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Quatrains 5-- SENTINEL VALUES AND VECHTER SIGHTS 5

 

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 9-9-2007:AMES_amie_MANN_braman_METEORITE_kelly_EUREKA_marland

On those odd coincidences in life, the ripple in the tissue of the chin of the creator.  A young woman named Kelly who I met in Monroeville Alabama (map link) around the time of 1975 when I was passing through for a brief time told me she was going to die the next weekend. Kelly was adept at astrology and astronomy and had drawn out the movement of several celestial bodies and they formed a sort of triangle and they moved in certain motions which gave her the indications. Like a timekeeper and navigator, I kept the address on many levels, in those red letter days in particular. Now, a Timekeeper's Collection, a music video by Anggun, a sort of trailer for my hopeful movie Braman, true and always in progress. The trailer is at the bottom of this segment.

We  being around 15 years old, I, Kurt Brown, now alias Saint Ram Bone or Saint Vechter or Osso Ramdella Sandel, took it as a passing thing a teenage girl fantasized about.   I asked her  when I would die and after a brief pause, she said at age 44.  Kelly died that weekend in a vehicle accident, the truck she was in flipped and several teenagers died.  She had called me that Saturday morning to come with her to a party that night.  I was not home at the time and my relatives did not tell me she had called.  I was off at a friends house listening to Deep Purple or Ozzie, if he was around, or some other nonsense and myself and that friend poked around in a grave yard that day, as he showed me where the ground was collapsing around the graves in the cemetery.  Erosion due to loose soil.  His mother made him move after the incident and she gave me some strange looks and a slight smile.

Monroeville's only real claim to fame was the story by Harper Lee and Truman Capote, was "To Kill A Mockingbird". My fathers family knew and may have been related to Harper Lee, the author, through the Dean family, and it is ironic that my father wept when he accidently killed his pet Blue Jay with a board he threw on top of it while doing some carpentry work on a shed when he was a boy. 

At age 44, around midnight December 7, 2004,  I was driving past Braman Oklahoma and a meteorite or falling space debris almost hit my truck when I passed by as I headed north toward Wichita and eventually California. I had just gotten off of probation for sleeping in my truck with a loaded firearm in Los Angeles. It was three long years of exile and probation. They did not care that I had almost been killed after working at the FDIC as a bank examiner and they did not care that a regional director for the FDIC in San Francisco had been murdered and labeled suicide and replaced by what appeared to me to be a mob boss. Why? Technology and collusion. I later discovered that a meteorite had hit Ames Oklahoma 450 million to 600 million years earlier and Ames was in a direct line to Eureka Kansas where I was almost hit  in between just North of Braman. However before making it to Eureka Kansas, one has to reach Climax Kansas which is a straight sine jaunt off of Eureka and Braman.

A woman who looks very much like Kelly was the woman Amie Mann from the musical group named Till Tuesday.   I loved her song titled, "Voices Carry" (video link on youtube) and to see her was like looking at Kelly.

So I went to Oklahoma in 2007 to see some property in Marland Oklahoma near Braman and to see what I could find in relation to the strange events.  It was a large old school building and I was going to turn it into a video production studio.   I went to see the realtor Ralph Meade.  I left Marland and went to Eureka Kansas, and a large prison was there so I left.  I hate prisons.  It is a contrivance of beasts.  So I came back to Oklahoma and went to Ames Oklahoma, a non consequential place, but a place where oil was found and where the meteorite had hit many centuries before the one that almost hit me in nearby Braman, if that indeed was a meteorite, which I think it was.  A sort of gift from the creator saying Happy Birthday, you missed out again, you can not die yet.

Now here is the strange thing about all of this.  I was almost hit in Braman Oklahoma.  A meteorite had hit in Ames 450 million to 600 million years before.   Kelly had predicted my death to the exact date of the first day of my age 44 when I was almost hit by the meteorite and drove through its dust when it exploded in a huge fireball.    And the realtor who I met, was missing two fingers in the middle of his hand, left or right I do not recall.  I can not recall for sure if he told me how he lost his fingers but it looks like someone made him have a Texas longhorns hand sign, and I would wager that it was deliberate cruelty toward him and unwarranted, and likely involved a land dispute with a Texan or a pretender who claimed to be a Texan.   

So now Amie Mann of the group Till Tuesday  who looks like Kelly is associated with myself, Kurt Brown -- Saint Ram Bone, aka Saint Vechter because she looks like Kelly. Vechter is Yiddish for Watchman, and we watchmen are not demons as some described us winged beings in the book of Enoch (pic link). Yes I appear to have small wings on my spine under X-ray per a VA examination. My associating Amie Mann with looking like Kelly as I recall her is no small coincedence.    Ames, Braman, Amie Mann, Kelly (I do not recall Kelly's last name and I have tried desperately to find it) and my name is Kurt, and the realtor missing the fingers, Meade, and the school house in Marland and let us not forget the dead Regional FDIC director who was likely murdered and labeled suicide. Technology and collusion is how they or IT got away with the murder and that is likely how much has been stolen from us. 

So how does Amie Mann fit into this?  I would like to meet her.  I would like for her or her associates to hold my camera and have her hold my arm when I attempt to enter the Mobile Alabama City Council meeting as they have forbidden me to do (video). I have not been allowed in since I reported the attempt on my life in February of 2001 at the meeting. Neither the FBI, the Justice Department, nor the Secret Service would respond to calls for help, but my convict number for gun ownership, legal gun ownership, has 911 as the center digits and I was released from jail and torture, including forced injections and medical procedures, on 8-12-2001. We all saw the effects of 9-11-2001. Do you believe what they say on mass media?  If I am killed, I want one of Rosa Parks (youtube video link) relatives to drive a bus load of our families to my being buried.  I want to be buried in the soil with no preservatives and no marker, but away from civilization, perhaps across from the schoolhouse in Marland, as there is a pond there or perhaps in the area of a big building in Schidler OK that also has a bank safe inside, or perhaps somewhere in Alabama where my father is buried.   I like the building in Shidler because in my imagination I imagine Braman living there in a kind of haunted house and it is already furnished.  Need a haircut, nails trimmed, grits, rent a room, bunk up with Braman and bring a friend if you choose, after all he is a former Pacific Fleet sailor, or perhaps you would like to deposit some funds in my bank safe, insured by Braman, not F-DIC?  Braman's got it all in Shidler on the Indian Reservation at his boutique and restaurant and country antique store and bank. Unfortunately the only person there is Braman and maybe an old Indian who hangs around out front keeping Braman company. 

I thought about buying it and making a movie about Braman there in Schidler, as a man named Braman who is of the foreign place, somewhere near Andromeda or Angulatum galaxies, which were at a 45-degree angle to the horizon and to my West on the night I was almost hit by the meteorite. Braman is like those old vets who smoked cigarettes, saluted you with a beer, and did not mind taking their bra or underwear off and showing it to you, "Feel that one cowboy" I imagine him saying, much like my grandfather Bill Wright of Tuscaloosa Alabama who married my grandmother. Bill(William)was hit by a car on his bike as a child so long ago in Tuscaloosa, and had a metal plate in his head as a result, and he only had a few long teeth left for the entire time I knew him, like tusks. Bill did not mind missing his fleet's departure while in the Navy, which he retired from as an E-4 after over twenty years.  "Ah Ha!" he would say and smack his tusks and salute the departing ship with his beer can in one hand and his new lost love in the other, AWOL again and who really gives a ship, not Mr. Wright, nor Braman.

Life has got to improve for us.  Our plight is too hard and the regime has closed the door on my foot.  It is ironic too that Rosa Parks looks like my Peruvian girlfriend who I cherished.  Perhaps tomorrow another story about my Brazilian girlfriend, and a woman who was and Engineer from India in San Jose with whom I only touched her bed, and lest not forget about my one time Chinese hopeful, Fan, a fellow accountant who told me about Falun Gong and their torture in China which is like what I and others have endured in the USA, and for much the same reason, honesty and openness. (see the Continuing Problems section).

It is ironic too that  I was stationed on the USS Reid FFG-30 in the early 80's.  No war time, just the Los Angeles Olympics and a relaxed fear of terrorism on the Terminal Island Naval Base, not like now.    Reid when read backwards is Dier.  No one died except some shipmates who had a vehicle accident on the North abuttment of the Vincent Thomas Bridge, 4 of them at one time, if I recall.  Now decommissioned and sold to the Turkish and renamed Gelibolu, or U Lob I Leg or Geli-Bolus,meaning floating feces.  The Terminal Island Naval base is closed just as my street of recollection as a child in the ghetto of Prichard Alabama, Sipsey Street seems to be gone, like an ancient city.  I can not seem  to die.  Our spirit lives on anyway.  Braman you are up, don't forget your safe! I wish Kelly was.

It was said in the book by Harper Lee that it was a sin to kill a mockingbird. Perhaps it is not a sin to kill a Blue Jay. Here is a video and song about the Whippoorwill and the Blue Jay that I wrote to pinpoint, on my mothers deathbed request, a Sheriff who stole food from my caged relatives mouth in his jail in Mobile and who was young, misled, and poisoned by this society, just like I was. Whip Or Will Pea You Jack on Youtube.

I remember walking through my grandmother's garden with her at her home on Higgins Road in Tillman's Corner Alabama, which is now a vacant one or two acre lot. She said, "Things are never as bad as they seem". She also said I would be important someday, as if that matters now. Also to cast aside any claims of my anti-semitism, I have had many Jewish friends and almost married a Jewish woman. I do not like Israel taking any more land though and I can not understand why people fight as they do. The promised land is marked on the celestial grid in varying depths of space for everyone. That same grandmother who was married several times had a hard life in Mobile but she stayed strong and had children by each of the husbands in her fertile years. She told me she knew a Jew, and she looked in my eyes and said, "He was a cobbler", or that could be defined, "He was a co-blur". Either way, my true grandfather's mother on my maternal side of the family was adopted and lived in a tar shack most of her life in Florida. My uncle jokingly said she chewed her baby's food and fed it to them. Life is strange isn't it? I had a dream or recall that same uncle saying we were a different species and someone else said we had special gifts. Someone in the family mumbled in my sleep or my waking, "I think it is a curse". Uncle Holy-S can roll and tumble too and run barefoot across thistle grass like an Indian running from shreds of formica thrown in the air, or chase Alabama blue dragonflies with ease on hardened feet. ;) That is an inside family joke from down on the bayou, Rattlesnake Bayou. Two of those uncles were like my brothers, and we are close in age, and they were from different fathers and they fought like men as children, and fought like children as adults, but the blood love bond is always strong. So you had better not get caught messing with grandma's chickens or children. That is not a good thing. We are merciful in more ways than one.

