Mobile Audit Club
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Segment 11-21-2007: TRIANGULATE_45_two_BENS_true_TRAVEL
In Quasi-Moto fashion I recall the equinox line on Earth of Ben to Ben. Ben Cofield alleged name of alleged wandering Jew from Long Island New York who definitely ate from garbage cans if he ate at all, and his pickup locale was Just to the East of Denver Colorado in the MASA travel triangle. Then there is little Ben Stanford, alleged grandson of an alleged State Senator, and Ben's death I may have witnessed in the ugly covert overt wars, in the M, BS,T triangle. I met them in two travel sequences, travel triangles I call them.
So I draw the line from East Denver and trace it to Kansas City in Motion, and draw the tangent to that little Highway in Lincoln Alabama, to my favorite parking lot gas station on the Talladega side of the Interstate skirting Birmingham and Atlanta.
The line from the middle of the Denver to KC line is the road leading to Braman, and the road to Braman intersects the Denver to KC line at the 45 degree line in Lincoln Alabama. The night that I was almost hit by a meteorite near Braman Oklahoma in 2004 and as viewed from the side of the highway the galaxies Angulatum and Andromeda were at 45-degrees angles from the horizon and nearly inclined toward the possible point of origin of the control of that exploding meteorite or rocket, and ironically though an Air Force base was or is due West nearby. The angle from Braman OK to Mobile AL is also at a 45-degree angle. What can I conjecture from the death and the odd instance of aduction, execution, and re-make of the dropped off carcass of Ben Stanford, from Lincoln AL to Villa Rica GA? If I draw the lines now, do you want to play a game? They say it was my birthday, because it was on the night of the exploding meteorite or rocket, or whatever it was in 2004. It is ironic that it came from the same direction as the alleged Ames OK meteorite most likely did, or looking at the marks, they made an x, Bramans from the West to South West, Ames from the North to North West. I suppose we also shine on odd days, like the two Bens who I feel I witnessed as two men. What is it in my eye? Senator Preuitt open the door of Mobile Alabama government to me till I die. My armoire will have your initials on it, right next to the two Bens. (watch this, never heard from again. We are nothing. Political laugh.)
Segment_11_18_2007_Comedy_ True _USA_No_Belief_USA_Government_Dead_Play
A nerve-racking incident occurred one night, I dived, I died. Then I died again and again and again and again and I forgot how many times I died or who I was. As I walked down the street in my later years and put my hat on, I felt no hair between my scalp and my hat. A voice said, "Hmm, that felt strange".
I put on my socks and shoes and another voice said, "Hell, that's all her wrote".
Then I looked out my window and remembered who it was I forgot and who forgot me and my heart sank and my throat swelled and I saw the vacant faces of the masses, and the master with his appeasement, his wealth our servitude.. We no longer feel what we did for each other in the state of delirium past, but it is rekindled like time never passed when the needle sticks in my arm against my will, against our will, and I seem to be the only one who discusses it publicly. see Continuing Problems section LA VA 1999, my horror in 2001 as the ruling regime in its war faction had me held down and injected. Had I not worked as a FDIC bank examiner, I would not have recalled the death, most likely, and I definitely would not have been forcibly injected repeatedly. I have a strange injection hole in my chest Mr Federal F-ck and I saw another veteran showing his, just next to the sternum. Perhaps Jacob's Ladder is real, that death and life experience. Put the $9.11 Million next to the FDIC hole, Ms. Federal approved F-ck, or Alabama Sheriff's department associates of the Snatch Klan and DO NOT THREATEN ME WITH A GUN AGAIN AS I AM WALKING. The Holster was tan like the Sheriff's are issued.
They take our guns and threaten us. We are ruled by an international regime of sh-t. Negative capitalists creme forte is slavery any ole way. Slavery on many levels, international. Primitive in some quarters.
If we leave our children to lesser minds, they will become more like those lesser minds. Public school Class size is overwhelming and a truancy arena, financing for technology tools inadequate. Now for the comedy, Imagine if you die. Imagine that nothing changes and you recall only a small incident of that day, an aberration of what was in that sequence, and a new sequence, a new day with a whole history to remember and play. Imagine a growing organism, you and I inside. The doors swing in out, and out in but you and I are still inside something.
I could speculate on how one feels in time immemorial as a teacher would, but not even I can discern truth from lie at all times, which is why we need to inspect the master, the government in our native cities, in many cases closed to inquisitive investigations. You should inspect everything and demand a voice. They have taken away our constitution for our daring to bear arms, for our daring to speak to them, the monied caste, the sh-t of our era, the Negative Capitalists. We should eliminate them for a price. No holds barred in the big money game. Now that is a G-d Damn comedy, the warmonger who has "The Best" weapon or method survives. "The Best".
Segment 11-17-2007 SPACE_weapon_BODY_recompose_MURDER_made_SUICIDE_ben_FDIC
I have come to the conclusion of high probability, 70%, that the ruling regime in the world is killing people and they have a method of making the body look like a suicide. The strange thing about this is that a man can be killed with several gun shot wounds, or a knife to the heart or throat and then on autopsy show one shot to the head.
I know of a regional FDIC director in San Francisco most likely killed and made to look like a suicide in the 90's. Billions of dollars were involved and when I was working there as a bank examiner for the FDIC in 1999-2000 I saw money laundering at affiliate offices and banks in California. The ruling regime, the enemy to mankind, tried to silence me, including injecting me with chemicals.
I also know of a Senator's Grandson, a Ben Stanford who was allegedly a suicide, and I do not believe them, a 70% probability that something else happened to him, murder, a vendetta or someone or thing moved him from out of the way for future take-overs.
We the common do not have control, I am beaten like a lower caste citizen in Alabama by the enemy in power, I am forcibly injected by federal money launderers in LA, and abused and injected by federally approved profiteers who are part and parcel of the ruling regime in power and I want them peppered with holocaust spray when we eat their ass alive, or I want my 9.11 Million dollars for what I endured. I would prefer their deaths so my family does not ever risk suffering the tortures of those lesser beings in power on this day.
Ironically on the night of the disappearance, in the same parking lot adjacent to where Ben had bought gas that morning, I bought gas that night and a man was obviously being killed in a parking lot next to the gas station, Texaco, on I-20 in Lincoln Alabama at around midnight, 12:34 am. A few days later Ben was found dead.
Of course it could be the superpowers fighting it out, whoever they are. They have stepped all over me, injecting me, beating me from government, so I hope they kill each other, and if we die, death is better than life as a lesser to a being who is a lesser being than ourselves.
Now theoretically, how could it be done? If I saw a man with the white baseball cap in the car who was Ben being stabbed and then shot, as detailed below in the section with "BEN" in the segment header, then how it could be done would require high tech gadgetry that could move time back or an organism back to its time at an earlier state, thereby making the body look like a suicide when it is shot with one bullet. The body could be torn up fairly bad and then reconstituted for the "Silver Bullet". Of course, the entire government could be a scam. They do not allow us in. Their media is part of them, our enemies to the death, let us hope it is all of their deaths and we rise from their degradations. It is not nice to inject innocent humans with chemicals. It is like taking a shot in the mouth, like a rape victim under a lowly beast.
The government of the USA has a ruling faction that is cruel and heartless. They injected me and tore my life to shreds. But they killed a former FDIC bank examiner regional director like I suspect that Ben may have been killed.
They rape us with chemicals and laugh like insane children. I welcome the end of their time, and ours if necessary. They are not humane or just and are akin to lesser beings, like worms. Welcome any war that gives us relief. Man kind could be a slave to this planet. The technology I speak of would likely be controlled from space. Of course, your guess is as good as mine, and sometimes the simplest explanation is the most correct, but we do live in the age of technology and increasingly technological weapons.
How is it done? I am not sure, but from space volume and distance ratios would have to be considered. Or perhaps there is in fact two of everything, and they can swap out the carcasses, one suicide, one murder..
On that latter possibility, I would like to elaborate. The matter anti-matter complex presents an interesting enigma. Now if could through centrifugal force extract the second body from the first, then one would have at their avail, a body to tamper with and a body to swap, in the event of the chewing up of the first body. Now to do this, time time frame of space would likely have to be encapsulated or re-enacted in some manner. Things are never as bad as they seem is what one old woman told me. She knew perhaps there is a disconnect from the envisioned life and the actual material life, hence the saying by Poe, "Life is but a dream within a dream", ah yes, and excuse me while I scratch this apparition out, in tandem duo, duo, do over.
Support the overthrow of the regime and the revealing of their new war time technologies. I spit blood after going to Judge Michael McMaken's court in Mobile Alabama. I would like to welcome his kind to spit in my face in the coming war or to cause me to spit blood with their new weapons. I hope our people tear him or IT back to Bohemia in thirty nine pieces. Mankind is better off dead than under the filth of the regime. Racism is promoted. It is a distraction from the greater subjugation of mankind. Their history is likely a fabricated lie or not mentioned. The they I speak of is those controlling this new weapon(s).
Guns are only good at the cave man prison earth level, and of limited efficacy. The regime uses the simple possession of the guns against us. I will laugh my self to death in their bucket of tears and blood soon to contain their head.
As an aside, we are borne in luke warm water, what can we expect? Freezing or boiling afterward. Some say my vehicle I call my Truk, is like Stephen King's Christine. I have stepped over death in 2001, driven through radiation in 2004, driven through exploding meteorite dust in 2004, endured forced injections and torture in 2001 and 2004, dodged projectiles shot at me next to the vehicle in 2007, and I was blinded partially while in exile while I owned the vehicle. I am considering selling it and will announce it on this site if I do. It is a collectors item, it has a lot of miles, I have lived a lot, and it is good for many more miles. Use her in a demolition scene in a movie. Remote control into a closed door government meeting, and put a logo on the dash, "Mobile Audit Club". I acquired the name Saint Ram Bone in the vehicle. It is too bad Chrysler was stolen to the Germans in 2001-2003 when the current regime came to power. I bought it before that occurred. How many times have I bought it? Death among the enemy is like washing your face with vitamins.
Also, I would not be surprised to see that North Korea was taken over by the regime of war and subjugation of humans just recently. Watch Sacramento.
