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Quatrains 4-- SENTINEL VALUES AND VECHTER SIGHTS 4
The section on transgenics was moved to page Love Line 3, Comedy and Science. Warning, federal government criminals hack sites that utilize cable ISP providers and likely others. I count on it. Also, each segment is outlined by words connected together in a line and each segment was updated on a different date and the latest are up front. I will date them henceforth at the beginning of the segment line
Segment April 20, 2007: PROMISED land KURT dirt
I remember another life, another world, or perhaps it is a recall from someone other than myself, Kurt dirt, alias Saint Ram Bone.
Segment March 12,2007_9-11-2001_ANALYSIS_no_LIES_9-11-2001_ANALYSIS_no_LIES_9-11-2001_ANALYSIS_no_LIES
I will theorize, or at least start to theorize, on the events of 9-11-2001 in the USA and the events preceding that date, and our current condition in the United States, before that time and after, and I will try to bring in the entire context of that which I am aware. I see a condition has arisen in which we are better off dead than to be housed and imprisoned on this planet, Earth.
Like a blind man whose hands is anesthetized and who has his captors standing over him telling him he is writing a note with a pen, but in reality the blind man is writing with his own blood his will and testament to his captors who control the pen and write in their names instead of his family, we are like that blind man. The mass media and those who control government and the public schools and medicine are like his captors. Let us hope for a global war to rip their or IT's damned head from its shoulders.
Now, I am done detailing my motivation for the analysis of 9-11-2001 under current constraints and conditions.
WE know we the common do not control space. We know that someone somewhere is coming and going at will in continuums of space which we are not privy. We know that our nation's people in the United States have been relegated to a lower caste. We can see this fact in our current condition of non-ownership of factories and our exclusion from higher governmental office in the financial and political arenas. We know we do not control medicine and that many hospitals are now doing forced injections and labeling all insane who report the atrocities among us.
We also know that the world's main combatants are now apparently taking a back seat and we know that the United States has assumed the role of financier and supplier of men for the world's main combatants and their age old enemies. For instance, Afghanistan and Russia fought for years. The USA of yesteryear was Afghanistan's weapons supplier. Now, the USA is waging war on the Afghanistan nation and people. The USA also supplied Iraq's Sadam Hussein weapons for years as he fought the Iranians. We know that Japan has tried to conquer the Pacific rim for a very long time. Now the Japanese seem to be conquering the USA industry, both in construction of buildings and automobiles. We know that now EADS, a German weapons manufacturer, is now building and selling weapons systems to the USA on American soil and overseas. We know that many countries in South and Central America, including Mexico have poor ecomonic systems and sell drugs to survive. They who profit from the drug business have no love for the American people or any people who have tried to exploit and control them. They would side with anyone if it protects them and gives them financial rewards.
We know the USA mass media seems to follow the leader or assume the leadership role with those who control the United States. We know that the wealthy who now run the United States seem to want to starve public education funds, starve American industry and the investment in industry by Americans themselves. We know that the National Treasury Employees Union came to extreme power in the mid 1970's and we know that in doing so they violated sound governmental practice because their structure and control and power over numerous federal agencies violated the rules forbidding "collusion".
We know Casino's have spread across the nation since the 1970's. We know that the Casino's have most of their "Reported" gambling income taxed. We know that the nature of mankind is that of greed, and to have access to those gambling funds not reported, or "Skimming" as it is known, leads to the need to funnel money into legitimate channels, or launder money as it is commonly known, so that it can be used in the public sector. We know that the FDIC and Treasury and their syndicates complicit with the NTEU and the Casino's have enabled money laundering operations in the federal government. We know this because we can infer it from human nature and greed, the nature of the history of casino business and money laundering, and the fact that I witnessed where an FDIC director in San Francisco was killed in San Francisco and labeled suicide and that the USA government factions who killed him tried to silence me, a former FDIC bank examiner, when I reported money laundering. The Federal factions in Los Angeles via San Francisco and Washington D.C. and Alabama ordered me silent, Kurt Brown, alias Saint Ram Bone, on the FDIC situation. An attempt was made on my life, I was injected on several occasions and jailed. I was even diagnosed with an unexplained cut in my mouth and one dentist told me an old military dental filling looked like electronics, and I spit blood after going to court in Alabama. There were numerous other nightmarish anomalies that the website at Mobile Audit Club details about myself.
We know that the technology of warfare is now like a series of traps. We will have to fight back or we are better off dead.
Therefore, the attacks of 9-11-2001 indicated a striking back of Americans against the filth that has crept into the top of the United States industry and government. The American Airlines attacks on the World Trade Center were likely by Americans and the attack on the alleged "Vacant" part of the pentagon were by Americans. WE must ask, "What offices were hit directly on 9-11 in New York City and what was in the alleged "vacant part of the pentagon" that was hit.
It appears that Fuji Bank was on one of the floors hit by the planes and that Thermite was already in the building before the planes hit. I know for a fact that the Obayashi Corporation of Japan is taking the construction contracts of the West Coast of the USA from American Held corporations and Americans are bent down like low life dogs to their owners and managers from Japan and Japanese stock. It was also found that Marsh and Mclellan had huge data handling capacity directly hit on another floor. We can not be sure that the correct floors were hit or named in the reports given, and nor can we know every player in this war. It is cloak and dagger, it is cut throat, and it is insidious. However, if we are to be subservient to beasts, we should fight with them to our mutual deaths if necessary, like a puffer fish though, we should leave them or IT staggering before it dies. American Capitalism once meant hope, and now it means enslavement and torture.
Below is a letter I sent to an Ames Oklahoma individual who maintains a site about Ames Oklahama. I had a strange experience near Ames, I was almost hit by a meteorite near Braman and there are strange details surrounding the date and the time. Everything means something and somethings can not be ignored as mere coincidence. I will make a believer out of those who challenge me. I believe at some points in history, wars and pranks were waged by slinging meteorites and planets around. I belive the moons of Saturn could be used as transport or weapon. If Saturn really exists? Have you seen it? Same?
I am looking for something and do not know if I will find it here. I take it you are in the Ames Oklahoma area. I was almost hit by a meteorite in my truck when traveling north of Braman going North near Kansas on I-35 on December 7 at around 23:30 hours or 11:30 p.m.
I was told by a young woman long ago I would die at age 44. She predicted her own death, circa 1974 or 1975 in Monroeville Alabama. As an aside, my grandmother saw many people killed in a tornado in the old days. They spoke of malaria, and the town of Burnt Corn and Frisco City, which also has oil like Ames. Kelly was around 14 or 15 as I was when she predicted her death. She was beautiful, but a bit on the wild side, misguided by those things as I was, but she knew more about the eternal and the ephemeral, and she taught me both. Some say she was my female counterpart. She died too young.
Since that date of the meteorite, I have been haunted by the area. I want to move to Oklahoma but you have casinos. I was bank examiner in California for the federal FDIC. I was almost killed in 2001 for turning informant and the government has abused me. I would rather be dead, but I live, having been injected, knocked unconscious, and basically tortured and almost killed by the regime. YOu can see my story at Mobile Audit Club.
I ran a trajectory path of the meteorite that almost hit me in relation to the hole in Ames, Oklahoma. Going North I hit Climax Kansas and then Eureka Kansas. They gave or are giving away free land in Eureka. The distance is a Fibonacci number, or perhaps more simplified, a factorial, the distance from a to b, and b to c. Remember the Golden Rule is my message to our enemies in this life, those without humane conscience for thinking being, human beings included and their variants, and the Golden Ratio as it relates to the Golden Spiral. Watch out for falling rocks, Sweet.
If you see any one who seems odd in Ames, which to me means SAME, he or she might be related in some odd sense.
Do not count their fingers or their toes until you have counted their wings or wing fragments. I was determined to have some strange anomolies. I thought I was a genetics experiment by the federal government.
I would rather be dead, but I live on. Perhaps, I can not die, not YET.
Kurt Brown, Saint Ram Bone, looking to visit Ames to look for my SAME.
For those more astute mathematical observers, who calculated the distance from A to B and then from B to C, you may have noticed I did not perfect the Fibonacci number at its starting point to end up in Eureka. I suppose you would have to consider triangulate a point to attach to that point that preceded A in exact magnitude of two times as that distance from A to B, to acquire anything close to a Fibonacci number. Perhaps what I am truly seeking is a Dali expression as Jesus's suicide in the Final Supper art piece who uses the Golden Ratio in this artwork. Perhaps he too was a Wiseman on Rosewood and perhaps that is the SAME I seek extrapolating from Ames and Braman to find a Climax and the ultimate destination, Eureka, or is it? It is all falling down hill, and I am in that hole I could not get out of, "Sueet", we can bend things to be anyway we want them, Fibonacci or otherwise (mathematical formulas in the computational degeneration of Fibonacci). We know we have nothing if a machine heart is in control. Stone Cold. I hear the screams every time, I stutter until I cease to feel every time. Wiseman was a young man I met when I was a child. He came back from Vietnam and suffocated himself behind a building with a roof that looked like Arabic Tents, the old Bellas Hess in Mobile Alabama. It was a horrid city then as it is now. Where can I go on this Earth, Dali expression as Jesus's suicide in the Final Supper, Wiseman (Dali Art Final Supper.). We should not trust the USA government. Remember Vietnam. A Jewish friend, a woman told me Jesus lied. Perhaps he was striving for perfection. "I ate what, Fibonacci, Ames, Braman, Climax, Eureka, and lest not forget the head waters of the Adam's mark at the headwaters of Kaw City and Kaw Lake, or perhaps it is the foot print of the Great Whippoorwill's Ancestor and the meteorite hole at Ames was an attempt to kill the Great Whippoorwill. The foot print or the mark is Due East of Braman, and Braman had to readjust after seeing Kurt drive by with the captured filthy spirit of the regime's now terminated food funds thief Sheriff Jack Tillman. Tillman was a co-conspirator with federal war criminals who tried to have me, a former federal bank examiner turned informant killed. The filth of the local regime and at the higher ranks of the soon to fall nation still reigns. So I sing my song to them in this video artpiece, Whippoorwill Pea You Jack on LA Indymedia. It is a real Dali by Kurt Brown -- Saint Ram Bone -- aka The Whippoorwill.
I could not give compliment to the Big Kaw like a true old Sage, K, unless I also let my viewers hear the song, "Meet Me At The Warfield" (link to Indybay.org Indymedia article in mp3, The video is missing and will be reposted soon), about Brenda With Her Spoon Catering, and I have brought a few crows to look over us in the video. I know a stone cold feeling when I am near it, so I reintroduce myself and "The Wood", "Stone Cold In My Electric Chair". (Link to article on Indybay.org Both songs and videos are on the Mobile Audit Club Band page of this site.
In this segment I am going to speak of my people using their conscience, their higher level conscience to influence things and beings beyond themselves. Some may say, that is ludicrous, that is insane, and for them or "IT" that might be the case. But just as a magnet can influence metal particles, so do I believe that some beings can influence the unseen or unknown particles of the environment around themselves.
I recently read that a computer was set up to generate a bell shaped curve distribution of 0's and 1's on a large number simulation to prove the tendency of statistics to reach a mean average, or average, which is the supposed course of all natural things when left uninfluenced. However, that same machine did not produce a bell shaped curve, or mean average, or average curve, when someone stood in front of it and thought about manipulating the numbers to either 1's or 0's. Now whether the curve went they wanted is a matter not discussed by the article, but my point is that you can influence the unknown or unseen.
I would like to ask anyone who reads this to close their eyes, and think about the outer portion of our universe. It is light years away and is beyond all the galaxies we can see and all of the stars that compose them. It has the shape of a loaf of bread, or the shape of a brain as I see it.
