they fly noisy. When they are absent -- you know it. Big cargo-size planes heading out to the island. When they fly over, your whole house knows it.

Since 6 July 2009, I have noticed how all air traffic abruptly stopped. A sudden and total stand-down of all aviation with the exception of 1 - 3 large Boeing tanker jets hushed-down so exquisitely that you can almost "not" hear them when you are standing outside. Directly under them while they make a low pass. On a dead calm quiet night. Gives you some idea. They sprawl across the sky slow and low. And take off at terrific speeds when they detect a lens pointed at them. Their skins look spray-painted white against the street-lamps. That's how low they sometimes fly. I infer this is to avoid hitting the scintillator stars which, by assorted parallax, are not far from the roofs of houses.

I have seen these jets fly at altitudes that I deemed dangerously low -- so low that their fuselage was illuminated by ground lights. I saw the whole jet. It was huge. A big 700-series Boeing. Looked like a 757 with all kinds of new bells and whistles. Clearly they were designed for what they are doing. Specifically engineered. Super quiet, super low. And don't wake the neighbors.

Got me to thinking -- why? Why the stand-down? Is it to protect valued pilots from radiation exposure? Lose one, gotta train a new one. At cost. And it takes flight hours to get it right. They are worth their weight in gold. Gotta protect our pilots. Gotta protect our force. Gotta protect our flight crews. We need them to rule the world from the sky.

Or -- it might be because these flying stars are not far from the ground and they don't want to hazard (a) somebody crashing into them and/or (b) seeing them up close.

Every colour in the rain-bow is pulsing at me from my telescopes. They sit in the sky like stars and try to move along a fabricated orbit. Sometimes they move out of sync with the backdrop and you see the disparity between them and their embellishing neighbors. I infer this is because they have not yet worked all the bugs out of their new technology (navigational and orbit-positioning software). The stars in the background are apparently stellar camouflage for the mobile units in the foreground.

I see them in the sky from just after dark till 0400 at which time they sporadically depart into the north or south. They seem to have an anti-gravity device and are immune to G-forces. Which indicates that they are unmanned. Some leave at almost the speed of light -- like shooting stars. Others glide away in steady lateral trajectories at much slower speeds. Too many shooting stars at once would alert the neighbors. One morning I even saw one with fighter escort flying south along the Bay. They go back to where they came from I suppose -- a hiding place. You know they aren't parking these things next to the KC-135's and Tacamo's.

Must be a secret. Or else they would not spend all night making fake clouds and fog to obscure them. They have tanker jets dump loads of aerosols, frantically working to conceal these round, wingless, fake stars. I see 100's of them over my head as I drive through certain parts of the city. They have demographically-definable areas where they congregate in dense constellations. There they stay all night pusling their scintillators.

Some of the fake stars are posted in familiar constellations. I have seen Orion and the Dippers. The give-away is how they are scintillators, not stars. One can see the electromagnetic spectrum most obviously. According to my engineering books, scintillators measure ionizing radiation (gamma and x-rays).

They have briefed and apparently threatened all local military and police. To my experience, it seems that they have been told to "deny deny deny." The ones who don't deny, either ignore the question or offer fabricated intelligence insults. The others just hang up the phone in what seems like speechless trepidation. To me it appears that somebody has scared these people (air traffic controllers at both military bases and small civilian airports, military watch-standers, police chopper pilots, and anyone who might come into contact with a curious or concerned public).

Scintillators are crystals that express ionizing radiation in pulses of vivid coloured light. They flash every colour in the visible electromagnetic spectrum. Such as this rainbow.

What are they doing to us? Call or write your State, Local and Federal weenies and ask them after you have seen for yourselves what I have seen. Bring it up in your town hall meetings. Nobody here is talking. I've asked everybody who could possibly know.

Get a good binocular (10x mag.'s or higher) and see for yourselves. Steiner makes the best. But Orion has great ones at a fraction of the price. Do not look for binoculars at Wal-Mart or Best Buy. They know that's where most of you will go and they have made sure to not stock ones that will give you a good magnification ($50.00 jobs with low magnification top their list). Go to sporting goods/hunter's shops. They carry the ones worth having.

