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Mobile Audit Club

Love Line 7, Science and Comedy

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Love_Line_7

 

This page has Comedy, Weapons and Defense Designs, and Science. Skip segments by doing a CTRL_F or Find for "Segment"

 

Segment August 15, 2009: DELUSIONAL_hallucination_IMPOSED_satellite_DIVIDED_human_RACE_conquered_HARNESSED

Some people appear to be fake people to me when they start attacking anyone verbally or otherwise simply because they are different from themselves in race or nationality.  In the South East USA, there is extreme poverty in rural communities and the smaller cities.   Unfortunately you do hear some racist remarks, unprovoked and unwarranted.  I have heard it from both white and black.  But I never asked until recently if it would be possible to have someone, a person, projected into a situation to spark a verbal confrontation.

I feel that another species could use higher technologies inflaming racism and nationalism as a way to conquer and harness mankins by always keeping him fighting both men that are near and those that are far.    Of course the possibility of making men delusional can also leave a society constrained and milked, no pun intended.  That can be done by satellite from spacem or land based transmitting towers or apparatus. 

I am fairly certain beyond a reasonable doubt that some group has already conquered space in much more elaborate mechanisms of transport  than those we see on television.   It is also known that genetic engineering is the only way any plant or animal can live and adapt in a zero gravity environment.  The men you see in the future may shock you, literally.   The possibility of being conquered without a shot being fired is always a threat and a possibility.  Of course, in a delusional state, would it matter?

The lies of brotherhood may not be lies.  We may have in our midst the fake human or those that are damaged mentally or thwarted in development.  As any humane man if given the possibility will walk away from another without attacking him.  Some live for the sport of the kill or the taking.  I lost my will to live after being attacked injected tortured and jailed in early 2001.  I would gladly assist those that are real to divide that which has us conquered.  Mankind is not up to it, obviously, therefore we are destined for the end, or perhaps, it is just my time, we shall see.

Segment August 14, 2009: TIME_space_CONTINUUM_abstract_LEAP_speed_SHARPEN_life_WITHIN

Theoretically time and space has always been the most difficult issue to grapple with in life.   I believe that God's construction of the universe is even constrained to some extent when developing vast regions through contemplation.  All is laid out in history past present and future and it is all only a matter of time.   Warfare shows that one can escape detection from others by developing a shield that envelopes around the opponent.  Bacteria do the same thing when attacking cells.  The bacteria will put out a slime, or a shield rather in a circumscribed perimeter around themselves that serves to protect themselves and devour all that it can digest.

In regard to speed and motion, one of the most amazing feats in God's repertoire of the time and space problem when developing or moving things or thoughts around is the Central Nervous System in Living Animals, in particular humans and other vertebrates.  To overcome time and space in relaying messages from our fingertips and skin, tongue, eyes, hearing, smell, it is crucial to be fast, because the slow are killed and devoured.  The time for a message to go from our feet to our brain is made much quicker due to myelinated nerve fibers.   An analogy would be if you had a rope and on that rope you placed globs of grease along the length of the rope and leaving space of barren rope between the globs of grease.  If you took a stone and threw the stone at a perfect angle over the grease and onto the first glob then the stone would skip quickly from one glob of grease to another for a very long distance because there would be very little friction and the drag coefficient would be reduced.    However if you took the same stone on threw it on the rope without grease then theoretically the stone would not go far and it would be much slower and would not go as far due to no grease. 

Warfare and time and space.  We have been conquered, or have we?  The torture I endured at the hands of the American people at the VA in LA and in Flagstaff at their medical center all began after working at the FDIC in  San Francisco where I was forced out of the job.  The USA government is filthy with money launderers and murderers.  The entire idea of positive capitalistic endeavor means nothing, and any thing goes, and the wealthy win.  It takes money to wage warfare against the public.

Let the games begin.  We are no longer allies with those who blatantly abuse me.  I am alone in this or I should say, those like myself are alone in this.  I really do not think for many of us, there ever was a chance or that there ever were opportunities when under the control of lesser beings, their constructs and their people.

Segment July 31, 2004:  Comedy_Lost and Found Craigslist Repost Sweet Carol Diaghram Naval Air Station__________________

It was posted recently on craigslist in Pensacola Florida that a diaghram was found outside of the enlisted men's club at the Naval Air Station in Pensacola Florida. 

They also found an STD Pamphlet published in San Francisco for new FDIC bank examiner trainees.

So, we made up a song and played with the used diaghram in its case labeled, "Sweet Carol". 

We looked at the sun through Sweet Carol's used diaghram and noted it was ard and smelled of POF and we made up a song titled,

"Sweet Carol Load-Eye" or Lodi, depending on if you know California.

Here is "Sweet Carol Lodi" in a link on Indymedia (Help support independent media).

A final note :  You will discover when you are young that the doors of government employment are barely open, and then, as you get older, they never open again.  The USA is not what they claim and their Equal Employment Opportunity Rights or their civil rights or their human rights, are all ignored.  I see their supporters standing around, waiting to pounce on me or us, and eventually they do and always have.   I urge you to look to the Sweet Carols of the federal crimes syndicates of money launderers, dope growers, smugglers, and banking crimes officianados all in high government position and ask "Sweet Carol Lodi", who the fuck are you?  What are you?  Why the fuck are you here, and what controls your digits and who will wash our dishes?  The day for warfare is everyday, and we are their victims.  They drew first blood on me on 4-23-2001 that I am aware.  That was in LA at a federal facility, and my only crime was to be honest and open as an FDIC bank examiner. Their government has a criminal faction.  They appear devoid of anything, other than a diaghram.

In my delirium and ecstasy of being in battle with the immortal enemies of mankind, I venture into my own world, and sometimes into the unmistakable void many of us do not dare to venture and try to avoid.   The traps of the business and political world in a controlled setting where technological manipulations allow the movement of key players into key positions to further each of the other is common, I am certain.  The lies of trustworthiness and the scowling dog like humans that pick up the remains of the victims of the greater horde's battles. 

The symbol of the American Government is right on the mark on many occasions, it is a bird that eats carrion or the rotting road kill as we see it.  It is an Eagle and an eagle is  equivalent to .a vulture when it is eating dead and rotting meat, a carrion eater.  Symbols are like stones locked in time, and you can not move that symbol forward.  The bald eagle is not seen today as the bald eagle of that distant year, at least not in its representation of American governmental behavior.  The kindest leaders were likely bushwhacked or shanghaied, and likely in this day by genetically engineered and improved humans who are high level sociopaths, and we have the remains, the vultures as our leaders today.  Unfortunately, we are their prey and they are their prey also.  They injected and tortured me to make me sign documents in 2001 after FDIC bank examiner employment and my investigative journalism endeavors.  They should have killed the federal agent who injected me on 4-23-2001, as I would have gladly watch him be executed on 9-11-2001, and that is just the opinion of the veteran who was a victim of the 2001 American Holocaust, and I was told by one of their dissenters for me to remember that the federal agents of the crime syndicates drew first blood, and another inmate or perhaps an agent in inmate clothing told me on a bus while I was in shackles, that the Los Angeles Veterans Administration Westwood was doing forced medical experiments, and that was in May of 2001 I was told, and they were ordered to stop injections in 1999.  They did not.  I want compensation of ($9.11 Million), or adjust upward if I can be on the collection of the 1.2 trillion loaned to Swiss Banks this year, 2009, as it was money sent to the international financial war criminal sects hungry gluttonous mouths and bank accounts. They will and have made slaves of us.  The up side is they will kill each other, and very soon, as one is always moving in to kill the other. 

I would prefer to sleep under a nuclear bomb cloud in Westwood Los Angeles than to be injected and tortured and my life ruined by men who I trusted.   I served the Navy there in 1982-1984 and survived a serial killer.  They are a society that deserves targeted serial killers who cut out the cancer from the throat of the government entities.  Those would be my true martry.  I will take payment though since my health is ruined and my career and my loss of all faith and hope in those who control our societies.   I will welcome the end of time for those who suffer like I do.  I will not welcome it for those who do not suffer as I and others do.   For not all deserve this sort of pain.  Everything is going under.  We are being turned on each other, like Vultures, and I ask "Is It Insane To Be Sweet." video art link at youtube.

Segment July 4, 2009: SANITY_check_PROGRAMMING_ACCOUNTING_warfare_ZION_USA 

A sanity check in accounting or programming is to look over the numbers on the printouts to make sure that things are working in the technology we are using. 

A sanity check should be used in resolving international conflicts as well, and the smaller conflicts such as those of the USA governments federal crime syndicates against the common citizen appear to have already reached their desired effect, the crippling of much of the American populace in one form or another.

Now, on the Zionist issue, there is hideous premature death everywhere in history and in present.   It appears for all groups present that is true.

The sanity check I use in this matter involves Commandments from Religious texts and my own higher intelligence, that of the humanely calculative portion in the right frontal lobe of the brain.  If someone is injured there you should have pity on them because they may lack some higher humane thoughts in a rational and calculative fashion.  Therefore in a sense they may be retarded in their capacity to feel empathy for other humans, or anything else.

Until recently, I had never heard of Neturei Karta, which is an Orthodox Jewish group.  They are opposed to the reformation of Israel until the Messiah returns.   They base this fact on writings in the Talmud and Torah.   I have spoken with them and they seem very rational to me.   Their goals are likely a warning of a sort to other Jews as well. 

Have you performed your sanity check on your reading of the Talmud and Torah and how it relates to the reformation of Zion.  That effects the behavior of those war criminals in the United States claiming religious piety or judicial oversight in the United States but who have apparently no humane conscience for many overseas or in the United States.

 It was as brutal for many people after World War II as it was during, and I am speaking of those who fled to Israel after the brutal killing in Europe in World War II, in particular those who advocated a military stance to open the doors to the populations who wanted to reside there in Palestine. 

There always be a debasing factor.  It is called brutality in survival.  It is odd but predictable.

Ah yes, the game of life.  What is real, what is projection?  Has anyone ever considered a virtual reality sort of game where battles are waged and the victory is lent to the underdog in many cases.  Yes, it is possible, on a daily basis.  But overall, no matchmakers make better matches than in the world of the humane. 

Segment June 25, 2009: GREATER_lesser_CELESTIAL_sphere_PHYSICS_laws_CHANGE_shell_BREAD_brain_GOLGI

In the nature of life, we often think from the inside out, meaning from the I to the greater thing out there, that thing we experience and sense and is known as our surroundings.

In contemplating the nature of that existence, from the outside to the inside, I see the outer shell as what physicists claim to have seen, which is an area beyond the closely visible outer space to that area that encompasses many things and forces and it is all in a shell shaped form, a sort of loaf bread appearance, or that of a brain, or perhaps even what I would say in medical terms is shaped like a Golgi Body. Some may even call it the outer nebulae exposing the outer shell of the alleged big bang from the big bang theory.    If I am not mistaken the Golgi Body houses the electron transport system of each of our cells.  Of course in the nature of greater nature we can not expect to find exact replicas of what we see at this level and perspective in life form.  If you had another sense where you could see things from the largest vision, or rather future prediction, you would likely see or be able to envision golden opportunities of both good and bad.

In the inner shell there will likely be those who will try to replicate what has happened in the outer shell, in order to maintain an advantage or for their own progress.  And like the little algae in the first pond, the carp lives on that mess, that living thing.  One feeds upon another in the inner shell, a sort of crushing grinding machine, with cycles of birth and decay of all material and other forms. 

The theories on cross matrix regeneration has an endless paradigm, and all I want to do is get to the outer shell, where the laws of physics change, or perhaps it is just a small membrane where light travels through.    I will bring some algae compatible salve.  Snatch will likely bring a needle.  Snatch is Sheriff Jack Tillman, Food FUnds Thief, O'possum Fairy, At Large in Mob AL, the banana republic from Hell, where the federal snakes keep an eye on things high and low and beat me from government for no legal reason other than they are power hungry apes who consider themselves or IT self a divine order. We are divided..    The regime incriminates the innocent and gives relief to those criminals who are their cohorts.  Fecal matter clumps together, here and there.  Perhaps the universe is that, fecal matter in a sewer, or perhaps we are in a cell or part a cell in the other body part of that greater outer being.

Forgive my bliking of my eyes in some of my videos. My eyes were burned with poisons and I was partially blinded by poisons when in forced federal exile. Never trust them to give you back up when you need it most.

Segment 6-11-2009: COSMOS_shell_LIVING_organism_SINGLE_cell_MULTI_cellular

In considering the greater body of the cosmos I remembered talk of an outer shell to our universe where the laws of physics change.  Quasars and blackholes and galaxies and planets and suns and all other fields and forces and forms in the universe may be in fact a construct of a larger living organism.  