The district court of Judge Michael McMaken in Mobile Alabama has lied in my case in the Freedom of the Press and Open Meetings Law that is in dispute in the United States closed door government and the federal regime in power backs him and terrorizes my family to make me desist. It could come to blood and I welcome it since they drew first blood. Some of them obviously do not bleed for us in their heart. The court in Los Angeles had a needle sticking in my arm with absurb bails to force signatures and silence about the FDIC and to stop my investigations of the federal banking regulatory agency, the FDIC corrupted by collusion. Judge Michale McMaken hails from Lawton Oklahoma and Lawton is in a direct line to Ames and Braman and I have a riddle to be solved at the bottom of this segment. The courts are not great levelers any longer, they have been corrupted by the IT factor of the regime, most likely through collusion and technology. I breathe fire in words on our great betrayer and sometimes there is no retribution, but sometimes, "Every dog does have his day".

I warn all to beware of collusion and technology when dealing with the regime. The government is hostile to us in their buildings and I believe the collusion and technology coupled with it has left us robbed. Even in Mobile Bay the regime sold Natural Gas rights to Mobil oil and Exxon and Shell oil has a pipeline on shore from the bay, with trucks always coming and going with oil and locals have snapped the line many times. They claimed there was no oil, and I, or I should say, we do not believe them, or IT, as I have seen what appeared to be several oil tankers leaving past nearby Dauphin Island and Alabama Port smells like and looks like a Texas refinery entrance. Some days, the odor of fuel there seems explosive in the air. I spit blood after going to McMaken's court, not before or since and I did no drugs. The federal regime has used one thing after another to silence me. I urge you to take your cameras to the courts and government meetings with an Independent Media Badge, or get as close as you can. Remember, things are not always what they seem and can be extremely dangerous. And I remember a biblical statement and to paraphrase, "Beware of the one with the little horn".

Anggun video, release in 2005 Etre Una Femme, a Bizarre Braman Tribute released in 2004 Decemeber, Meteorite shower indicator on Watchman. and you will see my painting linked during that time linked here on Indymedia-Five Fingers Humane Conscience Nightmare pic link. Can you predict your death date, it might be a sweet surprise, Predicting Sweet Carol Day, LA Indymedia link to mp3 comedy death track.

A vision in a dream came to me in a night writing this segment, a woman said about Bill who had missed his USN boat the morning of a battle in WWII, and she held my hand as her arms made a cross on one of his, "Do not join them when they start to fight".

I urge you to put in your mouthpieces.  Draw a deep breath of air.  And decode this riddle, Braman Ames Lawton, and decipher McMaken Mobile. Therefore on the surface it is MMM LAB, or 3M LAB. But what is the significance of the trianlge from Lawton to Braman or Braman to Ames and the connector in Mobile? My triangle reaches from Mobile to Los Angeles to San Francisco, with the center point decided as Braman on the meteorite explosion or Ames Oklahoma's explosion a millenia ago or perhaps to Lawton where the abusive Judge in Alabama allegedly hails from according to documents on the web. Judge Michael McMaken in Mobile, Alabama, a contemptible liar put in power by the enemy regime in power. I call him Michael "Machine Head" McMaken. Does 3M play into this on this level. It may have many triangles through this point for us to decipher. It pays to keep moving some times, for obvious reasons, inexplicable in words.  McMaken is cruel and savage to our people just like the courts in Los Angeles.  I have witnessed and endured his trial room, or IT's trial room in both Mobile and Los Angeles.  I look to Braman and I say and ask, "Hit the switch" or is that "Switch Hit"? "Mercy" or is it "Grace?". A bend in my elbow and on with the show. I want Anggun to sleep with me and Brazil.

It should also be noted in this riddle that I mapped out in the straight line from Ames and Braman, not only Lawton Oklahoma, but in the other direction, Climax Kansas and Eureka Kansas.  Therefore the letters LABEC come out.  McMaken's crew is the anti C.E., they are the builders of our prison.  Therefore we can have 3M CABLE, or 3M C ABLE, or you decipher this extended version of the shorthand B and A, Braman and Ames. On a lighthearted note, I see Braman able to apply balmmm to his nipples to make them erect while engaged in combat with the enemy regime in power. Application to the teeth and balls of Saint Ram Bone has been completed with amazing results. BALMMM.  We must realize that the communication we put out may go beyond what we know.  Let us hope we benefit.  I would rather have been born stillborn in this life in the USA.  It is the principle of survival if suffering exceeds the beneficial life force of happiness, it is better to bring about a global war even if it means the extinguishment of your species.  America's humans are being torn apart.  Who rode with whom?  Kurt or C ABLE? It does not matter if your enemy is behind the mask, it could have been a likely victim of the regime's tampering with service men in experiments, such as the serial killer who I evaded two weeks before his capture. Every thing is Randy with Kraft you sons of bitches, drink up, swallow hard, and howl at the moon on a stump from your anus to your hat. I am not your lesser. WE will have a war, that is the message of five points. I hear someone knocking from point A to B.

Late Addition: True Travels: Regarding the ongoing Quatrains 5 Trilogy, Braman Ames Aimee Mann segment, I have completed the second triangle in my travels and I have entered back in upon one of two scenarios. Ann Arbor in Michigan, Missoula in Montana, Springfield in Missouri. Therefore if I take the first letters from the names of the cities, they are MASA. A man named Masa was in power in the FDIC money laundering syndicates and he and his cohorts in the federal war crimes syndicates have had me subjected to tortures and exclusion from the governmental financial regulatory sector and they have in their war criminal method barred my participation in government.

If I take the first earlier triangle, Mobile Alabama San Francisco CA and Los Angeles CA, I come up with FSLAM. I worked at the FDIC. It is time to f-slam the FDIC and the regime for their robbing and torturing and exclusion of Americans and the abuse of the people of ISLAM. We too have endured torture at their hands and likely terrible caste setting methods through technology. There are ways to lessen a child's ability. Mankind, our kind, was robbed and we are to this day.

I was forcibly injected and that was the worst. The regime did other things to me. I am sure of it. I was injected once and did not remember being unconscious. That was at the LA VA 2001. More was done to me though. Including X rays of the brain. I was knocked unconscious with injections in 2004 with the approval of the regime in power. Our most hated and dreaded enemy around the world and into space.

They or IT is making preparations for the coming elections to create a war upon us. Let us hope for a global washing away of the international regime. If we should have global war or complete death, it was meant to be for some reason we can not comprehend.

Late addition: It is also ironic that on the night of the meteorite explosion in December of 2004 just North of  Braman, some time after 11:30 p.m. Central Standard Time on the seventh, that both the Angulatum Galaxies and the Andromeda galaxies were visible to me and at roughly 45-degree angles above my horizon in Braman.  Therefore, that triangle for the three galaxies has the letters, A for Andomeda, A for Angulatum. The BAA was confusing to me for a while, until I realized on that night I saw the Light. Therefore BA'AL as trainer or the mask of the creator to acquaint me with BA'AL ZEBUB perhaps. I was acquainted with flying things that night. Did I transfer out? Swap and flip, for a specter and spectacle of BA'AL perhaps?.

Also, on a less sinister plane, Ba'al I have discovered does not have to mean a bad thing.  I saw the light at BAA, but if I saw the light, I saw what some once considered Ba'al.  The Levant was an area where the old name of Ba'al, meaning master or lord traveled.  It is in Northwest Turkey and the Levant is known for its ability to grow crops.  Did the word Levite derive from Levant?  Are some of us from the left hand, right mind, descendants of some greater meaning who frequented or were accepted in the Levant.  It looks like Utah.  I think I will travel to the modern area of the Levant, meaning Syria and Jordan.

Next is the larger traingle. MW for Milky Way, therefore the letters are, Milky Way, Andromeda, Angulatum == MAAW.  My mother had died several months earlier that year, 2004. She had taught me as much as my father had about surviving the inhumane killers surrounding me. Her lessons came later in life, aft he was dead.

Late Addition: Daily Foreword October 30, 2007: Recently on the night of the last full moon, I, Kurt Brown, alias Saint Ram Bone, picked up a hitchhiker outside of Denver Colorado going East. We drove East past the road to Wichita Kansas and Braman Oklahoma. He claimed to be Jewish. He claimed to be from Long Island New York. He ate from garbage cans. Mr. Bush and regime, you have hearts like American casinos slot machine owners, empty of feeling, full of shit. I dropped the high roller off in front of the Isle of Capri Casino in Kansas City, Kansas or Missouri, I am not sure which. They helped to create the homeless. They can feed him, but they likely called the cops. I would not take him further. Our roads split. I was at the spring trap, the sping door, Springfield, the final sacrificial and ceremonial humping point of MASA. Stay tuned for Next weeks, Jack Rabbit.

Late addition November 10, 2007: Another triangle drawn and driven, this time, three shots fired at the end and a young man is missing, a Senators son or Gradson in Alabama. We are at the completion of the third terrestial triangle.

Not any Johnny Cum lately star struggle will exact a more divine conscience than to have ones own head torn out by the roots.   I mention this because in our Jank tour through life, we see things, like Randy Kraft serial killer 1983 who I passed by in my travels, and then there were three shots outside of a convenience store this past Monday night, late, towards midnight, November 5, 2007, at the intersection of Interstate 20 and and county highway 77 in Alabama, near Talladega.  A Senators grandson came up missing about that time.  I was looking for real estate, having made the tour from Mobile AL to Bath Springs TN to Talladega AL in one day, and to be welcomed by three or four gun shots.   I was going into the door of the filling station nearest the highway when the shots rang out and did not get involved, as  the cashier heard the shots also.  I thought it was fireworks maybe but the vehicle was speeding by afterward and I could not tell if it came from the adjoining lot or a lot across the street.