As you close your eyes and think about this outer perimeter, consider it your outer sphere of influence, and if you are brave and imaginative or extra sensitive, see if you can reach beyond. I tend to stop at the shell or outer brain as I have trouble with infinity.
As you close your eyes and feel this thing, this outer shell, draw back and feel the outer you that is in control. There you will find the truth in its many forms. I tend to think of tentacles, or arms, or I tend to think of control from the outer shell. Fire a few thunderbolts at those things that hold you, wrestle it with your mind, or just feel what is there.
My point is that we can not let the outer world we see control the inner world we know. We are surrounded in the outer world by beings calling themselves men who devour the same flesh we feed upon, the same bread we feed upon, and they or IT is in competition with you and may even subdue you if they or IT gets a material constraint on that inner world we know in some fashion.
As someone once told me, "Things are never as bad as they seem."
Think about that one in your own fashion, but I consider it to be thus in one of many facets -- If you are comprised of flesh and flesh for large part is composed of water or H2O, and H2O is composed of Hydrogen and two Oxygen molecules, and each molecule is composed of particles known as quarks which are composed of electric charges which are composed of waves, you soon find yourselves in the world of make believe.
It is my belief that our creator is constantly playing games like a child. We are those playful and sometimes hideous thoughts.
In the end it comes down to "fight or flight", "repulsion or attraction", "negative and positive charges", and eventually the movement of all of things and ourselves along with it in a river of change, and we get wiser as we age. We lose imagination though and sometimes forget the beauty of the first time we witnessed or experienced something.
I urge you to reach beyond and to try and wrestle with that inner portion in the light of the dark. It is not for the faint of heart and some may say, that is insane. But then again, aren't you and I or "IT" competing or sharing the same bread. Competing or sharing, now that is like negative and positive also.
During the past 5 or 6 years, I have been tortured by the people I have come across who have power in USA government. I have been attacked.
We are told by those who are wealthier than ourselves, more educated than ourselves, and who are born with more advantages than ourselves, how we are supposed to behave, who we are supposed to believe, and what we are supposed to think.
We were taught to pledge allegiance to the flag that has liberty and justice for all. Then we learn that there is no truth to that statement at all.But then again, there is always fight or flight.
When I confront the people in the USA who appear to be the most loathsome, I notice a similarity among them.--.they seem to be without human hearts, without human compassion, therefore they are not humane.
The universe is huge. Mankind could be manipulated like smart ants in a box. They are told what to build and they are told when to die. They are told everything, from the day they are born until the day they die.
I see this ruling force as inhumane. Its hair is perfect. Its wrinkles are uniform and slight and in line. Its temper is controlled, and it never goes into the angry tirades that are common among the emotional and feeling humans. Its true nature can not be discerned without technological interference. It is mercurial in nature, large and voluminous, and it is impervious to our bullets and bombs. After all, it is not humane, it appears not to be human, and it may not be a valid and living creature we can kill.
We are no longer allies in the USA with the ruling wealthy. They have built a prison state and they teach us and our children to use drugs and alcohol. They have a monopoly on the addictive drug marijuana and sell it for the price of gold. They sell it and we and or our children use it. They are stupefied. They are fit to be killed and eaten like a spider monkey drunk on rice wine at a Chinese table with its head opened like a coconut, its brains the main course.
I see the regime as not human. I see Bush as an appparition or a facsimile of a man. He was not elected. None of them are. Humans are ignorant in these matters. They hold the stick to the ground and we climb up it like ants, following the path they lead for us, right into their damned ovens.
I consider suicide. I consider death. Suicide is useless as death is unattainable for eternity. It makes no sense. Therefore, I will hope for the day I can get those who have beaten us down. I want to slit their throats and drink their blood by the pound.
We are the outsiders. We are manipulated. The USA government is no longer ours. Their mass media is a tool we should snap in two, starting with their New York and Hollywood high rise buildings. They send us to their colleges to learn their trades. I encourage the trades of war, which is technological weapons design, strategy and goal implementation, and the complete negation and separation of their government and their church by government from our state.
We should support all who oppose them. After all, most of those who are opposed are us. I await a global war like a chicken in a rooster fight. I wan to pick the evil bastards brains when he is dead in the cock fighting pen. Wet my beak in other words.
Today, when I walk across Golden Gate Park in San Francisco near Haight Street, I think of the marijuana dealers there. Sometimes they are in abundance, sometimes they hide, depending on if the police have been arresting them. To me, now, marijuana and alcohol and drug abuse are an illness. Even the occasional usage signifies a low level sickness waiting to manifest itself. I feel this way due to watching my father ravaged by alcohol and the witnessing of my generation using marijuana and being ravaged by other drugs. This led to a dream last night, one that seemed too real, as if in the spirit world.
I had been in a temple of worship of some sort, and for what I am not sure. When I came outside I saw my father laying in the grass, face down. I thought he was intoxicated like those people you often see in the cities of the United States, laying face down, their limbs haphazard and his were partially tucked underneath as this was his customary fashion when drunk on alcohol.
I went to wake my father in this dream. I was slightly ashamed at first due to the large crowds coming from the temple and the groups of people watching me approach the man who I thought was my father and who I thought was intoxicated. Then I thought, as an adult, this is my plight, this is his plight. We were both held down and kicked out by those now ruling factions of the USA. He crumpled under alcoholo usage, and I have grown stronger and will soon make motions to sever our enemies strength at the core, their heads from their torsoes if necessary. Because not all coming out of the temple of worship are of humane mankind, and they shall not be treated in a humane condition when our war against them or "IT", erupts, or the war against whoever controls, "IT".
As I called out to my father I bent down to shake him to wake him up while he lay in the corner of the lot of the temple of worship, face down in the grass. I shook him harder and harder and he would not awaken, which was customary of his intense alcohol binges, but he did not make any sound or response, which was not customary.
As I shook, I thought he was dead, and then, it was as if his body disappeared and there was nothing more than a depression in the grass, much like heavy air, and it was in a tight coil. It rose up around me spinning and it began to take on a form of a shadow, splintered and torn, like shards of bizarre fabric. I awakened from the dream, and asked myself, "How nice it would be if those flashes of light and shadow unexplained in our waking hours were our loved ones instead of our perpetual enemies in this damned life?"
Then I pictured Uncle Sam with a hole to the heart, bleeding and unable to move, and his people wrapped in duct tape and tied to chairs, unable to assist. Then I remembered, my father was one of many of the people in the USA who was struck out of fortune at an early age. Because he was not of the favored class, and likely because of the illness of alcohol abuse in his generation, he never recovered.
Yes, I welcome war against our enemies in the USA. I encourage the usage of technology in thwarting their combat against us. The governments of Arizona, New Mexico and Nevada can forcefully inject anyone reporting criminal or dangerous conduct by government and put them in an insane asylum and take money from them when doing so. The federal government can inject you for being in fear for your life and take away precious family heirlooms, like old guns, and there is nothing you can do about it. The government in Alabama with federal approval can force you to give up a gun permit when in fear for your life. They can then block you from entering their closed door government meetings. It does not matter that a dead man of the banking industry lay as witness to those beasts, it does not matter that a man has severe post traumatic stress from an attack on his life. We do not matter to them, and it and they will not and do not matter to us. We are not allies, and we both know it. Yes, I want to see the regime bleeding from the mouth as we kick them in the streets.
But that is not enough. We need a plan to resurrect our grand society and to move it forward into the future, into humane behavior, into the outer edges of the brain shaped universe. Time is infinite, we in this conscience are not. Do not fear death with those bastards, bitches, and infantile beasts. But do not waste your life either. Have a recovery plan for our society. Have a cache of weapons and techniques that leaves them without teeth, and if they try to break our bones, then sever their heads and burn them on the sides of the wealthy streets and along the impoverished highways.
Never again serve the beast. Fly your American flag upside down until the regime is toppled. They are not us. Protect your children in the USA and many other nations. I fear that our children are being tampered with at birth. The unknown and unseen can leave your enemy as your master. Take a look at these damned United States.
As the old song goes, beware of smiling faces. When those of the regime come to help, they are in fact coming to hurt. I warn all veterans not to use Veterans Administration Healthcare. It is not worth it. They have injected me with federal assistance, gave me a felony with federal assistance, and taken away my fathers only remaining gift to me, an old Winchester .22 rifle with federal assistance. They also destroyed the video of 4-3-2001 when Sheriff Jack Tillman was taking my gun permit at the closed door government Mobile Alabama City Council meeting when I was going to report emaciation at the jail due to his food funds thievery. They also destroyed the video of the FDIC or NTEU thugs trying to take my camera on St. Valentines Day 2001 when I was filming the FDIC mob boss who had me terminated on 4-28-2000, George Masa. I will have them in a living Hell, come Hell or Hight water. Jack is already half way there, terminated.
If marijuana continues to be sold at the price of gold in California, I hope that someone shoots some of those politicians who are running amuck in the drug business between their damned eyes. And I hope every one of their politicians who allows forced injections is hunted down, held captive, mentally tortured as they have tortured many of us, and injected.
My father said to me as a child that we would walk up the mountain together. We never made it from within a few miles of the bayous. Now, I hope his spirit and my flesh walk up a mountain of our enemeis bones and essence. I want to scrape the "IT" factor from my boots like the dung of the universe that it is.
In explaining the world to myself and my predicament, I as of late, hold the hands and minds of the creator under the guises of the many eyes. It helps me to explain me to me. We, you and I, are the me, the we. It is one in the same, with counter conflicting currents since the beginning. The initial state of movement met resistance, and from that grew everything we contemplate as the we and the me. We or I can not contemplate the staid state of consciousness, in perpetuity, it is more than we can stand.
I see the human nature as sometimes animal. The name calling, the prejudice, the male ego in all. The female need to accomadate, assimilate, and isolate, are all part and parcel of the counter conflicting currents also.
Some say I am a red neck and they do not even know me. I have seen some who have been taught to hate certain stereotypes so much that they can or the we, the me, can not contemplate the cause of this evil ignorance in its many guises. We are in a training field, we are in the mind or the body cell of the creator. It is written in the sky, it is written in the shape of our universe, which has walls with lines of constraint and looks like a loaf of bread according to modern science.
I listen to the music of the Hebrew woman, the Arabic woman, the Indian woman, the European woman, the American Indian woman, the Asian Woman, the African woman, and it is all music to my ears.
I urge all to use humane conscience in all things. We have been misguided in some scripture of modern and ancient text. The monkey always creeps in, as it is part of the body politic since apes first ruled. The thumping of the chest claiming all is mine and that lines are drawn. You can see it in the European continent, the Asian, the African, and to some extent the American. I admire most of all the nomadic tribes of the mid east, and the American Indian, and the original Pacific Island crusaders, the adventurers, for they held the stars of the sky as they traveled.
I often wonder who is human, as I can see who is and is not humane. I can not judge the depth of the human condition. I am wrapped in this flesh, except for that spirit that guides me and touches me when I am in the presence of extreme friend or extreme foe. Today, I was given tomatoes by a wonderful man and I did not ask for them and I hope his inheritance is increased twenty-one thousand fold in the next life. I felt the touch of extreme friend before he gave them to me, on my right arm, that embrace of what I long for, truth and the humane universal being. I hope we are never cast to the soils again, but it is part of that greater life. I, we, me, will come up for air. Time is infinite here, as it is spelled out in the lines of constraint in the outer edges of our universe, our loaf of bread, of breath, of life eternal ephemeral. The counter opposing forces.
I see conflict everywhere, and I know it will be there when I die. The I, the we, the me, the us, the our.