Segment 11_15_2007 comedy_RAZZLE_dazzle_SNATCH_fairy_POSSUM_san_FRANCISCO_festival
My name is Kurt Brown, alias Saint Ram Bone, former bank examiner and formerly a reporter who chased criminals in government. I have come to a new conclusion. It's toast. So, I recently drew several triangles in my travels, and in between meteorites and unexplained deaths and the crustacean we call the USA government in its closed faction, a corroded mask hinged together through collusion, and we are on the out, or AM I, or we? So for fun, I take Sheriff Jack "Snatch The Fairy Possum" Tillman, formerly of Mob AL, for a ride to San Francisco in this segment.
Scene: Snatch and Saint Ram Bone who is the buck toothed big balled visitor for the dark side and the light side, are crossing the Bay Bridge in Kurt's Truk. Snatch is part man and part possum, he can not see it, but we can. You must realize that even we are different, we all are and Snatch is like any ordinary man, a composite being, he can not help that his composite is that of a swamp borne marsupial. Snatch likes to Snatch or take things and he certainly can't help his sexual orientation, as that is much more trivial than his labored habit to Snatch every damned thing he sees and can get his possum grip upon. Snatch also has fly wings, so he can fly, not far, much like a chicken or wounded locust and even though he plays dead like a possum, he can run like a scolded cat. Int the Truk on the Bay Bridge of San Francisco coming from Oakland.
Saint Ram Bone (SRB): "Snatch, you have got to bath at the YMCA when we get San Francisco."
Snatch: "Sometimes I smell like that when I play possum." "It helps with the fleas".
Scene: Snatch wiggles his nose and digs under his left arm pit using his right front paw.
SRB: "Snatch, please cut that out!" "That really stinks and scabs are falling out"
Scene: Snatch scrapes up all of the crumbs and puts him into his mouth.
SRB: "You know, I think you are the most disgusting vermin I have had the displeasure to acquaint with"
Snatch: "Pull over. I'm going to vomit"
SRB: "You can vomit at the cannabis club"
Snatch: "Pull over right cheer, I am going to vomit"
SRB: "No can do compadre, Snatch the Fairy Possum is not going to escape my electric chair by jumping out of the truck and accidentally committing suicide falling off this bridge.
Snatch: "Pull over right cheer, I am going to vomit"
Scene: SRB looks over his shoulder and out the window and asks to the creator
SRB: "Why?" "Why in the Hell, am I cursed to travel with vermin like Snatch on the unending quest to rid the world of malicious vermin?" "I don't even like the Milky Way Galaxy" "Why? Why am I stuck here?"
Scene: SRB and Snatch approach the cannabis club in San Francisco and are parking the Truk. Snatch is still picking and eating his scabs, mites, lice, and ticks. His Sheriff's badge from Alabama still stuck to his chest, in its meaningless display of 'flash'
Snatch: "Pull over here, I am going to vomit"
Scene: SRB exits the truck slamming in into park.
SRB: "Get the f-ck out of my Truk." "G-d d-mn you are disgusting". "I will have to de-lice the seat so I can sleep tonight".
Scene: Snatch gets out of the truck and starts to vomit.
Snatch: "There is a fly all over my vomit".
SRB: "Come on Snatch, let the flies eat, sh-t".
Scene: Snatch starts running behind SRB and is dragging his sprained leg and picking his Possum nose with his possum finger. SRB shows his ID from Dr. Butt Finger to the door man.
Doorman: "Come on in, Saint" "Our special today is Maui Waui, and don't forget to get your free rice crispy space cake and some mocha java."
SRB: "Mmmm Sounds scrumpdillyishus with a Jamaica Shake."
Snatch: "Milk Shake"
Scene: The door opens and the doorman allows the Saint and Snatch into the cannabis club and gives them the vapors face, a sort of smile with the mouth contorted in a dead figure 8. They go to the second floor, and inside, tables are arranged, a window is open on the second floor and the coffee table with fruits and teas is to their right, and to their left is the cannabis counter and menu. A woman greets them, a sweet Carol.
SRB: "Hello my dear" "I am back and looking for something good to eat". "Snatch here would like to have a delicious Fairy Possum Treat"
Snatch: "Milk Shake"
Carol: "Ah, Luke!" "It has a Snatch the Peary Pussum face"
Scene: Carol reaches across the counter to shake Snatch by the chin.
Scene: Carol pulls back her hand and wipes it on a cloth behind the counter.
Carol: "This Fairy Possum sure kind of stink".
SRB: "He does that. He thinks it makes him peculiar"
Carol: "Does it think it maybe it sh-t in it's pants?"
SRB: "It made me aware of the possum trance"
Carol: "Possum trance?"
SRB: "It makes you aware that he stinks so bad, that it might be dead, and it reminds you of your own death"
Snatch: "Come up for air" "Give some head?"
Carol: "What, are you insulting me?"
SRB: "He is not as sane as it used to be". "He steals, watch him!"
Scene: Carol slaps Snatch's hand as he slowly sneaks his paw up to reach for the psychedelic breath mints and possum looks at SRB.
Snatch: "Watch em"
Carol: "What will it be today Saint, we have twelve varities of shake, twenty four varieties of bud and the usual accompaniments of space cakes"
Scene: Mr. Bow Bone, the proprietor of the establishment approaches holding his cane on his wrist and wearing his beanie cap of many colors and speaking in a very flaming manner with a fake lisp about Snatch.
Bow Bone: "Carol, watch the cash register, the last time this character was in here he popped the money drawer"
Carol: "You don't say"
Scene: Snatch looks around on the ground.
Snatch: "Used to be some nickels down here. No more".
SRB: Give me three Maui Waui Mochas, two rice crispy space cakes, and a mocha Java.
Snatch : "Don't forget about Slim!"
SRB: "Snatch, I don't know Possum, I mean, you took my gun permit on 4-3-2001 when I was going to report your starving of the inmates at the Mob AL jail, you assisted the federal war criminals in government in setting me up so I could be forcibly injected, you let money launderers and murderers walk free as a result, and I was on top of the phase shift war technologies, and last but not least, you came across my dash board at the dog-gone intersection, you "Snatch" "Snatch the Fairy Possum-Shee-it". Now, Why would I buy you anything when you might be Satan"
SRB: "What did you say to me"
Snatch: "Cripple queer"
Bow Bone : "All right, now ain't that clever" "You come here trying to pick a fight, the last time you stole my cash" "I bet you would be a bone robber of graves if you had the stamina to dig a deep hole."
Snatch: "Cripple queer, grab a beer"
SRB: "Ah, forgive it. He is a simple. I like to pimp him here
and yonder and use him to catch flies and crooked criminal politicians."
Snatch: "Crippled queer like Snatch the Fag Eating Possum"
Scene: Snatch jabs his paw into his own snout of a mouth.
SRB: "Give the crippled queer a Snatch the Fairy Possum milk shake, hold the vanilla, double the THC extract, and explain to me why Braman cut Snatch the Fairy Possum's tail off and jammed it up his rumpus?
Bow Bone: "Oh that one". "The last time you left him here, the queer possum here got into with Braman over a space cake left on the table over there." "Snatch took off and his tail was visible through the door."
SRB: "Well how did his get ass burned?"
Snatch: "Burnt me up"
Bow Bone: "He used a Steinel Heat gun. That thing is like a blow torch."
SRB: "Ah Ha!" "That explains the rumpus looking a little charred."
Scene: A sparrow flies into the window and starts to chirp and eat the crumbs on the counter.
To Be Continued:Stay Tuned for our next travel to the Mob Al Government, so sing along in Karaoke, or try to, to the rewritten version of "We are off to see the Wizard."
We're off to Mob AL Meetin
(Follow the Mob Chock-block road)
(Link to mp3 version of song, so sing along).
Follow the Mob Chop-block road. Follow the mob chop-block road.
Follow, follow, follow, follow
Follow the Mob Chop Block Road
Follow the Mob Chop Block, Follow the Mob Chop Block
Follow the Mob Chop Block Road
We're off to the government meeting, The terrible meeting of Mob AL
You'll find they are a mob of a mob! If ever a mob! there was.
If ever oh ever a Mob! There was a terrible Mob of one because,
Because, because, because, because, because
Because of the terrible things the Mob does
We're off to the government meetin. The terrible meeting of Mob AL
We're Off To See The Wizard
(Follow the Yellow Brick Road )
Follow the Yellow Brick Road. Follow the
Yellow Brick Road.
Follow, follow, follow, follow,
Follow the Yellow Brick Road.
Follow the Yellow Brick, Follow the Yellow Brick,
Follow the Yellow Brick Road.
We're off to see the Wizard, The Wonderful
Wizard of Oz.
You'll find he is a whiz of a Wiz! If ever a Wiz! there was.
If ever oh ever a Wiz! there was The Wizard of Oz is one because,
Because, because, because, because, because.
Because of the wonderful things he does.
We're off to see the Wizard. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.
November 8, 2007 Segment: THEORY_of_SPACE_projected_INJECTED_lie_DEATH_plex_BEN
Late update, it was deemed that the Senator's Grandson, Ben Stanford, committed suicide with a .25 caliber gun. His body found behind Home Depot, his vehicle left on the highway. Something strange is happening here, very strange. I heard shots the night I was in Talladega/Lincoln Alabama and a car fled. Perhaps someone else was shot. Not a good omen to buy a nice place to retire and hide from the worlds ape men. Here is the link to Ben's suicide information. I am very suspcious about this, and wonder what has really happened, both in the gunfire and Talladega and what has happened to the Senator's grandson.