There is a fine line between hunting animals and hunting men. Ask the war department or a deer hunter. Steiner makes binoculars for both of them. You can see into space with these things. If you never had a binocular -- now's the time to invest in one. There are stange things going on in the sky that merit your observation with reports from other parts of the world that support them.

Air Show

2009-08-20T12:00:00.000-07:00

I have always loved an air show.

Daddy made sure we went to all of them.
The lower, the better. Graze the tree tops fly-boy.

We know girls can't fly like that.

Today there's a new theme in the sky.

"How low can you go??"

Will you do it for the money?

There are two kinds of pilots -- and two only.

Heros and whores.

Spying, Lying and Radiation

2009-08-19T21:38:00.000-07:00

Is there a new hell above? Is the battlefield now a battlespace? Is the sky a computer screen? Have we gone from war games in arcades to fake stars over the Glades. http://web.archive.org/web/20060617082757/www.au.af.mil/au/2025/volume3/chap13/v3c13-6.htm

Let's put up a holographic moon. And a big dipper made of scintillators.

So we name fake terrorists and you either pick them off or stage their killings. That is -- unless -- you accidentally killed your favourite false-flag war ho. That's what you get for letting UAV's run your show. Hit or miss. Nothing like a real pilot, is there.

Fake terrorists. Fake stars. Fake moon. Fake clouds in the afternoon. Fake planets on fake orbits. Low-altitude clothes hangers and coat-racks trying to pass for heavenly bodies. Flying dome-lamps. A
bastardized, camouflage sky.

Do you feel like a bottom-feeder flopping in a dwindling draught pool? Is your boss is a fool?

Pretext

2009-08-06T14:04:00.000-07:00

Here's the pretext for attacking America with NBCRE. In an article by Steven Aftergood, “Hizballah remains the most technically capable terrorist group in the world.” But “Al Qa’ida is the terrorist group that historically has sought the broadest range of CBRN [chemical, biological, radiological, and nuclear] attack capabilities, and we assess that it would use any CBRN capability it acquires in an anti-U.S. attack, preferably against the Homeland.” http://www.fas.org/blog/secrecy/

Defense Intelligence Agency is the source for such statements. First let's get the wording right, DIA, shall we. Wherever the word "defense" is used in our government, we need to use "war." From current events in the Levant, it is offense not defense. Military surge, attack, division, subterfuge, stealth and lies, sabotage of creature comforts in Pakistan, funding and protecting mercenary "terrorists" to make our guys feel like there's a real fight on and to terrorize the local populations out of sheer hatred -- that is the order of the day, Dee Eye Aye.

Baitullah Mehsud and his mercenary band of thugs enjoy funding and protection from our covert war-makers. Mehsud's gang of purchased terrorists "terrorize civilian populations" with random killings and fan the flames of "The Global War on Terror" by shooting at our guys. American war drones bomb and terrorize unarmed civilians all around Baitullah as he carries out his black ops for our secret government. Isn't it strange how our "high-tech warfighers" keep managing not to kill Mehsud? What do you think that might mean? Ignore CNN for a minute and do your own thinking.

The Tactical Mind

2009-07-01T13:47:00.000-07:00

To set the war machine in motion, you need an affront. Somebody has to fire the first shot. Somebody has to draw first blood. Enter September 11, 2001.

With the wind of 9/11 in your back, you don't need a big reason to invade Iraq. Stockpiling weapons of mass destruction sounds good enough. Something the American collective mind can surely get behind. After all, they trust us, don't they?

What's that you say? No weapons of mass destruction were found? Okay. Let's stir up the locals with random acts of violence in diverse places. Then blame it on Al-Easter Bunny. Make sure you put some blood in the street so people can see it. Get press out there while the scene is fresh. Photographers. Videographers.

There are always unscrupulous, desperate people stupid enough to do it for the money. Enlist them. Let's get them out there in the tribal areas, dressing the part. And we'll call them terrorists.

What's that you say? Not enough dead Americans to ship back to their families? Okay, position snipers all over the place. Start picking-off American guys. We can shoot from choppers too, they'll never prove it. Lasers? Sure. We can shoot them again post-mortem if anybody asks. But who would ask? They fear for their wage-slave lives. Let's have a few bloody Muslim corpses. We'll throw them in the street and call them dead terrorists. Snap photos for the press. Blood gets results. Ask our pals Josef, Fidel and Menachim.