Now, I often consider how this thing is shaped beyond the area where the laws of physics change.    Is there another cellular structure like ours bordering ours?  Does it bud off to form another cellular structure (universe) like ours?

The constant boil of the universe may be a phenomena at the lowest or highest levels or perhaps life as we know it is in fact only an illusion when the greater body or conscience is known.  The outer limits is where our imagination should travel in freeing us from our current dilemmas and our goal should be to reduce our tragedies.

Segment 6-8-09: GRANDFATHER_yurok_INDIAN_reservation_EXILE_probation_SNATCH_tale

I want to Whistle A Sweet Carol.  When  I was in forced probation and exile for being an open and honest bank examiner for the FDIC, and during the last two years of the exile when I was in Eureka California in 2003 and 2004, I used to sing a song with the Yurok Indian elder at the reservation at Big Lagoon many called Uncle Tom and some called Grandfather.  I would say, Grandfather, sing me Sweet Carol Lodi, and he would hum another tune while I sang Sweet Carol Lodi.  He asked me one time, "My almost white grandson, why did you come to the reservation?"  "I told him, I was attacked and almost killed and forced into exile for being an open and honest federal bank examiner, and the federal government's crime syndicates had the California government put me in Los Angeles for my time in exile. I told them I wanted to go to where I could feel safe, among the Indians of Northern California".  Grandfather said, "You are a wise man grandson and pointed to the door and his hand showed the government leprosy sign, the one I used in the video, Stone Cold In My Electric Chair, alleged to be played by many bands who know of Mobile Audit Club.  There behind the door, outside was the spirit of the bear that got away, and a fence was there that was knocked over where the bear had fled years earlier. He loved that story and I loved to hear him tell it. Grandfather was the last great bear hunter of the Yurok tribe and I was the last great criminal investigator of internal crimes at the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation (FDIC), a federal agency.

Beyond the door is where we had spoken of visions and seeing Sheriff Jack Snatch The Fairy Possum Till Man of Mob AL with his ass on fire as we prepared the barbeque. We played a game, a game as if I cared about Snatch The Fairy Possum. I begged for 10 cents worth of mercy for the possum and did not care as he had stolen our food and we had decided to ask the spirit God's to make him suitable for our lunch. The possum was funniest when the peace pipe was put up his ass by the bi-sexual squaw and set it on fire, drawing shotguns or puffs of smoke from his rectum and into the smoke tent. We sang the song, Snatch The Fairy Possum in the usual fashion, with his Yurok language spirit rendition and me with mine. Grandfather would say, "This grandson of mine painted the Queerest of the Queer on Snatch The Fairy Possum. This is a very momentous occassion." Grandfather was pleased that I used henna to paint the possum, like the Indian women used in India.

Finally I said, "Grandfather, life is a lie.  No matter how many times I get shot, no matter how many times I die, I keep coming back, I can not die, and life is Hell if it is not a lie."    Grandfather said, "you must look at life as the Queerest of The Queer, you know you are f-cked your whole life.   You can not just lay down and die, you must live even though  you are f-cked and hope to fight again so you can be on top next time, or bottom, depending on your preference. 

To be IRS or not to be any thing with government agency initials, that is the question.  The bucket's pipes lead somewhere distant from its intended source and our economy bleeds and our children are going to hungry, just as the children of many slums around the Earth.  I want to work back at the bloody F-DIC in San Francisco or better yet, the Treasury, as I have not been forbidden employment there, unless through Sicilian necktie fashion or in a similar manner.    I will also work for the Treasury because the government banking crime syndicates hate me so damned much.  If we can not have our banking system, we should just throw it in  the TRUnK, and I am thinking of leaving the USA to find work because the regime has crushed my hopes of work here, at least in traditional values. Never trust them, the international regime in control of the USA and their followers, as the international warlord regime in power is the the "It", they lie, they cheat, they steal, they inject us with chemicals forcibly and do forced medical procedures. They also kill, and someday, they will sleep with their victims.

Segment 5-8-09: MRI_mind_SCAN

The first step in reducing the human mind of any individual is to reduce it to digitized form, and that is known as an MRI or CAT SCAN.   I believe it is the MRI is most notable to this example.  The flipping of every atom in the body as is illustrated in these photos on google.

The awakening is when you realize your brain has been read by a machine and an egghead felon ape with a penchant for arithmetic simpy because you put your head inside that circle shaped like an ape's asshole, and you listen to it whiz around your head. 

By exciting every atom of the brain into a higher level and interpreting hertz fluctuations and readings on the micro-molecular level with all things emulated from the human being, one can read the mind of every one and every thought, and likely to some extent control you on the same level, although forced injections of chemicals may be necessary for the latter and maybe even the former.   Things are as simple as an equation at some point, and can be amplified to encompass a planet, or more.  Just as one broadcasts, one can receive, but some things collapse upon themselves. 

Just as many of my writings are warfare and other diabolical techniques are derived from real world observations and extrapolations, I recall being forced to have an MRI, supposedly, after forced injections some time between 4-23-2001 and 5-2-2001, and that was at the Los Angeles federal facility in Westwood California.  I trusted the Veterans Administration to allow me to park outside of a fence.   I no longer trust any government agency or building and urge men to protect their women and limit their passage into the government buildings that are closed to us, including the Mobile Alabama County Courthouse and many of those oppressive governments of this damned planet.

I heard a Billy Joel song the other day that said that he knew they wanted him paralyzed.  The government and much of society is like that.  They want you crippled in every way possible so you are easier to kick around.    I think we can cure severed spinal chords by integrating the gene that is in blood vessels that causes their re-growth and integrate that factor into the growth factor of portions of stem cells of the CNS type and integrating the growth pattern in a preset or blown up grid over the existing and broken spine from below the blood brain barrier into the spinal chord.  The primary complication is differing tissue types, that of the tissue of the veins and that of the tissue of the spinal chord.   It is ironic that proposed cure for war inflicted injuries is based on the fact that I have sat in a room full of men in wheelchairs, victims of war and other tragedies.

Segment 2-12-2009: Today, I, Kurt Brown, alias Saint Ram Bone am feeling very sick.  It is as if I have been poisoned in mind, body, and spirit.  I know right from wrong, and I can play a song with words from the notes if I play with my fingers and leave the pick from the guitar alone. 

I went to a mall on the 10th.  I had bought a sandwich and drink prior.  I had left the drink in my truck, the truck in which the federal government had the keys while I was incarcerated and injected forcibly in 2001 after FDIC employment.  The truck in which the Flagstaff Arizona Medical Center had the keys to when they forcibly injected me when I went to them after seeing what appeared to be a toxic waste crew in New Mexico and a burn on my neck.   I drank from that cup after going into Best Buy, an electronics department store.  I drank one sip and then was petrified.  I dumped it out.  I feared poisoning of the drink by my enemies.  After all, I chase government criminals like a detective who chases child molesters. 

When I went to Wal Mart in Pensacola, a large department store, I had the usual fear.  The fear of the governments watchmen or thing that controls us running up to the counter before or after I arrive, celebrating my return so they crown themselves jubilant that I have returned and they can run chaste after me, calling me the thief, the whore, the liar.  I often wonder if every employee who is not of their fold at those stores has been raped by our enemies in some form or another.

When I was led down the stairs at the LA VA in Westwood in early 2001 after being jailed there for several days, I was put onto a table and they alleged a Cat Scan of the head.  I was not feeling sick really until after their abuses.  I had a huge cut or scar in my mouth years later that became infected.  A doctor in Los Angeles said he had not seen anything of that sort and it reached to the top of my mouth from the gumline.

I am awake at 1 a.m., awakened from sleep by horrid dreams.  I have asked to return to the fold to the front lines of bank examination in the federal government.  It is not our federal government, it is not our money, I feel we have fallen.  A woman in a dream told me they had taken my mind apart to see how I worked, how we worked.  I pray for the creator to end this.  I had a dream we are going back to the dark ages.  Let us hope they never turn on the lights again for this species as it is imperfect, not done, and those who accomplished our overtaking are likely no better, undone.

My life has been horrific, my life has been jubilant, my life is better off to not have ever been, but perhaps I am series of mistakes, both within and without.  I wonder if they have us playing with clumps of radio-active material as children and persuading us to eat and to die in their sleep.

Change is upon us, upon me, at all times.  I would prefer a taco instead of my home.  I no longer desire my trap that I bought and lost everything over.  All I ever had was the freedom and ability to roam.  Now I have a suitcase box and these old computing machines.  All I ever had was laid out in stars and fields of green.  I had it all, and now I have this box of limited recompense and worth.  Everyone knows it, especially I.  I await the great storm, when they and or I die.  It  has happened before and it will happen again, but when.

Today, I turned to the Bible again.  I feel like a holocaust victim, a deceased end, a long time lover gone, and barely a friend.  I turned to Hosea 9, Punishment for Israel, and I see it is real.  Yesterday in my delirium in contracting to get lost funds for a dear friend, I turned to song of songs and it said how wonderful were the eyes, and I thought is this the lovers end.

I await the final battle.  Recently I had a customer come look at my box, my end, my home owned by the bank.  I did not want to show every room so I lied and told the family that my mother was alive and sleeping in that end.  Later the man looked over my right shoulder and thought he saw something.  I did not know if he was trying to distract me or ridicule me or  just making a comment.  After all, I carry on my back, my long lost friend, till the end, till death do us apart, again and again.

The lies of mass media.  The ridicule of our and my suffering.  The loss of civility.  The inconspicuousness conspicuousness of a lover whose love will likely end, only to be my whore, again and again. 

I remember when I was a child.  I wanted the world to end.  Sometimes I hid to save what was left, now I see the children, afraid and bereft, some smiling, likely at wits end.  This is the end, I pray, again and again.  Falling is what my sister saw me do in a dream.  Perhaps from skyscraper, perhaps from wits end.

Today post will be moved to the Love Line Pages as it borders on poetry, but today I put it in Daily Foreword Notes hoping you to pray for this, IT's,  day to end.  I feel we and I have been manipulated.  Do not feel alarmed or threatened when we ascend or descend.  Just as I told a lover when an allegedly abandoned plane was about to crash, or more likely be shot down recently, she said it was unusual when she got out of bed to look out the window and it sounded like a war was starting as we heard it fly by with jets perched on its wings end, "Come to bed, there is nothing we can do about it if it is the end".  I rolled over and went back to sleep.  It does not matter to me if I am in her bed or a thousand more women's bed, as long as I am not sleeping alone, in the end.  I really have no one, just as predicted by a woman who said she could give me riches I have never known.  Perhaps she lives on the road as I do, at least in the wealthiest moments, maybe traveling penniless, but with a friend.  Perhaps too this suffering will end.  Kill me but do not think I will ever bow down to the loathsome ever again.

Can you decrypt my American Holocaust Number X 017 911 84? Can you decrypt my alias Saint Ram Bone?

017 for James Bond type endeavors, what a joke, what a war. 911 because the government did not respond to an attempt on this bank examiner, federal, informants life in 2001. 84 as in George Orwells book 1984 and the main character who was caught and punished doing the forbidden, consorting in forbidden areas with like minds, and he was taken down a hall way after being fattened and fed, and likely shot in the head. The instructor from a dream looked at me rather funny in a conversation of this book I had not read during my college years, and only read after I was given the warning by a friend who saw the Holocaust I was in in the American end.

Saint is because I may already be dead. Ram because that is what I was driving and behaving as on that fateful night of my first wits end and assassination attempt against me on post-St. Valentines Day plus 3 nights in 2001. Bone because that is what my head looks like after loss of hair and shaving it, and especially when I ride in that gloriously ridiculous contraption I call my truck, or Truk. N Wor B Nits U A Truk. Do you know that one? I should not divulge or partake, but who gives a care when you want or are in the end. My mother obviously had a sense of humor, or could she really read from the wrong end. Hurry, be silent, I do not want to awaken her, in the box I dwell, she is on the other end, sleeping under a light, likely whistling a Sueet Carol.

Segment November 13, 2008: TRISECTION_circum_SPECTRUM_macro

In the theory of the lie that is much of the life of the average citizen in the United States and for many around the world, from the lie of Liberty and Justice For All in the largest prison nation on the planet, to clanging bells declaring Liberty in a nation whose controlling faction willfully allows injections on innocent and compliant citizens with chemicals of unknown and untrustworthy consistency.

The list of horrors go onward.  I will therefore discuss controlling of society in that sense of hopelessness many share.  