Please note: About Ben Stanford, talked of in this segment, he was found dead, I had just linked this song by Anggun "Garde Moi" on Youtube to this site, when he was found. Ironies. I am glad he was found for the parents sake. The gas station I mention was in Lincoln, not Talladega, per checking the receipt, and my gas purchase was around 00:34 on the morning of 11-6-2007. Ironically too, the time would also be classified as 12:34 a.m. Perhaps Sheriff Jack Tillman or his replacement remember 4-3-2001 when Sheriff Jack Tillman took my gun permit when I was going to enter the closed door government of Mobile AL. I was turned back. I was going to report his food funds thievery and inmate malnutrition. I reported it to the federal government in LA when I was arrested in 2001 for being in fear for my life and owning a gun after FDIC employment. They injected me and tortured me. I hope the next dead are not the young but the enemies allowing forced injections and the decimation of our people. The strong arm dictatorship should wipe their tears and not blink their eyes when they are flipped and snapped in two. They do not care about us. The card flipped again Jack, 4-3-2-1, 1-2-3-4. It is fairly simple in the measured game. I was at the end of the third triangle you federal international war criminals and MMM Mack and shining crew of the federal international dictatorship. I travel triangles. It was ironic the young man was found dead behind Home Depot in Villa Rica GA because next to him to his East was S Carroll Road and to his North East was Bankhead way, and both names bring back bank examiner memories detailed on this site, and as always the sticks of Hickory are hard and always when there is a dead man, there is a Masa sh-t. Try Five Points to start is my direction to the Private Dick-Eye crew, of course flip it, who knows. Sue Carroll ARD and George Masa RD at FDIC told me to drop an EEOC compliant or be terminated from FDIC in 2000. I told her no and that I would shine a light over her head when she told me I was terminated. She made me promise not to tell. What a joke. The EEOC never heard my case, they refused. They were more upset or fearful of their or its syndicate of money launderers being exposed and their dullards awakened and they shut us out of the beneficial sector of overlooking our economy. Are we shut outs or Shut ins Ben? It's all putrid don't you think? Nothing a deep cleanse and debridement wouldn't put on the road to cure. We should overthrow the negative capitalists regime in power. It was over long ago.
The gas station is at the same intersection mentioned below, Lincoln and Talladega share a border. If the government's war criminal money laundering factions had not taken away my guns in 2001 for daring to dodge their assassins, I might have checked out the calls for help when it sounded like someone had been stabbed, which is in the details that follow. My regrets to the family of the boy, and the mother in particular. Everything here is on loan, remember that one. If you take away the guns of the innocent and give them felonies as California does under the direction of money laundering and drug importing groups in the federal government, the only ones with guns will be the criminals and the cops who are overwhelmed and half-corrupted. Of course similar to the alleged suicide of the Regional FDIC Director, your murder can easily be made to look like a suicide. I recommend guns or weapons requiring combinations so you are not killed by your own weapon.
It was ironic I was asleep with my gun in LA in 2001 near a LA VA Graveyard, and I was looking for a place to sleep the night of the likely murder of the boy near Talladega in 2007. Anyway, back to the murder of the boy. The night I pulled up to the station, I believe the boy's Jeep drove by, very nice, like a rich boy's vehicle. Unfortunately, I do not think he was in that vehicle. As you will see below, another vehicle left about 5 minutes later, and in it was likely the stabbed and shot grandson. I have not seen the coroners report so I can not say for sure. I hope I am wrong because I would not like to think that the murder had occurred while I was in earshot, even though he appeared to be a rich boy with his nice vehicle, a favored son of a delegate in the closed government. I dislike idiots murdering the innocent for nickels and dimes even more, and they are Open Season Game for my kind. My regrets to the family once again, I would have like to have helped, despite what has happened in Mobile and in Los Angeles between myself and the ruling faction that behaves as the enemy and subjugator of my people. I travel to relieve post traumatic stress. If anyone wants to donate, I could use a triangle travel destination, starting in the Virgin Islands. Feel free to donate at the Fund Raising Page. I need a break today. I also accept land and farm donations and sometimes junk is accepted to be repaired, e.g. used cars, boats, etc. Just email firstname.lastname@example.org to donate outside of Paypal or to donate used junk.
He was the grandson, not the son of the senator.This paragraph is a late entry and is the best that I can recall from the night of the shooting 11-5-2007 that is mentioned in the paragraphs below. I have put this together one week after my arrival in Talladega, so my memory is slowly filling in gaps and recalling and some may not be accurate, I am simply trying to piece together the puzzle. I am only human. The government in power seems to hate me in some factions. They seem to hate my family and friends in Lower Alabama, their government of lies and abuses tantamount to being war crimes. Anyway, behind me or behind the hedges, I heard a scream or a commotion. I thought it was teenagers doing what teenagers do, make noise. In the cry and scream of a young man, "You stabbed me". Then a sort of tustle like some people were fighting or running. Then another voice, "You are lucky I did not shoot you". "Get in". At that point I had walked from the gas pump and towards the store door. It seems like a car started and it had a bad bendix on the starter so it squealed. The shots were heard when I put my foot inside the door of the store. I said, "Welcome to Talladega". A car then took off at full speed and I did not look back at the road. I glanced and it looked like an older model vehicle, a yellow or tan color, a large old vehicle. Another man was in the store and walked past me toward the exit, having heard the commotion. I then got my coffee and paid for it and it appeared the clerk had the phone off of the receiver so I assumed she had called the law. The federal government hates me for having disclosed money laundering and their closed syndicates after working at the FDIC as a bank examiner. One man was killed and labeled suicide and I tested his replacement. The government says I threatened him. It was a proposition and he or his cohorts tried to have me assassinated the Saturday after St. Valentines Day 2001. They always talk down to us, but they are falling like Rome around the globe, or we have to soon. Suicide by murder, now that is my favorite comedy right next to a natural causes and overboard drowned swimmer or perhaps a busted vein in the head. I would not be surprised to find something totally out of our control with our monster of a society. Something we can not control.
I had a nightmare or dream about the man who exited the store. You must understand. I have much post traumatic stress. Someone tried to kill me as mentioned, and then I was injected and tortured and silenced by government to this day, just like the Russians allegedly did their dissidents. In the nightmare, the man stood outside, and he held up a silver bullet, and he said, "We brought the silver bullet". I consider it a joke to kill a greater being with a bullet. It tends to ricochet, a lot.
On a side note, The three stones is a parable I suppose. I met a Russian woman who claimed to be Jewish in San Francisco. She told me of the three stones, or asked if I knew about them. I have made three outer triangles and one inner triangle in my travels. A meteorite in the middle at Braman OK, and a dead teenager at the end of the third in Talladega AL. Perhaps he is not dead. Regardless, in the center triangle of travel and controversy, 3M C Able. We are not focking around was the message I received a global three-pence year ago. Sometimes when I look at the moon, it looks a rock in a loaded slingshot.
I play detective in this segment having heard shots and a speeding vehicle this past week and now news of the disappearance of a Senator's son. In the nightmare and pleasure-dome and frictional work grid we call this lie, this life, we can also speculate as to what it is we perceive. Aristotle or one of the Philosophers spoke of this paradox.
For instance, if one is in a neuron, and perceives life through that neuron, can one envision life beyond the neuron and its constituents? Only to the point that one can grow or utilize the inner workings of the neuron to reach out beyond the constraint within the neuron.
In consideration of the alleged shape of space beyond the stars where the laws of physics change, it is very likely we are all part of that greater grid of life, and in a sense, in a cell or shell of sorts.
Now, if a being has an advantage of scale or technology or greater intact knowledge, that being can control the lesser to a certain extent to that beings benefit or detriment.
For instance, you could be sitting there talking to this lesser extension of a non-present in totality entity, or one that is present in greater sum total or at a remote location. The ability to overcome the minds ability to discern fact from persuasion can be and is likely lessened by some beings or people already in power. Perhaps that is why the current regime in power forcibly injects Americans. We should have zero tolerance for the regime's forced injections. We are no longer allies on that count.
The mass media has become a joke, a distraction. I have met what I thought were people, or I saw or heard events where the outcome could have been heinous. But were the victims or the assailants truly among my people, my flesh and blood. I would for a lesser term state that we are a sort of other golgi body in the greater cell. We know the golgi body family but we do not know the pretenders as well, just as the flesh of our human body can not discern viruses very often, and sicknesses ensue. Then there are the symbiotic relationships in the body where one benefits the other in life, often in a one way or two way relationship, such as the e. coli bacterium in the human intestine. The variations are more complex than medicine when viewing the health of the family of the greater cell.
Now back to the point regarding murderers, bizarre events, and even set ups by lesser triangles of people or the being or its entity I describe. All the world is a machine, and an opportunist with no humane conscience or recognizance of others is doomed to that fate in return. It is likely perpetuated by a sort of higher order, but the higher order eats what it creates, or it appears that way. You know the life and death struggle or the perception of that struggle.
Not any Johnny Cum lately star struggle will exact a more divine conscience than to have ones own head torn out by the roots. I mention this because in our Jank tour through life, we see things, like Randy Kraft serial killer 1983 who I passed by in my travels, and then there were three shots outside of a convenience store this past Monday night, late, towards midnight, November 5, 2007, at the intersection of highway 20 and and county highway 77 in Alabama, near Talladega. A Senators grandson came up missing about that time. I was looking for real estate, having made the tour from Mobile AL to Bath Springs TN to Talladega AL in one day, and to be welcomed by three or four gun shots. I was going into the door of the filling station nearest the highway when the shots rang out and did not get involved, as the cashier heard the shots also. I thought it was fireworks maybe but the vehicle was speeding by afterward and I could not tell if it came from the adjoining lot or a lot across the street.
In my usual fashion, I do not always make my final plans when I travel a triangle, only knowing one destination for sure. I go where ever. On that night I was going to pull in across the street from the gas station on the South side of the building, which looks now like a hotel's parking garage or a building there, and I am not sure about the recall here as the car may have been parked in the dark next to the station. It was late and I was tired. There was a guy standing there and a few cars, with one of the cars doors opened. The sihoutte of the man standing next to the door of the car was of athletic physique and around six-feet tall, and when I approached the drive he started walking toward me, most likely to get me away from the car, and it looked like something I did not want to deal with since it was in the dark and wreaked of danger, so I turned back to the light in the gas station and parked to fill up, and as I was going inside the door, just as I put my foot in the store, the shots were heard and I said, "Welcome to Talladega". The store clerk heard the shots. I am sure it was in the dark where the shots originated. In light of this and other eventsI might as well go back to San Pedro or Gardena in Los Angeles, but I think I will try Brazil, maybe.