I am not anti-Semitic if I do not want Israel to take what I see in current history as Palestinian lands. The lines are monkey like in the beginning. Our space is almost eternal or perhaps it is infinite. I, the we, the me, the us, can see the outer bounds of our universe. We are not there yet.
I am not anti-American if I do not want the USA or the Americas or Europe to consume the oil lands of the mid-East like they are a puppet state.
I am not anti-Christian if I want the Catholic and Christian churches not to disturb the cultures and religions of the unknown universes, or the conquered ones, such as Peru. Wisdom reigns in many things and the creator has many minds and eyes and noses, and heads, and hands, and ideals, and idolatries. The conflicts are inevitable, they are huge, and humans do not know the half of it.
Have you stepped into the world of the creator from the creators surface and interior? It is too vast. It is unimaginable. I chip at it like stone and marshmallow, but it it too much as I strike granite and the impenetrable and plastic surfaces. It weighs me in.
I was born in a state of ignorance. I was born human in a world of humans in a state and stage of deceptions. I know who is mine and who isn't from the start, but do I? Humane conscience leaves one with the feeling we are drowning. Perhaps it is part of the training, the deception lesson or lessons. If you stand back far enough, even the numeral 0 and 1 are discernable and indiscernable. It is too plastic.
I am not anti-semitic, I am not anti-anyone. I am anti-greed and anti-ignorance and and anti-avarice. Do not be led astray my fellow humane humans of intelligible wit. We are in for a lesson. If you are not ready for Hell, you should not practice it or preach it. We are alone, we are together, we are the we, the me, the I. We have been taught many lessons and will learn more. I fear for our children. I fear for us as children. I fear no one and nothing. I wish my teeth and then I bathe. That is the nature of bloodletting and heightened warfare. I wait for the calm before the storm, because I am always partially in it.
Know my face. Know the face of the creator. If you do not, you should stand back and look for the sentinel values, not 0 and 1, but the humane conscience, the we, the me, the I of totality. It is written in stone in the outer edges of your universe. Can you escape, can I?
We laugh, who the? Where is my lost friend in the prison system? He is everywhere, isn't he? I miss him and want him free, free from the disease. Thanks for the call caller. Where is Sergio and who is he and how did he end up there? Down on his knees, begging for mercy, growling in tears, "Please release me, please release us, the we, the me, the I".
(Regarding that last statement, when I, Kurt Brown--Saint Ram Bone, was forcefully injected by those men calling themselves US federal agents in 2001, when I was held in LA county jail after reporting what I knew about the FDIC, my past employer and the mob boss at the time per my investigations, and what I knew about Jack Tillman, Sheriff of Mobile Alabama, I met many fine men in jail. I wept at first in the cell, as I was innocent, I was just in fear for my life. Then I noticed that some men had greater strength and wisdom in these matters, but they had returned, apparently ignorant of how to stop their own blood letting. Sergio was a man of extreme faith. He may have done something wrong, but it was a sick society that led that man to his destiny there. I was just a bystander asleep in my truck with my telephone, a gun, and a guitar. I had done nothing wrong. I will play a tune one day for the creator and the bystanders, who I hope is a free man, a free man like Sergio. May he be cherished by his family. May we all be cherished in humane intellect and guidance without the sickness, this illness of the conflicted lesson of a begotten society. Who interjects where in our finest rhetoric is not a matter of option, but humane guidance is like a candle in the darkness. I remember societies, societies we will have to resurrect in totality. Can you stop it? stomp it? Can you survive my nightmare, our dream, our vision, our intellect? All I wanted was a normal career above the dirt. Now I find myself part and parcel of the eternal conflict, my vision, my dream, our nightmare, and I see where I have miscalculated. Protect your children and guide them in humane guidance and the age old strategy of conflict. It has to be humane in guidance or you are nothing more than a player with and part and parcel of a cockroach.)
It is all in the code. Some can not see the code. I can not decipher its complexity but I am in awe of its beauty, its depth, its everlasting paradox, the periscope through and in time. I can see it now in the outer reaches of our universe, sketched on the edge of the creators mind, at least the creator from the depth I can perceive. We are one. I am both the lesser and the equal. It is to my advantage. It is inevitable.
Just like 4-3-2001, just like 4-23-2001, just like 8-12-2001, just like 9-11-2001, just like 10-11-2006.
On April 3, 2001, I was going to report Mobile Alabama Sheriff Jack Tillman's food funds thievery. I knew because men were emaciated in his jail and I had corresponded with them and Jack knew it because the correspondence was read and he knew I was coming. I felt the urge to confront him. The rain came quick and left fast, like bloodletting of the heart. It was humid and the temperate beat of time left me sick and distempered, ready and willing to battle with another devil in a man's heart. Jack Tillman took my gun permit and denied my entry. Jack Tillman was terminated in 2006 for food funds thievery.
On April 23, 2001, I had parked outside of the LA VA Westwood Veterans Cemetery. I had a gun under my seat, legally owned. I was frightened of who would blow my brains out, Nazis like those of Jack Tillman or Mafia like those of the NTEU and FDIC, or a combination Mafia type Nazi. I was held by the VA and Secret Service and NTEU officials sent by the FDIC and forcibly injected. I discovered while in jail that the LA VA was doing forced experiments on veterans. Proof is in this site.
On 8-12-2001 I was released from Jail, but my ordeal was to continue for years, with extreme post traumatic stress and partial blindness due to poisoning while in forced exile in 2004.
On 9-11-2001, the NYC twin towers were downed. I do not think it was the mid east men portrayed on TV. I think it was something else, the "IT" factor. It is known that someone can project an image by using Sound waves, light waves, and radio waves as is illustrated in 3-D Dimensionalizer illustrated by the Dutch Artitst and Scientist and whose work is linked on this site.
On 10-11-2006, another plane slams into a building in NYC. Is it just an accident? Coincidence? Of course not. The clock work orange of the outer perimeter dictated it to be so, just as the date of your and my death is written in stone before we are conceived.
It is all in the code. Everything means something. When I see a wolf or a dear or a raccoon dead on the road, it means something. How significant I am not sure.
Ironic to me is the fate I have had with women. I hate to see any woman of any nationality get hurt if I feel she is innocent. It makes my gut instinct wretch out and sever the head of the man or beast hurting the woman. It is a natural excuse for my ugly predisposition to willingly engage in warfare. I do not deny myself that truth any longer. I am no man of peace. I am a man of action and reaction, love or blades, or blades to save my love. Like a clockwork orange, or a dancer from Hell, I know the tightrope is not owned by me, but I can play it in harmony until it is time for me to die. On that day, I go back to the code. I know the code and it knows me. I forget it ever so conveniently when I am among the code seekers.
The war is waging heavily in California for me now. Like the gypsy who was not allowed out of the basin, I have brought with me the tyrades of war. I did not want it to be. I wanted to leave, but my enemies and my allies had me stay, for the fight. Now, the Bushes are burning. Au Revoir I tell you in thirty tongues, and Buenos Dias I tell you in two.
It is all in the code. It is everywhere, especially in language. You just have to know how to read and decipher it. Some men want to fight for nothing. I would pick up the blade every time, but some just really want to dance. So I give them a shuffle and a heave ho and wish them well, because I know somehow we are related in the code. Death is there also, and I do not always dictate the dance. I do not fear the hogwash either, because I can scoop it up, sell it, and grow daffodils for my honies. Everything has its uses. Bush needs to wake up, and jar his idiot warmongering billionaire compatriots. The lie is out and in the open. Technology affords some wealth and it is as simple as multi-component machine that sets its own time. Eventually it corrodes, wrecks, or meets its own end time. Time is infinite, and so am I, even if I die. That is not the way I want it to be. That is the way it is.
Let me explain. April 3-2001 I was in Alabama, after having survived an attempt on my life from FDIC related assassins or NTEU, there is no difference in this cesspool. You can look up the acronyms on this site.
October 10, 2006 Segment...MULTI-PART ME....MULTI-PART ME...MULTI-PART ME...MULTI-PART ME...MULTI-PART ME...
In walking along my path in my daily life, I realize that those around me have contempt for each other and myself sometimes. It seems that when I am in the wealthier areas of the USA, such as in Tiburon California in a small enclave of high-end shops, restaurants, and hotels, that the contemptibility factor increases.
Therefore it indicates that the war is greatest in those areas, or at least the struggle.
I often wonder if I and others are blinded to our total being, so as we are contained and remain weakened, milked like a latent sea urchin or tube. In that I am talking about the possibility of more than one life form or perhaps a greater or larger being encompassing ourselves or myself and that greater being possibility of a totally different form than this male homo sapien I see in the mirror.
That larger being could be blinded to the reality, held down, and used. If so, I would rather have death for my entire being and all others of my flesh than to be constrained and held in this hellish life.
The governments abuse me. The media ignores me. I was taught to hate those who I see now as myself. They are in cages, or graveyards, and some I loved like family.
A large German looking man walked past me in Tiburon lately with another large man and acted as if he had something up his ass when he walked by me, trying to mock or intimidate me. On another night near Tiburon a large Jewish looking man another large man came from a closed film event on a street at the Strawberry Village shopping center near Tiburon. The guard there acted as if he was going to hit me for walking near the men with my groceries. It is my hope that they all go to war with each other and that this time they do not miss me or us. I would rather be dead than live in their presence.
More power to all freedom fighters of our sect in the world. We are being jailed on this planet and space is already mapped. Or perhaps, they have killed the true us and we or I sit staring stupidly upward, imagining I am in Hellish environment of pompous fat snobs indifferent to the common man's suffering. Invite war against the dope dealing and prison regime in California, and the same goes for the closed door federal government and the enemies who have excluded myself from government in my native Hell, Mobile Alabama. Support North Korea's right to nuclear arms. Bush or that faction with him has them. They are likely related to those two large groups who are like one, that I have mentioned above. The "IT" factor.
I have heard some speak of time as if it is finite. This miserable existence is finite in this flesh, this human nightmare, but time is infinite per my own calculations and assumptions. Assumption One, I exist therefore I have existed before and will again, ad infinitum in both directions.
The shape of our universe proves my theory. The universe is shaped like a loaf of bread, with striations down the middle and intersecting at 90-degree angles. Therefore one could say it is shaped like a brain.
It is in the striations that the truth is told. These are points of constraint and pressure. We float in space almost in a circulating motion, toward the outside and then back toward the inside, much like a colloidal mixture has particulate matter that floats in constant motion without touching the sides of the container.
Therefore one could say that we are living in a cesspool full of life. I believe to that end, the battle for life is continuous as it lends itself to the beginning of motion, resistance of the non-moving to the moving.
We should protect our children in manners I have outlined in this site, from conception and into latter years if necessary. Our enemies want us subjugated, and we naturally want them to leave us alone or we want them cast aside or dead if necessary. In that sense, I see the ruling regime of the USA and the world as being our enemies, and those who work them and abuse us as being potential brothers or fodder for the fires of our war against those who contrain us.
I actually hope for the end of our species, a global and intergalactic war that ends all of us. I believe the space we are in is the mind of the creator, and I just as some others, has an interconnect to that outer sphere of the greater mind. It has to be awakened, and naturally by the cessation of this nightmare in the USA and in the world, and it is being perpetuated by the organisms of the cesspool in the constrained universe of greater dimension, that is indeed shaped like a mind.
I recently left the USA for the first time to Canada. I was denied exit on 5-3-2006 and was almost denied exit on 9-15-2006. However I noticed something, maybe nothing, but something at the border patrol crossing on 9-15-2006 at the entry point to Canada. That is not to say that the Canadians know of this thing I will mention, nor is that to say that the Japanese know of what I mentioned when I saw a strange thing at an Obayashiusa interview this year.