When you have all the money and war toys, you can stage any war you want. War is lucrative for you and your corporate remoras while serving more than one purpose. It is genocide against those you hate. Clears coveted lands for your future possession. And reduces the size of the herd in general. What's not to like? All hail the war whores. Arm them with our high-tech stuff and it's low-risk/high pay-off. Reward them well for every kill. Then our homemade war is all downhill.

For the average indigenous Levantine Muslim, he's not your tactical mastermind. Nor is he a rabid suicide-bomber. He has no motive to keep this carnage going. There's nothing in it for him. Unless dying young is the new vogue. In Gaza they were picking off two-year-olds with "descending aorta" bulls-eye shots.

As for those nameless, faceless suicide-bombers, they could be dead behind the wheel before anything goes boom -- or just drugged. Isn't that what Ketamine is for? Vehicular movement and detonation can be effected via remote control. Drones have the sky covered, don't they? Then ground transportation should be a piece of cake.

There are a lot of fingers in this pie. Mercenaries are making a killing on this war. They have done the same before. Remember the Flying Tigers? The Hessians? The Italians right off the ships who were impressed into Union Blue before they could speak English? You think they were fighting for some lofty cause? Today we enjoy the talents of modern mercenaries who are fighting because they like to fight -- and they are good at it. Soldiers of Fortune, gentlemen. They are not an extinct breed. And man is given to a little greed.

Warrior Transition Program

2009-06-28T23:34:00.000-07:00

This makes me wanna puke. There's been a lot of that lately -- things making me want to puke. You can tell by the way they write it up, that the manure is being spread deep and wide. The miasma of their lies is on the rise. It has to nauseate any drug-free, independent thinker. The heavily-pushed prescription drugs of America are necessary to dull the brains of those who can swallow this crap. Hook, line and sinker -- now there's a good chap.

Yeah the military bull is getting deep. And there's more of it piling up all the time. What used to be called "The War on Terror" is now being called "The Global War on Terror." I notice that even down here where few people speak English, they can spell "Global" and emblazon it across their out-sourcing trucks.

Everybody is trying to have "Global" in their title. Companies, businesses, food distributors, government contractors, consulting giants, you name it -- they all want to be international and global so that the plutocrats who own everything will let them see another sunrise. I have never seen such a desperate, groveling mass of sycophants and toadies in my life. Oh how they sicken me.

The gag-reflex-evoking verbiage on their "Warrior Transition Program" riles the ire of Lady Columbia. Makes her want to swing a pole ax and howl, "Bitch please!" This bogus gibberish is designed to brain-wash the "expendables" into thinking that they were doing something right over there. Selfless service to "this great nation" indeed. "This great nation?" Is that what they are calling us now? Or is that just to to pacify our overridden war horse. He on the tip of the sarissa being jabbed into the sore spot, looking for a fight. Pity the woe-hoss who has taken on the yoke of this, our great shame. Pity the man saddled with our bloodied, sullied oriflamme now.

I read from the rest of the world how they refer to us as The Americas, The North American Union, The New World Order, the New Socialist Republic, The Bolshevik Ree-lapse, The High-tailing Stern of the Titanic, whatever -- pick one. "This great nation?" That's gotta be a psychiatric term to calm the addled, marching hoards. They are sweating it over the battle-pawns whipping out a heater at their next counseling session and with good reason. Our war-horse has been duped and Bucephalus is not amused. They better duck.

Counseling-schmounseling. Social Workers. Freudian advisors. These are probably the same jokers who wrote the "psy-ops" used to torture babies at Waco before they were gassed and burned in their mothers' arms, psycho-torture for abductees at Abu Ghraib, Afghanistan's Bagram, "El Presidio Americano Guantanamo," and other hell-holes like them scattered all over the world. Water-boarding ring a bell? In our name they have unleashed hell -- while they have religious non-combatants in uniform providing "pastoral care" in a Godless society. Imagine that. Guantanamo must be crowded to bursting by now. Good thing our Navy is so cuddly with Cuba's communist regime. They may acquire additional prison space on the Isle of Pines. But if they don't, tiger sharks keep secrets.