Therefore, the area I traveled that day is a triangle as the city's initials are thus to that point, M, BS, T. You can likely find the young man on the MT. or mountain. He has likely BS Been Shot. Also, you will likely find him next to a field. How I arrived at that conclusuion is the alleged name of the homeless alleged Jew who I picked up as a hitchhiker on the triangle before, which was on the most previous full moon, the MASA triangle, delineated on Quatrains 5 Braman Ames Aimee Mann section. The alleged name of the alleged Long Island New York Jew, was Co-Field, Ben was the alleged first name, the same first name as the missing grandson of the Alabama Senator. The car proceeded Eastward on I-20, toward Georgia. I stayed the night, saw my prospective property in Talladega that morning, and proceeded toward Florala, AL where my grandmothers share cropper family once migrated. I hate what has become of Alabama, we are strangled by the enemy from the outside and the inside. The Senator who's grandson is missing would likely not allow me into his government if he was in Mobile either, or would he? I doubt it. Regardless, our world is a cesspool and a garden, so get used to the fruits of your own shit.
We might find that the entire ordeal with mass media and their government and fake elections and their drama is just M, BS, T, of the other variety, which is Mark Twain Bull Shit.
I do not get involved with the USA government any longer. They have members who are full of trickery and lies. I am left on my own. We are left on our own. No nation of humans is different from any other was the message I received. We are led, if not deceived, and that may be on many levels, like a machine. I have considered dropping my TV off at the mountain of the carnage or is that car garage?. Sheriff Jack "Snatch The Fairy Possum" Tillman, is a deaf mute or an idiot and his kind has dropped the ball, his kind in the federal government hounding my front door step of my home and calling my family, this time a federal agent calling himself my neighbor cop. They do not care about us. Do we care about them, or its controller? A spokesman or thing for the Mobile Alabama government tells me to step out of the way of the federal syndicates closed door governments. He says I am holding up progress. Yes, the world is a cesspool and they have their fingers deep in that progress, kneading the fruits of their own shit.
Is it symbiotic? Does it inject us and kill us for the thrill? Thriller, killer, chiller, everywhere. Don't let your fingers grow long.
Segment November 13, 2007: OKHAM_demodicid_GENETIC_shell_EXTERIOR_frame
In consideration of some abstract of Okham's Razor, "All things being equal, the simplest explanation is usually the correct explanation", I turn to the intricate nature of life and man and look at the vestigial parts given to us through history, and one I came across looks just like what I picture injecting itself into the human central nervous system. Imagine the vestigial mite, demodicid anchored into the brain and projecting down the spinal cord or vice versa or some adjustment of the organism to utilize its anchoring and growth pattern in its outer shell.
Of course the genome would have to be modified in some fashion to perform its required task, to increase the volume of the brain and spinal cord or to regenerate it. Several other organisms may work as well, but I use this as my example.
Considering demodicid is a vestigial organism, it's portion of the genome that determines exterior structure, could likely be spliced into a vector such as the usual attenuated virus vectors, that would be coupled with the gene that creates the progenitor cell to human central nervous system cells, the stem cell.
Voila, I present my Mitey Mite Mike, mathematician and inventor and stupid sauvant extraordinaire. I bet it would like to drag triangles in the sand, mapping out his next path on his travels.
Segment 10-16-2007 THEORY_origin_HUMAN_sub-species_VARIOUS
Considering the nature of the government of the United States and noted morphological differences in mankind, not only race but in skeletal structure and remnants of unusual genetic endowment, I can not help to feel certain of something odd in the history of the human species.
Could an entire species and subspecies be used for the benefit of another? Of course, it happens through many methods and means. Now, if there is a close competition between two sub-species and if either of them lacks humane intelligence but on the other hand they have technical capabilities in warfare and subjugation, your children could be at severe risk of being harmed and mal-developed due to their intervention or medical manipulation of your child physically during development or post-partum, or even worse, the unknown and unseen of their or its technology.
After what I have endured in my life and what I have seen in many of my family's lives, I see the conglomerate government of the United States and their controllers to be a subjugating force against my family and our kind.
I encourage breaking away from them or it into separate communities forbidding entry by the government or officials of that sect controlled by our subjugators that are expressly forbidden entry. The David Koresh incident with the FBI was symbolic in that no communication was given to him with the outside world and the mass media. Instead of communicating with him and the outside world as a mediator, the government burned him alive. What comes around goes around, and every dog has his day.
The biggest mistake a man can make is to be a woman for a lesser government controlled by a lesser being. I welcome warfare against the subjugators. They inject us forcibly with chemicals against our will, see LA VA 1999, and there are other atrocities.
There is an element of people we must break away from, even if it means loss of contact with others who are not of malicious and subjugating intent. To have fought in any war in the past century was a mistake if you were fighting for the lie that is now our prison, our trap, our nightmare. Their courts are heinous abominations. Applaud the overthrow of the international regime of terror and herald the death or deaths of their controllers, our subjugators.
Segment 10-14-2007: Comedy MIND_of_CREATOR_sweet_SNATCH
In this world, I have learned through my life that in the mind of the creator there are checks and balances, and one of those checks and balances is my brother whom I have never met but one day my father said I would meet. Somehow, I see myself as his lesser half in his embodiment of logical deduction and reductive intent. His disposition is surly and he is not from these parts and he has not suffered the degradations at youth that I endured and he is not as timid about battle, after all, he sees the other half of the coin in death, in a peculiar one-up, one-down fashion.
In this scene is my past employer, the FDIC office, the federal banking regulatory agency whose hidden aim is to be your money launderer of choice and to get rid of all employees who are not daft or on the inside.
Scene: Brother with wings like a bat but bigger is going to assist Kurt by being there on his first day back at the office as a bank examiner, and he has chosen to assist his arch nemesis, one of the sweet hoodlums promoted to ARD.
Brother: "Hello, uh, Sweet? Could I have a seat at this
computer terminal from yours, if you don't mind?
FDIC boss Sweet: "What is that spare computer and desk doing in my office this morning?" "What's going on?"
Brother: "Let's call in the boss Sweet, he can help to explain the predicament here at the F-DICK."
Brother speaks on intercom through telephone into large office.
Brother: "Sweet and her Daddy want Master F-DICK Regional Director to report to Sweets office immediately". "Her Chamber of the couche is melting, and I have a sack of coins from the money laundering NTEU syndicates".
Scene: A little man looking like a little Spaniard or Italian with a villain moustache appears at the door.
Master: "What the hell is going on?"
Brother: "Uh master, I have something to tell you." "In this game you are playing there are two tails, yours and mine, and yours is whipped."
Sweet: "Please tell me what is going on. Who is this and what is this computer and desk doing here"
Scene: Brother reaches into his desk and pulls out the picture of the dead regional director labeled suicide in his FDIC office. He throws the stack of pictures at Sweet and looks to his left shoulder.
Brother: "I have had enough of this sh-t". "My brother is coming into assume coat tails and he is accompaniment, me, you dumb c-ck suckers".
Scene: His wings spread out and he shows his teeth and jumps up on the desk and hovers over the two in the small high rise office.
Brother: "This morning he gets to meet Mean".
Scene: Me, Kurt Brown--Saint Ram Bone, enters the office and looks over to my new found brother and speaks..
Saint: "Dad told me I would find you here. It figures it would be in the puss of the F-DICK with a sweet and a mass of sh-t". "Come here and give me a hug"
Brother: "F-ck off, I was about to give the meat to Sweet."
Scene: Brother looks down at sweet and his tongue protrudes from his mouth and it looks just like the mouth of a hummingbird but much bigger and with shark teeth.
To be continued....... This was based on facts with fiction thrown in. It is as if we were taken over by lesser beings. I know my brother is coming, right about now, Sweet Master of Snatch.. My father wanted me to be an attorney, I chose accounting. I think I should have been an engineer of war tools like my great Grandpappy above, Archimedes.
Segment 10-13-2007: Comedy DOGGIE_style_CHILD_theatre_FRONT_yard
In my neighborhoods when I was a child growing up there were many stray dogs running loose. They were also not spayed or neutered.
I remember standing there in the front yard watching the spectacle in my prepubescent years while other kids and I giggled and laughed about the interruption of our make-shift ball field by these two dogs.
As we watched the male do usual mounting of the female, we observed and counted how many times he humped, as we had seen another dog mount the same bitch a day or so earlier. The second time though, you stop counting so much and wonder what it will be like with the little neighbor girl who is your own age and who lives down the street.
In complete innocence as a male, you do not know where the hole is on a female. So as we sit there counting the strokes by the second bastard on the bitch, we discussed how to do it to the girl down the street who was our own age.
"The way you do it is, you approach from behind doggie style, you hump 143 times, and then when it is in their good and long, you turn your back on her and drag her around the bed." "If she wants something to drink, she drags you". "Sure it's rough on the knees, but who cares when you are panting like that.".
Segment 10-6-2007 COMEDY_stew_CRYOGENIC_
In a pot of stew are the thawed heads that had been cryogenically frozen and then sold at auction. An eyeball floats free like in a kettle of Rattlesnake Bayou fish head stew.
Comedian Rodney Dangerfield in stew says: "Focus that"
Comedian Billy Crystal in stew says: "What?" "Copasetic?"
Bruised Brown my father lounging around in the kitchen says: "Has two?"
Comedian Billy Crystal says: "Got you?" "What?"
They all focus.
A big bubble comes up from the bubbling pot and a sound from the water like a voice.
"I remember a war long ago. A man or being in something like an airboat shot out from the crowd in a tense situation". "We should have shot him or not let him go" "All we got was a fishhook in, down on the bridge by the row".
Seaman Bill of Tusk-a-loosa bubbles to the top of the stew and says: "Ah HA!" "See my Ruby"
Ruby Red Dress wandering in the kitchen says: "Come here Bill"
Up from the broth of a bubbling stew comes who knows who, one eye out with a stick and the other one a cork screw, but who's got the fish hook? Who knows who? Maybe me, maybe you. Sounds like Russian Roulette with James. Why do they or IT torture us so. Judge Michael McMaken, of the Mob AL show, is about to have the regime's talent agent tanking back to Mac Machine Head row.