The reason I bring this up is because I was sitting in conversation with one of more trusted colleagues in California recently. As we talked, a small movement was seen out of the corner of the eye, about the size of a USA quarter flipping about above our heads and to my right and to his left. I had seen this thing before and had never mentioned it. Thinking it was my own visual cortex experiencing problems pr simply my eyes partial blindance, I ignored it. My colleague pointed at it while he stared at me and said, did you see that? I said yes, and we continued our conversation. That was in early 2006 or late 2005.
I noticed that not only was the border patrol rude at first when I tried to enter Canada, which were the Canadian officials allegedly, but when I came back, the American border patrol was also rude at first. The Americans asked me where I was going to stay near the border once crossed. I should have asked him, why? Did he intend to visit me? Perhaps to inject me or perhaps to suck my Alabama San Francisco C0ck? "Why?" I should have said, and then asked, "Are you going to come over to suck my d!ck later?"
Anyway, on with my point.
When I first entered the border patrol offices to Canada on Friday, I was about to be denied exit. I did not present papers that I bought and paid for that showed that the felony given to me for legal gun ownership in Los Angeles had been dismissed and reduced to a misdemeanor. I was given the felony per the directive of the federal syndicate members housing the FDIC and Treasury and Secret Service and Border Patrol and Customs, etc. etc., the syndicate I will call part of the "it" factor, but has a name titled NTEU, National Treasury Employees Union, and which owns the LA Superior Court "IT" factor judges.
Anyway, when I was sitting in the border patrol holding area, after I had to present papers showing the forced felony had been reduced to a misdemeanor, something caught my attention as I watched with sober cognizance of our warlike border. It should be noted again that I was forced to sign papers of guilt with a one million dollar bail and forced injections and forced medical procedures and incarceration for what was going to be several years in an insane assylum if I did not sign the papers admitting wrong doing for doing what was in reality nothing except for sleeping in a truck with a moving trailer attached. In reality, I had been on the hunt for criminals in government and the "IT" factor that we will have to wrestle with, and someday likely have to kill the "IT" factors progenitor or mass. Beware as when "IT" is destroyed, "IT" springs back. See what is left of Saturn. We lost something in more times and in more ways than one.
I had had a legal gun under my seat and in the trailer in 2001 when I was arrested by LA VA Police parked near what I thought was a safe and quiet place, the LA VA graveyard in Westwood. I had moved the guns from the trailer to the truck in fear that someone would break into the trailer that night. Some people, most likely from the FDIC's criminal sectors orders, had tried to kill me in February of 2001 and a Sheriff Jack Tillman had taken my gun permit when I was going to report his theft of food funds in Alabama. That is another story from 2001. On with this true analysis and prediction.
After I handed the papers to the Canadian Border Patrol, which he called himself an immigration official, I sat in the chair in the lobby waiting area. As I looked toward the corner of the building to the rear where my papers were being scrutinized, I am not sure, but it looked like a moving collection of light, much like a small coloration area the size of a human, a small one, moved quickly and sloping inward toward the rear of the office in movement toward where the border patrol had my papers.
It may have been nothing, but after my conversation with my colleague earlier this year, I never discredit anything. After all, it appears the space race has been lost by the humane human element on planet Earth and our nation. The USA has become our prison with poor education for all and lack of medical care and even sterilization of reproduction of some individuals, and lest we forget the forced injections we endure since Bush was elected in 2001, which is allowed under federal bullying anywhere and in Arizona, New Mexico, and Nevada under a provision of their state's Chapter 36 law.
Anyway, the point is that I have noticed three things now, one of them with a colleague, who also noticed it. The spinning or moving of a floating quarter sized dark object, like a shadow during a conversation with a colleague. A bright white flash of light while in conversation with some Japanese officials from Obayashiusa corporation and some American employees while at a job interview in South San Francisco near the airport. And now this moving colored object, that resembled really a small northern lights or aurora moving in toward the back of the office at the border patrol near Vancouver Canada. All of them I have noticed this year, but I have seen the spinning quarter sized object on many occassions, before and since my meeting with my colleague.
As the mass media used to say, do not adjust your vision, this is not a test. And as I always fear, friend or foe, I do not know. I do not want to harm our side and if they have been led to harm us, I want to awaken that being if I can, rather than having to rid myself of its presence.
I fear a machine of some sort is at play or perhaps a being, perhaps a group of men, or their ignorant portion, we will have to test and rid ourselves of. After all, the war never ends. There are those who play mankind against mankind for their own ends and benefit. I would never treat Americans or Canadians in the manner I have been treated, especially for no "True" wrong doing.
We of the creative mind and hunter sect must be wary of those who call of us insane while our world disintegrates. I have often wondered why there are so few left handed people among us. Could it be that we are the avid hunters who utilize our minds in ways the lesser beings are not accustomed to? Could it be that some people have enough imagination and analytical ability to foresee the opponent and the "it" factor fear us? Could it be a long term war and we are losing our people to something we can not predict? Or could it simply be that lesser men who think they are great are straddling the earth by utilizing mankind's paranoia and greed and ignorance?
Do not fear war. Do not fear death. Do not fear the machine. If we can not improve our plight on Earth, I hope "it" and all of "true" mankind is destroyed, post-haste, with no thought or remembrance of the kill by the lower order, and that the upper order remembers this mistake and never drags living thinking beings into a prison hell called Earth, Saturn, or any other planet. In other words, to those who strangle our livelihoods and well being, and to those who preach prejudice based on religion or the color of our skin or our bone shapes or other features, and that is all of us to some extent, wake up. We are in a prison hell.
Next stop my native city, Mobile Alabama's closed government meetings. They are the "IT" factor in some portion. We often are not allowed to vote. WE are impoverished and education is often unaffordable. It is a place of hopelessness and despair for many. One friend told me there, I should have moved to Canada instead of coming back to California once I got the papers. I thought I could regain a job as a federal bank examiner for the Treasury Departments Office of Comptroller of Currency in San Francisco, doing what I did as a bank examiner for the FDIC, hunting criminals in their ranks and in Americans banking systems. The "IT" factor fears me if it has fear. The Treasury Department's OCC never returned my call, and neither did the US Navy in Hawaii. Now I can leave the USA, but I have a war to wage. I want to pull the source of our pain out like an oyster from a shell, and cook it until it is blanched, then I want to feed it to worms and dance on its grave with women of every nationality and religion and celebrate with their enlightened brothers as we build bridges into space. Go North and Turn Left was my directive if I wanted to Go East. That sounds contradictory, but we all end up in the same place, in the end.XENOPHOBIAcollideOHscopeXENOPHOBIAcollideOHscopeXENOPHOBIAcollideOHscopeXENOPHOBIAcollideOHscope
Martin Luther King (Martin Luther Kind) had a dream. Perhaps he never discussed his nightmare. I will discuss both my dream and my nightmares on this full moon night in which I have awakened in the sick feeling of cold sweat and a prison not of my own making, but by those or it that deserves extinction.
My dream is space colonies where men are humane to each other and there are no deceptive men or beings among us who are as cruel as living devils, which are in fact very much alive in our space and time or this consciousness period of extract.
My nightmare is this. I see my people cut in two. Living and cut. I have seen this among fellow veterans in a sense and they deserve to be rewarded in all fashions for what they have lost, as their nightmare is closer to daily reality than my own, but I still long for my own extinquishment of consciousness since being held hostage and injected and abused and thrown out of government. But I want those rewarded, those whose spines were severed in two. But I see my people coming to me in two pieces. Their upper torso remaining and their lower gone, their bodies like sacks that crawl or rather do not. They whisper to me in silent shouts that they have cut us in two, those who are our enemies, those who hold us and forcibly inject us, those who stop us from voting or entering government buildings, those who stop us from having our promised trials by jury of our peers, those who like that might which be the bad side of us, food funds thief, Sheriff Jack "Snatch" Tillman, now terminated in Mobile Alabama. Remember 4-3-2001 Jack, when I was living in fear for my life from federal assassins in the FDIC and NTEU and I was also fearful for your inmates, one in particular who my mother had told me was emaciated, and you stopped me from entering my native city's government city council meeting, and you had the blessing of those corrupt fascists that rule there, the "It" and they still rule and abuse. Judge McMaken of Mobile Alabama who did not uphold the Open Meetings LAW should have this dream, this dream of closed governments, severed torsoes and injections he can not stop. Our enemies laugh at small things and ignore the bigger picture. They are like insects that rule in the moment of death. They laugh out of ignorance, like insects feasting on the last morsel and seed. Not only he, but those of the federal government who injected me and forced signatures from me in Los Angeles 20 days later. Those fat headed Los Angeles Superior Court judges whose pockets are full of cash and their hearts full of putrid decay, and their tiny little district attornies who strut like kings, telling us we have no rights as written in the now defunct and void US Constitution and Bill of Rights. In my dream, I want them or "It" dead for eternity who crushes our rights under those documents. I was in jail soon after while you Jack feasted and laughed. You, Jack Snatch, are the cud chewer and the shit eater, or perhaps you are just a brain damaged section of the creator or you are part of my or our nightmare.
Worse, I see our people completely severed and our spines immersed in a bath of fluid and our heads above or in the liquid. But we do not know the truth, we only feel the frustration of being out of control. The true nature of our people, having been injected and then taken down one at a time, much like I was forcibly injected after an attempt on my life by assassins related to that evil regime in power, that which houses the corrupt FDIC and NTEU and their treasury, and in a sense, the entire government that has abused us and continues to do so willingly and or unwittingly. I can not afford to live on their pittance so I struggle and ignore my own pain, the occasional pill my only relief. After all, I am not hired as a bank examiner in our corrupted treasury and the companies are owned by foreign nations who despise me for being a veteran, an American, and the locals of California see all Alabamians of which I am aware, as their lesser. I despise some of these people and want a nuclear device, but some are like saints, so I withhold the blast in my mind. Now my enemies will not let me out of the USA to my chosen area, lieing on documents and smearing my once good reputation further, but I will try again and then I will eventually return and enter my government in Mobile Alabama in my nightmares, as in full armament of war to end this thing, this "It" that rules over us like a primate primal warlord wizard lizard of insect and tenuous virtue.
This nightmare has us immersed in the bath. Delirium of death is our consciousness. Our spines move in the fluid and some can feel them move, muck like if one wanted to move it and had a fish like torso remaining, but is it there at all? Is it just an open spine or is there something else there, perhaps a food source for some ancient beast with no feelings for beings. Regardless, in this consciousness I have spinal damage. I feel the tingling in my lower half, that fake sensation or is it real. They create my nightmare and then say I am insane. They or "It" is insane. Ask the child at the roadside in Palestine or Lebanon. Soon, ask the remnant of Israel. Ask the poor of all colors in Lower Alabama, starting in dark Prichard, my first home, and then migrate down Lott Rd. to the poor of lighter complexion. We are the same and I encourage the cessation of all derogatory racial terms. All of them. They or it uses the terms to divide. They or it is filthy rich and insane and applauds our silence in the court of that which we will have to kill, mercilessly.
I turn to the Hindu and ask why? I see she eats no meat. I turn to the Buddhist, and I cry. I see she has no feet. Thanks USA government for the nightmare of 2001. I worked as a bank examiner for a short period up until 2000. Thanks for federal government for allowing us to have oil, so the temperature changes and the salmon dry up and die in the Klamath. Thanks federal government for allowing that drug that allows the foolish to escape, that drug you claim is not addictive, but which is, to be sold at the price of gold.