In the micro view, you are controlled as a I.  Near starvation, living from paycheck to paycheck, your life youth ebbing daily and yearly, in a sea of uncaring and attacking men and women who are intent upon treating those around them like idiots and unwanted dogs.  So you smile at the good moments and conceal the hope that the dog in you is killed and that they too are left in the dieing pet and slave or worker graveyard.  Yet you live generation to generation, your children  awash in the lies and pestilence of the enemy horde and friendly lie of a neighborhood around you when you were a child and those children when they are children.  Those children, us, we, them,  have endured greater poisoning at each generation.  We know our government is not ours.  They are awash and dead, and soon time will show the evidence.  That is the hope, that is the fear.

In the macro view, a truly large view from the edges of the known cosmos in our rules of light, as if in a spectrum of light, you will see many colors, the photons emitting a certain wavelength, unique as a thumbprint.  Now, if you see yourself controlled or out of control, try seeing yourself as a photon in that ray of light and spectrum. 

You can not cross the spectrums that may be your life elsewhere, at least not that you are aware.   I am speaking of consciousness on the macro scale, a revolutionary concept, but considering that the outer edges of our cosmos where the laws of physics change there is a constant shape and form, under pressure, much as a balloon shape with wires tied to form the shape of a loaf of bread or a brain or tissue or medical organ.

Could some cross those barriers?  My career was ruined and the government does not care.  I relied on the government at an early age.  I should have gone to law school.  We are always at war in our barren and wretched society of no justice and little hope. 

I welcome the coming technological wars.  But, I know it will be the same as before.  Maybe it will all end this time.  So help US God.

Segment September 4, 2008:  IT_round_HEAD_one_FACTOR_traps_SOME_us

The oddest thing about life is that as you get older, you become more aware of things you overlooked in the past.  For instance, when I was at the FDIC in San Francisco, there was one employee, a sort of unforgiving and self absorbed ass of high but low rank.

His face was as round as a melon.  That is not to say that all round heads and faces are bad.  I have known a very good child who had a round face, and I counted him as one of us, the humane humans who would be assigned a task of utmost importance by the creator.  One of high rank possibly if he played his life right.  

On the other hand, in conjuring up the IT, I have to look for variables to help describe IT.  What I am really leading toward is a sort of remote control, either through mind control on us, or a true being, maybe us, who has been bent to the will of someone or something else. 

I have been harassed a lot lately in that military town known as Pensacola.  I am not pro-military and I find it to be a waste of time really.   Having served and being beaten from government and injected and even avoiding all Veterans facilities, I have to look for my antagonist, the IT, or those or that which control IT.

Life is strange, sometimes a lie, and how much is contrived in the imagination is hard to say.   We can not sample all things around us.

Even though I caught an apparent real estate scheme, there are those who seem to be proud and glad that I was swindled by fraud.  They do not even acknowledge others who were hit harder in Radon gas being in their homes with their children at risk, and they are too afraid to walk out, leaving in foreclosure. 

The round headed FDIC employee was so bizarre.  His actions were like that of an enemy combatant spy, even showing up as if it was his duty when I was terminated by a mob boss's slut for not dropping an EEOC complaint.  Imagine that, a mob boss's slut at the F-DIC terminating a disabled vet for filing an EEOC complaint.  Since that time, I have learned that is better to leave the federal government alone.  They forcibly injected me, without probable cause.  There is always hope the eskimo pie will slam them in the face.  Can you figure that one out?

Now, onto stranger things, avoiding more of the good round face and bad round face topic.  I think that many of the round faces of us were or are good leaders and that is why we are mimicked.

I want to talk about bizarre logic.  I was injected and tortured psychologically in the USA by federal officials in early 2001 for being in fear for my life.  I had been attacked and the government police ignored it in the federal branch after I contacted them.   A regional FDIC director was shot in his head in his office during the Savings and Loan Crisis which occurred during Bush Sr.'s presidency.  They called it suicide.  They called me manic depressive for surviving the attempt on my life.  Most people in fear of the government or their assassins may appear manic, like a rat in fear.  They control through fear, or IT controls through fear.

I was forced to sign documents after forced injections, threats, physical and psychological torture and forced medical procedures.  I trusted the VA back then.   Now I will not step up to the wounded warrior symptoms and experimental lab technique of the VA and federal agents.

My X number in California was X ... 911 84 It was supposed to have been dismissed, 84 is from Orwell's book 1984.  There you have it, the whole greased up show, X ... 911 84.

Segment August 9, 2008: MIND_control_HISTORY_consequence_MUTILATED_humane_HUMANS

The truth about the conquest of man is that all humane men of intelligence have been conquered.   A high probability exists that mankind is manipulated in ways that mankind could not fathom.

The idea of governments and wars for an overriding higher authority in governments leaves a lot up to speculation, but the death and suffering is real, especially those of the humane humans who were not intended to be destined for that consequence in infinity.

A stage could be set for mind control.  Executions, slaughters of multitudes, population controls, experiments and sequestering and collection of problematic individuals and bloodlines has likely been instigated against us.  You must remember too that the dark ages were not dark ages for all.

I remember Wiseman who was a young man who was forced into a military draft who came home from Vietnam and killed himself.  He was likely murdered in a sense before he ever returned from their or IT's sequestering of him and others.

If this is our plight, let's bring it to an end, one way or another.  Mind control leaves one at the mercy of the lesser beasts.

Segment June 12, 2008: BROTHER_brother_POLICE_origination_ELSEWHERE_who_WHAT_when_HOW

We may find out we have been bought and sold in the USA, if not the entire Earth.  The reason I say that is because I have made a study out of several cities in the USA, and I have even traveled abroad, observing and in some cases testing, much like professional auditors or investigators do.

In my native city of Mobile, Alabama I was speaking with a some-what relative of mine, a man of darker complexion and African descent to a large extent.  The man is a hard worker and he is a victim of the regime in power to some extent, particularly when he was younger.    He and I were talking and I asked him if he knew of anyone who was from Mobile Alabama and who worked for the Mobile Police Department.  He said, he knew of no one and he is from this wretched city just as myself.   I too have known no one from the city of Mobile who worked for the Mobile Police Department.

The reason I asked him this was because I have been beaten from government in Mobile wrongfully and I have been surrounded and harassed by the Mobile Alabama police department when I approached them to see if I could find out which cop could be held accountable for calling my home and leaving a anonymous Mobile Police Department message telling me that I could not film as a reporter in the lobby of the Mobile Alabama City Council meeting.  I am denied entry into that meeting ever since I reported at that meeting that I had been attacked a few weeks prior in February 2001 by money laundering criminal associates murderers who had attacked me on the highways after I had laid a trap to test FDIC and NTEU management at my past employer, the FDIC in San Francisco, where a regional director was found shot in the head in his office one morning with his own gun, and where I observed obvious money laundering and financial crimes at some of the banks where I was a bank examiner for them.

The relative who I was talking to told me he knew of two cops from a neighboring small town on the outskirts of the county.   Therefore, where do the police come from who reign like terrorists under the local regime over our people?

I have been harassed a lot lately in Mobile.  I am used to it and I have come to see the ruling regime as a mesh of truth and lies and deceptions, a sort of blanks and decoys cover for the real antagonists and war criminals in power.   Of course technology could be playing a part.  You can be deceived exterior to your mind, interior in your mind, and a combination of both, and you could not tell the difference unless you had special abilities or apparatus and methods, and nothing is fail-safe or fail-proof. 

Of course after living in Los Angeles and seeing what happens there.  After being forcibly injected and tortured by federal government in Los Angeles and after being abused by the State Courts,  and after discovering the federal government allowed forced injections and forced medical procedures on veterans at the federal facility at Westwood, I realized that Los Angeles is as bad as Mobile if not worse.  Of course in Arizona I was injected and robbed of money and tortured and knocked unconscious with federal approval in 2004.  So perhaps there is no safe place in the United States under the current ruling regime.  Perhaps there is no safe place on Earth.  Is mankind defective, or are we governed and ruled by defective mankind or something else?

It was said in Biblical scripture that before the end of time, many things would be revealed to mankind.  Perhaps the Bible's authors could calculate or extrapolate out from any given continuum and reach some basic assumptions that would be proven valid and reliable over time under any set of circumstances as it pertained to mankind.

I see those who encourage racism in my native city.  I grew up around it and heard from the predominant racial clusters at the time.  Both blacks and whites seemed to grovel in prejudice back then.  But what I have come to realize is that something else is happening here.  Some people actually treat others with dignity and respect and others treat everyone with indignation if they are not benefitting from and cannot benefit from them directly.

I see the racial hate groups as having leaders who try to position themselves from the bitterness and social divisions put into place through history.  But why does the government beat me, a light skinned man, from government, and why do they abuse my relative, the dark skinned man, and in ways exclude both of us from government?  As we talked, I mentioned the ideas behind not hiring locals for police work and how the system may benefit from that governmental exclusion of the local indigenous population, of any skin color.  Then we spoke of how we could benefit from having our neighbors, our family members on the Mobile Alabama City Police Department.  We could have  a sort of silent conspiracy where we quit beating each other down for non-crimes.  After all, the government robs you at any chance they can, not only in Mobile, but in Los Angeles, and we should not talk about the sanctioned murders of banking officials in that other city I observed close hand, San Francisco, where I was told to to drop and EEOC complaint or be terminated.

Some people like to see others suffer injustice.  If me and my relative are held down and pushed back, those others from the outside can enter the government and take control at all levels, which is basically what has happened.  Could an entire nation be taken over in this manner?  People or things from the outside running the police departments and government?  The answer is theoretically Yes. 

My father wanted me to be an attorney.  But now, I am hesitant to do so because I fear those inside the government buildings and the traps they have laid for us.  After all, when I went to court for raising my voice demanding my Open Meetings Law rights in 2004, I spit out blood after court, a large clot from the head.  I had a ripe headache also for that entire evening.  When I was surrounded in Mobile's police headquarters on Government Boulevard in 2008, I had an enormous headache after that one also.  Are they doing things to us that we do not know?  Should we get down on our knees and pray for the end of our species, that of humane humans, such as my relative and I, the dark skinned man and the light skinned man?

I know of people in other local cities police departments who are related or known since childhood here, and I know of people in the Sheriff's department who were locally raised.  But not in the city of Mobile Alabama police department.  Mobile has been the headquarters for many German based companies, including weapons and chemical and shipbuilding manufacturers.  I applied for a loan for a business in Missouri recently and  I was ignored.  It was a sure thing as a money maker.  But the bank did not want to talk to me. 

Ironically, I worked at a local TV station for a brief period long ago.  The manager said, "Jews own this TV station.  You do not mind working for Jews do you?"  I said, "Of course not", and I never saw the manager again.  The whole thing is suspicious in this city.  After all, the German companies are given carte blanche in establishing businesses, and the local TV station manager said it was Jewish owned.   The local TV stations and radio never talk about the exclusion of myself and my relative from government, he from voting due to a felony for a minor marijuana violation long ago, and me for daring to survive assassins associated with the financial banking crimes syndicates in the federal banking regulatory agencies.  Maybe I ask too many pointed questions.  That is what a local journalism professor told me long ago when I was training to be a reporter, "I ask too many pointed questions".  That is a loaded statement, because if your questions have no point, what is the point of asking them?

I foresee severe trouble in the USA. I hope a humane leadership of enlightenment can emerge with our people, all people, able to be part of the government, part of the society that determines the best direction for our society.  Our children are increasingly autistic due to drug abusing mothers.  It is not the marijuana that damaged them, which the government forbids and pursues, but the other drugs that the government sells legally and other drugs they import illegally.  Truth comes from the muzzle of a gun said Mao Tse Tung.  China is no different than the USA in reality.

One final note today: I have also noticed computer illiteracy in Mobile and the Mobile newsgroup has me as one of the few writers. how strange.

Segment May 25, 2008: WEAPONS_bank_EXAMINATION_warfare_THEORY

When I was bank examiner for the federal government, I soon discovered there is no love when large amounts of money are on the table.

Men are killed and set ups are made so that the entire sequence and change of structure is smooth and methodically and precisely executed, like a warm knife cutting through butter.

Technology is most coveted as weapons by the inhumane, the ignorant and the sociopath and sometimes by the farmer, and I mean  that in the sense that we eat in this existence or we are eaten.  It is inevitable just as much as the stroke of an artists paintbrush will lead to a series of changes in pattern.

Now, was I knocked unconscious at any point during any of the bank examinations?  Could the entire room of people such as myself be tossed about without them knowing it if physics controls and mind altering influences place things into a position for a complete route as in warfare, a success by the sociopath over victims unaware of the technology used upon them.