In my usual fashion, I do not always make my final plans when I travel a triangle, only knowing one destination for sure. I go where ever. On that night I was going to pull in across the street from the gas station on the South side of the building, which looks now like a hotel's parking garage or a building there. There was a guy standing there and a few cars, with one of the cars doors opened, and it looked like something I did not want to deal with since it was in the dark and wreaked of danger, so I turned back to the light in the gas station and parked to fill up, and as I was going inside, the shots were heard. I am sure it was in the dark where the shots originated.  Therefore, the area I traveled that day is a triangle as the city's initials are thus to that point, M, BS, T.  You can likely find the young man on the MT. or mountain.  He has likely BS Been Shot. Also, you will likely find him next to a field. How I arrived at that conclusuion is the alleged name of the homeless alleged Jew who I picked up as a hitchhiker on the triangle before, which was on the most previous full moon, the MASA triangle, delineated on Quatrains 5 Braman Ames Aimee Mann section. The alleged name of the alleged Long Island New York Jew, was Co-Field, Ben was the alleged first name, the same first name as the missing grandson of the Alabama Senator. This is beside the point but this guy in the trench coat in this video on Youtube looks like the rider calling himself Ben Cofield, except Ben Cofield had a beard and was more emaciated.   The car that fled after the shots rang out in Talladega, proceeded Eastward on I-20, toward Georgia.   I stayed the night, saw my prospective property in Talladega that morning, and proceeded toward Florala, AL where my grandmothers share cropper family once migrated. I hate what has become of Alabama, we are strangled by the enemy from the outside and the inside and many of the people, as everywhere, seem to have oxygen deprivation mental retardation, which makes me wonder if they were tampered with during gestation or something else is involved, or maybe it is just monkey business.   The Senator who's grandson is missing would likely not allow me into his government if he was in Mobile either, or would he? I doubt it.  Regardless, our world is a cesspool and a garden, so get used to the fruits of your own shit.

We might find that the entire ordeal with mass media and their government and fake elections and their drama is just M, BS, T, of the other variety, which is Mark Twain Bull Shit. What I truly see is Monkey Technology Bull Shit. My vehicle overheated yesterday as I was in front of my native city's closed door government. Some of the relics of the future walked by, two attorneys who appeared like fake Ken barbies, their hair perfect, their suits slightly wrinkled, leaving the government building that is closed to myself, the building that is in a theatre site where I used to watch movies with local police as children. I wanted to run over the Prima Donne attornies or their emulations, but what if technology brought me those two. I was in front of their damned government building. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead.

This is a fictitious Scene with a truly overheated Truck after the M, BS, T triangle: Brick building with pick up truck rammed into brick wall with two pencil neck favored sons or the it factor's attorney's pinned in as blood mud pies against the building that is part of the closed government complex of the international oil and timber thieves dictatorship.

Saint Ram Bone to Cop: "The truck over-het" "The brakes got wet" "And mmmm MMMMM Bam"

Braman: "Yep, that was when my nipple got whelp". "See"

Scene Braman, who resemembles those old salts from long ago, like Tuscaloosa Bill, and Braman reveals his prize breast and its "Whelp" and it coats it with BALMMM and bears his tusk like teeth that remain.

Braman points to breast and rubs it with BALMMM

Braman: "Whelp".

Kurt Saint Ram Bone to TV Crew In Real Life (never hearing our story on air): "My respects to the Senator in Alabama on our last travel triangle destination, M, BS, T, who may or may not be on my side, whose may or may not be alive in the human heart as I." "I hope if your son was a humane human, he is especially alive forever more my sweet Lenore". "Harp sayeth Brenda With Her Spoon" (music video).

Late Addition December 7, 2007:

To add to my foray of triangles driven, I drove the PMS triangle, Prichard Alabama a slum near Mobile, and Mobile Alabama, and Semmes Alabama.  During that triangle a natural gas line explosion occurred in Semmes. Was someone trying to kill auditor and reporter Saint Ram Bone? I smelled it before it exploded on the roadside, those poor guys left the store driving into it with their slurpies and chips.  A watermain had broken the day before in Prichard.  On my next outing I came across a truck moving weapons ordinance on Interstate 10 through Mobile with U-hauls being pulled over in case they were to be used as trigger weapons to detonate the device.    Of course, it could have been nuclear waste.  The MOAB bomb in Pensacola Florida a few years ago was no joke.  I have been told it had nuclear waste also by locals to the North of explosion.  Perhaps it was an underground explosion or an accident in a military weapons transport line or vehicle of some sort.  We all know we do not trust  the new Czar of weaponry in these damned United States. We do not trust the hidden Czars.   

Now another triangle earlier this year took me from Mobile, Alabama to Vancouver, B.C.  to Kingston in Ontario Canada.  During that triangle I was attacked twice in Vancouver and once on the Eastern side of the Rockies leaving Vancouver.  My vehicle was attacked in Vancouver.  I was attacked and my vehicle likely tampered with which caused failure on the Eastern side of the Rockies.  I literally dodged the bullet, somehow.  A young man in a car in good condition pulled up and asked if I needed a help on the desolate road. I could not see in the shadows. I turned away. He was aiming for my eye with a pellet pistol or pellet rifle and it cracked my windshield while I was going to fix a flat and a small sliver of glass shatter shot into my eye when he fired and when he drove off, I am not sure but he shot my pants from behind.  I was in the wilderness on the Interstate.  As I said they asked if I needed assistance, I said no and turned my head, not wanting to chat or get shot in the face. I should have turned away from the USA government many years ago and looked inward, not outward, at the triangle within.  

I had passed through customs in Vancouver who  alerted the USA who likely contacted the regime's money laundering syndicates on the North side of the border in the NTEU and Treasury and FDIC links and they arranged to have me attacked.  90% probability.  10% probability that most Canadians do not like Americans.   I have since that time removed all government issued emblems with the American symbols on them. 

The triangle is thus M, V, K.  I translate the meaning as Martin King 5 conscious, meaning the five colors of the hand, and the five tongues of half of one spirit.  My vehicle was attacked by three men of whiter complexion on the first attempt although I only saw two up close, and on the second occasion there were two men of darker complexion who tampered with my vehicle, and on the third occasion, it was a white male who was the assailant with an "apparent" female in the vehicle, although another man pulled up a later in a vehicle, also of lighter complexion but much older and had a good laugh. They taunt us and tell us we do not know who we are messing with. Never give up in a battle with an inhumane tyrant, never even in the bloody end, as you can carry the battle to the darkside and bring it back in on his or it's living corpse. I would prefer to take vacations and build, but they have it their way, Jingle Bell Rock and Meat Ball Fling. Technology or ape? That is the question. Predator, always. 

Therefore the sum of the triangles is thus 5 major and 2 minor, the majors are MAAW, FSLAM, MVK, MASA, MBST which was likely bloody for someone I did not see. The MAAW is more of a wish or a dream or recall, as it is the galaxies Milky Way, Andromeda, Angulatum. The AA were in view from my angle in Braman in 2004 when a meteorite exploded. Some people never look for clues and signs and their lives are devoid of meaning and hope. We are like Helen Keller, deaf and blind, and that is all she wrote if you don't carry on. If I discount MAAW on the terrestial bid I have made, I have 4 major, one minor superior and one minor inferior. Yes, the devil is a hard one to play, unless you know IT's dance steps.

Now, to leave it is as it was with my heavenly MAAW travel wish since Braman was in conjunction of the night of the junction of the Meteorite and myself near Braman. The two minor triangles with one superior interior minor 3M C ABLE, and one inferior interior minor PMS. The attempts on my vehicle were five proximate men, two distant men, one distant woman(?), or is it that perhaps when we delineate the inverse, we find the two who want to tamper with me, the Saint, Saint Ram Bone, alias Kurt Brown. I want to pick a bone with the international crimes syndicates in the two North American governments and their syndicated factions, and their meathead, likely off the hook with the seven crowns and their mass of flesh. I think we should rally up internationally and dissuade this Truk (truck) route from disaster. The regime is totally devoid of helping us in the end, which is likely near about now. They need our help, those of divine satisfaction, but they push us away, and will forever more. So perhaps their deaths should be something to celebrate, a no cause no celebre' event, unless they are moving in our direction, the one of the positive energy force of the universe, and then it is as fiasco and let's go always with one caveat, "It never ends" if it is worth the time of thought by the humane.

In some ways, other than truth through discovery, I truly regret having worked at the federal agency the FDIC and discovering money laundering and covered up murder.  A priori knowledge did not warn me, but another veteran did tell me not to work for the federal government.  We are always in a tug of war in the greater triangles, for better or worse.  I would rather leave with select attendees in hand.  But I fear the regime will sell us space travel and chew us up in blades out in space. I want my $9.11 million so I can start working toward my space transport mechanism. The regime owes, but they kill for the thrill anyway. My device will likely look like a stone, a black shiney one with nice deep inlay gold colored engraving but of another mechanism, not gold, as all that glitters is not gold.

Segment 9-8-2007:TORTURE_dog_TORTURE_god_TORTURE_man

Segment 9-8-2007: Like the outer core of the human brain is that which reflects the ultimate in divine knowledge for that being, I also believe the outer core of the creators essence is best reflected.   Things and events are foretold and seen and reflected not only for any man or animal at this outer point, but also for the divine and top being in the manifested form.  It is not too much for a mere mortal man to sometimes experience that outer core of the divine beings essence or to envision in the purest form, albeit briefly.  Some may say it is deja vu, some may call it a mystical experience.