Keep your damned pot, keep your damned oil. Put us out of our misery or set us free. I believe regardless of what happens, we live in the mind of the creator and for the creator to allow us to live in either realm, that of my nightmare, my dream, or our reality, the creator is obviously indifferent and or insane. But how much does and does the creator suffer?. Death is a godsend if it is total and complete on this day. I trusted the USA governments, but now they inject us at will. Federal government and state governments such as Arizona, New Mexico, and Nevada. The politicians who allow this and the judges and courts should be checked and executed, but you can not touch "It" in this nightmare. Oh, to be Kind, it is such a rarity. I herald war as that is the nature of man or man's "It" factor. Let us hope the humane in judgment take control and severe that insane portion in the creators dream. Awaken him like a beast so that "It" may play like a child, learn, and mature into an adult, once more. We are at the end of its stick and being severed.
They may say, "He Hates Us with his immortal soul". I do not think the creator hates. It is all in the construct to put you in this bath, soon.
Today's unedited diatribe is on Indybay.org. I no longer believe in this nation, or this world's leaders who are afforded to us, especially those I know of in the USA. I feel there are greater weapons poised at our heads, literally, from the time we are born. It is as if we are surrounded. Our military leaders talk about missiles and intercept systems for missiles. The true war types have them beat at the gate. We can not even escape the missiles. Those above us can. It is a layered concept of development in physics and hence warfare, and it goes beyond that to the nature of the human of cellular condition and how it interacts with space and time and our own consciousness and where we stand.
I drop my guard and I am in fear. In the USA I have tangled with the greatest adversaries to man, I am sure. I am outmaneuvered even by their imbeciles. The agencies of the federal government and their union, the National Treasury Employees Union is my lesser adversary. I want that union and all unions in the governments destroyed if they span more than one agency or function. I am talking about a full scale engagement bringing in the latest tools and methods. Not missiles and guns, but accelerated methods of time laden physics and control of the mind and disposal of our adversaries positions or the apparitions therein.
They call us scabs, those parasites robbing us of everything. I want their positions erased from all groups including Washington D.C.. I do not care how it is done, but I believe it will take the latest tools and methods to rid ourselves of them. It may be too late. Then I want the Treasury and FDIC criminal syndicates done away with or their apparitions of honest government workers removed. We are not their slaves and we are better off without the oil regime also, so we will have to be calculating and make a wide technological sweep to rid ourselves of with them as well. We have been torn to tatters and tears and our nation is a dumping ground for refuse of our children and theirs.
Protect your children at birth. Build shelters that are layered with nonconductive materials such as lead and various thick rubbers such as those on submarines and some aircraft and build the birth chambers underground or in stone if necessary, sealed, with locked door chambers with testing materials to make sure that which is unseen can not enter. Use the latest jamming and magnetic wave disturbing equipment you can, and try even to push neutrinos away at the outer shell with various methods. I am not a physicist. I am a theoretician.
It is natural to protect your young. It has been that way since the beginning for all. I am partially blinded from a poison that was sprayed in my window while in forced exile in 2003 and 2004 by the federal and California and Alabama governments . Tonight I walked down a street in San Francisco after having a meal out, which I rarely do due to mistrust, and it looked like someone tried to drop something in my coffee after my meal when they walked by. I could not see in that part of my vision due to the partial blindness because of that enemy thing in power that had me in exile and alone when I was partially blinded. I say crush and remove through technological means the corrupt government in Los Angeles and their Superior Court and also clean out the Secret Service, a NTEU agency, and the Veterans Administration in Los Angeles for injecting me and forcing me to sign papers stating I was a felon for simple gun ownership for being in fear for my life. I was promised a later trial by jury. I was denied that option the LA Superior Court, where our enemies reign also, in addition to Alabama's courts, including the hidded Judge McMaken who does not believe in the Open Meetings Law for all. The mass media said the blacks suffer in New Orleans. It is a distraction. It is we the humans who suffer, the humane humans often, and from the ruling regime's lower caste. It does not matter what hue your skin is
Protect your children. I am getting older now. Partially blinded and in constant fear in this prison known as the United States, where the regime in power lied on documents at the Canadian border forbidding my exit. I want a world war and space war with it that rules the earth like a damned prison camp. I want whatever it is that has me in its grip to let go, or die, with or without me. Never again serve the regime in power. They also did forced injections on me and experiments on others. The United States is primed for a revolutionary war. Protect the next generation and help them to develop the next set of physics tools based systems and to analyze how they can control space to utilize it in cognizant development of man and the cosmic consciousness.
In those moments when I look at myself, I see man for what he is, I see myself, I see you, I see us, I see me. Hideous. I want to stay hidden. I am forced in to the light , little by little, come and go. I am allowed to see, the ugliness only when I catch the over riding conscious asleep. I awaken in the night so that I can take a peek at this scab, this covering, this thing that is left, this insanity of what once was glorious, or was it.
I live in abject horror, in abject fear, in abject terror, until I look in the mirror in the late of night, awakened fro sleep. And then I see me, what is left. I do not want consciousness. I feel like a weakling because I feel the creator has lived through this and grown greater than I, yet I whimper like a child in a battlefield with his brain turned into a plug of scabs and death. I want eternal death. I want no part of this thing the creator has put me into. These people and things pass like shadows. Once my friend, then my enemy, then my chastiser, and then I realize they are just like me, hideous.
I chase those things like a wolf that disgust me. Those criminals of the underground who rule the above ground here in this strife. I know this is a nightmare that will end. But what then, do I get to see the real me, that thing, that bizarre mass, that ugly hideous thing or things. Why I ask? I turn on my computer searching for answers. What computer? This thing that only gives me the answers that do not satisfy, those things I have already seen. I have been tricked. Maybe I too am insane, like the creator. But who or what is the creator? Those passing shadows someone tries to cling to to give a name. Ecclesiastes, Muhammad, Buddha, Ethereal Conscious, and how can I forget Ganesh. I fear and pity this creature, this image I will endure and you. This image that will suffer more than I. I feel I know him in the human contrivance, where some will try to manifest him by combining the genome of elephant and man. Moaning sick, wanting to be neither man nor elephant.
But what about the contradiction of wealth? Ecclesiastes says not to worry about it, but the alleged writers of Ecclesiastes appear to harvest it and hold it as bees to honey or flies to bloodied feces covered sputum. Yet we all know without it, we can not even get medical care and will suffer. I would rather take the eternal bullet to the head, the crushing effect, never to return to this damned lie. I am excluded. I am the junk man. I am hideous. We all are really. No ones feces smells nice and we all hop around like bloated anuses. Or do we? This illusion of life makes me want more. Death, eternal with no glimmer of light or consciousness. Nothing to think with or about. Nothing. Lights out. Darkness mute. The indescribable. The creator stands strong and looks at me pathetic. Or is that the creator and not some maggot chewing at what was once my brain? I feel it is time for breakfast. Do not smoke pot or opium. Lieing bastards put tourniquets on us. Perhaps they are the flies. I am disgusted by them when I take off their tourniquets. I am disgusted by them when I have their tourniquets. Just one more creature to be enslaved to. They steal that wealth. Some of them encourage me to join in on the melee. I even fear her. This war has no end or boundary. Pompous asses of the wealthy class stick out like a sore thumb in line of a bayonet. Their day will come and then they will look like me in the mirror in those darkest nights when I awaken and catch the creator with his thumb in his eye, and mine.
I feel often the arm of someone ethereal holding mine. Touching me. A doctor once told me I had bad blood flow. Another says nonsense. All of these lies and deceptions and wars. I want someone to strangle me. I am nothing but a dealer of junk. I am educated and yet stupid, like Ganesh will feel in the human contrived form. Stupid tangled mesh where he can not see the truth, only that ugly sinister self, not knowing what is truth or fallacy or lie or real. I want my eternal death. I am held captive in the hotter part of the earth so the flies can eat at me more quickly, this ugliness, this scab that is my blown out brain. Or is it?
I miss my childhood sometimes, but I would never want to relive the horrors and fears. It was not so grand. I was taught to love, taught to hate, taught to love to hate and taught to hate to love. I was taught to kill that which was innocent. I was taught to eat. Where have the teachers gone. Now I am urged to become one, a teacher. How can I teach? I am hideous. I am the junk man on a welfare ticket with a fake illusion of a badge. Pathetic. I would rather be dead but the creator will not allow it. My friends who were as twisted as I, more twisted than I, stronger than I, are now dead. Where is he? He even changed in my eyes when I was becoming educated. Preparing to move on to that portal of life next to heaven. This is hell. This is the mundane waiting to become hell. Then I die. Then the hand that grips my shoulder and the forks that tear at my back go away. Or do they? That is when those wings or remnants in my skeleton reveal if I am a fly, or portion therein, a genetic experiment by ghoulish men or creatures, or if I have another destiny. To fly away and fly and fly, and have those who see me flying away, hiss and say, there goes the lord of the flies. Should they fly also or are they puppae not at the developed stage, waiting to die so it can begin again.
I hear the old people copulating. For what? A taste of flesh? Who is the fly anyway?. Even my dreams tell me to accept the genetic manipulations of man. But is that not what life is, one creator damned mistake after another until the ugliness reveals the truth. Tired and exhausted, does the creator look at him or her or itself in relief and shock and awe and indifference and in the multitude that is insanity or the truth or seeking of it therein. I wonder if he she or it would rather be non existent, and is it forced to do so.
I wanted to flee to the North. I wanted to hide under a canopy and do dope and then forget about doing dope. I have done so anyway. I am looked down upon for escaping. We all are. We were taught to laugh about it while they grabbed our theatre money as children. I wonder why my parents allowed it. One was too drunk to tell, and the other one, well, perhaps blind and naive to the true nature of the beasts that surrounded her children, or perhaps, who knows. Her death was hideous as hell. Poor woman.
What does it matter? I am hideous in some sector and admirable in others. I suppose it matters who is telling the truth and the lie to my eye and my blind eye, the one that really sees, something true. Men sometimes come to me from the shadows. Following me like soldiers. Looking for me to raise them up. I want to, but I know it may be for naught. We are the casualties. I can not do anything for them or myself. I am the junk man on a plane ticket to a welfare line. I am forced out of the hunt. I am either too good or I am hated for being me. I would rather have death and nonexistence for myself and all my kind. We are a reflection of that broken remnant. We can not exist, we can not die. I wonder why? Why I may not exist at all, but just be a dead illusion, a remnant of death, and I wait for the shroud so I can see the other side, where I am told in the lie or the line that I will know the truth then. I certainly do question the "Truth" now. So many contradictions and implications and feelings indescribable, I know I have lied to myself or it to me. It touches me between the eyes like a fly.
In contemplating what is known as the Devil's Triangle in fighting criminals in government, I have mistakenly come across the triangle of fire, which consists of heat, oxygen, and fuel. This same paradigm can be applied to fighting criminals in the current regime, at least on the surface. The greater fire fight is more on a microscopic and macroscopic level and is more technological, at least from our perspective, that of the human mind and perception.
Unfortunately for us, being at the disadvantage, we the common of ethics are being burned, from the time we are born until the time we die. For instance, I created my own triangle by accident and through auditing. Two of the points in the triangle were intentional and I was testing and auditing and knowing the whole time that the fire was there, but I had to prove it. The third was likely the most pivotal for myself, to my detriment, and to the other people I was after at the other two points. However, both of them fared better than I did, at least from what I can tell. I have been burned and torn to pieces, but at the same time, I have become hardened to the point of being dead inside, so I do not feel as much if we have a full heated battle to our mutual deaths.