I remember one bank examination, actually a bank charter issuance in Roseville California.  We had met a bank not to be used by the Nevada resident wanting a bank charter.  His rings of gold covered his fingers, his aroma like that of strong cologne, his car a sports car, his crouching at the table was like a man hiding behind those at the bank where we were interviewing him and other banking officials.  But something stranger than that was  the self righteous bank examiner in San Francisco, a sort of parody of a spitting monitor lizard, who really seemed to have an agenda to push me out of  FDIC bank examination.  Their behavior is like that of a snake sometimes, both the bank examiner who may be corrupt and the banker who wants his claws in the financial crimes market.

There is a weapon mimics the hertz of brainwaves and it is linked on this site.  There are new technologies in physics.  I feel that bubble physics could break up those physics weapons I see now as possible, and any physicist in the world of imagination will tell you that any man or being who is top technology inventor in physics wins any conflict, if there is a winner.

Looking back at my FDIC employment in 1999 and 2000 and the attacks by the federal crime syndicates against myself in 2001 and the downing of the NYC Twin Towers and the attacks on the Pentagon, and the attack on Oklahoma City Federal building, I feel we are being held down and attacked and we can not tell when our patriots are fighting back because the government has started to attack illegally anyone who challenges corruption. I was broad sided because I trusted the Veterans Administration and the general integrity of the regime ruling the USA government. Never again.

Segment May 20, 2008: COMEDY_truth_SECRET_service_BANK_examiner_MURDERER_cop_NO_separation_OF_duties

The federal governments financial systems are like a basket immersed in water with the intent of catching water.  As long as it is immersed in the water, the government tells you the basket holds its water.  Of course when you lift the basket up, it pours out.

The Secret Service is like that basket.  They are supposed to help the situation, but they do not.  The reason is because they work as bank examiners in the investigation of counterfeit currency along with bank examiners who are accountants and financial and banking specialists.    The Secret Service also acts as a cop in their roles.  Therefore they work as both a bank examiner of counterfeit currencies and as a cop. 

Now, a regional FDIC director who controlled trillions of dollars was labeled suicide in his own office when he was found with a bullet from his own gun that had been fired into his body, according to rumors from the Secret Service. 

Now, as a former FDIC bank examiner, you can imagine my shock when  I was told in lockup on $1 Million dollars bail that my attornies were there to visit and it was Secret Service agents coming to tell me what was going to happen to me.  They sent in the young punks.  The true war criminals always do, as they are not only smart, but cowardly.  The Secret Service was sent to see me after I had been  forcibly injected by federal agents and detained in jail for owning a gun after surviving an attempt on my life for reporting obvious money laundering and murder at the FDIC in San Francisco and associated offices in California where I worked as a bank examiner.  Rapists get less bail than  I did for stopping in my vehicle with a gun for a rest on Veterans Administration property.  It is as if the federal government went to war with me on 4/28/2000 and escalated the war with an attempt on my life the Saturday after St. Valentines Day 2001, and on 4-23-2001 when the federal Secret Service or NTEU official forcibly injected me with chemicals.

So if you find a bank being robbed by a federal counterfeit money bank examiner, do not call the Secret Service, as they have the bank and the innocent bank examiner under question at the point of a gun.

Segment May 15, 2008: COMEDY_dick_TRAITOR_fdic_FALSE_friend

Mark Twain once said, "If a man thinks his penis is his best friend, he soon finds out that he has a traitor for a best friend."  The same goes for an FDIC employee.  If you think the FDIC is your best friend, you may soon find out as I did that you have a traitor as your best friend.  If it is DIC, it is not your best friend.

Segment May 13, 2008: COMEDY_bank_AUDIT_true_CORRUPTION_theme_PULP_fiction_MOVIE

Comedy, in the spirit of the movie Pulp Fiction(Youtube video link), I have a similar incident in which I interviewed a prick bank President who had made over $1 million on the books at a rather small bank while I was a federal  FDIC bank examiner employee.  I picture myself as in the movie Pulp Fiction's John Trovolta, except I am sent in on the fly to peak the wise guy with a fellow former bank examiner who are now in business examining banks we know are corrupted.   I picture the black guy, Jules Samuel Johnson, from the film talking to Brad the bank president.

Jules to the Bank President Brad: "Um Um Brad, it must feel good to be bank president, and look at all of the money you make on the books at this little bank."  "Damn, pardon IT, I thought we were just small time farm bank examiners. Do you remember our old friend, the FDIC regional director who was murdered and labeled suicide before that mass of shit was put in San Francisco by the big F-DIC D.C. Dicks?"

Brad hesitant: "Yeah, Yeah I remember"

John Travolta, as myself, Saint Ram Bone, another former FDIC bank examiner pushed out by the incoming mob boss regional FDIC director, talking to Jules and Brad:  "Look's like that F-DIC cock is making you sweat Brad.  If I didn't know better by that macadamia nut head shape, I would think you were part Chinese Porcelain Chicken"

Jules pulls gun and points to Brad:  "Get those pants off slowly".

Brad: "Why? I don't want to."
 

Jules shoots Brad in the knee and Jules says: " For I will send into her pestilence, and blood into her streets; and the wounded shall be judged in the midst of her by the sword upon her on every side; and they shall know that I am the LORD." "Do you know Ezekiel Chapter 28 verse 23 Brad?"

Brad in agony: "No!"

Saint Ram Bone: "It looks to me like he is sweating like a Chinese Porcelain Chicken"

Jules: "Perhaps a rooster at a piggy bag hold up is what we need? That is what they call it when the money launderers come to their destiny, their destiny as roasted chicken sausage at a piggy bag hold up?  Do you know the music video, Easy Come Easy Go by Lee Wiley Brad?"  "Her granddaughter was an invalid and we fell in love. It did not matter because I could not support her or pay for her up-keep. Do you know why I could not support her on my honest day's wage with a shovel in my hand?"

Brad: "NO? "You weren't well paid?"

Jules: "Close Brad. You see, the federal war crimes syndicates in the treasury, and mercurial slime like you in the banking business who are only in it for the negative capitalists profit, regardless of consequences, ruined my dinner. Because after paying rent and taxes there was nothing left for dinner for the both of us on my positive capitalist income. I had dug my own grave and now I crawled out of it. If you die Brad, the avenging angel has left the rest up to you."

Saint Ram Bone: "Brad, where is the piggy bank account Brad?  What are the routing and account numbers or do we have to gig it out of you?"

Brad: "Wait, one minute fellas, I put it down with last weeks laundry list, I will give you both, just leave me alone"

Jules: "Saint Ram Bone look at Brad, do you hear that, with the laundry list! While you get that laundry list, do you mind if I try some of your potted meat and crackers?"

Brad: It's French, it's Pate, help yourself.

Jules: "This is delicious. It kind of tastes like tripe and that fags penis we ate for dinner at the San Francisco F-DIC EEOC office. Nobody would eat it down except for Pate, and Pate is that martyr that nobody likes."

Saint Ram Bone: "Have you ever tasted a Sueet F-DIC treat Brad?" "We stomped it real good, kind of like an eel or abalone?" "Nobody likes it like a Pate."

Saint Ram Bone: "Look at all of those numbers in those accounts.  This guy has more money than my entire family."

Jules: "Brad Had!"

Jules: "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? ~  That one is from Corinthians"

Brad: "Oh my God! Oh my God"

Scene: Jules and Saint Ram Bone strip down Brad and carve the initials FDIC into his penis with a razor and some ink obtained from the Los Angeles County bus tattoo guy. As they leave, the Saint says to Brad, "It is only a matter of time", and places a 60 minute timer ticking on Brad's desk.  To be continued when I uncover the sequence of things and events leading to the true murder of an FDIC director and the capturing of those who profited from his murder and the attacks on my life and  my demise as an accountant and bank examiner and contributor in the political process of this damned falling nation, one of the most hated nations on Earth, the United States.

Segment May 8, 2008: AUTOMATIC_phone_RECEPTION_broadcast_WINDOWS_media_CENTER

In thinking of weapons or methods used to track us and kill us, by many factions inside and outside government, the cellular phone is the achilles heel in many cases.  Computer monitors and computers of course enable the planting of electronics to capture and relay all cellular phone activity.  It can be as simple as placing a receptor in the monitor with appropriate electronics that relay the information back to the PC (PCU), and utilize an existing program such as Windows Media Center or any myriad of common programs.

The federal government had access to my computer long ago and the monitor I am using now.  When I turned on my cellular phone today my Windows Media Center opened up briefly and then closed.  I re-opened the program and several of the automatic settings was set by default.

Of course, scientists have coupled neurons to electronics and likely have bioengineered coupling organisms to the central nervous system neurons and there is likely already coupling of the peripheral nervous system to implants in the body. such as small electronic apparatus, or other smart devices. But who knows who? When? Where? And if detectable?

Therefore, the licorice of civil rights is gone with human rights and we stand waiting for a new leader to emerge with a humane and non-invading personality with intelligence.  Protect your young from the regime.  It may be futile.

 

Segment April 26, 2008: GRAVITY_ball_MOTION_movement_PLACEMENT_displacement_CENTRIFUGAL_pressure

Because people are starting to turn on each other, it is always nice to give things a little momentum, which is kind of like snatching a scab from a wound--it is not done slowly.

So let us herald the age of this new weaponry as it came done from more angles than one, and the bio-engineered variety already leaves the muscle eared cops lingering for exposure to the bacteria of feces and other species.

Gravity balls are those things I envision and placement can be made to form a sort of wax in its dis-equilibrium in its surrounding medium, whether air or flesh or water or wood or stone.

Why would their placement had value and virtue?  It can break down or take up that which surrounds it, depending upon accelerated orientation and absorption. 

What was it that made the USA government ideal fall?  When did it fall?  Did it exist?  I remember Vietnam as a child and the chide of mass media that forgot to mention those dead in my neighborhood and the lie of the entire system at that time.

What else is new under the sun?  The time is now and it is approaching with a vengeance, so like a wound, removing the deadened and sickened flesh is natural.

Segment April 24, 2008: COMEDY_joke_FDIC_sueet_MASTA_pita_EATA

An impersonator that I envision such as Mel Brooks, who tells another of The joke of the FDIC.  At the FDIC Seidman Training Center, a question is on the test, and it reads as, "Sueet Carol, ARD (Assistant Regional Director) ARD at F-DIC is at a bank examiner's office alone at the largest bank in the world and the devil waltzes in, what does she do?"

A) Call the mob boss regional director, Masta for a menage a trois?

or B) Run for the nearest bureaucratic red tape dispensary?

Sueet replies with Masta's FDIC in her mouth and Son of Sam's FDIC in her clutch, "Nuttin tastes sueeter Dan F-DIC!"  In reality, the cunt makes over $200,000 and terminated me for filing and EEOC complaint, so I told on murder and money laundering and took wop retirement. That is all they have for us, wop retirement, labeled a criminal and paid to do so.

While outside the children frolic in the garbage piles left by  the tax profits of the casino and drug and oil monopolization industries.  "Sueet".

Segment March 13, 2008:_COMEDY_snatch_BIG_mouse_EATER_fairy_POSSUM_jack_SNATCH

In looking back over the horror of my miserable life, I remember comedy in those moments of serenity and civility and pause.  Comedy based on truth is my forte, where art imitates life and vice-versa.

Most recently I have pushed for EADS to leave the United States.   For purposes of the audit of our defenses, I do not want an argument over who exploded war chemicals over my family in the USA.  After all they already beat Kurt Brown - Saint Ram Bone from government in Mob AL.  The day will come when we will confront the bum who is in charge, but until then, I present, former Sheriff Jack "Snatch The Fairy Possum" Tillman in this melee of true shooting down of the federal juggernaut of war criminals, national and international.

Scene: Brookley Air Base, Mobile Alabama, Snatch the Fairy Possum is there with his badge and Saint Ram Bone.

Police: "Snatch you can wipe that steamy smile off of your face, you are not going to get out".

Snatch runs to the EADS jets from the open cage, clinging hold, and the motor revs up.  A song is played, Prodigy "Spitfire" (Youtube link)

Scene: Snatch in huge refueling jet.

Snatch: "Up Up and Away, In my beautiful, my beautiful buffoon".

To be continued with Snatch's head gear camera to inspect the inner compartment of the jet for a cache of war criminals from the fed and  Mayor Wod Puppet I and Mayor Wod Puppet II aka (Son of Sam Bones Jones of Mob AL Crew) and Randy Kraft, serial killer paroled on furlow, serving drinks, toast, and death.

Segment 2-23-2008: In those moments of delusional hurricane paranoia, I ponder ways of capturing the energy from the angry little beast whirlwind, thereby minimizing damage, re-capturing energy, and maximizing profit.