I at one time recalled or dreamt of a place that is so foreign and alien to our current lives in this era that it seemed surreal.  It is now common scientific knowledge that the outer core of our current space where we see our earth and outward beyond all of the stars is what appears to be a wall of sorts where the nature of nature changes, where the laws of physics may even seem to change.  I believe time is infinite in this shell.  We, and our mass and that of the stars circulate within.  But at one time, on  the outer wall or just beyond was a huge central colony or planet like mass.  And in its perimeter of its gravitational pull are many other planets.  I see Saturn as having mimicked this idea, with the huge planet once containing water on its surface and its largest moon, Titan, containing methane, a very convenient power source for travel, a sort of filling station for rudimentary propulsion and temperature control.

But I do not think we or I will ever get to that point as mankind as I see it, is too primitive and uncivilized to itself and everything around it..  How will it ever deal with some of the other life forms in direct contact when they do not resemble man but are in fact far superior in all aspects except one, simple beauty.  Just as we see a mockingbird hopping around and singing, it is more beautiful than an old man who resembles a wild razorback hog, such as that fake governor, Schwarzenegger.

Videos are linked in this paragraph to Youtube.  Torture in Afghanistan of children.   Torture recollections in Abu Gharib.   And here is the plain vanilla propaganda that CNN officialdoms of the government want us to see, non-torture.  And this is the way the USA government regime in power and their men or technological manifestations of men treated me, like a dog.  It is just a dog, but I know the feeling and would have either killed the suffering dog with a bullet to the back of the head or given it assistance.  Do not torture us, do not torture me.  I hope God is watching over his dog(s).   I was a disabled veteran who went to work for the FDIC.  I had physical problems on one assignment that was way beyond the true nature of the job and it was in training, and they gave it the name, the Xanadu Project at the FDIC's Seidman training center near Washington D.C.  My Supervisor at the Sacramento FDIC office in Roseville said he was going to recommend me for termination. What they did not expect is that I would stand back up.  Now, I await global crushing like the most honest and obedient beings likely did while on Saturn in their suffering. 

I see technology coupled with collusion.  I see a dead regional FDIC director in his office as the inhumane step over his corpse to promote themselves. Now I see war.

Segment 9-6-2007: ENOCH_syria_IRAQ_lebanon_ISRAEL_ENOCH

Enoch was one of the ancients of biblical lore.  His books were removed from the bible for likely unknown and various reasons.  Sometimes the seed will hide itself among the roots so as to disguise itself and for protection until it is strong enough to withstand battering, and it is also in position to assume the role of leadership to light in the event of destruction of the original being.

It is in Enoch's alleged writings that much of science we see today was already known, although the literature is like that of a primitive man not understanding what he sees, e.g. nuclear war, space craft, genetically engineering beings, and implicit it in it is the breaking off of some groups in war who return with the ultimate knowledge of survival.  Which brings up a good point -- be careful who you bow down to, IT may not be a god, but instead a beast of war, a slave creator and master of slaves.

We must always be aware of ignorance and deceptions and we must leave our minds open to discover the truth.  For instance, in this link there is a series of letters or numeral-letters that someone has ascribed words to.  I could just as easily say it is a sort of advanced periodic table of the elements or a genetic sequence as to heretofore unknown and simply referred to as quarks or an explanation of spin and penetration of neutrinos.  However it is not my field of study, so if I choose to base my life on it, I should learn it from that teacher's perspective but keep an open mind.

There is often talk of men living to be over three hundred years in the book of Enoch.  Unless they were a different species of man today, it appears that either one of three things has happened.  First, considering they often speak of space travel and due to the fact that all is relative, could these men have moved in space to return at a much later date to live their lives?  Second, could these men have measured their years differently based on seasons, such as one who claims he is 320 years is in fact 80 years times four seasons?  Third, could the author have lied?  What of a man who claims to have lived 900 years?  That is absurd by our measurements on the time continuum of our lives here on Earth.  That would only leave three options, space travel, another species of man, or lies.  Perhaps there are more options, you think about that one.

If a man comes to you and tells you he is holy, he has done nothing but expelled hot air.  If a man passes in front of you doing holy things, and I mean humane things that required his efforts and judgment  he has consumed both hot and cold air and exemplified himself above the elements and mute beasts.   We all live with regrets if we are human.  We outlive those regrets by doing amends of a greater sect and sanctity.  That shows progress, as things are put in disequilibrium and we are to put them back in the higher fold, the outer growth.

I watch today the calamity in the mid-East and the USA.  The president of the United States, a dictator of swords, clashes with the people of the descendants of the original holy shrine.  I watch as the New Israel defaces Palestine.  I disagreed with my own on that matter, with one telling me I did not understand.  Perhaps they do not hear the calls of pain and sorrow of the dieing, or perhaps they do not savor life and love, or perhaps in some sense they want revenge having felt a loss I do not remember enduring, and perhaps they do. I am not sure.  I sometimes feel as if I am in a living Hell.  But I was told things are never as bad as they seem, so I pick up a musical instrument and play it to make the words while I close my own vocal trap.  It frees  me for a moment to that other place, that placement of anti-matter, anti-derision, anti-climactic bliss, in its own vibrating tone,  tongue, and frequencies.

I will return to Enoch's materials later.  I was impressed by the scientific knowledge and wanted to pull out understanding and I urge you to do the same with those things you read, hear, and see and feel and sense.

I feel the creator sorts his order in odd ways. For instance, if I or someone else should ask or say something and it is ubiquitous at times, the creator waits for the right tongue to chirp the right answer for a right slot to be defined or deed done.  We struggle so much today, many of us. I see the most petty hatreds and I want to flee to the mountains to hide, but I know my battles await me and I can only slide if I do not achieve my best in their decisions and movements.  Is not that the ultimate plan?  Or perhaps, sitting in a cave opens the darkness to the light in the mind for that non-consequential confrontation that means everything further down the line.  I weep, I wonder, I laugh, I shout with glee, I shout with damnation.  I bleed, or perhaps I do or do not die.   My own shadows, weaknesses, strengths, a culmination of a life time, but whose other than my own, our own.?

What does this picture mean to you?  I see the matter and the anti-matter in the center faces, one above the other.  I see man at top and woman at bottom or perhaps mother at top and son at bottom.  I see infinity in consumption.  I see the swallowing of the foul by the lion, and I see the swallowing of the lion by the buzzard foul in the next semi-succession in the top non-metaphysical core.   I see the holy father and the holy son.

Segment August 21, 2007: NO_shelter_NO_shelter

In  those moments of extreme terror, I often try to sense what weapons are there, like that moment before you are hit by a bullet.  I do not really worry about because as I see it, that war criminal element standing over us is a lesson to observe as we erect its replacement where it stands.

Now, about the Mobile Alabama City Council Auditorium, I noticed today that they kept pointing me to the auditorium exit on the other side of the auditorium, rather than the door.

Their house is a house of mirrors built upon a house of cards, or perhaps the mirrors are in the cards, either way they can use the heavy mass of the building and its design to concentrate force at the center.  That is just one of those premonition thoughts I feel I must have learned somewhere at big head fighting school with the ominous creator, not that swelling boil in your hand, called the United States, and you call it a nail hole while you torture us. You are laughable and very sad.

In God We Trust they forced on the monetary currency.  Now they call themselves Gods, not elected officials, and they behave like big headed animals going to war.  Ridiculous is this technological war.  They put the screws on us, kill me in the electric chair next to that human kid in Texas, Kenneth Foster, if you kill him.  I want it televised and I want Reggie Copeland to hold my hand with his circuit board replacement and their federal protectorate Mobile Alabama City Council and Mayor Samuel Jones.

They also have a weapon where if you hold your camera next to your head, a frequency laser beam is jolted into the machine which charges the camera in its emissions up next to the head.  Those are just thoughts on today's entertainment.  I welcome my enemies  to the big head school of weapons design.  O Let US Hope For A Global War, forever she stands, while the children are bleeding.  That is our new national anthem.  Sing it in the middle of the building, but turn on your machines.

Of course the regime sends in their red letter war criminals to stand behind us with every equipment imaginable and they take us apart. Do not stand still for them or IT, which is like a snake, primitive or modern, and realize some take a circuitous route as in physics and some are just plain monkey men with toys who will not last past the first intelligible war.

My father said to be an attorney and my favorite Uncle told me to be a teacher and not be part of the problem.  Now I teach by avoiding the problem.  They tried to kill me, I welcome death of myself and they.  They want to f_ck me up my rectum they say and the Mayor calls me the explicative for feces, sh_t. 

That is interesting coming from a fellow sailor, of what fleet?  Not Pacific?  IT has a vagina, it is a federal protectorate around it's Sam Jones, like the Wod Mike Dow.  I would fight for the North Vietnamese to kill either of them now.  They turn on us, we turn on it.  The Green Light Is On, but we must organize for the execution of their machines toward their relinquishment of the crown. In parting, I like to hear extraordinary music by one of hopeful full business partners, violinist who passes through the golden crescent. Check out his sight. Odd and magnificent.

Segment 8-18-2007:LABYRINTH_flight_EXECUTION

Like many, I have endured much torment in my life.  Having started off in a poor industrial neighborhood in the South East USA, I once thought that the pollution collected on the windshield of my parent's vehicle was snow, I  relished the idea of cold and snow.  I only knew heat and pollution and a living nightmare except for those moments when I dug for worms as a child, pretending they were to be the noodles in my soup, my pockets full of their chopped up bodies.  So why am I telling you this?  It is an expedition to explain why and how I have come to this twisted turn in the road of my life.  I search for my brother my father guaranteed me I would meet someday,  but instead I find my relatives in the poorest areas, their eyes like mine, quick, their skin neither pale nor dark, I know them at first glance, and they know me.

The lies of history mixed with the truth, the lies of my life mixed with the truth.  It is our own shadows we face I fear, I presume.   My heart now full of concrete, my head full of hallowed darkness, my fists clinched and relaxed, my back aching where the X-rays showed something that appeared to be wing fragments, what I recall as 5 on each side.  I did not count as much as I should.  Perhaps, I was de-winged, we were de-winged but were we de-clawed as a result?  Or perhaps the ability to escape was removed.  These mutt led men, in their camouflage and entourage of human flesh eating pansies makes me want to froth judgmental hews.   Perhaps it is not yet my turn, our turn.