Some people do not understand me, but I am not like them. We could even be different species on some sub-species level. I know of some differences, and I hear the moaning death or birth of that greater being of mine that has been attacked and I hope the creator hears and sees and is there to help. If not, I want it all to collapse on itself very soon, and I am sure it will be helped in that direction, if need be. That day of us looking at each other as allies in this nation, the USA, is over. I would never sell dope for the price of gold to an addict and I would never make it available to children or even the advertising of it. I stand alone, I stand among thee my multitude. We are starting to have a free for all fight in the USA and the world. I do not know who to side with in the mid East, Israel or Palestine. I side with both, I side with neither. I feel more like a Palestinian as I am an underdog also, at least in this phase of the greater life. Yesterday, I sided with Israel, as they stood alone and battered on the head. I side with the underdog because the creator hates me and loves me. I fight and die by the side of the creators true majesty. I feel nothing for a drug lord, even if in Tiburon, CA, a wealthy enclave in the wealthiest county in California. I feel nothing for an abusive bully even if in Washington D.C.. We can fight over a stretch of cloth for eternity and find we are fighting over dust, like mad men with mad cow disease. I could make a ham sandwich out of it and those who do so and feed it to a pack of dogs or wolves. But in some sense it hurts me also, because we are made to be a reflection of each other, whether you can sense it in the higher dimensions or not, like a care free and calloused imbecile child if you do not.
Anyone who messes with our family soon finds themselves in the dumpster, I do not care who they are or who they hail to, as mine will always hail to conscience or empathy, even though we may sometimes go astray due to the environs of hellish life in which we are cast. We are in the creators pocket and the creator is in ours. Would you fight to the death for the creator, even if the creator was the underdog and subject to lose? The answer, that if you said No, and said I would fight for the winner of the fight regardless if I knew who was going to win, you may find that it was a test and that he or it you have fought for is better than you, and you are punished by being it's future remnant and slave.
I have lost much in this life and financially I am reduced to ruins by lesser men or evil living devils. It does not matter, as like Ho Chi Minh or Mao Tse Tung said, "They will devour themselves", which is what is happening in Capitalist society. Although I do not know if we have control of that society. So we must ask, "Who is devouring whom?"
The three points of my devils triangle on the smaller world scale is San Francisco, Los Angeles, and Alabama. All three tie to Washington D.C., the throne of global evil and subjugation and indignation, and at the same time, a perchance sliver of hope, but who knows....got dope? Got Prisons? Got cash for the price of hell and a sip of iced water?. It is the auditor who is burned in the corrupt society and it is not the other way around. America is a corrupt society and the fabric tying us together is drawn and torn if it exists at all. What may exist is the sinewy mildew like snot that was our forefathers tissue, their hopes and dreams gone for naught.
Perhaps I walk in the wrong circles. I am disgusted by the lie of the drunken bar room of millionaires, want to-be millionaires, and a collection of sluts who are starving for one thing or another. The same goes for the smoky cannabis clubs, where good men are hooked to a tourniquet at $400 or more for an ounce of monopolized market marijuana and they lean their head down in a laughing stupor forgetting how miserable life was, and then returning to find they are more broken than before, and then returning to the stupor once more. Some men do not have the willpower to surface from the nightmare, the facade of intoxicated happiness, on their own. They never come to understand the nature of the fight, for the bliss.
On with the fire triangle, fellow auditor and cop and investigator. Listen to what I say. When a fire burns it needs fuel, and that fuel is you. The trick is to set yourself on fire, and then run and start another and then run for cover so they burn each other out and those behind them. If you get caught in the hiding spot like I did, you are best to find where to start a fire there, because then they have to collide together and if you can find some freedom, you can walk out with a torch, hence my writing this is the torch or the light on this day.
I discovered the first two fire points by intuition, The first...a dead bank examiner for the FDIC and obvious criminals getting bank charters and sweating bank presidents during bank examinations, and a familiar pattern of the same bank examiner in charge at those characteristically criminal enterprises. Of course when I was terminated for no real reason, I knew the persons signature on the page indicated his wealthy mask was not as pink as it should have been and was wrought with the ugly vacancy of death and decay and that his ethnic background matched that of the suspect bank examiner. Most internal syndicates are based on genetic lineage. That is not to point at any race, as all are guilty to some extent during various points in the eternal history of our times..
I tested the FDIC fire point and it came back positive when their criminal syndicates tried to kill me.
Now, the second fire point. Not knowing that the first would ever lead to a second fire point I became involved in Mobile Alabama politics using my fledging accounting and auditing and bank examination knowledge to look for flaws in my crumbling native regions government. I had no clue what I would soon discover. They were not like me at all. They were lesser beings and they ruled. Had I been tricked? Had my family been sucker punched? Did some know the truth? Yes, but not as in-depth as I would soon discover in my own investigations..
I noticed that no one cared when I reported an attempt on my life. They were vacant eyed, like money machines or drones for a lesser being at their remote control. I noticed that inmates were dieing atrocious deaths and I had reports from a beloved family member of malnutrition of some longer term inmates at their jail, whom she had visited, some people who I consider family, family led astray at a young age by those derisive elements in our greater social fabric that is like a sickening mold of death and decay.
So the second fire point was to draw out the thief of the food funds, and I did it by letting those people know in the government of the first and second fire point, criminals at point one, which was the San Francisco and Sacramento FDIC. A Sheriff Jack Tillman loomed out at me, ironically when I was led to coax the food funds thief out on April 3 of the year 2001, and he in turn took away my right to carry my firearm, despite my surviving an assassination attempt for my informing on fire point one, the FDIC, and which I had reported to local and federal authorities. (Tillman actually was hording and stealing over $300,000 from inmate food funds and men were dieing because of his neglect and abuse. The media is whitewashing and trivializing his crimes. Note: I see you and raise the ante, Jack Snatch) I was soon to be labeled a menace to society by fire point three, a point that truly hurt but was most revealing, and it was because of what had happened most recently at point two which was tied to the burning point of point one..
The third point was not intentional. I was seeking shelter on Veterans Administration property for a short period until I could find a home in Los Angeles, so the first two points could be manipulated and made to collide and burn themselves out. My original intent was to do so by having a stand up comedy routine using the material at burning points two and one I suppose I was also testing to see if I had allies at point three, the federal Veterans Administration system. I discovered they are a divided camp and I am nothing but something for some to burn, and for others to manipulate in that greater firefight, those with conscience against those without conscience. (see "Continuing Problems" section) I do not mind if it is part of the creators goal to have eternal life for the good of all life. If it is otherwise, I would rather have my entire family decimated before we are shackled for eternity into this nightmare I know, somewhere half way between life and death. It is easier and preferable one way or the other and you will discover what I am talking about. It can not go half way. The table will be tilted, I assure you. Self righteous faces and phrases will mean nothing. It is the action of the needle that presages, not the other way around. So think about that one on your religious text visit next time around. That blood on your shoe better be your own, not mine or my family's, because you could lose your foot and then your head, and I will not do anything but point to where the needle is reflecting in the off beat on my side of the mirror, which is usually opposite and reflective in more than one dimension. We might be a different species and then again, does it matter in the free-for-all melee? Chaos to self destruct is molting odd and new.
They tell us to be quiet. Sit down, shut up, and do as you are told. Gorillas and monkeys love to play with venom spit until it is in their own damned eye.
I personally do not care. This life has been like Hell in its more dire moments of truth and disgusting discovery. I just want to finish the fight, the filthy, win or ooze. It makes no difference to me, to us, not really, many just fail to realize it and run around pointing their bloodied self righteous finger in my eye and ire, if I have any at that moment that are visible or caring enough to notice.
It makes no difference now about the third point in the fire triangle, my own personal devil's triangle. Even my computer screen has the imprint of a hoof. It is not there by my design, but that of the creator. The implementing of the first and second law of thermodynamics, entropy and enthalpy. Who else would have known? Or cared? Other than me. I have to look at the imprint and be reminded daily that my life has become one of squalor and insipid apathy. I saw it coming. I knew it was here. I came here to fight, back to this place I once respected but now see as a lesser paradise, the dope den of the bay area, with its loose morals and social decay. I like the freedom, I despise those who pervert the beautiful things. I despise cages and do not want to look up a man's anus, but if that is where you find paradise, I am sure someone will oblige.
We can deflect that which is not permanent in mass, but only if we remain conscious of it. That takes conscience to do it right, to keep our teeth from grinding to the nubs in a state of frenzied intensification of ghoulish goals. We hate each other when we talk of war. We feel it like we need it, to tear the others head off, like wolves in a fight. How nice, how brutal, how clannish, until you are on the other side in a losing knife fight. But it can't stop, and neither can I, or is it up to me at all. After all, I am already half dead. I stand on the outside looking in. I understand the ooze and want no part of it, but I am drawn to look for what once was, or is it I that has changed in such magnitude? You self righteous puritans may know what I mean and claim you may know what I need. All I can say is, in the next life you will likely be looking up a man's anus so don't chagrin me in this one. We are different. I understand conscience and perhaps you do too. I save myself in my own time. I am used to it, after all I am half dead already, so where in the hell do you think I have been and who do you think I have been fighting with and fighting for. It may be in the manual but I doubt it.
So here I sit in the middle of the devils triangle, hooked above or underneath the point where the real firefight started, the bay area of San Francisco. I wanted to leave into Canada but I was denied access due to lies by that third point Los Angeles federal and state government, which was directed by the first point, San Francisco FDIC criminals. They are still there somewhere in the FDIC. They do not need the entire organization to run their enterprise. It is like molded bread, and the hole is hard to start and just as hard to spot, but it is there and likely will always be. Therefore if all indications are correct, capitalism is dead and so are we. But half of us already know it while the others run haphazardly with eager anticipation. Self righteous maggots ooze to the top pointing to the holes where they dwell. I will find them all in due time or they will find me. The needles persuade and presage. You just think you have control of it. We are like livid jokes with a tale to tail.
The triangle of fire, and I see it needs me now on a micro level and a macro level. The dream I had in which the old Jewish guy and his daughter were there reminds me not to hate all the Jews for what I see as brutish carnage in Israel in modern historical accounts. (In the dream, she told her father that I was going to be burned by honest mens adversaries. I almost was burned in my vehicle in 2001, and then I was burned in America's corrupt courts by our opponents in the banking system and the judiciary. The injections on VA property and the betrayal were worst after I had been running with nowhere to go. I should have left the USA, but I did not know the VA was corrupted and indifferent and inhumane in that sector, LA VA Westwood, 2001.). I did not have any known close family burn in World War Two either, but I do understand suffering, and I understand it well, like Hell on Earth. But how can I not spot the Muslim praying to the East on a roadside as the sun sets, while I walk with my belly full of food without poison, where I too have run to eat in peace from men or beings I once saw as brothers. That false brother(s) tells me to withdraw my talons, and my reply is, "those are not talons, and they are not mine, so watch your tongue before it splits." That is part of my job, you will understand the rest, in due time. I tell you, we get it together or it gets us. I do not give a spit, someone or something else does. Just make sure it does not get in your own God D-mned eyes, and keep it out of mine. I have no time or patience for either of you.
So if anyone else wants to go a round with Dirt Brown, step right on up. I am in the mood for love. (Today's insight is linked on New Orleans Indymedia. Help support New Orleans Indymedia. Atlanta Indymedia is capsized most of the time. We need a voice here. It is the same post in this passage, but it has an extra paragraph, a kicker at the bottom of today's passage on New Orleans Indymedia ).
Theory: What I will call smart atoms, could be rotated in a quad dimensional flux could be moved or cornered into a full dimensional field and manipulations made upon the full dimensional field. By doing thus, a soldier or surgeon could be brought in upon any living being and the living being could be manipulated, poisoned, or injected in a non linear fashion.