Now we are screwed and missing one eye for the shoe, the big big shoe. Some say I am a different species or the missing link. I think I will eat therefore I am the Tofu Mayonnaise man Fan.
Here is a repeat performance of the article above on LA Indymedia With a call to Crystal or media hoods for Mobile Performance.
Segment 10-6-2007 BRAIN_leader_LEFT_right_
On a macro-level in consideration of the size of the bread or brain or golgi body shaped spheroid we are in within space, beyond stars, and under current scientific dogma, I speculate on life and its true nature within the spheroid. There is no name for this shell that I am aware, it is simply a place where the laws of physics changes. We circulate within, as in infinite time, barring the unknown X factor of course.
I sometimes conjecture on what this larger shell is, even in limited understanding and even less validity to back up what I have heard on a scientific program on mass media. Therefore the imagination speculates about what it analyzes, and often processes are discerned, but we are kept in the dark by the leaders of all fields. It is the nature of nature.
Now, human society, smeared over time and space like a layer of paint on a brush, while the other fields of existence and matter splay in its own like manner. Inside the mind of this shell I see us, but what are we?
I see my left handed and my right handed on this discussion. The numbers are sometimes 9 to 1 and 3 to 1 in ratio. Why? The mind of the spheroid sees, feels, tastes, touches, intuits, classifies, abbreviates, and multiplies those factors of material importance so as to retain control and balance. But how many layers are we discussing? The embodiment of the power of the left handed and right brained individual in balance is imagination, and that of the right handed person of the left brain is logical placement or building on a logical method. The spheroid can only digest a certain level of free range right brain thought by the thinking beings within. The more structured left brain types are layered and used in a certain sort of cognitive recollection. It all adds up over time and space and the left brained types are as threatened by the right brain types as the vice versa.
I once saw a dead dog in a ditch, flies eating the dog and maggots pouring out the side on Dog Island Alabama's Gulf Coast ; that image is ingrained in my senses, on many layers. The flies for some reason and the odor reminded me of something and as I watched the flies, I wondered, were they one looking at me, not as flies, but as the face of the outer shell, a sort of conglomerate consciousness hung down to view me on a wire. The flies ate the animal.
A vegetarian Hindu of the Jane religion woman once told me that a meat eater's breath smells like death. I thought about that once, and the aversion to meat is in a sense a struggling for a more humane and divine nature around us. But then again, doesn't the taste of the dead dog to the flies remind them of grapes and cherries? I agree that tofu is very tasty if cooked and seasoned well.
10-6-2007: Segment LEFT_hand_RIGHT_frontal_LOBE
The reason so many leaders have been left handed in the past is that many of them had superior thinking capabilities in the right frontal lobe of the brain. That part of the brains outer core, the cerebral cortex, has been proven to be instrumental in a person's empathy toward other living beings. We, the left handed, are often shocked by our parents right handedness indifference and those of the world around us.
It is ironic on this point that a serial killer, Randy Kraft, who tried to lure me into his trap had alleged damage or a hard hit to the right frontal lobe when he was a child. It is also ironic that a city councilman who seems to be full of lies and hate has damage to his right frontal lobe and he is still in power in Mobile Alabama. Reginald Copeland, Mobile Alabama City Councilman who moved from the three 666's district to another district when attention was focused upon him. His counterpart, a fake man of religion and a politician by nature, Clinton Johnson, is another sociopath on the Mob Al city council, but he stays hidden, and Copeland is more vocal and in view.
Criminal conduct by the ruling regime, coupled with technology and collusion, leaves us few options.
9-30-2007 Segment Comedy_monroeville_GRAVE_dodger_ROGER
I remember when I was a teenager and I was too young to drive, I would entertain myself by walking through the graveyards of the towns I stayed in.
Small older towns were the best due to location of the graveyards and their size. One Saturday on a missed appointment with death, which is in the true recollection of Kelly that I discuss on page Quatrains 5 of Mobile Audit Club, I was with another teenager in Monroeville Alabama and we were in a graveyard with a lot of soil erosion. I was truthful in that recollection, this segment has been embellished for comedy in death, which us of the lower caste in the United States are most familiar.
The erosion was deep enough in the graveyard that caves were formed down at the base of one large section, a washout. So as we stood there looking at the exposed coffins I opened one of them up and saw a nice suit and a ring. So myself and the other kid, we pulled it out.
That evening I was standing in downtown Monroeville smoking a green cigar that was found in the suit. A young man came by and said, "Hey, isn't that my Grand-Pappaws suit and green cigar"?.
I replied, "Man is it stiff", took a puff of Pappaws green cigar and flicked his false eyelashes, and asked, "You did not know we were in the same outfit did you?"
My father would get very intoxicated on alcohol on occassion . One time I asked him when I was young, "I wonder what this mark is up here on my forehead, it looks like a cigarette burn".
My father replied, "I am sorry about that, I had to wake you up". Of course that mark could be where the government's money laundering criminal syndicates burned me with some instrument at the LA VA Westwood where they did forced injections and experiments in 1999 and earlier on other veterans and in 2001 on this veteran and former FDIC bank examiner.
My mother, she was a devout religious woman and although she was highly intelligent and would become a nurse in later years and learn the anatomy of a human body, I asked her when I was young, "Is it true that a man has one less rib than a woman, like it says in the Bible?"
She replied that it was indeed true. So in a medical school class years later, I asked a professor, "Is it true a man has one less rib than a woman?"
The haughty old crone who knew her field said, "No! Of course not! You country fried rednecks!"
So the little Saint Ram Bone hunkered down in me and said, "Don't you talk about my Momma and me like that." May they both rest in peace now. Rib count is equal for yen and yang.
Segment 9-24-2007: SCIENCE_decimate_RECONSTRUCT_fulcrum_TRANSITION_key3
The polymorphic variant agent or agents in its or their most absolute frequency will design its or their machine or organism or physical component in a method that does not allow escape or penetration upon, that acted upon agent, and the quadratic variant or variants set at it or its oblique angles or their or it's inverse, in the most absolute frequency, and you will note this phenomena in space also, where the temperature is 4 degrees above absolute zero in the inner core of space between the galaxies. On a bio-logic notion one could control the species sexual variant, male or female, of one side and manipulate the other in like fashion, never having to fold due to the dependency of one sex of the species for the other and due to one sex being dependent upon or created within the confines of the quadratic variant agent or agents in its or their most absolute frequency or frequencies. Of course the tendency of all things is to spin apart and lose the inertia of staidness.
Segment 9-24-2007: TRUE_wives_LIES_true_WIVES_liesNow for some odd ball lies for the deceptive and naive. The dark side of the moon is not always dark, it is just not exposed to us, as the moon is stationary on it's own axis. In the Judeo-Christian biblical account of one rib taken from Adam to form Eve, a man should not consider himself to be missing a rib, he has the same number, and the penis is not a bone or a lower part of the homo erectus rib cage.
Segment 9-21-2007: SCIENCE_physics_PROXIMATE_proportion_PROJECT_leverage_FULCRUM
Everything is relative, proximate proportionate. If you do the math on a sliding scale where leverage is involved you get incremental changes that vary in magnitude in direct relation to proximate proportionate of the modus loci, or the center absolute in a shifting fashion proximate proportionate to local absolute up one on the macro scale. If you can translate that into varying waves based on a substrate calculable and penetrable through varying devices or organism based devices then you have a weapon or a tool of a monumental scale. Knock yourselves out and remember to build up next to the great wall when you arrive. It will be a humdinger to knock out some mother f-cker.
The resonance quality of metals afforded in heavy metal mass as construed on outside of buildings enables a cryptic framework from outer and inner space, a pinching of the coil.
The New York and Oklahoma and D.C. attacks were in direct relation to that level in an albeit nonjudgmental but residual of factors method.
If not being attacked you can attack by them in a sort of spying freedom of the press fashion. The USA government is closed to this method of entry. What controls IT?
Collusion. What makes IT permanent? Technology.
Segment 9-4-2007: BIG_head_SCHOOL_weapons_DESIGN
I look back often at human accomplishments or their apparent accomplishments. It appears that much energy is put in to weapons design and killing humans than the amount of energy put into preserving and enhancing mankind.
I envision or remember the big head school of weapons design. The tutor or instructor may or may not be the creator or the instructor could simply be a messenger.
The first day of class is the class to protect your mother, and once someone achieves the ultimate weapon, he or she gets to sit at the front of the class and be entertained by the events that transpire in the class and among the classmates themselves.
For entertainment purposes I will give names common to Earth humans.
The instructor lays down the ground rules. You are to design a weapon to defeat the others in the class who are challenging you and threatening your mother. The class goes silent as the toolkits are handed out, and they are very simple in the beginning.
Scene: The first day of class at big head weapons design school only rookies are invited.
Amelio pulls out a sheath of class that can be thrown at or pulled across an opponents skin.
Achmed pulls out a torch made of wood kindling that burns hot and bright and it can be applied to the opponents skin or thrown at the opponents hair.
Bob pulls out a sword made out of an old plow and it looks like a scythe.
Oliver scratches out a buzzard's foot and its talons hardened and he threatens to scratch out anyone's eyes with the flesh eating bacteria laden claws.
The instructor pulls out a big stick and beats them all to death as they attack each other.
Scene: The second day of class Saint Ram Bone gets to enter and whisper to the instructor what he has brought. The instructor says very good and sits him up front to watch the events transpire and as a treat he lets him eat a brownie brown brown with coffee and bring in a cadre of girls from the graduating ceremony from the last event.
Amelio pulls out a stick and swings.
Achmed takes a sword and cuts Amelio.
Bob pulls out a gun and shoots Achmed.
Oliver reveals his cannon and blows Bob away.
The creator takes a bigger stick and beats them all to death, some of them barely alive.
Scene: The third day of class Saint Ram Bone takes his seat up front announces he is Osso Ramdella Sandel and to leave Saint Ram Bone alone in the future.
Amelio pulls out a rocket with a conventional warhead.