I happened upon these winged lions of historical lore, once worshipped, and then placed at the door.   But what were they?  What did they or it become?  I look toward the who-do voodoo of religious history and find the cherubim?  But can they play a mandolin as I play a mandolin, never the same song twice, never to the same throng thrice.  

Of perhaps a seraph, that thing between snake and a god like being.  I do not feel like a snake or a god and as I look around, I only see humans as myself among a very few, although a few humans I have known, I exalt to the heavens as their feet should have never touched this fiery earth.  My protectors as always, move with me through the heavens as I trod along a pre-arranged path.  Next stop, that is not your damned business.  The low life's coming  to the fore on this planet are soon to taste their own salt, in a dead issue paddy wagon.

Sometimes I see, I hear, I feel, and I have contempt for those who try to stand in my way, with their low life education written in blood and gold and taunted on their head like a dead cabbage plate.

I do not fear death. I do not believe in death.  I exist now, therefore I existed before and will again, it is all the same, so do not try to lie to one who has clamored with the best liars in antiquity.

The case and framework for the children of my generation is laid out like a shoe box, but our heads do not fit in it, never mind our soul.  Football, baseball, hockey, badminton, the gamut, what a primordial joke oozing of mediocrity and placed at the fore so a low like stick can raise up and declare itself a throne.  Putrid and full of backwardness and decay, I smell the rancorous odors of its type and I watch as the Hellish elves run around starting a fire because this man's eye is blue or brown.  Facetious pigs.  I am glad Television has finally been broken of its mono-tongue and now we chatter as before.  But not all have access, nor should they, but they should not be beaten over the brow or tied to the yoke, as they are the primordial soup, the unfettered and untainted.

I want to guard the treasury of my people, but it has been robbed, and I too have been robbed, and I watch as their whores strut about in Limousines while their criminal Dons anchor themselves to the highest posts, and that is where I pump cementers glue and set the ravages of fire up their pants legs and as I count the dead among them, I feel the thump of the honest mans hands on my arms, trying to guide me, to what?  To nil?  I reckon.  But what?  Only time will tell that.  It is laid out like a maze and the echo of times past bring forth the coil of the serpents of the holy grail.

It is all the same in judgment or damnation or salvation or time immemorial placed in the flesh of the dirt under the soles of our feet and the souls of our bosom.

When I had been poisoned as a child and preceded to poison myself, before I realized the poison was there, my mother told me as I grasped a hand of rabbit tobacco to puff on it like a buffoon, "I can see what your life is going to be like".  There  I saw the Jackass in my self, and I recollected that thought when I tried to ascertain who I really was and where I really belong, and that adventure is still in the process of fruition, and my life echoes with that ghoulish nightmarish moment of self awareness in the pits of earth.

I am called places and sometimes I answer and sometimes I don't.   I am giving up on mankind in this wingless realm.  Perhaps I was cast out or I am just an adulterous fool, who is deceived by the shadows of a broken and shattered spine. 

I have heard people curse each other for their attributes, brown eyes, blue eyes, from here, not from here, and what damn difference does it make if I have a dime if all is crashing down and melting around me, around mine.  I am not as shallow as some and not as deep as some.  I have been tortured and betrayed, and now I am damaged and I want to flee and fight but I can not do both, so I stand stupefied.

I hear a crack in the darkness, an angel perhaps, and I turn to look and listen and I follow the directive.  My enemies surround me and call me insane while their needles and boots drip with the blood of innocent's and mine. 

My search continues, so do not preach to me you wayward priest whose blood is already curdled like stone.  We have no place for you, so back to the dome, the clay pit, to be reformed.  It is all the same, so for that 1-percent of you worth salvation, you get a nickel, not a dime, and that is too much from my perspective, from what I have suffered, but I am not objective, you spit in my eye and I want to loose your head.

I want to scream so I listen to the women sing to calm me.  I was told I should be prepared to do the dishes in a dream.  I thought I was to be a slave in the kitchen once again, so I sought out the most beautiful voices in the ephemeral mist of this life.  I love their singing, perhaps in the kitchen, perhaps in pappy's grass bed.  Many tongues, many wishes, much wisdom, my discontent pushes me to fly away but my wings are severed.  I appear or appeared  to be missing a set. 

You tell me Jack, how much does it cost to fly?  I see you earn twice as much as I on the books and much more under the table, and  if I am right I fly.  Sometimes the enemies tell me lies to spread, and I sometimes do not know the truth, but you can wager, if I am wrong or right, somebody will die, and that is all right, after all, is not the earth like clay and flesh, Jack Sh!t.  You split that money with me.  I have to travel and they have cut my wings both high and now low.  So, should I crawl into my hole and billow.  You don't want that Jack.

She is an example of what I and we weep over.  You libelous bastards.  A video of a young moroccan girl singing.  I know not one religion, only one wisdom, and it is housed in my brain like a holy grail at birth, unless scratched upon as many of our lives are in this torment, this sewer of Negative capitalism, negative destructive endeavor and resultant self destructive behavior of the humane human psyche collective.  You tell me Jack and like kind, will you steal food from her mouth?  Will you steal shelter from her corpus? You and your kind did and do.  They call me insane.  We will see who sucks the biggest grapes of wrath.  Countdown Nil.

Segment 8-17-2007: SLAVE_human_BLACK_white_BLUE

New Theory, Slave Owners Not Human, Whites and Blacks Imported and Used

I, Kurt Brown, publicity name Saint Ram Bone, have a theory and it may be wrong but in some sense I know I am right. As a human of any color, I believe it is difficult for a true human to cage or torture another human. The screams are too much like our own clan or tribe. It is easier to kill that man than to cage him, as numerous tribal conflicts have illustrated on many continents. And even then, killing a man is not so easy if you see his woman and child behind him screaming in horror. We see ourselves, as hard as it may be to keep it covered up with the hatred or emotion of the moment.

Perhaps I am just too conscious of it, but after being tortured by the regime in power in the United States after working at the FDIC as a bank examiner, I have come to realize that my brother is a man of any hue if he appears to have any inkling of a humane conscience.

I am a pale skinned man with curled eyelashes like a black man. My penis is much larger than most white men, probably more like a Mediterranean resident, and my nose is more broad at the base, perhaps African or Indian, a mix blood. I have twice the upper body strength of most men I have met, dark or light. I was in sports when young, top notch, but got out of it after a slight run of truancy in a dysfunctional household with a mostly absent dysfunctional parent. I run the average speed of a darker skinned man and far outpace light skinned men on average.

Now, on to my point.

I believe that we have been misled in history, and this is a theory. We are still slaves to this day to the same master of yesterday. This can be done through high finance. For instance, those poor mill workers of yesteryear when they went to retire, and I am speaking of our parents and uncles, their money was not there at retirement. It was prunded like a ripe grape by the financial machine at the top of corporations with the help of government and or others..

The master of this ripoff is likely not a white man or a black man, he or it may not even be a man. Technology can put an animal in any suit. A machine could be there of a sort and the operator at a remote location, deriving our wealth through our endeavor. We could even be deluded into seeing something that is not there with the right mechanics or device or chemical or combination of wave and such. The saddest part is that this being or thing could blend in to any group, any race, its technology and intelligence outstripping ours in the current most likely polluted circumstances.

I fear we are tampered with as children, made stupid by chemical injections and the environment, including projections from space such as neutrino fields. The unknown and unseen can be at the door waiting for your child, waiting to put him or her among the stupid humans, which we view as us. Some are more damaged than others. For instance, handedness. We are not crabs with one claw, yet we live in that manner, most of us anyway, with one side of the brain as dumb and untalented as a severe retard..

I have dreams, odd troubling dreams, visitors if you will. One came to me and said, "You have been a slave a long time". Considering my upper body strength, I am not surprised. Ironically, I have also spotted some weird anomalies in my physique. My X-rays show small protrusions on my spine in the thoracic area which is between the shoulder blades. Five on each side, like wings or those things on alligators. My doctor said it may have been an injury or birth defect. It is too uniform to be an injury. I do not trust the VA doctors or any doctors now. I have been betrayed by the VA and they were doing forced injections and experiments on veterans in Los Angeles, where I was stationed in the Navy and later held captive and injected at the VA by federal associates operating on behalf of the FDIC who claimed I was a threat to them in San Francisco. I was the one attacked and almost killed. Now even Mobile Alabama government denies my entry into their city council meetings. Like the Russian regime, they call their humane opponents insane. I feel there is a technological trap in government buildings. Alabama Senator Figures died of a brain hemmorhage. I spit blood after going to an Alabama court, Judge McMaken's, for demanding my right to enter their government meetings. This is a technological confrontation at this point. Protect your children from all contact with them. It is a tall order but this is our war, our burden. I feel the bible was tainted also with lies. A man does not need a book to feel another man's suffering yet the bible seems to promote killing. Perhaps it was a vendeta, mankind is known for it.

I have been tortured and injected though after working at the FDIC and squeezed out the door and terminated by a man, George Masa, who came from Chicago's FDIC to San Francisco's FDIC to replace a man killed in his office by his own gun. I was attacked for filming Masa and his outside associate. The fellows who worked for him and his outside companion who he spoke with in the streets tried to take my camera and then an attempt was made on my life. The government then turned on me like a rabid wolf.

Masa can be found on my website at a link near the bottom of the Mobile Audit Club's home page or you can search the FLRA website for George Masa in Chicago. He had an EEOC case with a black man denied promotion. Masa lost. The EEOC in San Fran. would not hear my case. I was told to drop my EEOC case or be terminated. I am listed as a disabled veteran.. I will link my site below. Masa was a cocky f8ck. His smile was like that of a man with a secret and no conscience and despite his high position, he seemed effiminate, and I am sure in the final war in history I could take him out with one swing of an ax or sword and I am faster in a jet, reflexes like a cat. I picture the Mas type as an extention of the slave owner. Masa might not be real. The murder of his predecessor, the regional FDIC director in San Francisco was real and the attempt on my life was real. The government called his predecessors death suicide and they called me insane and the federal regime in power with LA Superior Court assistance tried to commit me for life to an insane asylum after I came forward on murder, money laundering, and the attempt on my life. One million dollars bail, forced injections and that sort of threat makes you sign documents, or as boxers put it, "take a fall", and that I did.