They should rewrite this epicac-drivel. Because it only adds injury to an insulted military mind, http://www.necc.navy.mil/programs/wtp.htm

They are feeling out the "troops" to see how close they are to snapping -- the ones who saw the pink mist in particular. Once they see it, once they smell it -- they will never be the same. Here's one of the "medical ghouls" bragging about the carnage he has witnessed. Looks like they were using heat-seekers to pick off these guys http://www.youtube.com/user/Smokepole. There is no way that these were regular sniper rounds. Yeah, this is the pink mist that Lewis Puller, Jr. wrote about. And the shrinks know it. Because they have had other "unfortunates" to study from past wars. They have written training manuals about it for future shrinks. Only the densest, simplest knuckle-dragger who has never had a thought for himself will come back unscathed. Any man with a moral compass has to know what this is about and has to know that it is wrong.

I don't even think of it as a war. For it to be a war there has to be two sides fighting about something. Here we have a one-sided massacre. It's no war, it's genocide. "Global" genocide according to the new title of the siege. They are killing-off Muslims, pure and simple. Just like they did in Bosnia. It's a Muslim blood-bath. Notice how it started in Gaza like a case of tinea corporis. Now it's raging in Afghanistan. They were drone-bombing women and children in Pakistan not long ago under our smeared flag and in our name. They made over a million Pakistani refugees. They planted fake terrorists in Pakistan to keep the fight going. Give the Pakistanis something to worry about and something to fight. Stretch them over a barrel with mercenary criminals on the take from our crooked Central Intelligence Agency in cahoots with their Indian toady counterparts. Just like that botched case of home-made terrorism in Mumbai on November 26, 2008. How gullible do they think people are?

Amid all this wrong-doing, our expendable troops are pitted against an assigned enemy who never offended them. I saw how some blow-hard was goading Iraqi "militarized" police to hunt down and pick fights with their own countrymen. He was using a translator to chew them out for not taking up arms against their own people. This is the pattern they seek to enforce wherever the fungus of this "Global War on Terror" spreads next. They invade, occupy and subjugate whatever Middle Eastern Country is next on the chopping block. They try to get the country's police and military to wage a war against its own people under the aegis of "The Global War on Terror" by fabricating internal conflict, strife and discord. But the kicker is they have yet to show us a single terrorist.

War on Terror? Dude! Don't we need to see a terrorist first? Since 2001 I have had better luck with sightings of the Easter Bunny. It is piquant to note that in the Year 2000 Anno Domini, there was a curious book published by Robert A. Jensen, entitled Mass Fatality and Casualty Incidents: A Field Guide. I believe it was the only one of its kind at the time. How convenient for Jensen that on the heels of his book hitting the streets, two commercial airliners hit the Twin Towers. Hmmm.... I tried to get an interview with Jensen about his book but he avoided me like I was Yersinia Pestis. And his secretary had a torpedo attitude.

Makes you wonder why they are flying loads of Muslim men and boys to the Communist prison island of Cuba when they have yet to show us the first terrorist. These Muslims are being held without charge in a Navy prison at Guantanamo Bay. Is it to just get them out of the way? Less of them to take up arms and defend their homes I suppose. Less of them to save the day. Cuba is a viciously-guarded island and nobody can hear them scream. Islands are great for prisons. There is no place to run. No place to hide. Kind of like Google Earth surveillance. The Navy jailers at Guantanamo Bay are either dupes or cancerous with guilt.

Put yourself in the place of the Mujahideen. One day you're living your Muslim life, minding your own business and the next you're staring down the barrel of a foreign, invading military force. Cowardly, unmanned drones rain bombs from the sky at two in the morning -- under the cover of darkness, Abaddon's signature cloak -- killing your wife, kids, and neighbors. On another burner they have false-flag operations cooking up a storm -- bombing your schools and mosques. So-called suicide bombers blowing things up, smearing Islam with random acts of violence. What would you do? Lay down and take it? Or defend your Mayberry R.F.D.? I wouldn't have to think about what I would do. And I'm not a Muslim.