Achmed pulls out a nuclear bomb and blows Amelio away.
Bob pulls out an invention that defines the anti-matter and matter complex, gives it a few good shakes and uses the nuclear bomb against Achmed that Achmed invented.
Oliver stands back and enhances Bob's invention and splits time into many dimensions with matter and anti-matter fields opposed and beats Bob at his own game.
The creator takes a bigger stick and beats their last living brains out.
Scene: The fourth day, the students are tired and say they do not want to fight, they want to play with Saint Ram Bone. The creator says they do not deserve to play with Saint Ram Bone and his entourage and beats them to death for general principle.
Scene: The fifth day the new rookies achieve divine consciousness and each brings a pen with them to class. They all write, "I have achieved divine consciousness and the holy grail is in my right frontal lobe of my brain given to me by a divine and humane creator who cherishes life."
The creator turns to Saint Ram Bone laying in the down feather bed he has brought to class and on the bed are the sisters of all of the other students with Saint Ram Bone, all of them impregnated.
The creator asks, "What did you learn Saint Ram Bone?"
Saint Ram Bone does not give the right answer and the creator beats him to death with his penis, a very very big stick, and when Saint Ram Bone revives his consciousness, he replies, "I know what I did wrong. I broke these girls hearts because I can not keep my pecker in my pants. I should have been very careful in choosing the wife I want and then I should stay with my children and my wife and protect them, not some warmongering lesser who resembles the unelightened" The creator nods in agreement.
So concludes another year of Big Head Weapons Design School. Is W and regime up for the Big Head Challenge? No options, you will be a veteran of the Big Head School of Weapons Design. (Sueet F-DIC)
I often tend to remember the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation (FDIC) in San Francisco for dark humor. I see the Regional Director over his desk with a bullet to his head in front of his computer. The codes to transfer funds are on the desk in front of the computer.
I tend to remember the horrific in humor, or to envision with my own living nightmare that has ensued since working as a bank examiner for the FDIC, where the money and monetary control the top guy has at most Federal Banking Regulatory Agencies is worth more than his life.
A talking lizard like those of the South East, a Chameleon with an English or Australian accent,
"Excuse me mate, are those keys made of gold"
I also worked at a TV Station that hired some dimwit to play the village idiot. His Where is Darwin segment is a small feather in the butt locally.
I envision the where is Darwin segment with Darwin in my kitchen cooking Hash Brownies, staged in Alabama but with fake marijuana this time as always. I also envision Darwin when the FBI comes banging on my door for attempting to enter and audit the government as they did this week, where a local judge lied and I can not prove it due to cameras not allowed in..
Darwin could shove a Sheriff I had terminated, a Jack "Snatch The Fairy Possum" Tillman into the oven and light the griddles for a slow roast. I can also see Braman in the kitchen who is a carcicature of a man in Oklahoma, Braman, where I was almost hit by falling space debri in 2004. Braman is like my old military friends and relatives, the lug-nuts made of steel who drank their beer smoked their cigarettes and ducked their wife's billet club blows. They also knew when it was time to let a man fight a fair fight and to stand aside, as Braman approves of telling the inhumane men of the machine to go fub themselves without saying it in words.
In the end I see Darwin going off in chains with local federal officials and taking on the appearance of Snatch the Fairy Possum. Me, Hell, I am dead, and I just move from one energy level to another. Who wants to spend time with a crooked f-dic don key chameleon and a hash cookie leech named Dar-Weinie.
Now for the really funny stuff, Dar Weinie gets to do a segment on what the mass media would not cover, torture and forced experiments and injections at the LA VA Westwood, see continuing problems, where Dar Weinie is called manic and then thrown to the LA Courts where he meets the Circuit Judge, the man with no real face and only known as an electon by name, the Lucifer of Era, The Los Angeles Circuit Court and their federal mafia syndicates. "Have you ever had taenia solium Mr. Dar Weinie? Perhaps Acaris Lumbrocoides?" "You now have both in addition to mania and you are going to the insane American jail with Jesus". Once he gets there, he finds Kurt has arranged for SavoirFaire his business partner to play a serenade for his forced execution for being associated withe notorious Saint Ram Bone. See the Video by Violinist SavoirFaire...Pendulum is magnifico
Segment 8-23-2007: MATTER_anti-matter_MATTER_anti-matter
A very dear friend of mine, who was much more in tune with and aware of the external extract of life in some existential manner said she had a recorded tape of a lecture on two existences at once. The person labored on and on about what I consider as the more scientific name of anti-matter.
Now imagine if you can, the plausibility of two universes of matter and anti-matter, each next to each other and when shaken, as in large quantum physics planes, beyond our external celestial grid and outer shell, you exist in any number of those planes. That is what it is like being killed I presume or recall.
Over and over, like a multiplicative sine wave in opposed and pressurized fields of contrast. A man fights with a man, the fields, a man fights with his wife, the fields. It is no wonder they call it a battle field. The hole punchers slip through for the untamed portion of the show, or are they just part and parcel on a larger continuum.
The one thing I fear is that I would walk into an area known for killing and violence as in the conquered areas of the modern nation of Israel, the occupied territories, and to some extent the prison nation of the United States, it's people conquered and tied to a yoke controlled by thieves. The matter and the anti-matter of man. New Orleans and Mobile are not the big easy or its dirty sister, but instead, they are the place that hope forgot.
I am afraid I would find under the some-what calm surface of the matter, the anti-matter, the truth, a hidden foe with my fellow humans tied and shackled in a horrid configuration or mass of society or societies. There is nothing worse than blind rot. The regime in power is due to fall and it is no wonder, as it will be pulled apart anyway.
Although I do not consider myself a Christian, or a Buddhist, or a Jew, or a Hindu, or a Muslim, or a Wickan, I consider myself a free thinker with a humane conscience and I am repulsed by man's apparent inhumanity to man. If I see someone innocent being injured it makes me want to fight the assailant. I sort of enjoy combat in the manner a bulldog enjoys grab-assing with a cocker spaniel.
So in the South East USA, where the Bible belt is king and queen, I sometimes picture myself fighting with the devil himself. I have taken down a few criminals in government and one food funds thief Sheriff.
I picture myself half way down the hole going in for the devil. You must picture me calling him and coaxing him out with a dummy, perhaps a fairy possum named Snatch. I hold Snatch down in the devils hole and start to chastise him.
"Come on you scum sucking vermin, I know your mother goes in heat and has puppies but you have got to come out here and let me have some of that worn out asp of yours".
I use Snatch like a puppet on my hand and when Satan grabs him, Snatch says, "Sum of a bitch" "You got my arm thang", and all the while the real Snatch the Fairy Possum is screaming in sheer terror. I do not feel a thing.
Of course after Satan has grabbed Snatch the Fairy Possum, I wrap Satan's snout in a slip knot made out of chain. We struggle and he twists me around but I hold my own. Someday I will die or he. If he wins, the whole earth is collapsed to look like Saturn and we all enter the window of the next life with slight adjustments to start the whole process over again in its own variant.
My goal is to have heaven on Earth and I want to go to space. I love to travel. You never know who or what you are going to find. The Mobile Alabama government and their federal protectorate of war criminals who ignore their own laws to protect us is my devil in the real life. I wish I would have done my life differently. I may have lost this fight. I too am ready to die now, just like Snatch the Fairy Possum who is already dead in the creator's eyes.
I love olives with my pasta. Get behind me satan, I got gas to pass and you can have Snatch The Fairy Possum and some of your own grass.
It is true that I seek out the change in the permiable mass, but I also sometimes flee when I sense change that I can not overcome. I sense an earthquake coming and some say the ground buckles after I leave, but that is not true. Perhaps Satan lurks under my feet, waiting for my next game play. So lets all sing the song written on the love line 5 page of this site, Snatch The Fairy Possum, sung to the tune of Puff the Magic Dragon.
SEGMENT 8-6-2007: INVENTION_hidden_WARFARE_invention_HIDDEN_warfare
In consideration of a split entity, a sort of new age weapon where one person is in front of you one moment and then in front of you is a technologically generated image and of course the real person going in through one of the other wavelength fields or something of that sort, such as what I had proposed in the oblique angle field of resistance from three points at high energy and wave and sound concentrations amplified to create a vortex within to step. I speak as the inventor Descartes spoke of his observations, in liquid terms, so bear with me..
Now we must first realize that you can always overcome someone, especially with the right injections. The federal government has injected me so many times that I want to all California politicians forcibly injected and all of Arizona politicians forcibly injected and all of the illegal regime's supporters in office in Alabama and all who think people who are compliant deserve forced injections. What comes around goes around. There may be many layers to this life. I have been tortured and I see the horror of the regime on my soil.
Like a Sicilian, I want a raft for the sharks to feed from.
How is this done, I show you two interesting phenomena. The game is played with delusion.. Video of how mind is self deceiving and through these weaknesses, we can be swamped.
The second is illusion. And I really do like the 3-D Dimensionalizer. From nothing, comes something. The big trick is the cage of Faraday, and although some physicists say it can not be emulated, I say it can be made, in space.
Now there are many tricks with chemistry. Your higher level consciousness could be redirected and shaped so that when you work or reproduce for example through some diabolically engineered method, you are oblivious to what is happening.
I must admit, these are fears that came after I was captured by the federal government of the USA after I had worked as a bank examiner for the FDIC and turned informant on obvious covered up murder and money laundering that was obvious in the normal routine of my duties. Not all banks of course, just the drug cartels and the casino skimmers favorites..
A college Professor with a Doctorate in Chemistry said, "I can make any chemical composition with chemistry". Imagine, if that dull-witted professor can do that, then nature can do it faster. I often wonder, is there a closet chemist out there who has isolated the cells that create the opium like endorphins in the human brain and then multiplied the isolated cells in a stem cell matrix, which in a sense makes them grow as if implanted with a growth gene from an aberrant cancer cell?
It drips with opium straight to and from the brain.
Imagine the horrors the veterans felt in the United States when they discovered their government had turned against them. Imagine the dead bank examiners of the federal government. Forcibly injected, forced medical procedures.