I noticed that a certain bank examiner also had that sort of non human feel in Sacramento when I worked there. He issued a bank charter to a grease ball from Reno Nevada. Most likely laundering skimmed casino money in his bank. That same bank examiner in charge was at another bank and I was placed in the top examiners room and I interviewed the President, a millionaire per year. He was sweating when I was looking at him and we were discussing salary. Nothing could be proven due to collusion anyway. Know the meaning of the word collusion from an auditor's perspective and you will see the National Treasury Employees Union and their 120 or more federal agencies has a choker chain around our necks..

What can be done? Protect your children. Remember what I said. We might all have been slaves of one sort or another, and we may still be. Take a look around. There is no monopoly on poverty among humans of any hue. We are all discriminated against if you single out that individual hue from each group.

In a blink of an eye, this can be gone. I would rather be dead than be a slave to this planet or to ignorance or to suffering. My life has been hell at most points, from cradle to what is now almost 50 years. When I take a step forward I am pushed back and held down. My imagination is a fast machine and my analytical abilities good, but the math side of the brain is not a physicist or a physician, although I have an innate sense for physics, it is the number crunching that sometimes leaves me baffled.

I look to the heavens and ask for a change for the better or my death eternal and the taking of all of my suffering brothers and sisters conscience. I have changed.

Mobile Audit Club's Kurt Brown Saint Ram Bone saying take a look at the "continuing problems section" of the first link and then just take a look at the Mobile Audit Club, just scan around. It is a novel online with links. A blue eyed parent and a brown eyed parent and they both suffered in this life and they were both robbed, just like your family. Enough is enough. The chains are drawn taught and I look over at my comrades and start to dance like the elephant. It's time has come. The humane spirit of the humane humans will emerge victorious or we will lay silent like Saturn.

Someone came to me in a dream and said, "I hope you like doing dishes." I have had the pleasure of being with many women of all colors and religions over the past 6 years or so. I did it on purpose. You can not blame the Jew either or the Chinaman or the Muslim or any humane being. We all have varying levels of prejudice. Some books and people teach us to be prejudice. It is a disadvantage for the person and for the humane race. I think prejudice has a negative correlation to intelligence.

See continuing problems section on down the page.

The creator dances with elephant shoes too. I weep for our children. Does not the creator see? It is all in the design, the tissue of flesh into the light and the night, to the stars and beyond.

Segment 8-2-2007:BORDER_nomans_LAND_border_NOMANS_land

In the thoughts of the retrieval of the world to the humane for a brief moment I have conjectured upon the anti-nationality and oblique bridge across the borders of all nations.

First, you must realize that the borders themselves are like no-mans-lands, which brings up the point, who gives a damn who is it at or under the border if they cross or the border crosses them.  To understand my point you must understand a little about physical dynamics and magnetic fields explain it best. 

The oblique angle of increased acceleration to point r, meaning the hot point of decomposition or vaporization on either from side from two fixed points and alternating in a third.    Now, imagine the magnetic fields of two magnets  touching and that point of repel.  In there is where you will find the egg.

Like the bankers in the fed who blink those shutters on and off as they transpose and flip that currency like a clitoris of a game hen laying an egg.  C---sucker.  Now we put it together for the big banger flip.

Segment 7-27-2007:MASCULINE_capitalism_POSITIVE_MASCULINE_capitalism_POSITIVE

I remember once looking for the most logical explanation of nature and the creative force in its most masculine influence.  I questioned whether communism was better or negative capitalism.

To explain, negative capitalism is drug syndicates, corrupt governments who sell war for profit and greed, gambling and its natural companion skimming and the resultant money laundering, and anything that harms and does not really contribute to the overall health of a society.

Positive capitalism is that which fosters life, health, happiness, and basic necessities of survival.  Entertainment of a non-predatory nature is also Positive Capitalism.  Gambling is not positive capitalism as it is predatory.

But what about the masculine nature of the universe, the natural charge of competition and survival beyond the bounds of this little backward Hell known as planet Earth in the alleged year, 2007 a.d.?  What does the masculine force see the leader of the societies of the universes as?

The leader will be those dominions or people who can wrest out positive capitalism with social programs for all.  Negative capitalism never comes along for the ride.&

Daily Foreword 7-25-2007: In the United States the regime in power is a bloodthirsty killer of humane and innocent people. Casinos and illegal drug and money laundering syndicates in the government have left Negative Capitalism king and Positive Capitalism near dead. Communism is next--see ancient Asia as proof. The test has been run, the regime in power in the United States, and their mass media, and their practitioners of forced injections are our enemies and designed to keep us in a slave state. They rob pensions through the government also. Welcome strikes against those enemies of ours and support their victims rights to take their fair share from the ruling regime and their cut-throat supporters in the event of their or "IT's" being toppled around the globe.

Mobile Audit Club is hiring Talent of all disciplines and disciples, and it appears that the Mobile Alabama Craigslist is edited and my ad did not appear. Everything else is edited there. The outside world calls us "Rednecks" in some circles, also known as "white niggers". I see us as victims of a regime of fake conservatives, who are in fact nothing more than "Killers and Thieves". See the Ad on Love Line 6 from segment July 25, 2007. I have also updated Quatrains 5 and placed a rap poem or other type of lyric on LA Indymedia to the crooked Federal Treasury and FDIC money launderers, murderers, and their theives and their federal cohorts, who are our enemies across our stolen lands, as I search for talent. They laught at our suffering and mock us, but we shall not laugh or mock or give mercy to them till death do us part. Their kind picks their sores for entertainment, and nourishment.

Segment July 26, 2007: RED_heart_MOTHER_creators_RED_heart_MOTHER_creators

 

In the theory of the wife to the creator I once ventured upon a large red something, like a heart or sweet

potato. It floated there in the center, red and rippled, shaped like a large set if lips on each side, 360 degrees in circumference.

Then I noticed its translucent shell, and it appeared to be the heart of this creature I was to guard.

Mother. She left a tear drop on my right eye, red and rippled.

I can see from it even when I am blind.

That is likely how I spotted the serial killer in Randy Kraft in Long Beach, California in 1983.

 

That is likely how I was led to find the criminal syndicates housed in the federal governments and local governments. It's pick butt time. Listen to them run. She knows I welcome the end of the suffering under IT, them, as always viewed or heard or witnessed.

 

Segment July 25, 2007: SMALLER_quicker_LIFE_start_SMALLER_quicker_LIFE_start

 

With the nature of the transient moment, one's entire emphasis and composition can shift with to slight to little discomfort to disorientation and a quantifiable measure of discomfort from 0 to 1, with 1 and any greater number being semiconscious unconscious.

We are under attack in this world, any way you slice it.  Which brings up the questionable proposition with an answer affirmed as 1.  Things within our framework of existence are kept small, from planets to life forms on Earth.  Always under fire, trimmed down and small, even our existences, and likely that of this planet.  Like a cloud passing over a landscape so does the passage of long term life forms.  Human beings, HA!

This life as it is like a questionable nightmare of hell for many.  Our leaders as feeble minded as simpletons in the fringes and their indifference is like that of starving drunks for a drink, damn everything else.

I see the splinter and the lie and those needles they inject us with, only rob us and make us die.  I was injected on 4-23-2001 and tortured for years by the federal criminals laundering money and murdering our people in California.  I was associated with  the federal banking system in North California and the boss  there covered all Pacific Rim banks under federal FDIC Supervision in bank examinations.

They killed.  So shall we.   Welcome the wars that are waging against them.  The humane are attacking the inhumane.  The collateral damage should wake you up to see blood stains on the walls of nearby history, and today of course.  Your dollar is shot, it costs less than pot, your stranger is in school, and your walls now crack with pot, you back in school. 

We should hope for global war and look over our shoulder for the fall of the negative capitalists empire and applaud it with renewed vigor.  They, and or, IT, has become too strong.  The sheep baa baa like before.

SEGMENT July 17, 2007: ENSLAVENT of MANKIND methods

 

The harnessing or enslavement of large populations of intelligent beings or their species is not so hard to do.  What is hard is to do without the population knowing it, and I feel we are at least partially steeped in that tradition as we sleep and slave.

We all know of the whip and chain type of slave, but I am going to talk about two other types and I am sure there are many more.  Technically one can enslave something that is not intelligent, and that is a beast of burden.  The real drawing line comes when you ask who or what is intelligent.  I am totally against enslavement of any human in human kind, but we are enslaved, whether you know it or not.

Now, the first and most direct route to enslaving a population is to take control of their monetary system or systems.  By manipulating currency values and placement of investments with the correct timing, entire populations can be enslaved at any given moment.  It was a To paraphrase Sir Rothschild who said, "If you give me control of a society's monetary and banking system, I will have control of that society." 

Have you noticed how the working class always falls short when it is time to collect their pensions?  They are robbed and the corporate tree is pruned and the baskets of certain individuals is filled while others go without.  A governments financial system can rob corporations pension plans, especially so with insider help.

The second method if taking control of a society and enslaving them, completely or partially is much more complex.  I can only envision this and know that it exists or has existed in the millennia.   I have come to realize that some things or beings may not be what they seem.    Theoretically, we could be swallowed up by a structure or structures placed around us.  It takes a lot of brain power and knowledge and ability to deceive in full, but there are many tricks and deceptions.

However, I believe that some could string through the societies in space, their own apparitions of intelligent beings or those designed to build.   Therefore their system would be closed as they moved to the top of everything, including corporations, governments, and in many respects, they could be the leaders of that society based on the design of many, including the winged, the monitors, and or the inept. 

You must realize that we are in the center of a living cell, with things not being what they are in what they seem to us at this lower level.  It has been proven that the outer bounds of space is shaped like a cell or a loaf bread.  There are lines of striation.  The big bang allegedly went from center to outside, but I say it went from outside to center and we are revolving back out, just as the lines of striation indicate stress and flow, much like a cell.