In capturing the energy and pressures released for further usage in this device, it will take many points for conversion and in multiples to sustain continuity in rampant change in the development of the storm.  Much as the driveshaft meets the axle, or the digitized computer mouse meets hand movement, this method will have to be replicated in triplicate many times over with an in and out effect per my plan.  In sequence or perhaps in continuity with a series of lasers and other movements of controlled medium such as laser projected sound and radio-waves coupled with high energy laser light, and perhaps electric faraday cage effects if possible, powered by those points external to the storm and manipulated at the center of the storm in its nucleus by a flying robot nucleus whose path could be determined and flown on remote or of a sensitized nature to detect the pressure of the storm and to keep the digitized nucleus and projecting and reflecting portion of the smart lasers contained within the eye of the storm.  Averages or variations of ratios of storm pressure versus atmospheric pressure surrounding the storm could determine the outer bounds of the the machines and methods housed at Pascal's Triangle manipulation devices in space or on the shores or on sea-buoys.  That will requires some high powered machinery to drive the energies needed to initiate dis-equilibrium or imbalance in the storm to be utilized in powering its downgrading in category strength rating, and to the energy storage profit bottom line.

The primary purpose is for compartmentalization and manipulation within the compartments of all constituent components, with some components such as pressures of course being elongated and pressurized for capture and storage or release of storm components.  Instead of seeding trails in the clouds, we could possibly achieve some of those more metallically measurable elements within the component of the clouds themselves.

(Paragraph Added 2-25-2008: In capturing the energies and components and influences of the hurricane in its strata diversifiable I propose the usage of laser amplified energy accelerators coupled to those broken down and charged components of the hurricane itself or those components utilized in increasing disparities in equilibrium, much reconstructed to resemble a cell, with an energy output. Much like today's Hole, Doll Parts Youtube music video. And a big fangs to those abusers of the corrupted government.)

Rheostat type or a calcium based homeostasis within the cell of the hurricane and of course with the powered lasers, some smart laser within the cell. The governing lasers hooked to an electrical rheostat on preprogrammed control coupled to the conditions at the rheostat hurricane cell levels within which could be emulated that of a cellular transport system or system, much like the calcium channels to electron transport, to extract energy from  the hurricane's strength from within and do not forget light as matter and gaseous separation..

Delineation and stripping away of the components of the hurricane as if stripping a fiber.  I think tornadoes would be more challenging in some sense because of the small compartmentalization of the process to minimize damage is subject to much more uncertainty due to locale of the storm and rapid advance.  However, that is not to say this method could not be maximized in high population density areas.

I consider Pascals Triangle and its radical mathematical stripping at one point in time to be available and multipliable over time and space in much the same way an echo is heard.  Bio-engineering of a grid, much like a redwood mangrove near coastal cities could be utilized if the mangrove was harnessed and used for the grid and placement of machinery or waves and controls through the grid maximizing the natural design capabilities, not only in the redwood mangrove itself, but in the placement of the mathematical reduction capacity within the hollowed design and its natural shape.  This is but the grid formed by the natural growth pattern and relative size ratios of positive and negative separation or other derivations.

The perfect storm is the "Perfect Day Elise", as described by Yevrah JP in her E-sile Video.

Of course to approach the type or types of suppression of the hurricane's ill effects and to maximize profit, all components released should be utilized.

A hurricane has a change in barometric pressure in its covered area, negative or positive in relation to one atmosphere in equilibrium.

We have wind force or pressure, water vapor, barometric pressure changes, temperature, negative and positive ion masses and a total charge or force, therefore we have the usual  pressure, volume, temperature, and to some extent total weight of water and debris and the total weight of pressure in a group of set parameters and ratios.

Perhaps in the splitting or diverting of pressure a side effect of water vapor collection and or cooling in another of the points calculable on the triangular grid could be implemented, and of course the splitting of negative and positive electrical charges or the bringing together and dampening or collecting of their strength and the amplification and multiplication of equilibrium differences thereby accentuating the enhancement characteristics of positive and negative feedback channels.

Today's Navy death song in a mesh of technologically impregnated and covered  mangrove but of the Pascal  triangle tendencies (Youtube Video). In the end, just as in my death bed this morning, I would like to Be In An Octopuses Garden, by the Beatles.

Segment February 12, 2008: SCIENCE_energy_DISSIPATE_capture_RELEASE_HURRICANE_spinal_CORD

By creating a negative or counter pressure if in extreme negative distention on the ions in  a cloudburst or hurricane and striking it with a positive or opposite force with a directed conduit for capture, energy could be released and stored.  I found one particularly interesting idea in gradients, but there are many ways to construct the necessary capture device for this damage minimizing concept.

The idea not only minimizes hurricane impact damage but also harnesses a pure and clean and already spent form of energy.  (Energy like matter is neither created nor destoyed, it simply changes form, to a certain extent over limited periods.)

Because it is the water vapor and barometric pressure that holds the mass in a cloud and because it is moved by charges, we should have either water or energy or pressure or all three act upon the other or others to dissipate the clouds and harness the energy. In speaking of compartmentalization on three sides, I ran across Pascals Triangle in animation on Youtube, Positive and negative numbers.

In another matter, In regenerating a persons central nervous system, as in a qaudriplegic, it has to be contiguous per present knowledge.  Therefore in light of genetic replication or replacement, perhaps a type 0 blood with negative rhesus factor could have the genetic core with the outer placement being that of the recipient with that part of their genetics integrated into the mix.  The cerebral cortex is the primary store of cognitive memories according to  common didactic.

  A sort of growth to adult hood and then placement into an individuals body.  Of course, would it be the same person?  Could you transfer knowledge and experience from the paralyzed mind to the living mind? 

I saw one experiment of another vein that noted the movement in hands is not really thought of, with redundant limitation structure restraints training when young into the original biological development, therefore smaller circuits could bypass the severed spinal area and hand motions could be worked in clumps or as we call them in Java programming, modules.

Eat my shoot you fascist pig.

Segment February 12, 2008 : MUSIC_eraser_CLOSED_government_CONTRACTOR_judge_ CORRUPT_enemy_TO_humane

I will hear this music when the closed door regime that has injected me, attacked me, and  robbed  me, and who have killed other honest and open federal bank examiners and banking crimes prosecutors are removed. My recommendation in that event is to start at three to four degrees separation and work inward as far as necessary to stop the pain and torture we endure by that lieing horde. I refer to them as "IT".  Of the deaths I am speaking of the FDIC director killed in his office allegedly and labeled suicide, which is a lie in my estimation because the criminals in power launder billions of dollars of casino funds and drug monies and no one cares as it is invisible except when you test them and observe them in a mathematical auditing fashion. I am only interested in the materially significant audits, which are, the human beings who may be humane and honest and who were killed while performing oversight of our funds, and I am also primarily concerned with large amounts of money in the billions, trillions, and the tools that are being used in global conquest through technological warfare on humane mankind.

Do I smell a fart in a whirlwind or this Judge Michael McMaken of Mobile Alabama who upholds supporting the closing of government doors and the felony of denying us our open meetings laws.  The photo is from  a side view because  his forehead looks like a circuit plate in a full frontal photo, accompanying McMaken is John Peavy, County Commissioner and popular city construction contractor, and of course a local cadre of paid out politicians of the regime, "Chapeau Blanc" "Blanc Chapeau", and a hidden federal war crimes monstrosity who commits biological and chemical warfare on Americans  through forced injections of the innocent and compliant.

A chemical engineer who is top rate and a good physicist could take over the world, in a momentous whirlwind of chemistry and the outside world acted upon that chemistry.  The regime should listen to this song, Eraser by Nine Inch Nails on Youtube.   Protect your child from mass media and applaud the destruction of the "Closed Door Government and Forced Injections Regime In Power".

The regime is the enemy to humane mankind in this technological war.  The only way to get through to them or it is technological confrontation because they have tied the chord of technology around many of our throats since the time we were young.  Remember Vietnam and mass media's obliged or voluntary approval.  A death sentence for an 8 year old, 10 Years After screaming I would love to change the world (Youtube music video) as he falls into the grave dug by IT.  A Wiseman would kill himself.  A not so Wiseman who survived would root out the issue against Wiseman, starting with those torturing us today.

Segment January 30, 2008: DIPOLE_car_WRECK_cop_BLOCK_four_SET_dental_CHAIR_chemical_

Updated February 1 in paragraphs below: in addition to those things regarding the Dipole below after this paragraph, I want to point out electromagnetic bubble physics theory coupled with the dipole in the parking lot and adjacent building mentioned below. Of course the tripole effect in medical science and astrophysicsshould be mentioned also. To all of you who are struggling against the enemies to our people, I have a forewarning. The upper caste is like a clan. We can not trust any of them. If you are engaged in surveillance of a conflicting sort with the regime, then when you are at a doctor or dentist, bring a secondary person to view you and better yet, have electronics to broadcast and record in real time all events to a remote location in case both subjects are tampered with. We are destined for a full scale caste war or otherwise in the USA and likely the world and we may find we humane humans are a different animal. The regime betrayed me and injected me with chemicals and unknown procedures in Los Angeles in 2001, as they did others in 1999 (see Continuing Problems link), and I was injected again in 2004. Have dogs in your home or layered security systems at night. I survived, other banking regulatory officials did not, such as Thomas Crane Wales federal banking prosecutor. His death was to free up the ranks for lesser prosecutors, likely that IT factor I witnessed at the FDIC in the highest ranks. We are better off to fight them to the death than to live in fear and pushed from government. This is a technological conflict. Do not trust anyone you do not know very well. As the Secret Service told me after I had been injected and jailed for reporting money laundering, "The trust is gone". I have one for them, "You drew first blood", our turn to draw a card on your kind.

Not to point at dentists and say  that's the one, that's the one, but I do not trust dentists or cops.  Both get their hands on you and you are at their mercy.  And the truth is, in our modern world of highly advanced and highly controlled physics, and that coupled with advanced biological chemistry of a psychoactive nature. You could be interrogated again, just as the government has done to me before, but their drugs are like poisons, but they do not care, just as those federal bastards caused our relatives to die and fight in those mandatory wars across the globe. Of course you could be transported to a dungeon across town and have your biological clock cleaned and your mind plucked, all while you thought you were passing between two cop cars and going to sit in a dentists chair being tampered with by a technician and then be visited by a dentist who you do not know who is a stand in and not even in your time strata, Dude.

Sometimes usual everyday occurrences will spark my survival instinct and my days of being a post F-DIC bank examiner who became an informant on murder and money laundering and the post traumatic stress leave me like a wired cat on a fence looking for the dog who is always there.

Now, about this episode.  I pulled up to my dentist in my truck in the Village of the Damned.  A busy intersection is there.  The parking lot was almost full, excluding one parking spot, farthest away from the dental office.  

There were two cop cars in the small 20 car parking lot and two other vehicles they had sequestered, as in a wreck.  In my cat's eye for war, I saw in hindsight, a dipole, because in the back of the truck that was part of the wreck was the usual electrical generator type of equipment with the rest of the equipment covered in a tarp.

Unfortunately, I walked through the dipole, therefore I was the interference or that thing caught in between, and in my post traumatic stress after dealing with the closed door war criminal crime syndicates regime in power in the United States, I see it was a mistake, because it has labored upon my mind and my post traumatic stress inflicted upon me by the enemies of the humane human beings, that filth in power in the United States as of this day.

So, I went into the Dentists office and when I got to my monster tooth cleaning station, a man was working on the dental chair, tinkering with something underneath.  I thought, this is strange, first the parking lot, and now this, a man making final adjustments to my monster tooth dental cleaning chair.  What special apparatus did they have for me?  Perhaps a dipole triangulation and teething ring from Hell?  Or perhaps, something to aid my dentist of the day, who was not my usual dentist, in making his appearance and body inhabitation or body swap with the dentist who should have been as in a phase shift dipole?.

But what about that split second when my attention was diverted after the lovely dental assistant who cleaned my teeth was finished.  I am talking about when the visiting dentist, not my usual, came in to poke around my gums.  What about that momentary lapse of complete concentration, when I realize that my mouth has gone weak and I may have been unconscious?  Could he have placed something on my gums as he stretched my cheek open to place his other finger covered with an unknown gel on the other inner cheek to knock me unconscious. Most likely to interrogate me, if he is associated with those federal war criminal killing bank examiners and federal banking prosecutors or that fascist war criminal dictatorship in power in my native city, the Village of the Damned.

Or perhaps the whole thing, the drugging and the machines, in a more elaborate measure was so that I could crawl around in the dipole phase shift, which had become a far flung Doppler phase shift, leaving me in the crunch in which my chair had become the end point on the triangulated lever and the fulcrum was the chair and the machine outside with the cop cars?  Who was this guy with the mystery gel on the end of the probing stick, this new anonymous doctor with the big head, Dr. Who Nose?