Of course, some beings may have multi-dimensional existences, just as neural tissue connects and communicates without ever touching. That is a fact regarding the myelin strung along Central Nervous System fibers. Of course who cares if you are better off dead anyway.
I am still extracting and extrapolating upon this idea and consider it to be altered phase fields in a multidimensional flux spreading out and regrouping within a grid or perimeter in a controlled and extracted fashion. I believe that any one in this field could be combatted by subjected two external points to a charge and then a blast of energy possibly hitting it from several points and directions, possibly even harming those who try to enter through those methods. Most likely their main momentous mass would remain elsewhere.
The human mind when acted upon in the wrong manner causes handedness, single, when in fact it should be double handedness. Most humans are like some crab species, one big claw and one tiny pincer. They are outmaneuvered in the fight. We could have been injected at birth to deaden or strengthen one side of the brain. Some people of the lower caste who are being used in the USA like slaves want death. If we are bridled for ever, I want global war anyway, as they are not worthy of the heavens and we will never achieve heavenly flight in this realm.
I saw Venus tonight from Tiburon. It looks a little different as compared to that third world hell of Mobile. The people are a different color in Tiburon and their government is not beating them in the streets like they do my people in Mobile. Of course I have not tried to enter their government either and doubt I would be invited if I blew the whistle on corruption there also. Of course, I can not leave either place without wanting to leave the nation, the planet, stratosphere.
Prediction: On those moments when the wolf, lupus, carouses through my being, I see and sense and become one with the wolf. It may or may not be the wolf but it devours me and makes me aware like the animal spirits of the universe. Those with Systemic Lupus Erythematosus dreams know what I mean, I suppose. They may be superior to mankind in that they can sense those things we in the flesh can only guess upon. I have a prediction based upon my clawing at the Northern fence, the Canadian border, a desire to leave, a desire that is often expressed one year to the mark. That day of arrival was May 3, 2006. The regime's criminal elements have labeled me a criminal, and falsely so, and the Canadian Border Patrol seemed to relish in turning me back. Perhaps it is divine Karma that I should be forced to fight here another year. I really just want out of the United States or I want to perish. I am being subjugated and starved of freedom for simply contending with those or it that vomits upon us, with lies and statements of hope. We are a bridled species or group, likely better off dead. Of course, I do not fear death as I see it as the merging of one with those other beings, or beasts.
On the date of 11-3-2000 I sensed nuclear bombs or explosions and what would be later attacks upon myself. I had been over dosed on a drug SLE sufferers are often allergic, methylprednisolone, a steroid drug, given to me by a medical facility I will no longer trust, the Veterans Administration, as they were later plaintiffs in a case against me, assisted by criminals associated with the National Treasury Employees Union and their associated mafia at the FDIC. Now I am denied a trial by jury, as a former bank examiner, asleep on federal property in a vehicle with a legally owned gun under my pillow, fearful of the street thugs of the FDIC and NTEU. I took the methylprednisolone drug for pain. On 9-11-2001 the NYC attacks occurred, but we must ask, how many bombs built in the Americas kill our other true brothers overseas, those with oil under their soil.
My prediction is thus: One year in approximate days, minus two months and 8 days, from May 3, 2006, a cataclysmic or earth moving event will occur. There fore, if the count is the same, which it rarely is exact, two lunar cycles short of one solar cycle or year, or approximately 10 months from May 3, 2006, which puts this prediction in March, the Month of Roman war and its celebrities and alleged historical fame. The wolf runs with me. The wolf sees beyond my days, beyond this flesh. We are one. I am haunted by it. I am assisted and moved in the hunt. I am starving to be free from the USA. I would prefer death instead of being among those things and peoples who desecrate our human flesh and spirits, and take away our freedom and safety.
I am older. I want to fight for our grandchildren, but our true adversary is much more elusive than some can imagine. I see him or his brainwashed comrades, or their image or being projected from space at times. He or it scowls and says to us about our downtrodden brothers whose children are wrapped in drugs and alcohol and mayhem in a society gone astray, led by those who wish only to keep us bridled and beaten, "The apple does not fall far from the tree". On that note, I encourage the splinter group in Oakland of African American muslims not to believe they can change their neighborhood by capturing liquor salesman. Train your children and grandchildren and beware of the temptation of their lies and slanderous terms, all racial terms and bigoted terms, all of them.
Cycles of poverty and despair, we the lower caste howl to the heavens, rid us of this tenuous flesh, shed it like a moths skin, and bring us out as one, to combat the lesser designs, so that we can love and be free once again. I will be contacting the border patrol to see if I can clear the lies of the faction of the regime that rips us apart.
Some may say, I am him. I did not write the velvet letter in 2000, November. It just came to me. Later I started following the directives of the higher wolf in the hunt and today I pay the price, for I made a mistake. I trusted the wolves in their pack, those at the Los Angeles VA Westwood and the LA Superior Courts. Now I do not talk and the hunt has taken on new facets. I scratch at the fence and I soon see the remedy when I know I have to leave. They can not contain us completely. There is a time delay and we are all creatures of the divine beings consciousness. Like a vine, it grows and then it dies, and soon it is a transit way for more life.
I once envisioned how the creator collects all that is good and separates it from all that is not good, in the higher sense of equilibrium, the building of living ecosystems and not the destruction there in. After all, that is the goal, isn't it? Too build life that builds and sustains life. I am talking about the divine thought of the creator, the beginning and the essence of that which was sustainable from the start, inexorably hooked to that which isn't. This is many layered and formed concept.
I envision a bent form, like that of a lawnmower blade, its center set at the point of origin and the blade lifted upward at the end points in an easily calculable method. That blade is set in motion and spun, much like a blender, chopping up those galaxies and cells of its being that are not sustainable. Food for thought and fodder for the creators magic.
Which side of the blade are you on? Conscious empathetic thinking beings, or just food for thought and fodder for naught.
On subjects of enlightenment or consciousness I look at the bloodletting in the world around us since time in antiquity per the historical accounts and interpretations I am fed in modern times. Some laugh at the deaths of others and I see no sane kings in the world. Perhaps those that are sane are too busy doing constructive things. Some know we are always being blinded and led astray, since time immemorial. Part of it is in the initial design, "movement from a staid state and then counter opposed movement." Therefore our forever enclosed oven, of us over it, it over us, or I as we all refer to ourselves versus those things beyond our control.
In contemplating the motion of the madness I am led to view things in a different sense on many levels so that I can survive the "truth". What some see are symbols, staid, like the cross, the star of david, buddha, and pictures or emblems such as Allah or Muhammad, etc. In particular interest is the Indian Hindu or Jayne symbol of the red dot on the forehead, that I simply think of as defined as Consciousness. I note many Indians touch it when speaking to me, one also did it when I caught him in a computing error. Which brings up the subject of suspicion of intent and consciousness, as related to the mid-east and the United States and the condition of a thinking being or the image of one and its controller.
(Personal Note: Feel the left Jack) In the USA we are being forcibly abused, silenced, and imprisoned, and our numbers multiply. I want off the planet twenty generations from now or sooner. Under the restraint of the imposing force upon us in the USA, it will not happen. The delusion of that which is thinking or has a heart is shattered when it behaves like a primitive beast instead of an enlightened thinking being who is truly aware of consciousness and has empathy.
I think the USA should look and beware as a evil hand has wrapped around our people. It has a very low empathy if any at all. Forced injections, forced experiments, forced imprisonment, forced felonies, forced exclusion from monitoring "our" society. Of course in this obvious war, we are left wondering, "who is our true ally?".
From now on, if I see a man suffering at the hand of another, I will know that something is amiss. In the USA, we are suffering and I want those veterans with empathy to organize, as a ball club and set up the political party that is modeled around the ideal conscious and thinking being. We should help ourselves in government employment in the manner the discriminatory major league National Treasury Employee Union faction has organized in its dominion, the thirty huge federal agencies it masters. The George Masa crew at the FDIC in San Francisco jettisoned this disabled veteran like a bad squeegee. We are not perfect, but we are not nothing either. We will exert our influence, our small force, one way or another.
The W regime is a very impaled empire that appears to be partially brain damaged as a leader of our nation, and our world. We are like a subjugated people, blinded since WWII if not beyond, to another time or many times. The nature of life is one of resistance and counter resistance. When life begins it is carnivorous upon itself from our view, bacterial, opposing electron forces. In the enlightened form, it uses the energy to build, as that is the eternal distraction of life, in the enlightened form.
Now I look at the reports of the mid-East and my historical knowledge of it. I have known many Jews and a few Iranians and Iraqis, or basically Arabs, both of them the type AB blood type of the area, the confluence of North and South. The Jews and Arabs I know and knew are all basically industrious people, not destroying, but building, therefore acting in consciousness. When I look at Israel, I see a sad scenario. Conflicts on a limited plain are inevitable if populations are starving. Which brings up the point of, "The Promised Land", the opposite of the starving plain.
The promised land is in space colonies. I see the moons of Saturn as what was a mechanical system of transport or bio-creation. By moving all of the planets necessary to achieve the desired equilibrium and material chemical elements, Genesis or life is created, such as bringing the oceans to the sea. One miscalculation though, on such a large scale, could destroy a planet. One's planet could be guided to do so if another element or being wanted to get rid of contenders or what they perceive of as a threat of a lesser being.
Could it be possible to relocate lesser beings to a distant proximity to live their lives as children of a enlightened consciousness? After all, even a crab or octopus has more than one eye and leg. It appears to me, that due to the nature of the moons around Saturn, the planets low density, such as being crushed and allowed to expand, and due to the water in its rings, another life form of great complexity or complexities might have reigned there. Did the war break out there also?
I think Iraq should be left alone. Israel should opens its doors to neighbors and so should the United States. We should look upward at the promised land, as this rotating prison world dirt ball is not it. And if the Jews or Muslims or whoever calls me a Nazi, they should look at their own bloodied hands on their bloodied landscapes and ask, "Was I the one who brought this suffering?" Otherwise, we are better off dead if we have to suffer for generations.
I sometimes see the entire universe as a brain damaged being. I see the damage manifested in the world around me, in our leaders. One leader, a little nobody, a man with a knot on his right forehead, Reggie Copeland, City Council President, Mobile Alabama, has done damage to me by not allowing me into my government meeting in Mobile Alabama. But the federal government allows it and the judges approve of it that sit on their benches, and they are a product of a "Fake Democracy" that is being headed by what I see as lesser and brain damaged beings. (Link to Video Clip on Indy Media of Reggie Copeland, Note how he says that I have hurt him. I said he is like a brain damaged serial killer and has no conscience. Right forebrain damage is no laughing matter in violating the open meetings laws of the USA. Copeland is our Mass'a Jack Snatch of the Week.O)
Since we the true humans of conscience are denied voices in government, I want those fake governments that feign democracy eliminated. I want a Democratic Socialist Party headed and organized by America's and the world's veterans of conscience, humane conscience, and foresight, that allows true benefits for the constructive imagination, by allowing it to speak and blossom. Otherwise, the creator does not find his core in our society. The fake yellow core, or the fake core of compassion, has rotted through, and I personally would not want to live with it, and I seriously doubt it will be tolerated, as in this scheme of things, this universe, this cell of the creators being is as inconsequential as it is consequential to the creators acknowledgment of deeming the right to exist.
I once had a bad dream, and as Aristotle said, "I ate What?" And I relied, "W means what?" And Aristotle said, "Hmmm..."