From this living hell in the USA, this nightmare en vivo, I also dream these horrid thoughts, because I was held down and injected two times, two injections each time, once at Los Angeles Veterans Administration Westwood and once at Flagstaff Medical Center. Each time, I bothered no one. Tortured and robbed and blinded partially, and like chickens in the coop, the injected rooster wants to kill the farm tender. This is not George Orwell's Animal Farm, this is their living Hell. Watch out for liquid opium put on the market by the cartels of the negative capitalists and their regime in power. Do not trust any government approved drugs such as forced injections for children. Nature has her way.
SEGMENT 7-25-2007: ENTERTAINER_call_WHITE_nigger_BLACK_nigger_RED_nigger
Below is an ad that was placed on Craigslist in the highly censored city of Mobile Alabama where foreign criminals reign in closed door government. The ad was censored from searches. You can reply to email@example.com if you are looking for work and have Talent. The ad is here for an unknown time span. It was hidden from all except for my being able to edit it and view its uniform resource locator (URL) address.
Illusion delusion clear up Tits Braman's confusion.
In early to mid July 2007, I was in Braman Oklahoma
I slept at a gas station there, much changed since 2004,
December 7 near midnight 24:00.
I was looking at property and I did not have the money to part with for even
a hotel room, forget about property.
My conquest has won on that level. Snatch gets twice what I get and he gets
6.66 times a SSI recipient's income.
Anyway, as I left the area on that clear blue morning driving toward Enid and then
I saw what appeared to be a long clear tube like structure from space, like bubbles.
A young woman had predicted I would die in 2004, Kelly was her name. A meteorite almost
hit me near Braman Oklahoma, as I drove through its Pixie Dust back then. This time, in 2007, it was
like I was looking at a smiling face or faces and movement of things and places at a mucher lighter level and it was too bright for me too see in clarity as I was driving too fast.
Perhaps it was the vapors.
It's always hats off to the elements.
Segment July 5, 2007: TRUTH in TISSUE en VIVO space
The truth is that unascertainable quality that all philosophers, mathematicians, artists, and theologians have sought. It is a multi-faceted, pluralistic idea, with many identifiable qualities and quantities whose sum total can only be guessed at in the abstract, with no real truth ever determined by the inner constituents, inlcuding you and I, of what I am about to describe.
The stars, planets, and all of space within the outer boundary of our known existence and all creatures set therein, can not determine real truth, and if you could, you may determine it was unfathomable in reality.
I see the inner portion of shell that is around us as being like living tissue in a cell, including dirt. You see, if you stretch tissue out and rip it in an aqueous medium, it will grow, form, coalesce. The same idea applies in space. Can you get something from nothing, well definitely, and in the center is a quality and quantity that defies logic, yet it embodies truth.
We are like fragments in that tissue, always changing, just as water does in a living cell.
Today, I search for the unsearchable, I feel without my eyes but my mind. I follow the scent path, the recollection, the hidden variable whose name I can only ascertain upon immediate contact and then recall precedes that contact, like Deja Vu. I expect it. I do not expect to see remnants of the dead in the living, but they are, sometimes they recognize me, which makes me ask, what is the lie?
Onward Braman, onward fixer, I am off to ascertain the divine elixir. Snatch is in the cargo hold. This paragraph was a joke with an encrypted riddle, Jack. Do I hear singing? Oblique angles and downward force keep us pinned in and clueless.
Segment June 23, 2007: CONTROLLED_hertz_EMISSIONS_mind_MANIPULATIONS
I would like to start today's piece with a blues song that was heard when I thought about the weapon listed in this section.
Song to Blues Song for Sueet who is not so sweet: Saint Ram Bone sings, with balls and teeth ashow: "Got my balls to the wall," 'when you see me comin' "Got my balls to the wall" when you see me coming you better watch out cause I'm gonna shoot you right in the mouth' 'And that's gonna hurt'
In considering the availability of the human mind or any other creature for that matter and the inherent inability of that mind to discern when the mind itself is under attack, I have consider a new weapon or method. Note overall operation of this state could be used with various inputs to arrive at the same derived mode of attack, for instance an individual or device in close proximity to people or a more general satellite or microwave method.
For instance, if one had a computer controlled or even perhaps a mentally controlled state or hertz with assigned range and magnitude, or if the right sensory or communication method is employed that utilizes the same principle, one could create a mental state for another mind to see. This wave could be so overwhelming and so dove-tailing into normal thought that it would be akin to moving all of the algae in one direction or into a million planned directions with the correct controls.
There is to date in the laughable consumer aftermarket, a laser gun with a Hertz like that of a human in its wavelength. It is stunning. That is a more simplified version of the principle, without the most discernable and fine tuning qualities I ascribe. The regime in its fleeting capacity, can eat my ship and I hope IT splinters its ankles upon blast.
Segment May 28, 2007: WAR_continuum_PHYSICS_amalgam_METAL_flesh_WAR_continuum_PHYSICS_amalgam_METAL_flesh
Incapacitated states and the pros and cons of metal in a person's body when the time and space continuum is altered in any method in an area surrounding the body subjected to the distortion effects in whatever dimensions the new technology may imply.
Due to recent advances in science and many hidden advances, we know we are always subject to being pick-pocketed in a space-age sense.
The technology has changed but we are caught in a trap, we have fallen behind, as always. The government has turned against us. The only allies are those in the battle field and the only olive branch drips blood like rosewood.
Metal due to its nature would create some distortion issues due to the specific gravity of the substance, or its density in weight, as opposed to lighter living tissues.
An incapacitation may occur during the fleecing of someone by utilizing crossed fields, one in variation and in circumference over the other, however the metallic density of tooth fillings, pins, and other medical apparatus could distort the remembrance of the event due to technical failures.
In the technology war, failure leads to seizure. Closed circumference fields guarantee non-loss of said persons or things. Second point controls are worth more if a chain reaction is started at the point of contact.
Segment May 22, 2007: COMEDY_sueet_HOLE_mel_BROOKSp>A witch of a whore for a mob boss FDIC, federal banking regulatory agency director once told me, in Sueet Carol tones, "You have dug yourself a job you can not get out of. Drop the EEOC complaint and keep your job. I did not know the rules. I was terminated and the EEOC case was not heard. They know the rules. The new rule is warfare and comedy. I equate the two. So on with the big shoe, I mean show and in the spirit of the film maker, and in the spirit of Mel Brooks.
Mel Brooks impersonation in monologue:
"Sueet, I will let you have this" "If you can sleep with three F-DICS in one night, I will let you earn the fourth" "Sway me and persuade me and let me file my EEOC case in your briefcase, since it could not be heard". "If it explodes, then the Hezbollah put it there and I would not depose my girlfriends brother for killing a winch such as yourself".
Mel Brooks cleans dirt from under his nail.
"Do you see this piece of tiny shee-it under my finger nail" "It is Kurt Dirt" "I don't mind, as long as you come and come and come and come, four times, three for them and one for me" "Office slut". "Kurt Brown, now known as Saint Ram Bone, is a saint". "Saint Ram Bone wants to know, are you still the office slut or has the new masa or masta or master or whatever his or IT's name is moved in to the Sueet's quarters? Her size seventy seven balloon underwear?"
A cow bell rings in the distance:
"Is that you or me, Office slut?"
It rings again, a moaning sound.
"The new masta is still the same masta at the f-dick Sueet. Who is IT?" "I hear a cow in the swamp singing a tune" "It must be lost, like you, office slut, Sueet Carol, ARD are we?"
Mel Brooks impersonator continues to clean under his nail
"You know Sueet, after what you and Masa did to me at the F-DIC, I had to resort unbeleivable measures to stay alive. I impersonated a cow in a swamp for a child's puppet play to be televised. I used you for my perspiration, I mean inspiration. Because you are a loose cow slut".
"I am a virtuoso now you Sueet Carol ARD cow slut. You should check out my website, Mobile Audit Club, and the Mobile Audit Club band". There you will find all you need to come you entertained. I wish I could have photos of the federal government or whatever IT was injecting me" "Ah Yeah, We are about to go to wart over that one"
"Senator Balfour of Germany, I mean Russia, I mean Georgia USA, Snellville wants to forcibly inject people for Veneral warts, a new vaccine" "I thought maybe we could experiment with you, since you are the office slut. A day late and not a wart short but at least we can pretend. Damn it is hot in here. It must be this talk about the office slut."
Sueet Carol N Masa Shee-it. What a duo, bet those bedclothes stunk like grandmama's putrid poultry droppings on the collard greens. Greedy winch deserves to walk the streets in rags, like me.
Segment April 28, 2007:NEEDLES_intentional_MCCAIN_bushz_GENETIC_engineer_
The most interesting thing about life is its desire to survive. Take a bacteria or a virus for instance as my example and then compare it to your own grand existences or lack thereof.
The other tendency is toward intelligence in a competitive environment, and we all know that is a slippery slope when looking for ethical behavior in a starving environment.
The human mind is a loaded trigger when prepared correctly. There are those who would cut out the universe to hold their own little sector captive.
By integrating the replicative genome of the virus that can not be duplicated, and then placement into an aggregate medium, the flesh of the cortex and perhaps to deeper structures, by use of implementation of replicative gene into the human gene for the gray matter of the cerebral cortex.
Lest we forget exclusion some members of society from the financial and legal arena. Technology leaves a trail of deception, that is remarkable. Add in "Collusion" in the government and criminal sectors, i.e. the lesser minds reign, and you have a dead and corrupted society like the hinterlands of central Italy, that eventually languished like a third world as a result. I now can not afford a decent apartment in Italy, or California, or Seattle, and I was almost killed in Louisiana by government associated criminals and I was under attack in Vancouver, BC, Canada.
I went to New Orleans yesterday. That would be a good place to set up a laboratory to do it, right after you make people stop going on a rampage. I would recommend the opening of Cannabis clubs to attract the more jet-set geneticists and their clients of the Bay Area of San Francisco and Amsterdam. They are getting older and the rich do not give a damn where they put their money, as long as there is a return on investment. Another cold hard fact of the greed sector of human psychology.