So, after all was said and done, I find out that my insurance was tapped out.  Before I had sat in the chair,  I had allowed the pretty young dental cleaning lady to take a full x-ray of my head, as she claimed to be looking at my teeth.  It was one of those circular X rays, which resembles those horrid machines the federal government forces you to sit in if you make the mistake of parking on Los Angeles Federal property, just one site in these damned United States, the land of the enemy warmongers psychopath forced experiments facility

But this section is not to espouse anything other than to have you know what it is like to be in fear of a government that has turned.  I want to leave the United States and start a whole new life, a whole new career.  I fear every agency war criminal under the NTEU, including the FDA's FDIC and the Secret Service who are in the banking business also, and let us not forget the Treasury and the US Mint, as that is a likely big hole in the bucket of the working class pockets, as the USA government has become a crime infested cesspool of corruption and murder and torture, and high technology leaves us looking for a new nation, but where?

 I hope the sickness that I often feel is just stress and not  the chemicals I was injected with in 2001, 2004, against my will by federal war criminal officials who are part of the money laundering syndicates, or perhaps the chemicals I was forcibly injected with in 2007 in my home after the federal agent came knocking for my daring to try to film in the lobby of the closed government of the war crimes regime in Mobile Alabama via Washington D.C.  He later called demanding my cell phone number from a relative.  She gave it to him and should not have. After all, federal banking prosecutor Thomas Crane Wales was killed in his home in 2001 after making a call to tell his lover he was, "Home Alone" and had work to do alone. He was likely killed to make way for a federal banking prosecutor or a judge or both who are take bribes from or are part and parcel of the federal banking crimes regime in power.   My home was likely broken in to in late December 2007 as I slept, after the federal agents knew I was home alone with no dogs or companion in the home per a conversation on the cellular phone. Regarding the video of the FBI agent at my door, when I first called the local FBI they told me he was FBI. The next time I called, months later, a male agent would not give me a name, calling himself Stacy, and told me that the FBI agent who had been at my door worked for the Mobile Police Department. When I said "Thanks", Stacey said, "You are very damned welcome"

Our enemies need to be ripped out by the throat from the seats of government, but in the time being, we wait for global war or a dual citizenship, which ever comes first.  I would wager with high certainty the federal war criminals came into my home in late 2007, but then again, I live, so I may just leave as this small water buffalo leaves the lions in this youtube video.  I want a paw print on their chest, one emblazoned like a hoof, from sternum to spine, in other words, I give the green light to kick the hell out of the federal war crimes syndicates. But remember, this is a technological war.

I want to go to Tibet to sit with the Dalai Lama and eat rice with the communist monks.  But they are dead.  They were killed by the ravenous world the year of my birth, 1960.  So I sit here waiting for my next Dentist appointment and wondering if the border patrol or the federal war criminals in Los Angeles put a camera in my truck so the two hands of the beast can spy as they rip me apart on the inside, and eventually the outside.  I remember my grandmother who had a rather hard life but who was an astute business woman, "Things are never as bad as they seem."  She was not happy when I joined the military and now I know why.  They are not there to defend anyone.  They or IT devours everything and they tear you apart inside.  Want to see the world young man or woman?  Get your engineering degree and get paid as you travel.  If they have dumbed you down or blocked you, join the Peace Corps for travel, or just go ahead and jump on any side for the war parade.  Just make sure you are fighting for the Humane.  It is not the international war criminal regime housed in the USA and the nations associated with the international conquerors, whatever they are or it is.

By the way, the smart ass agent calling himself Stacey who said I was "Very Dammed" is a punk bastard, and without that gun and badge, I could snap his neck with my crippled veteran hands and throw into a vat of Granny's hard ball stew down on rattlesnake bayou and savor every damned morsel as we cook it down under the burning Bush regime. Fake religious fanatics are like the apocalypse ingrained from the first inquisition.

Segment January 29, 2008:  SONG_lyric_MIMIC_adult_ISLAM_yusef

A Song and rhythm mimicking the lyrics of Yusef Islam's Islams (to be continued, perhaps)

(Sing First Stanza in A Childs voice)

Call an aunt here,

Water Kurt'ns and

Water Me-a_Ge-ah

Et Yusef Islam

Choose a water

Order buckets for me-a-ah

 

(Drum Roll 1)

  (Drum Roll II)

       Vocal Adult Mono

Here I lay down among the sleep, the wise moon rose over us.

Here I lay down to sleep, the dead Wiseman stood looking over us.

BREAK HERE FOR SECONDARY COUNTER NOTION, KURT NOTATION

The messenger of the beast, a member of the USA federal war criminal regimes protected syndicate says to me in this video when I asked why I could not enter government like an American citizen "I have Ben told"

"Has he Ben told to commit suicide"

Ben Stanford allegedly commited suicide. The night before his death I saw a man in the shadows at the end of my travel triangle, more like a beast. Three shots rang out when he fled.

Ben Stanford under your split Ben Told tongue, beast?

Cop_E_Land Federal Beast Gone Bad, Mo-Bile's Horned Friend, Dead no man's friendd, In the End. Who cares? I relish his removal, IT's removal, even if in global death, and his or IT's controller's death would make me feel much better as I now going under like effanvescence (music video).

Send me back to the rising moon, Wiseman! Ben! 

(Closing Note: You may notice I am stammering in speech as I spoke to the closed government's Reggie Copeland and the police in the Mobile Alabama Courthouse building before the meeting.  I had been injected forcibly recently by the federal government, beaten by local Alabama government at the gates to city council meetings, I have been jailed, I have spit blood after going to Judge McMaken's court in Mobile Alabama for demanding my Open Meetings Law rights. I was attacked by associates of federal money laundering crimes syndicates in the federal government and survived and their response was to have a food funds thief, Sherif Jack Tillman, take my gun permit.   Why you may ask did I try?  My response is that it was a scientific test.  A test to see if this place is worthy of my family staying here as is.   The regime has failed.  I welcome a global military assault against the closed door dictatorships of abuse.  I welcome a holy war combined with a technological war and a military style encampment design, spread out, to protect our people with complete removal of our people from the presence of the enemy. I think the Dalai Lama would have liked to see the inhumane who were sacking his land in my birthyear, 1960, killed, but he lacked the poverty and abuse that I have endured in these damned United States, starting in Mobile Alabama and their slum Prichard, to want to fight to the death.  Stand together humane humans.  Do not serve their military.  Applaud the death of their warmongers and their abusers.  Let us welcome global war if necessary.  They or IT is taking over the world.  Some should just protect themselves.  Sometimes it is better to keep women and children in the back ranks.  Never again trust them and applaud  the death and  removal of the international war crimes regime, starting in these damned  United States of America  in the Gulf Coast, Pacific Coast, Atlantic Coast triangle.  The suicide bombers of the world needed advanced degrees in Physics to be effective.  Audit result:  Who or what  you are in command, we welcome global war and our and especially your and your controllers deaths.  We are human beings.  We are not dogs.  We are humane.  You are not.  You will die in total, if not by us, by your own. Let us prepare for war with them and their attacks so that when we reach that critical point in age, we die like men, no words, no stammering, just a bucket of their blood for a drop of our own. Remember, they drew first blood. The United States has been shit since I can remember. Starting in the Vietnam war era when I was a child. I was brainwashed by their monopolized television, radio, and newspapers. Go out with glory. Attack the enemies to mankind before you die, we are one my fellow men of the humane human beings. Life is perpetual for us.)

When you try to particapate in American government by email they say they are threatened by us. We should confront them in the arena war and show them that we do not make threats. G-d damn the regime in power for teaching hate of the Muslims, the Buddhists, the Jews, the Christians, the Hindus, the Atheists, the five hands of one hand of God. 

 

Dalai Lama

Segment January 24, 2008: WEAPON_federal_TAKEOVER_physics_ORANGE_pulp_DESIGN_penetrate_EARTH_space

I envision a weapon, a physics weapon, and it is in control in the United States in the federal government, the modern government, the enemy of the humane, the greatest subjugator of the human race since ancient slaver. The United States under the control of that physics weapon or those who rule us now is one whose destruction we shall want and applaud.

in its structure, if you can imagine, an orange, the outer layer is the outer circumference encompasses all of earth or a portion of it, like an orange peel, and coming down from the orange peel is the inflated bubbles whose outer walls are the pulp of the orange, and inside are the ingredients that give the manifestations of technology their form, that of a human being on the outside, and on the inside, a diabolical and insidious thing, devoid of humane compassion for anyone. See Vietnam, see all of the World Wars and the smaller conflicts of last century, if not many centuries. Could mankind be so misled to be led to the slaughter house in war to make way for the insidious pulp I envision, men in form, devoid of humane compassion and original human flesh, unaltered by man or beast? Of course. So that person urging you to hate, hate, hate, this one or that one, may be setting you or your children up for dismal failure and early death, or as some call it, a dropping down a level, as in an energy form.

Even more insidious the FBI may be cutting people's tongues out in more ways than one. The Secret Service, the SS, is the gun toting killer for the billionaire syndicates in the financial arena. And worse, they may follow you, stalk you, even move into your tenement sector, with more than guns, machines, blasting out sickness, toward one, with keys in the blood through chemical injections, like a G-d damn tracking laser gun. We are in that war and we have lost, not won.

So you think you have a President named Bush, a benevolent Texas one, or a Senate of veterans who care, or a congress that is going to be there, and all you have is an empty palm, and a war looming every day done. If you have Veterans Administration healthcare, you have none. You are the experimental or the tormented one or put in jail, forcibly injected, and left on probation if you own a gun, so a hitman from the federal money laundering syndicates can target you on the run. Some call the witness site a fraud, but those are on the run. I did not know it until I was in chains and tortured and a Los Angeles inmate told me of it. Was he one? I doubt it, most likely like me, just under the gun, and left without one.

Segment January 23, 2008: THIS_monk_E'S_gone_TO_heaven_TO_sea

Now let's talk about the logic illogic derivations as view by Dirt Brown. Let's say it, sing it, hum it blue, from under the tune of This Monkey Gone To Heaven by the Pixies.

Adam and Eve == Mada and Egg

That is the beginning as viewed by one.  Have you ever seen a spermazoid under a microscope?  The only ones who act sane are the ones with broken necks, the rest are schizoid, here and there.  And Eve, well, she does carry the egg any way you spell her, E(1)VE(2) or E(2)VE(1)

But what about Ba'al Zebub from theory and philosophy.  Why does he stare so contentedly as in this photo of mine, this double layer painting, a house Talisman titled the Queerest of the Queer, which is of course the Oddest of the Odd, The Bizarrest of the Bizarre.    Although you can not see it in the painting in this picture very well because, he is blind in at least one mortal eye, it was jobbed out.   No need to pout, no need to cry, because underneath, he is the same ole guy.  And in this picture I took him or IT for a spin, so did I.

This Monkey has gone to Heaven is borrowed from Hebrew Numerology.  The boy says if man is five, if the devil is six, if God is seven, this monkey has gone to Heaven. But what about Cheth, which is eight, it is the alleged Jew's lucky number, If Heaven is eight, did God Procreate?  Or perhaps it was fate, The lad times Beth, The Two, The B.  Not too late, no shame to bait Mana and Egg, Adam and Eve, Mada And Egg, on New York and Washington D.C. Except for you and me.  We were underneath, the sea, a blizzard, a snow cone, a Milled Ruby, or a Grated Holy, this Monkey's gone to heaven.

But what about, and in the collapse at the end, 10 to 4.  What about 8, Cheth, Cheth Laissez-Faire Brown, the child I never had, the child I never was, the one who wears the crown, or was it sh-t with a HI.  Like New York and New Jersey in a blood red sky, in a hole twisted inside.   But half of the 8 is Daleth, twice of Beth it is Cheth, The H C, The Lad, and half is Beth, The B, like Islam, not so bad as a Mal, a lam, and I do Si, Understand.  Humane knowledge holds God's hand.

What about the woman at the Sundance Film festival, Tia Lessin so lovely introducing her film Trouble The Water and my respects to her and her family.  She was a refugee of Katrina in New Orleans.  Prehaps she wanted me to play the song, Stone Cold In My Electric Chair, with a video I made in New Orleans before Katrina, that was made two weeks before in my triangulated forecasting lens. And my respects to her and her husband and the quadrilegic paralyzed veteran I knew there who was removed before the flood.   I could feel the sultry heat in the smoke filled air (mp3 song, Big Easy Bud Hole).  Just like when the browser crashes, it asks if it is OK afterward, and by  then it is too late to say I care.  Icare in computer terminology is like a broken hand that spins its own unique rhythm, like a drive shaft on an axle, perpendicular to the train of movement, it translates at an off hand glance only a true mechanic can understand and speak. I only wish that every time I logged onto Youtube that the federal war criminals did not call my home, as if threatening me. Perhaps they want to fight Saint Ram Bone? I am always up to feeling the Queerest of the Queer, the oddest of the odd, I am and was the wizard by God, with the House Talisman Painting, two layer, possessed, and owned for $911 Million or Ten Percent, and it smells like Snatch The Fairy Possum, $10000 to scratch and sniff. So federal killer, quit calling my home when I am on the Youtube dome.