Song lyrics and insight to life: Seven fields at seven sides and there you will find the attraction in me. Like a cell divided, divided into the sea, there you will find the attraction in thee, attraction in me. I could never be myself because of the seven sides of the severed fields of the attraction in me. Whatever was could never be but there it is again in the seven fields with the seven sides in the attraction in thee. Now you must really ask, why is it so easy to hate the attraction in thee, the attraction in me. Could be you see your own severed fields in the seven seven sides in the seven fields in the attraction thee, the attraction in me.
In the theories of time and mass and creation there is the multiplicative factors in its variants of predictable quantity or ratios at predictable points. For instance, the dreaded annihilation of the species or what some call doom days of Armageddon, does not calculate in, is how many time this occurs.
Have you ever played with a material mass in its rigidity and frigidity to try to get it to perform to a final dissolution, or perhaps the master plays games. Master monkey shit.
In reality, I do not like the term used by some, i.e., "He talks to the dead".
First, because in the sense of the living flesh of this realm or this layer, the dead no not speak, at least in human tongue, flesh, and vocal chord, after all, they are now maggot or bacteria food.. That is not to say that some do communicate with that higher intelligence beyond.
If all is a memory stored in the writings of life itself, then many things are repeated due to the construct that started the etching of the memory in the first place.
The most ironic thing about this futile life from my own sometimes melancholy perspective is that despite the pain I and other see and feel, it often just seems like a horrid nightmare. I know the equation has yet to be solved, but like everything in life, once you get there, it is not you had entirely expected.
For instance, I always have the need to be two places at once, and once I get there, I want to be someplace else. Running from the Hell created by the overlords of insanity in the USA, the greed and the indifference and the solitude and the crumbling face of the vision of my world, the future of the world for my people.
The nightmare will come to an end soon for the most cast out. The United States common man is being attacked by the overlords who came to power. At least some of us are being attacked in many fashions.
Some say they talk to the dead, some say they have sex with the dead. I repeat the argument against the phrase, "Sex with the dead" from above. Death or the disappearance of consciousness opens other windows in the layers.
I took off my good Samaritan hat for those who harm us a few millenia ago Jack N MASSA whistling Sweet Carol..
Having considered the most bizarre mindsets imaginable to my intellect under the current bio-engineering technologies that are afforded to the technologically literate, I have once envisioned creating the mathematical genius or monster, depending on how you view this inevitable modality of increasing the intelligence and intellect of various bloodlines.
I would like to add that I once had a nightmare about bio-engineering. The voice came back, "You better get used to it". I thought about it and it makes sense. Under their changes, they are still human, if superior or lesser to the average human.
Now for the scientific aspects. In the mind of man, or I should say in his genome, which is all of his DNA or his entire genetic makeup, there is a loci for the brains development, however scattered through out the Chromosomal pairs of DNA. In this section, or what I will call the loci for the mathematical part of the brain, the left hemisphere, I see the implementation of other creatures innate mathematical capabilities, including bees who build hives and spiders that design webs and humming birds that calculate wing flaps per second. The list for pieces of the loci of the brain section for the innate mathematical computations used or suspected by the myriad of life that surrounds us.
Now the question becomes, are we complete? Hell No!. The most important part of man, I would say before language or math, if compassion for his fellow being. That part is controlled by the right frontal lobe and outer cortex of man. How you will increase that section is a matter of conjecture. An increase in the size and thickness of the brain and gray matter in the frontal lobes may suffice. However, with mankind tinkering with such complex artifacts of the creator, it could be akin to spilling poisonous gas around the world.
I would prefer that bio-engineering be accelerated in developing machines that are biological but not conscious, such as a machine that runs on bacteria or their products or perhaps through photosynthesis in an accelerated and engineered power grid.
In considering the proximal point of the connection in growth, such as is seen in Meiosis and Mitosis, the illusions of life could hold clues or keys to duplicates or likes or connective points, and some people may use those keys against us. We should kill all politicians in all states that allow forced injections, removing all hospitals if necessary. It is life or death, nothing more or less. No emotions in the final moments of death battles.
Could it be that some people are connected, most likely through families, as part of a larger construct?. Imagine if you will, consciousness of two cells on planet earth radiating to the heavens, like two bubbles, and then consider a mass of them, like tissue. The faces of what you may see will become familiar to some theologians.
Or could it be that delusions through their trickery lead us down false paths. My grandmother who built battleships in WWII in Mobile Alabama would likely have stopped building anything if she knew the local government of today would treat her descendants like they do not have the rights of humans and citizens. I am Kurt Brown, an honest auditor, the Grandson of a woman from the Gulf Coast who inspired toward the future in a land of backward regressives. The war has always been waging, but now, we too can get matches. Divey up, it is time for the search for their bio-engineered marvels and atrocities, around the world, and in their scientific prisons, known as their government buildings. Find them and eliminate them. If we have another WWII, that is OK. Eternal life for this species was never granted.
In following the lead of Galileo Galilei I try to estimate but without the precision. I fear the groups with technological power around the world and especially those vicious beasts who ripped total control of the USA into the hands of men with minds like lower animals. We will have to deal with them on that level, but we had better bring better gadgets. They can spy too easily.
I feel alone in a nation that is besieged by indifference of man toward man, or the appearance of man. I have a disabled veteran plate on my car. They want to disown me. I want to disown them.
Therefore I find solace in the hope that someone will heed my warnings and help us to wrench that thing from our nation and our lives that makes us subservient and delirious. I am beginning to see a blind eye in our government, but it is not blind, only cold and indifferent. We will find that they or it or they that control it, and we will have to attack with complex technologies and hit them in ways they have not anticapapted. It will not be easy. We are outmaneuvered at the start. There is always hope for unbridled global war, or is there? Perhaps we should just pray for the destruction of the regime and assist those who can lead us to universal utopia.
It is called mutual empathy. They talk of it in the United States, but most are just full of the same old lies and deceptions. I feel we would be better off detonating every device known to mankind. The judges of the corrupt courts in Los Angeles and Alabama seem to be of another origin. I think we should help anyone overthrow the inhumane regime, straight from coast to coast. They are not Americans. We have been deceived. You may find more technological manipulation than human flesh. Pray for global war against them, quick and final.
In theoretical pursuit of remembrances of war and survival, I happened. Now the I is ready to go again. In a three pronged approach, never solitary, always mobile, preferably three-pronged. Meet is at the closed government gates of America. They declared a silent War upon us and our constitution. Feel the flesh as clay, as in meat. When I looked at how much a Sheriff in Mobile Alabama makes, over $100,000 and who stole my right to stay alive, my legal permit, for disclosing his $315,000 theft, and the destruction of this honest auditors career and the death of innocent men and for my exposing the murder of a man at the FDIC in San Francisco, labeled suicide, through my own tests and my observation of corruption. Our enemies eat us alive and use people of simple minds in elected office and the naivete of the republic of the generation of the mass media and big government era.
I remember people like Orson Welles talking of things like George Orwell's book, 84. They never mention the outright defeat we suffer here in the present lower caste under primitive minds and hands.
I heard shots fired today, cops or firmen, and I could have sworn someone said, "President Bush was shot".
My first response is that it is not our government. They are abusive like Nazis but they are different. They are here and now. They let men die under horrible conditions, such as being killed in bureuacratic office, such as dead bank examiners.
I heard one of the primitive scowling sort who owned a beach home in Los Angeles say, "One moves another aside". I was in exile, an honest bank examiner forced to live in Los Angeles by corrupt government, in a place I could not afford.
I believe they have ways of deceiving the masses in ways unimaginable. Their lures are many. Who really cares if an imaginary electronic dictator like Bush is shot? The simple who follow the leader at that point, or this. Who cares. None of them care for us.
They take away our guns. I encourage international weapons development and patent research so everyone is armed. That is the way it is. "Push me aside." Push my dead body, One will follow, mothers of Hell.
On theories on the current demise or predicament of the planet Saturn, discovered and named by Galileo Galilei according to modern historical texts. Which brings up a good point--Did Galileo know that the planet Sat-Urn or where the death ashes were placed, was the sight of an interesting phenomena or confrontation? Can some people see through windows of time that others fail to sense? Jack "Snatch", place your snacks in the tray. Saint Ram Bone is very hungry. Anyone else can contact Saint Ram Bone at the email address on the home page of Mobile Audit Club and donate things in barter arrangements by emailing or calling Kurt Brown--Saint Ram Bone.to poor Saint Ram Bone.
On theories of technological warfare, you must remember we have literally entered, "No Man's Land". The reason I say that is because the technology has moved so fast, and to such a great extent behind closed doors, that we now have to make probability based assumptions on just how far the various technological areas have been advanced. For instance, bio-engineered or bio-improved humans are most likely among us and their abilities will far surpass average man.
You must remember though that due to the layers of the brain being primal in the inner core and more advanced on the outer surface, there will always be overlap to some extent. For instance, emotion or reaction to threat is to a large extent controlled by the primal core. Therefore, even though someone may be able to outwit you in any instance, they can not outwit the inner primal core. We will likely see some truly vicious technologies being developed and used by various groups unless new world leaders emerge, who are extremely foresighted and brave in their maneuvers. The lessons of history is that the best stringed instrument players often end up with their chords tied around their throats by the second-best stringed instrument players, and the same things goes for world leaders, the best are often replaced by a vicious second best.
The dual or opposing nature of the primal and the advanced is always mixed and implemented and therefore subject to the same rules or dynamics and complexities of dueling and opposed natures.
It was said in the ancient dialects that in the end of time, or what I would say is the reversing of the phases, that time would go backward. That theory catapults some part of the big bang theory into relevancy and a certain measure of reliability, as when a material of loosely held matter expands, it retracts due to the opposing forces always being at play.
Due to opposing tendencies in complexity to collapse, many of the extracts of that collapsing time may be more like an echo that is in a blast when you meet it, but due to relativity, the same, more or less to this life.
What some say is the end of time, I say, to each his own. It is more of an extraction game than an evolving game, this life of limited resources among a people held back in technology, maybe for a reason, maybe for their own primitive good. Humans look like apes in those little metal cars of low and high value. All the same.
Someone said that Leonardo Da Vinci, the historical inventor of war machines unimagined during his time, would likely cringe in modern times at what they had done with his inventions, and then he would be in shock and paranoia trying to figure what new inventions had been created since that time, undisclosed to the public, and even worse, those designs of the future.
It comes down to a basic idiom: We can create or we can destroy, to a certain point in either direction. Some beings are left out, some beings may not understand the nature of the mercurial nature of existence in the greater form. That reminds me of life on this planet. So much energy expended to control the masses, so much barren ground, with islands of wealth for beings like boars. I never did like the taste of burned pork. Except when I was starving.
To this day, I look out my window at the empty real estate, of tomorrow, that in the sky, bio-engineered islands of life, except that is not it. I see Leonardo Da Vinci's weapons and Einstein's insights used for no good, to propel a few to those islands of wealth at a greater cost and loss in the surrounding barren land.
The equation does not fit with the greater design. You can rest assured of that. The criminals of government now make the innocent look like criminals. I was beaten from my government in Mobile Alabama. Now when I do a search on my name, it comes up as a potential criminal---meaning if you buy my criminal record, it will show. But it lies. I did nothing other than what every citizen does--try to be a part of government. They are not our allies. We are not protected.
If you find the porker, torch it, passing around the burnt fringes, and give me some in a scalp hair bag, for my pet.
In considering the nature of natural elements and the ability to transpose that which is one into the other, I once considered a sheet of metal, shining on its surface and reflective in many degrees of that greater surface, with each corner held by the post, a post controlled by intelligence, whose twisting motions transposed not only those elements in the sheet of metal, but in the cosmos to which it directed and relected its energies. The inner mechanics controlled at a remote point.