I can read. The Qur'an comes in English, did you know that? God's people would never pull the stuff that is being done in the Middle East right now in their names. Such acts of abomination would be to them, spiritually, like falling on their own swords. They fight the good fight. They don't engage in treachery, subterfuge, "setting up partners," intrigue, false-flag or black-ops. They will meet you in the desert, look you in the eye and stand their ground. In your mind, make their town your town. Put yourself in their saddle. Now it's a horse of another color.

In Vietnam, they drafted working class boys and urban poor to shoulder the carnage of a fabricated war. They thrust guns into their callow hands and let "kill or be killed" pilot the day. These young men had no choice but to do or die. Many came back, missing limbs, to face the music of a disgusted nation. Talk about insult and injury. Today, we have an all-volunteer force you might think. But many were squeezed into battle from an economic wine-press by design. Plays right into the Wizard's hand. Think for yourselves. Do the math.

Invasion of Iraq Jack. Think back. Wasn't that done on the pretext of "they are stockpiling weapons of mass destruction?" Well don't you think that our guys have figured out that was a lie by now? And don't you think that while they are being pitted against these poor, framed Muslims that many of them are tortured squeezing off rounds into them -- taking the lives of innocent men who have every right to defend their homes and families as our pioneers and patriots have done against such invaders from our past?

Hell yes. So naturally, the shrink team is gearing up their bogus pabulum to feed our mentally-wounded, morally-rattled men. What else can they do? They have created monsters for us all. With unquenchable fires of regret. A raging Forrestal.

As for weapons of mass destruction? Check the U.S. Department of Transportation's 2008 Emergency Response Guidebook (a manual to First Responders for Dangerous Goods/Hazardous Materials Tranportation Incidents). This manual covers tanker-loads being trucked from Mexico to Canada and every point between, coast-to-coast and in every cardinal direction. Listed under their "dangerous goods" are blood and nerve agents designed to kill en masse within seconds (100% aerosol delivery), blister agents, tear gas, biological warfare pathogens, poison flue dust, fast-killing poisons galore, white phosphorus, oxydizers, and all the stuff presently being sprayed into our stratosphere from KC-135 tanker jets -- areosol chemicals bastardizing our clouds, raping the rain, and crippling the monsoon. What's raining, however, are dead birds and honey bees. So spare me the lame drivel, bitch please.

He Lied

2009-04-01T20:45:00.000-07:00

Obama gives us lip-service in recent news about how 9/11 is a pretext for picking fights with Muslims. I do not feel heartened by this man at the helm of my government. I long for a bull-in-china-shop potentate. A president who, once in the saddle, leads from the front -- with zero regard for the man behind the curtain. President Obama made promises at my university that he has not kept. I expect a man to be one of his word.

Now I read where he is moving the sharp stick that he's been poking around in Iraq over to Pakistan and Afghanistan so he can pick fights with more Muslims. The outrageous lie that Muslims had something to do with 9/11 is still being fed to people around the world. This stubborn lie needs to be exposed for what it is. When is somebody going to write it in the sky?

The twin towers were bleeding thermate before they uniformly collapsed. This catastrophe was carefully planned and people who were conveniently not there to die that day had early warning. All this has been exposed and many know the truth. So why the sickening push to pin this evil deed on an Islamic jihad? It is unlikely that the rag-tag Taliban would employ a sophisticated, covert demoliton enterprise that encompassed the twin towers and a third large building that was also demolished nearby.

If Obama wants a jihad on his hands -- he shall have one now. But your sons will bite the dust over it. People in Afghanistan, Pakistan, Iraq and Iran have every right to defend their homeland when it is being invaded, occupied and subjugated by hostile foreign forces. Doubly do these Muslims have a reason to stand their ground after having been slandered up and down by a less-than-lily-white governement who dares to accuse others of corruption.

It is nauseating to hear Obama use words that aren't his own like, "disrupt, dismantle and defeat." It makes me wanna puke. That he has to reach back that far and pull Osama bin Laden's name out of his hat is the lamest of the lame. Still playing the blame-game. Still telling Americans to search for the corner of this round room that has no end. Round and round you all go -- like a dog chasing his tail. There is not a single shred of evidence tying bin Laden to 9/11. And NOBODY found the guy who mailed anthrax bio-terror either. How convenient.