So Kurt, who listens as you speak.  The God has gone to Heaven.  So meek.  Like New York and New Jersey, and no one cares.  So I scream words unintelligible "So To Speak".  This Monk-E's gone to heaven..

Like a flower that spins on its pedal, all twelve do not break, but spin loose, and in the middle out comes the pistillum in the end, as in the beginning, and people look at you like you are a freak, so you speak, to make them understand.  The boy comes back a man.  It is not what they all planned.  Like a leopard shark in a bucket of minnows the shark considers its friend, and will so till the end.  This God, his monk-e's gone to heaven.

Surrounded by people who I thought were my friends in the beginning, until the bucket broke, and the ball fell on the fence and not a friend.  How they enjoyed it and laughed.  This monk-e's gone to Hell-ven, five six seven, like New York City and New Jersey, I have never seen, except through a woman's beautiful eyes, in the land mass it is Greece I prefer, in its white metallic sheen, so forgive me if I learned to speak.  It was the Brazilian woman, so sleek, so me, so mean, so loving, whose heart I did break, and she came back, like a San Franciscans volcano earthquake, the pool man at her side, dumb as a rock, I see them as a Bonnie and Clyde, so to speak.

So the plants and planets jump onto the back of my painting, the queerest of the queer, and go for the oddest ride, I brought it to life when the angels cried, but AVI and Youtube would not ride, so I left the writing unintelligible until you look at the description inside.  In Law see Crameth_C The Ram, See Law En Arc Sameth, the lover still thinks it was the pilot, I understand, perhaps, but I see a deeper plan, I see him holding the federal agent assassin by the hand, not what he planned, Thomas Crane Wales.  My father wanted me to be an attorney, but I see the legal profession is Hell, so I will see Hell back and raise them one, This Monk-E's gone to heaven, under the shade bush in the sun, no need for a gun, but it is in the safe hold I am told.  that would be Gun number 5, underneath I cried, One Million Dollars bail for 4 would make 5 1.25 million, like Bonnie and Clyde, inside I died. 

It was a drop in energy I was told.  So I laugh insane at the algorithm, the traipsing thing in my back, holding on to the metal rack put in my jaw by the Navy so long ago.  It was a trick. I am thick.  I have to get my tooth fick.  The insurance for a trick.  Whose trick?  Nature plays a trick on a lover or two.  Now they put returning soldiers in a head vice and turn the screw, just like on you knows who.  Me, so silly.  So what is a Greek traveler to do?  Seek out all of those things he or she once knew.  This monk-E's gone to Heaven.  Sow Heaven and thick. Sow heaven and thick.  This Monk-E's gone to heaven.

Kurt, I say, I feel like I have been in Hell.  How these self righteous do swell, when I am laying in the road, under the wheel well.  Sow heaven and thick.  Sow heaven and thick.  This monk'e's gone to heaven and hell.  Kurt, what is that smell.  Seattle, Tampa, France.  Street F.  F-DIC, money's turning like a screw, and I still have to fick my too.  This monk'e's gone to Heaven, this monk'e's gone to heaven.  Ah - Ahhhh.  Put your numbers in a box.  This is numerology and I am the clock.  This monkey's gone to Heaven.

So like Beck's termite choking on the splinters in a piece of wax, so do I in the dental chair, as I turn a shade of blue once again, dieing alone again, and the dental assistant says I am cute when I am retarded, but she does not realize I am already dead and still choking on a piece of whack.  This Monk'e's gone to Heaven.

Post note, I wrote this in a night of extreme duress of a lower sort, frigid in heat. I think of actressLarissa Clayton who cried, I tried, to get her across the border to take a peak at her own film, Strange Culture, I have not yet seen. I think the FBI killed Kurtz's wife to set him up. Probability 50%. The federal government is killing everyone else. See my theory on a new weapon in the post below. I am torn, I want to go to Greece, the voice says it is Portugal you seek, and then there is Taiwan, to China with a sweet I speak. So, I will leave it at, give me my job back at the F-DIC Sueet, in the drivers seat, God at my side, or we can vacation together in Brazil, I really liked that Rose. So too part I see us on the plane Sueet, me, you, Brazil, and the Guy Who Puts The Lime In the Coconut, so to speak. So these girls try to speak Coconut Speak, the cockatoo so meek, but they are cut short, so I translate for F-DIC's Sueet in German speak, Note the holes in walls, those are at 190 degrees at all four directions, NSEW. And then I want to triangulate, so I get the original Lime in the Coconut, feeling Harry Nilsson so meek, So To Speak. Sueet told me I had dug myself a hole I could not get out of, so I put the lime in the coconut and turned NSEW 190-Degree, Sueet N Hole Beth, as above you see the light. Monk'e's gone to Heaven, but where the Hell are we? Perhaps I should invite my saluting Muslim to Greece for a dream of thick T, perhaps you and me in the loving Monk'e tree, with Snatch at our feet, in the heat as Mill Valley's pool pump shed treat, after all, She has to eat. Jamila of Vancouver B.C. via Morocco, I wanted to return to the clear running stream with her, but FDIC left mean at the Canadian Border in 2007 for me, forme', NTEU eating me too, casino mob bosses seething mean. Signs, it was a fasting day. Monk E's gone to Heaven.

 

Segment January 13, 2008: WEAPON_federal_TAKEOVER_war_CRIMINAL_sociopath_PACT_weapon_SPACE_man_WALKER

 Recently my dog became ill when a federal agent came to my home.  That was in the last third of 2007 as can be seen on saintrambone Youtube videos as the officer called himself Jack Bishop was at my door.  Another man was with him in the yard, or an apparent man. 

I had a severe headache for days.  My small dog, my parakeet of sorts, had his penis hang out in a flaccid position and he seemed ill.  On the third day, I took my dog to the veterinarian.  This can be  verified.  The vet did not know what it was and said, "It just happens".  I disagree.  Nothing "Just Happens".  Always there is a cause and an effect, and sometimes both are complex.

I believe that pressurization changes in the inner structures of the brain, such as hippocampus were affected in my dog, and very much in myself.   As I said I can have my dogs condition verified as I took him to the family veterinarian on the third day.

What is being done?  My dog had the same condition recently when I returned from a trip out of town.  Someone had entered my home while I was gone or the dog was exposed to the same effects.  Our neighbors can even be in on these things.  I always suspect lone wolves, but then again, if you are out of town, the federal government can show up and do what they please inside or outside your home.

Now this machine is likely operated from space or remote through transmission towers.  Of course it could be a machine the federal government brings to look in your home.   Of course someone could have entered my home, but I suspect a machine or sorts or a harnessing and directing of wave energies.

I am very suspect of things after  the death of Thomas Wales, the attempt on my life, and the death of the FDIC director and what I saw in the high rise FDIC office in San Francisco and their affiliate office in Roseville.

I believe you can actually see this spinning in of their operative if you are in the public.  They can take you, and remove you remotely for rape or interrogation or set up for murder.

Now, how would you break this chain.  I feel that waves transmitted out disrupt the flow of their machine because it is wave based.  If you are using your cell phone and transmitting out, it creates severe disturbance in magnetic fields and waves.  Try putting your cell phone next to an unshielded speaker for a computer system that has boosters and such and turn the speakers on and the PC on dial a number, and if you have a microphone turn it on for extra feedback to intensify the disruption.  We hear the disturbance all the time on Public Amp systems when cell phones are present if the amp systems are unshielded, and even then it is hard to penetrate and isolate the broadcasting out from the cell phone.

America may have already been taken over.  All of human kind may have been manipulated for a very long time. 

Also, when I have traveled recently on the Gulf Coast, once from Panama City Beach and another time from New Orleans, I have noticed some strange things.  I do not know who to trust so I will spill the beans, so to speak.  That is another thing, codes in stupid phrases, so to speak.  I see it as SS with a cross.  Strange but not all are bad who use that term, but it is something to be aware of.

Anyway, when I was driving from Panama City Florida once, I kept noticing every time I drove by a federal facility a TV in a van would approach the intersection.  Coincidence?  Maybe, but I doubt it.   Could the border patrol have put a camera in my truck in Canada or the USA.  They certainly loved detaining me for hours.  As I pick my nose they look for the gun.  What a joke, I spy cam bull shit.

Next, the confused state of intense waves can knock you unconscious while you are in an energy matter transference.  Up up and away, who controls the damned outer space anyway?

Next, I have noticed also on one trip from Panama City a truck came by me with an open trailer and in its trailer were tarps covered up.  I have had strange incidences where my window was being shot up one time as  I drove through Mississippi after I had Sheriff Jack Tillman roasted for stealing inmate food funds.  That would be the simple version of how someone or thing would use a trailer of that sort.  Could they or it put a sniper under the tarps.  Perhaps there is a conglomeration of machines under the tarps, a sort of large circuit board that relays those energies from space for a certain diameter.

Of course this is speculation.  However, I understand idiot sociopaths, they are not as smart as they think.  For instance, in Federal banking prosecutor Thomas Wales death, bullet casings were found outside his window and a man was seen walking away.  They found a pilot from Vegas with a gun that matched I believe.  No pilot would be that stupid unless he lost his mind.   And if so, how would he fly.    This is an interesting point, because he was traveling back and forth from Vegas.  Was he set up by money launderers from Vegas?  Or was Vegas a complete distraction, a negation of all truth in what happened, a red herring of 100% clarity as being devoid of meaning.  In the machine I envision, it could be any of the above.  I suspect Vegas types would not want to dirty their hands with a pilot from their ranks.  However, Vegas types are generally stupid.  They are not San Jose aficionados of murder and mayhem of the high tech variety.

Next was the death of the FDIC director in San Francisco labeled suicide.  A whole office of people or a few were present.  A shot was heard, the man was found dead with his gun.  My machine could lift him out, have someone pull the trigger or release the sound with  the gun in the FDIC directors mouth.

Now, about the FDIC top office.  When I went there, it was bizarre.  All these dark haired guineas from Italian descent.  But were they?  I know many Italians and they are not that kempt.  They swagger or stagger a bit.

Now, I seem to remember being knocked unconscious in an office once at the FDIC in San Francisco.  As I sat there a question was asked of someone and I heard it.  Now, this could just be post traumatic stress and an active imagination.  But I doubt it.  We have no military secrets if the machine I envision is in place.  It is like being chewed up by a large lawnmower with 100 ft width blades, except you are intact.

The person placed in front of you could be someone you have known that they or IT knows about.  Or it could be the generic Mexican, Sicilian bone head, or even a dark African sort.  The point is, do not make assumptions about the race of that which  you view. 

The resistance and transmittance machine likely has to be in place.  In population centers, the machine or the direction of the machine could be made permanent.  In remote areas, it may take the tarp covered vehicle with the trailer and the large circuit board with its transmittance and resistance features of some sort.

Does your butt hurt when you shit?  Is someone screwing you to wake you up.  Do you have a large bullet hole in your head?  I was attacked in my truck in 2001 and the federal government did not respond after I reported it.  I had the radio turned to AM and on static.  I had no cell phone.  Could radio static break up their monopoly, or was I just in jest of  a lesser assassin.  My truck was almost flipped.  The thing looked like a pole, similar to a small length of telephone pole.  It got hung under the wheel well before shooting back and hitting a car that came from behind.  Details of this are at Mobile Audit Club's website on the assassination attempt details page. 

Disorientation leaves us dangling.  Why in the time of high technology do some do these things?  Is it something recent? We know we were led into many wars for the benefit of others now.  Or were they an IT?

I once thought of how one could create war, take the weapons knowledge, recede in time, come back, draw profit from war, take the new weapons, recede in time, come back in and repeat.  I despise war.  I like kissing a young woman's derriere, and I sure as hell do not want anything stuck in my poop chute or a bullet in my head, and worse, our families are at risk. 

This is the nature of technological war,  Watch your backside and cover your track side.

Segment December 12, 2007: SCIENCE_mathematical_GESTALT_recognition_PLANNING_coincidence

In looking for mathematical inexplicabilities whose randomness is connected in ways I could not see but whose factors are contained among the inner whole of our universe with the usual pi factors elaborated in the pressure continuum and variants of the outer shell of our universe, I now venture upon 9-11-2001 and those things that happened to me, a federal bank examiner who witnessed likely billion dollar crimes being committed and who knew of a covered up murder, at 99% probability per my estimate, of a high ranking monetary regulatory federal government USA FDIC official.