Right after the opening of the genetics laboratory utilizing my ideas and others of course, I will see a new collective to deal with "IT". Or perhaps, that will be it. Right or wrong? Genetic manipulation? No answer. Right or wrong? Forced Injections on compliant individuals who are cooperating with authorities? The answer to the first question about genetic manipulations is that it will go on whether you want it to or not, and likely has for years. Forced injections are allowed in widespread use across the USA. In 1999 at Los Angeles Westwood Veterans Administration Hospital on many USA veterans. In 2001 on myself, for having information on corrupt federal authorities and for daring to survive. They or IT sets traps for you, for us. Gun ownership is counter productive. You really need other weapons, more discrete or less choppy.
They can do it everywhere, and I look at the top of the pyramid of IT and I see shee-it. If it does not have humane conscience, it is IT, tagged.
Segment_April 28, 2007:COMPUTER_lesson_CTRL_F___COMPUTER_lesson_CTRL_F___ Today's computer class, is to find the dead girls last name. She was a bit of a sauvant of some sort with a foresight to some strange deaths.
To do a search on the webpage for Kelly, go to the site, hold down the control and f key and you should see the FIND pop-up menu.
Type in the word KELLY. Press Enter.
It is on a blog.
REPOST OF THE ARTICLE LINKED ABOVE IS HERE
Segment_April 28, 2007:COMPUTER_lesson_CTRL_F___COMPUTER_lesson_CTRL_F___ Today's computer class, is to find the dead girls last name. She was a bit of a sauvant of some sort with a foresight to some strange deaths.
To do a search on the webpage for Kelly, go to the site, hold down the control and f key and you should see the FIND pop-up menu.
Type in the word KELLY. Press Enter.
It is on a blog.
Segment April 26, 2007:MULTI_phasic_RAIN_bow Today's topic is multi-phasic physics, and what I will term the dual-opposition phase of physics and the eventual evolution of life and its struggle. Although much of this is conjecture, I explore these things with good reason.
I have elaborated on the topic of how I see how the creator can feel, and the so-called beginning of time as flesh bearing beings can espouse as to their existence. The topic is somewhere here on the Mobile Audit Club website.
To begin with, for the creator to feel in the flesh, there has to be resistance between two forces, and from those two forces are torrents of power opposed. This idea puzzles me only slightly as I look at my own conflict with some of those in power around me. I am kind and caring, at least I am humane and would deny no one access to speak. But it happens to me, to us, everyday in these damned United States, and apparently into Canada and also apparently down into Mexico and most likely around the globe.
My native city's government is closed to me, and the votes they count are not even real votes in total. I feel sorry for the common inhabitants of my native city, and in much of the United States and the world. We are divided and splintered and often we are caught in the opposing torrents of the opposing forces and fight with each other. It is so primitive and such a waste of energy and potential. One hand obviously subdues the other.
So be it. May the most advanced hand subdue the other in the coming wars. Let us hope it is not severed as we may find ourselves useless in the age old battles once we are resurrected as one. But then again, like a crab with one claw, we may remember it next time around. Something tells me the creator is familiar with the one handed crab. Its chances of survival are likely nil in times of hardship and struggle with two handed crabs.
Now, back to the opposing forces. We grind against each other from the beginning. Out comes life and death, pieces and remnants and first beings spun from those spinning eddies of flesh and steel and stone. Wax and wane, oppose and counter-oppose, is how I envision the macrocosmic nature of these two fields, each with life and death in its circles.
Something tells me though that in the end, we will find that the creator sometimes lends a hand to that component he sees moving in the design envisioned at the start and end. To that I lean toward life and look out my window. Life is everywhere here on this planet, even in the most barren desert. Empathy toward living beings is like intelligence. It is a form of intelligence and it has been discovered that human empathy is housed in most part in the right frontal lobe. Many serial killers and sociopath killers were damaged in their brain's right frontal lobe. The rest of their brain malfunctions in some part because in totality, as envisioned in the creators initial design, part of the whole is missing.
I was led in some ways when I was young, down misled paths. I do not think it was intentional but it was consequential. I missed many golden opportunities. Yet, I learned, I look, I have even taught myself to use both lobe of my brain by practicing the art of art and math, and then I have played one handed golf with each (That is something I do not encourage for all, because without proper care you can damage your elbow and arms. I am a natural athlete and inclined to be ambidextrous since birth, and, it appears I also have small wings on my thoracic vertebrae X rays. It could be Pterodactyl fingers, I do not know). Today, I see the beauty in all life, in particular in the predominant races of thinking beings. My cup is full, and I pity those who do not reach this point in their lives. Perhaps in the next. That place I remember in my memory or imagination that is like Heaven. I have also outlined it here on the Mobile Audit Club website somewhere.
Now back to those two fields which compete. It is possible that one of them could attain a sort of higher level consciousness in some matter of battle or conflict. It could harness all the disparate parts of its being and be a mighty torrential and military force for all who confront it from the other field. I will call one the A and the other the A', which is A-prime, as I have denoted these fields in my other writings. In theories of evolution and variation, the two fields could be so disparate and different in their inner core, that you would not even recognize the other as being a being composed of many different parts. For instance, you see 7 or 8 people coming to forcibly inject you, but they are in fact, at least 2 or more in that other being, and possibly all 7 or 8. That is just a thought and it may be impossible to prove it since we are the other beings domain.
I am left handed predominantly. I am right handed to a lesser extent but still I am right handed also, depending on the vocation or action I intend to accomplish. Sometimes I play, such as with chopsticks. It is fun and funny and I encourage that over golf. You might get thumb strain, but it is better than one hand golfers elbow and being put in the hospital for a bad arm.
If you have lost an arm, you can still use that other part of the brain that is your weakest, by training yourself to do those things housed as a specialty in the other lesser hemisphere of the brain. I often hear, "I can't do math" "I can't play music" "I can't I can't". That is your weakness, your childish side wanting to play in its own familiar back yard with its own familiar toys. Do not give in, challenge yourselves, and challenge the opposing forces, but be careful, that opposing force out there is often a sociopath and lethal. See the forced injections by the regime of IT. See the useless wars such as Vietnam and Iraq and Afghanistan and North Korea. See the lopsided and falling down house. See the governments madmen calling those who are sane and humane, insane. That is nothing new. That is the weakness of the damaged opposing force when it is in battle. It reveals itself by looking for its reflection in you, the humane, and it sees the inhumane or at least, the indifferent, as what it is doing is what is known as "Projecting", projecting its own self image from its self conscious on to you.
So A and A' go at it daily. You do not know whose side you are on until you run into the inhumane, and then you see the cue, just as I have. I have missed many golden opportunities in this life. And somehow, I scoop up what it is left and hold it to the light to see, "The truth". We need leaders with their "Entire" mind's eye open. This is no game, this is the most serious venture, the big game.
Now to talk about multi-phasic physics. Imagine a rainbow, a huge rainbow, not only do you see ROYGBIV, red orange yellow green blue indigo and violet, but you see the other bands of the rainbow, and you have to use your imagination here, but they are there. There are gaps in this rainbow. Gaps you can not explain. There is a reason for this and it has to do with the beginning. The beginning of the conflict of A and A'. Now imagine a being housed in that rainbow, or at least that beings thoughts as in brainwave form. To think, it has to draw parallels and contra-indicators, in much the same way a navigator takes a "Fix", to locate his boat at sea. He has to have objects or bodies that are as far apart as possible to triangulate his ships position. He can not get a good fix if the bodies are 180 degrees apart in total, or juxtaposed. He can draw a conclusion, but he needs a lesser disagreement, and those at 90-degree confluences are the best and leaves the fix to be known at a lesser chance of error in locating his ships position. If it was a machine, it would be spinning at an oblique angle, spinning, looking for that diamagnetism that is of beauty and least resistance, and for the navigator of the boat, least error.
So this being can learn to manifest itself at these positions on the band. This is all fine and good for A, but what about A'. A' is not in the same hemisphere in total but A' is caught, part and parcel in A and is to be devoured. That is the quagmire and that is where the creator tilts his hat and his hand. He has invested in A, and A' is not his only child, and A is not the A' side of his mind, and he definitely does not want to lose a hand or claw. After all, there is a struggle to be waged here.
I hope you understand me and I will return to this. I am not adverse to A', I am only adverse to being subjugated and killed. I want a hand in the game. The hunt is squalid and sallow. I do not want to be swallowed and I am counting on the creator to balance this game. If not, I want to be the dead claw, and removed from the game. I see no point in being there for the battle to watch a lesser mind tell me what to do and to tell me I am to be killed or swamped, while I can see and reveal his idiocy to my fellows, but at the same time watch as he bowls over me with what he had learned and horded.
The creator is not retarded or a manic depressive, and neither am I or my other fallen and killed colleagues, regardless of whether I am A or A' material. I am juxtaposed. I have quelled my fists so many times that I feel I am running out of lucky dodges. Most recently I was almost shot in the eye. I was poisoned years ago and lost part of vision in both eyes. Yesterday I saw a Caucasian man missing one eye on his left side at a cafeteria with a patch over it. At another table, a darker skinned woman had a patch over the right eye. He went to talk to her when he left the table. Across from me was an older man of darker complexion eating his meal. A $20 bill was hanging half way out his pocket. I wanted to tell him but I did not want to be intervening in the man's life, and thought I would tell him if he dropped it on his way out. Instead, a woman who looked like my beloved grandmother, now deceased, came to sit with him and have her meal. I am sure she told him to put his money back in his pocket. He was about to lose it. When the man stood up, he looked rather unhappy. Perhaps he thought I was going to watch him and pick up his money. I was like the creator at that moment. I just stood back and watched and waited to see if things would correct themselves and they did.
There are many lessons out there. All you have to do is open your minds eye. Beware though, it appears that A' has gone mad. A' is on the hunt, the kill, and the creator has saved me and my vision many times. Both by giving me judgment and reflexes like a wild nocturnal cat. I love to travel. Where next Saint Ram Bone? Of I should say Who What When Where Why and How;)
This is Kurt Brown, stage name Saint Ram Bone, coming to a cobblestone street or quarry near you and A'. Evil is ignorance.