So, why am I telling you this?  In the cell, one thing robs another to supply the life force for another.  There are killers like cancer that fight with the inherent defenders like the immune system.  The overall goal of life is life, on Earth or whatever Heaven or lack thereof you foresee.   So you see there are defenders and there are pretenders.

Where is our G_d Damned society?  Their money is their altruistic endeavor in war.  They or IT views us as a lesser, so we are slaves.  But to what?  For what?  I am not surprised that communism was the choice of the ancient Chinese societies.  Capitalism is a good thing if it is positive, but the negative capitalism is like cancer and it does not help the overall cell.    I smell death everywhere and I see our societies leaders as little roaches.

Bank Examiner bonanza was when I counted money launderers in the fed.  Now I am counted out, not like a sheep, but a wolf with a camera and a kinder soul.

SEGMENT July 15, 2007: WALL of humans ENSLAVED

IN THE illusion is the delusion, and in it, birth and death which with persistent savor, I do not mind.  Now, on to the conclusion.

The enemy is around us, and it is an IT.  He or she and the other it's can not be discerned and removed.  The government of the United States is a dirty death dealing and dope dealing whore that is a prostitute for the prison builders of earth and they or IT is the propagator of the prison of the human population or populations.

History is a damned lie most likely.  The evidence of greater wars and struggles surround us.    Some men are like animals who treat others in the same method.  The United States is prison nightmare of dope and corrupt governments with their boots on our throats, their cages around our generations, and their damned poisonous needles in our children's birth from cradle to slave to grave.

We are no longer allies and we likely never were except for the deception.  Only alliances that were are now existent.  The dividing line is a torch passed in the night.  The United States Government has gone dark and is fit to be beheaded.  Our lives mean nothing and we never did, only used.

The truth is in the deception, the wall cast from space or beyond.  The illusion, use it, and feel the delusion of perception.  Slit our throats in the night if we are to remain captive to the demeaning and inhumane governments ripping at the world or worlds, in particular these damned United States and their perverted mass media of yellow dung to cover a sea of blood, ours and our childrens.

Welcome the casting out of the regime.  Welcome our deaths if necessary, as the time approaches, we will know who is one among us or IT.

We should attack on chosen days, disrupting their horrors, their societies, and we should choose to applaud when our enemies in the United States and worlds government are attacked.  The mass media is fat liar and a slew of friends to killer pigs calling themselves human, and most absurdly, Humane?

 

SEGMENT JULY 12, 2007: Latest weaponry, mind control.

A new weapon is out that modulates a frequency or stuns the mind with a voltage, depending on how you view it. 

It is a handheld device with two needle transmitters that is aimed and pointed.  Much like a stun gun.  It may have been developed further in a later model with a regulated hertz to cause a person to stand while unconscious.    Most likely someone would be behind you, fire the two needles into the neck and another might be in front to catch your fall. 

For instance, you walk into a convenience store, and if the clerk is gone, for whatever purpose, you could be easily stunned and completed subdued by a two person team.

"Gun?"  Who needs a gun.  The regime is IT, and governments like that in Mobile Alabama owe me a large sum for stealing from me in their courts for demanding participation like every other human or lesser human in the eyes of the dictatorship.   

Los Angeles federal government forcibly injected me and and made me sign papers in the California courts.  I want 112  million dollars from them or I want the governors, senators, and their billionaires supporters held on war crimes charges in the United States.  The Veterans Administration forcibly injected me and held me for ten torturous days, and it was the same LA VA of the foreign tongues.   The FDIC money launderers strong arm was there.  The war is now here.

 Let us take our pound of flesh from them or it, or let it fall to the ground.  Watch out for simple ambush weapons.  They are like piss ants with toys, but they do bite.  I give you permission to take their lives if they touch you.  Their leaders are not us.

Segment May 20, 2007:  ASTRONOMICAL PHYSICS bent constraints

In theoretical approximations of the mass percentage volume needed to contain a planet or person or cosmos or bent dimensional astronomical plane or bubble approximation similar in shape to the earth and or the rotation of the earth around the sun, one could conjecture the bubble technique of removing mass and matter to another stage from one planetary mass or volume to another.

The approximated Faraday cage can be assembled if mass and matter is contained to simulate approximation of field lines.  There are many constraints I can see and benefit, including wind tunnels or energy grids through space. Of course we will have to remove "IT"'s hand before we can move forward.

Segment April 26, 2007:  PREJUDICE_death_ARMED_history_RENEWED_war

I have lived long enough to see through lies and propaganda, and I have lived long enough to see the ugly face of prejudice and greed, which are in fact the two flip sides of the coin ignorance.

I have known Jewish women who scowl at Muslims, and I have known Muslim women who scowl at Jews.  I have known people from women from all groups, including Buddhists, Hindus, Christians, Catholics, atheists, agnostics, Wikkans, and that is just the start of the list.  I liked all of them, some more than others at different periods, but I think it depends on the period, not the woman.

What I do not like is blind prejudice, that prejudice that says, "I hate this group, or I hate that group".  That is so dangerous to hate an  entire group.  It is akin to hating a toe on your foot because there is feces under the toe-nail, so you whack it off with a meat cleaver. 

Now, can you imagine walking around missing all of your toes, all of your fingers, and still trying to chop pieces off.  It is senseless and baseless.

However, some of the women are right in that they should dislike certain actions by certain people.  I guess what happens in some cases is that religious texts are mis-interpreted or they are written with some divine judgment and at other times the monkey known as greed or avarice of the primitive animal in all of us creeps in.

One particularly sensitive issue is the friction between the Islamic people or Muslim people and the Jews or Christians when looking at the conflict in Israel.

I will preface what I am about to say with this...the Promised land is not confined to this dirt pit that has become an increasing living Hell known as planet Earth.

I would not walk on Israeli soil today because it is covered with the blood and bodies of the Palestinians.  You can not see them on your lawn, but they are there.  They have not left. 

Some may argue, well we were here first.  My reply is, what came first, the chicken or the egg?  It is all so ludicrous when space beckons us all.  We can fight over the same piece of ground on every inch of Earth, and we fail the test.  The test is that by the creator.  There is nothing owned in the flesh.  It is all on rent here.  If you want to fight for it, be prepared to die for it.  I am not getting involved and I can tell you the outcome -- Nothing.  That is what you get, nothing.  Death is a cycle that repeats over and over ad infinitum.

When I enter a place where there is recent death, I smell it in my inner being.  I smell it like a fly smells rotting flesh.  To the fly, it smells like grapes and cherries.  If you every live through that being, the fly, you will wake up and gag at what you have been eating.  That is why I will not step on freshly bloodied soil if an occupant there condoned the killing of the innocent.  Yes, they are innocent.  We have no guarantees of anything in ancient history.  You might have been conned and you might not even be on the same damned planet.  History repeats, in nauseating circles for those who do not listen to the sound of the hollow wind and the screams of death and the smell of the grapes and cherries so relished by the maggot and the flesh eating fly.

Go ahead, celebrate your new gotten wealth like that fly.  The bodies lay everywhere and the media taunts their spectacles, including, "Look over here, not there, the Nasdaq Composite is Up, Up, Up".  Ah yes, the maggot and flesh eating fly puke it back up and suck on it like a sweet milkshake, and then,  they awaken like the Buddhist in reincarnate and gags, not in happiness, but sickness and filth.

What can be done about the set of circumstances?  Make Israel move?  Make the people in New York die so the Indian can re-settle on their homeland?  NO~! 

What can be done is to look to the stars and ask, are we worthy of the place, the dream, that many of us have of space colonies close to the heavens, a plentiful place befitting the king of kings and the highest peasants whose crowns and feet are as king as the kings themselves. 

If we are to have our people fight, and the majority agree to wield a stick for eternity, then I say get me off of this damned planet, even if I have to be sucked up by flies and defecated on your potato salads.

I am sickened by the lack of diplomacy of modern leaders.  I am sickened by the mindset of us versus them.  I am sickened by the ignorance, not only by others, but even in my own life.  I try to correct my ways.  All the time, making amends.  I fight for what is right, even if it makes me look like a fool.  I am my own judge and I use the creators yardstick for the advantage I need to survive above the likes of the fly and men who are like flies.

A turtle has more brains.  It digs a hole when it is about to get its brains blown out.  It saves time.

I do not argue with the women I have known on this issue.  They sense my disgust.  I remember a heavenly paradise.  I remember many things scantily.  I may just be dreaming like that other bald man so many liked to hate, Martin Luther King. 

I liked Martin Luther King, but I have yet to see him grab the eyes and hearts of the downtrodden of all the races.   I think his dream might have envisioned what I see.  I never knew him and I was always only shown bits and pieces on mass media. 

The same mass media that disgusts me.  The Nasdaq composite is up today, they scream.  While what I see is a criminal syndicate that prunes hard working peoples retirements like they are prunin fruit flowers from a succulent tree.  The fruit is never harvested. 

So to MLK, I say, I see your dream, and I do not see all of humanity around you, but I am relying on mass media.  When I open my minds eye, I see MLK on his own planets, and on those planets is a mixture of many people who love him as much as my women of all colors and nationalities and religions love me.

Do not bury me in a grave full of maggots on filthy soil.  Take me home.  Take me out of this place and find the paradise next to Heaven that all humane men deserve.

Segment April 25, 2007 _ FORCED_jnjections_FORCED_rape_GLOBAL_suicide_NOW_make_HAPPEN

Below, I have pasted a post from the Newsgroups that I made.

First, however, I would like to talk about the times I was forcibly injected since the Bush regime came to power. 

The first time was in Los Angeles on Federal Property in 2001.  I was forcibly injected for no reason.  A woman said I spoke too quickly. I had informed on Sheriff Jack Tillman, food funds thief, who had illegally taken my gun permit and who had blocked my entry into a city council meeting in Mobile Alabama where I was going to report emaciation of inmates and my suspecting his thievery. Tillman was terminated from the Job. Also, I had reported money laundering and murder at the FDIC, my former employer, as a bank examiner. I had also reported an attempt on my life in 2001 after St. Valentines Day. I was investigating a murder of a regional FDIC director on my own, and I was testing his replacement, George Masa, and the FDIC higher level employees. The test came back positive.  I was calm and compliant at the VA property in LA, Westwood.  I simply parked on federal property with my belongings.  I was injected two times, apparently in sequence, but I do not know if I was knocked unconscious.  I would blow the federal officers brains out today as if he was a rapist if I saw him do it to me or one of my people again. Of course, he may be an IT, an untouchable.