I, Kurt Brown, alias Saint Ram Bone, a former bank examiner went to sleep at the LA VA Westwood in California in my truck on 4-22-2001.  I was to get an apartment the next day and had a U-Haul with my belongings.  I made a mistake and was not far enough off of federal property.  Veterans are not given special privileges by the federal government and I was arrested for having a gun in my vehicle.  I had been attacked two months earlier by associates of the financial war crimes syndicate in the USA government., with no response by the fed in emails to various agencies.

I was given two forced injections that I know of on the morning of the 23rd by federal officials and was carted off into a hell that would last for years.   Now for the mathematical oddity.

 I was jailed for 112 days.  I was released on October 12, 2001.  I was ordered silent in oral demands not to talk about the FDIC by government officials in Los Angeles.    Note the diametric separation and rhythm of the numbers game.  112 days, 8-12-2001.  The palindrome quality of the number of days in jails and the date, 112 and 12-2001.  My fathers only gift left to me was destroyed as I agreed to their demands under torture of forced injections and coercion.  My .22 rifle.

It is ironic that I had called 911 in Mobile the night of the attack on my life which was two months before my arrest in Los Angeles.  Just to report it, I called 911, as the attack occurred in Louisiana on I-10, just East of Texas.  Then on 9-11-2001 the twin towers were shot down.

I have never made the drive to NYC.  After living in LA, I dare not put that kind of stress on myself again.  Perhaps Syracuse or Buffalo is close enough.  And the little voices echo, "And you can say that again, two times twice." 

I have been requesting 9.11 Million for the forced injections and torture.  I feel I am in a trap though and the people are as cold and calloused and indifferent as starving dogs or cold stone.  Therefore, I will request 112 Million Dollars U.S. 

Lay the dead mans sheets on that and tell the next honest regional director Hello, and if he is killed, I still work under contract to uncover my lost doe..

Segment December 8, 2007:  COMEDY_death_FORCE_strain_SPOUSE

In our world of struggle and persistent warfare or servitude, we sometimes find our greatest battle is in our own home with our spouse.  

Now, I am not one who desires this weapon, but I see it as a bizarre possibility. 

Imagine your spouse swallowed up by a biological entity or a force field of some sort.  Imagine this entity capable of looking like the swallowed spouse.  You talk to the spouse, you know the spouse, for many years, then one day, the spouses changes in every manner you once recognized and adored in that spouse.

You walk into the battlefield one day, your bedroom, and you smell death at a quick glance as this thing that looks like your spouse once looked, breaths on you.  Except the smell is of death and it can not be contained.

Segment November 30, 2007: DROWNED_human_SOCIETY

I have noticed when I am around people, in particular children whose behavior is supposed to be predictably unpredictable, I have noticed that often one child will stand out, or one adult among the others.

Imagine a weapon or tool in which you are immersed in, such as a surrounding group of people.  You could be under the influence of exterior waves or you could be experiencing something that happened inside. 

I have learned as in this youtube video of mine that not all children behave the same.  Many of the people are cops in the video, as one came to my home.  My enemy is housed in my native government like a snake eating the eggs that will be needed to feed the next generation. 

We are surrounded by the it.  When you want the it factor, you sometimes have to walk away and wait for the suspecting but unsuspecting prey.  Light variations and tests could display things, or perhaps layered technologies.  If I had not been injected after FDIC employment I would not be traumatized as much.  I was attacked.  I welcome my death or I welcome my 9.11 million dollars that is due in reparations.  They steal from us to build weapons of no value and then they steal from us everything.

They say we are outwitted and beaten.  If so, a soldiers death of the masses is greater than the mourning of slaves impertetuity.  Never again serve the international regime, ignore their mass media, protect your young.  We are like a fish on its side awaiting death, swimming in circles. 

I had a dream and someone told me the outer shell was dieing and caving in.  I have been traumatized like a war crimes criminal.  A fellow veteran told me not to work for the federal government in 1999.  I should have listened.  I should have never contacted them or IT in 1982.

My saying to the youth, "Do not be a military queer, be an engineer".  I recommend working in the private sector.  I recommend you have your children in natural child birth with only mild herbs for the mother during delivery of the child.    We can not and should not trust anything put in front of us by our potential enemy who hide behind the human facade.

Segment November 29, 2007 __COMEDY_triangle_ELECTRIC_chair_COMEDIA_braman

I have been considering designs for Braman's electric chair.  We know he has toys for himself but what about the regime's key officianado, what about the electric chair to those controlling the judges in the abuse of our citizens.

I will consider a large stout metal chair designed of 3/4 inch steel. It will have pneumatics and a remote electronic control board.  Large metal straps to cross the chest.  A 110 volt  line with a riometer and I will place lines to electrodes on the eye-lids to wake that mass of sh-t up.  Lines will also be attached to the pit in the feet,  the testicles, the nipples, the lips, the fingertips,  and por de position de Kurb.    Of course Braman will want to accentuate circumstances by giving us a Neon Light show from his Las Vegas neon light death chamber boneyard.

The wires are twisted and the spike rises, and a light bulb is placed on the attendees head and connected to the dots on his eyelids and henceforth to the the triangle positions.  And I will lean back and ask to the sky in my Saint Ram Bone gone, I wonder why I am the way I am, at the center point of the spinning triangle of the three outer triangles, one inner triangle, with all four in the fifth mother triangle and where is the other side, who is my brother of darkened light?

Do I hear fear in Evanescence totality in flight. (Bom Gia Ante Amy).   No, I hear indifference abounding, but I want my 9.11 mil, for the OO sounding resounding is life like a needle, and it swings in Pendulum.

Of course we will always have the neutral and the ground and a converter and perhaps a transformer electric chair with pneumatic hydraulics and an electronic control board and that breakity break, clackity clack sound, and the remembrance of the effervescent neon glow of the death of Amsterdam and in the desert wreck, and the sacrifice of the Las Vegas Ram.  9.11 million would suffice from the seedy sh-t, I am not greedy, Yet, just a bank examiner among the killer bank set, where it is difficult to breathe for Prodigy and know, 9.11 mil for mine while we pursue the Evanescence show..

Segment November 27, 2007: WEAPONRY_tool_TWO_body_ALTERNATE_space

Recently I was near an apparent murder of someone in Alabama at the Lincoln and Talladega line.  A young man, Ben Stanford, was seen at that station the morning before I arrived, and he has allegedly committed suicide roughly 60 miles away in Villa Rica Georgia the next day.  I pondered, "How would you be able to make a murder in which a body is shot several times and stabbed look like a suicide with one bullet to the head?"  This may be pure conjecture, but it was worth the venture, as I feel the United States and much of the world has been taken over by a criminal syndicate that is so far ahead in weaponry that they make the  weapons available to the public look obsolete.  I must admit, I do not like the wealthy who kick me from government in the USA, and I do not like their federal agents who injected me with chemicals, and who may have been behind the attempt on my life in 2001 after FDIC employment and informing on the rampant crime syndicates and murder labeled suicide in the federal banking regulatory industry.  America is sunk, I care but I do not give a sh-t.  It is time to leave this planet or die very soon, if time is a matter.  Now about that weapon.

There are energies in space, momentums to be harvested, and gravity tunnels to explore.  With the right know how, you can use those technologies to perform egregious crimes or great goods.  I do not know if mankind qualifies for notice.  Perhaps that is why we are torn apart in many ways.   For instance, the mass media labors on and on about Pepper Spray placed in a Beauty Queen's make-up, but then never even once mention the forced injections and torture I and other veterans suffered at the hands of federal and local government, including forced injections and forced medical procedures in Los Angeles in 1999 and in my case in 2001 after reporting financial crimes and murder at the federal agency, the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation (FDIC).

If our inhumane enemies are to reign, let us assist in bringing mankind to an end if necessary. I encourage the manufacture of weapons to defend ourselves from the ruling regime. After all, they drew first blood on Americans, forced injections and psychological and physical torture in my case. No one cares, and I do not care in the regime has every one of their people removed, and I do not care how or where, as long as they are removed.

Now about this weapon.  The Sun seems to move back and forth from a distance.  The water moves in two directions at the equator in a five foot span on each side.  In that is evidence of momentum and mass with the cooling directive of the oceans as a sort of coolant for the system I am working toward.  This is very rudimentary and quite subjective, but I see it as plausible.  I am using deductive logic to explain the switching of the bodies, one shot up to be replaced by one suicide.

In this theory, a second body was duplicated to replace the first in some manner.  Now this is the tricky part in my mind.   For some reason I envision a spinning cyclone of two tunnels that resemble tornadoes but they are the same width throughout their length.  They twist and curl and can be lifted up with controls from the top, most likely, from space, and they may be so fast that they are invisible.  Also, there is the possibility of generating a field of energies or waves over a set width and in its dimensions where anything can be made to happen if one has the correct technologies within the set dimension, in much the same way the 3-Dimensionalizer can make an object appear and be composed of nothing but wave energies "inside the Cage of Faraday". 

Now, the question about the two bodies.  Numerous explanations could be given, including a matter and anti-matter complex and other explanations.     This is an interesting point considering that our universe, that beyond the stars, has a sort of outer shell, and they said it looks like a loaf of bread, but to me, it looks like a brain.  And if our own brains are any indication, there are two hemispheres or sides, near duplicates of each other.    There may be actually two of everything alive, each residing in the other hemisphere.  The movement of one body from one hemisphere to the other would likely require technologies we do not have, as the "apparent" time and distance is to far for a body to travel  in a short amount of time, under 6, 12, 24 hours or under 36 hours.

Could it be that there is a passage of a sort to move item from one hemisphere to the other and exchange them, e.g. Ben Stanford in hemisphere A being shot three times, and Ben Stanford in hemisphere B placed in hemisphere A and shot with his own gun.    If someone is building empires and getting people who are known to give them trouble out of the way in advance, then that person would have to see the future in real time or in emulation with all known variables and constraints. 

That is rather remote in possibility, but I am looking for the weapons of the regime in power.  They are international.  They are inhumane and do not deserve life for our death.   I was tortured after working at the FDIC, and the Veterans Administration was torturing others and their government is our enemy.  Perhaps one hemisphere will forget those who harm those in the other.  All hands and cards flipped.

Segment Comedy 11-20-2007: BRAZILIAN_veterinarian_BULL_braman

In Braman's house as in my house, he has his own electric chair.  The difference is though that Braman does his up in style.  I once met a Brazilian woman who was a veterinarian.  She would jam an electrode up a Braman bull's rectum, touch the prostate sending out an electric jolt and the bull would ejaculate semen that would be sold on the open market or checked for broken necks and such on the spermazoids.

I picture Braman on the set of my barely watched daily TV show.  He is in his electric chair, his legs spread for a demonstration of his personal electric chair with his legs in stirrups.  The lovely Brazilian veterinarian is there, "Bom Gia!."  I love her exuberance.  Former thief and Alabama Sheriff Jack "Snatch The Fairy Possum" Tillman is there to "Learnt somethin", and the lovely veterinarian guides Snatch's hand manipulating the electric probe to the right location on the prostate gland, and his head to catch the load, for Braman to ejaculate, "As a demonstration of course".  Braman Volunteers for anything unusual, almost.

The switch is flipped, the lovely Brazilian veterinarian tells Snatch The Fairy Possum to stand back in Porteugeuse "Mover afastado", and Snatch moves closer and the semen load shoots onto Snatch, who blinks his eyes. Braman's muscles sparming says, "Oh My, Oh ME!" and places his hand on his chest above Snatch's possum head. The lovely young Brazilian extracts the probe wiping off the jelly and said, "Oi". The proud mother of the lovely young lady veterinarian is on stage and says, "Wow! Smoke came out his Braman ass and touched bed", and a large round of applause erupts, semen confetti on Snatch's possum face who says. Afterward the announcer asks Snatch about his experience and Snatch replies, "Jesus cry many, I saw sparks down in his testicles through his d-ck". Braman slightly relieved and uncurling his toes from the involuntary muscular spasm, "Whew, that was semi-erotic" and me, well, Saint Ram Bone is a friend of la famila Brasilia and host to the Brazilian TV Show and I say, "No Dados", meaning "No Dice" or the "Soda Don", however you like it.

The announcer asks Braman who he felt before the operation, he replied, "Under Pressure" and when asked how he felt afterward, he winked his eye like a Possum and said, "I saw Annie Lennox Wearing A Possum Suit". He then puts Sheriff Snatch onto the electric chair, manhandling him by the package, and says, "This is our last chance, This is our show, Under Pressure" and "Bam". See music video, Under Pressure, Annie Lennox and David Bowie, Youtube.