I'm getting tired of this game of dodge-ball in the Levant. Every time somebody gets hit with the ball they come back in a casket. Big government contractors like Boeing-Boeing-Boeing (3/4 of the world's aircraft, space stations, warheads, if it flies, they make it, name it), URS Corporation (builders of 100's of American prison camps not yet occupied), Stavatti Aerospace (makers of laser assault rifles, bomber and surveillance drones and unmanned fighter planes), Babcock & Wilcox's Pantex (these jokers make nuclear bombs in Amarillo, Texas), and Battelle (cooking something contagious in a lab near you) are getting filthy rich on the blood of your sons. All the engines of the war machine are lining their pockets with American tax dollars by the billions. The saints who design warheads, fighter jets, torpedoes, nukes and cook up bio-terror are on the take. Along with the chemical companies who make nerve gas and cyanide. They know that war is their business -- and business is good.

However, honest, hard-working Americans who make their living doing something good have lost their jobs, their homes and sense of self. While our lying leadership leads our sons and husbands to slaughter, those on the home-front experience what nobody has seen since the Great Depression. All this while Obama works hard to start WWIII by dragging into his fabricated war Russia, China and Muslim-loathing India.

It's all the same crap. And the big lie that we've been told is coming into clearer focus every day. More blood for Israel is on the way.

The Gloat Factor

2009-03-19T20:10:00.000-07:00

9 - 11 March 2009, I got hit with Associated Press-written news about how folks were going on killing rampages all of a sudden and businesses large and small were bellying-up from sea to shining sea.

The killings were of course all done with guns so they called the shooters gunmen. The gunman did this. The gunman did that. Heavy emphasis on the guns. We have that part. How about a little more on motive? The AP journalist writes that a gunman walked into a church and shot the preacher who held up his Bible in reflex. There seemed a sinister delight in telling us how the Bible turned to confetti and fluttered down around the preacher.

The bland quotes from the congregation made the people seem predictable and dull. There was nothing dynamic about the story save the shooting itself, the shower of confetti, and the mocking quote about how the congregation was "screaming and praying." The AP journalist got a lot of mileage out of the confetti Bible. It read to me like the writer was gloating over the news -- light years apart from the tragedy. He wrote like he was far removed from the gravity of the event, as though he enjoyed a sinister immunity. To me the story had the mild flavor of ridicule.

So too was the news about a similar senseless killing rampage in Alabama. This man went 'round shooting folks on a spree. He killed relatives and random people before committing suicide. Again the word "gunman" was used over and over with bland quotes from locals larding the text. A matter-of-fact nonchalance pervaded the story. There was a lack of empathy and compassion from the writer. It was like she was writing a grocery list.

Then I get to the piece about how Circuit City was saying goodbye. Again there seemed a pevading theme of gloating ridicule. Like "ha ha, you American businesses are going down, jack. And you're never coming back." The gloom and doom that rains upon the American economy seemed to delight this writer. It read to me like he was gleeful to write about how Circuit City's sky was falling. If a store that has been 60 years part of our American lives can fold on a dime and "be left broom clean and vacant," what does that say about other small businesses?

The AP writer gloats on about how store employees were saying their last goodbyes as the place was getting "fleeced" of all its inventory. Amazing how deep into visual details this guy went to describe the sad scenes of our failing economy, wringing every last pathetic scene from the now jobless employees down to the makeshift signs outside of the store.

Throughout this text like some kind of carnival side-show, there were long lists of retailers and businesses that were going under. Like, "come jeer at who else in America is losing their *sses." That's what I got from it -- the way the piece was arranged and lain out. The list was so long that I had to finally abandon the tour. It seemed that everyone was on it. The question to ask was "who was not on it?" I felt that this list would have been the shorter one.

The "gunman rampage" stories were laid out similarly, larded with carnival picture-shows of other outlandish acts of crime that have shocked people lately. Like "isn't this all so entertaining?" I realise that these AP writers were marching to the tune of somebody above them who approves and encourages such journalism.

It is journalism like this that makes me glad that mainstream newspapers are doing so well at the moment.