The Second time I was injected was at Flagstaff Arizona in 2004.  I was on state hospital property at Flagstaff Medical Center.  I was reporting a hazardous waste spill on  Interstate 40 in New Mexico and a burn on my neck.  I was compliant, very compliant.  I was knocked unconscious from those injections. I may have been injected again as I was detained for three days. I remember being injected in the mouth. I might have also been raped. I would kill all involved at this point if I could have the cowards responsible, but that would be impossible if they are the true IT. There is no time to be squeamish. My truck also allegedly tested positive for radiation.  I was held down by 7 or 8 people.  I was injected through my pants legs I believe.  I had to sit there for several hours before they came to inject me.  A guard stood over me.  I should have left and if he had detained, I should have broken his neck.  I was injected twice that I am aware.  Their needles felt odd in my legs.  The injections at LA were in my arms.

The odd thing about each time is that people doing it did not seem all human. It was as if they were possessed by the orders given to them, or most likely, IT. 

Let us welcome a global war against the regime in power who has allowed this to happen.  We are being raped by the self righteous pigs of the universe.  I pray for the creator to wreak justice by bringing in global death of our species.

Now, about the post on the newsgroups where everyone encourages and applauds attacks.  Some are so naive.  Some are the IT.

Good guys and bad guys?  You will find yourself chasing your tail like a dumb dog.

We know the regime in power in the USA  is not our ally.  We know they are corrupt and we want them dead.

But first you must realize that there is something amiss in the world.  Look at the borders everywhere.  We are divided. 

Yes, the regime is a filthy pig fit for death.  But what replaces it?  That is a serious question because every time we remove our necks from the noose, it is put right back in by the next regime.  

There is what I call an IT factor in the world.  It divides us, it is not humane, in that it does not see us as equals but as animals, whose labor is to be harvested.  In that sense we are like calm cows at the butcher, being herded around by the farmer.

How can this be?  The delusion and illusion that you are dealing with something human or real because it looks and feels human and real.  Its handcuffs are real, and so are its bullets.  We help them or it build those things because we are being herded on both sides of the fence, harvested.  

If we can not get out, I welcome a global war that kills our species. 

I was a federal bank examiner for the FDIC in the USA.  A regional director was killed and labeled suicide in his office.  I survived an attempt on my life and I was labeled insane, by whom?  By it?

I do not know if we can get out.  If not, let us help other nations to detonate weapons around the globe and block out the sun.  We are better off dead than under the boot of IT. 

The American Indians opted for suicide in the face of defeat.   I honor those men.  They were likely battling Europeans who were herded by IT.

Never again serve the regime.  If they are killed, do not worry, they are not us, they or IT likely does not feel, even though they may writh like they are in pain.  We have been conned.

Welcome humane brotherhood for the victims of IT.  If not, let us take the Indian road.  Global death of our species.

I was told by a woman that the Indians of India were like the Devils.  She claimed to be Jewish.  She was and is a friend.  But, I do not agree.  I have Indian friends and I would welcome Gandhi in to my home on any day, and many of the India Indians in Fremont California.

No, if we are to be herded and pruned by IT, let us cheer when the sun is blocked out in global war.  That is the day IT loses its grip over our species, our people.

I hope you are never forcefully injected by IT, like I was.  They always injected me twice when doing so.  It is like being gang raped.  I want all of them or IT killed that touched me.  I do not care who controls them or IT but I want them or IT dead also.  I do not care if it kills us all in the process.  IT is high time we deal with IT in a mighty bloodbath, if IT or IT's controller has blood.

My mind keeps going back to Sheriff Jack Tillman of Mobile Alabama who was stealing inmate funds.  He is likely one of the dumber version of our kind.  He guarded the door for the beasts to operate, and now that they or IT has a foothold, he is not needed.  He was given a misdemeanor for thievery  and a very nice retirement package for a war criminal with crimes against humanity.

I and my friends and family have been retaliated against, or perhaps, the war has waged for an eternity.  My grandmother who endured hardship with virtue her entire life in the South East USA once told me, "Things are never as bad as they seem".  May she rest in peace when we part company with IT.  We have been raped too many times.  We know IT exists.  We have trouble discerning IT from us.  That is IT's nature.  We have been outcast but we are about to become undone.  Bring on the global war.  IT has raped us for the last time I hope and pray and urge you to move into overtime for the kill.  That is just my opinion.  That of a rape victim, probably in more ways than one.  Flagstaff was like Hell.  Hell was no better in LA. 

I, Kurt Brown, alias Saint Ram Bone, would have died defending that city.  Now I hand it over to would be war profiteers and tell them or the fake IT, not to waste time and not to divey up the payload.  Detonate it across the globe and into the sky.  Today or tomorrow, we all die.  Things are not as bad as they seem, except for IT, in the future.

As one final aside, I feel that every single one of us who served in the USA military has been tampered with.   I was told by a dentist once that I have a tooth, that was repaired or put in while in the Navy, that looks like electronics in the upper rear left.  It is black and gruesome.  I have also a bridge in my mouth that was put in on the lower left that is huge and bulky and the Navy dentist chose to do a bridge rather than a crown.  When he was doing it, it was bloody and painful.  Another dentist came and stood at the door  and seemed to stand guard as he put the large bridge in. 

I had a dream the other day, or the tail end of one, like a news report that said, "50 million will die". That was just a dream, the dental work is real, and I have an unexplained scar on the upper right that stretches from the second molar to the roof of my mouth. I can not explain where it came from and it was verified by an oral surgeon in Los Angeles when I was in forced exile by the USA governments in 2003. It felt infected and seemed to be oozing an exudate. Also, just to put things in perspective and not to make any false or assumptive trails, I had gone to a dentist in San Francisco in 2000 who may have done some work where the scar is that reaches to the top of my mouth, as a dentist there did say he had to make an incision to finish a root canal. I do not know if that is conclusive as to explaining the large scar and the oozing of exudate after my release from Los Angeles federal and state custody in 2001 on August 12, 2001. The oozing was later, closer to early 2003, after I had tried to enter that fascist dictatorship known as the Mobile Alabama government and their federal protectorate. Those large dog teeth that come in for some people in their adult life, the wisdom teeth, never surfaced in my mouth, for those who are counting teeth and placement of the scar of the cut in my mouth.

Segment April 24, 2007__LIAR_government_LIAR_media

It is ironic that the word liar when spelled backward is rail.  We are and have been railroaded by the government in power and their media.

They or IT is not what it seems. 

The media is a distraction device just as much as the thing or the IT that is supposed to be our government.  They or it puts us into one war after another with our own kind around the globe. 

They or it robs us of billions in this war that is eternal, and they in the end will leave us a shell, a nothing, a slave to them or IT.

Have you ever felt the plastic feel from television?  That surreal feeling that leaves you wondering who is in control.  The government is not what they seem and none of the government institutions are on our side.  They empower it and they keep us alive for a sort of pruning, taking what they or IT needs when they or IT needs it.

Some groups are given carte blanche, meaning they are given part of the pie, but most of it is taken and used and squandered. 

I encourage all people to turn their televisions off and if their government is attacked, do not fret.  They are not us.  They are an it.  They or IT feels no pain.  They or IT is likely not even among us.

We are slaves and prisoners on this planet.  We should treat it like a prison and have our own governments inside the prison.  Even when they or IT appears to suffer, they or IT is not us.  They or IT is likely not even real.

To think I ever pledged allegiance or served in a military for them or IT shows how naive I was.  Many of us stood there worshipping their or IT's contrivances and idols.  They or it has divided us.  We likely all spoke one language at one time and I would wager it is a dead language, never to be heard or spoken again by us.

I hope to go to Syria soon.  I will go to every nation that is allegedly threatening to IT.  I expect to find IT in control in many of  those nations.

Hollywood is like a dog, a filthy dog that is riddled with disease, but IT likes it that way.  Their television and the lies and the cunning and the conning of us to hate various groups of our kind is IT's forte.

It was a mistake to have fought in World War II.  Our nation is poorer as a result and so are we.  It was a mistake to have fought in Vietnam and Iraq.  Their game is insidious.

The humane conscience does not need a symbol to justify its existence.  The humane and intelligent conscience does not fight for the same piece of property over and over again. 

The universe is out there.  We are slaves to this planet.  I hear and see our kind suffering.  Bush is not our president.  He is part of IT and is not what he or IT seems.  The congress and the senate and the governors and most if not all of your local government is more of the same.

I have more empathy and humane conscience for the lowliest working positions across the globe.  If I was faced with one person who I have met who was genuine and humane, and I was told that person dies or the entire USA government's allegedly elected officials were to be assassinated.  I would laugh and say pull the plug on the latter. 

It is dead before it arrives because it was never born and IT has no humane conscience for us humans.  IT is nothing and it will remain that way.  We are viewed as nothing by IT.

Go ahead, try to get involved in your government and see how you are treated.  They or IT will treat you like a monkey who has crawled up from the trees and the streets to interfere with the milking of our kind by IT.

Do not applaud their war efforts.  Form your own governments, your own entertainment, and shut that damned television off.  If they or IT applauds war, then applaud when they or IT has been gotten rid of.  IT is like a mold with an aura.  You see the aura but not the mold.  You simply smell and see its stench under the aura.

Never serve IT and applaud when it is destroyed.   It appears some will say we are at the end of time.  There is no end to time.  There is an end to suffering.  But don't you have that to look forward to anyway.   Do not fret when they or IT or your brother says the end of the United States is now.  We are not United, we are divided around the globe and used by IT. 

Let IT bleed.  IT's blood is an apparition, a delusion.  Save your family and shelter them from IT.  Do not trust anything that is allegedly and approved and sanctioned by the government and media controlled by IT, or them,  as we know them.

Segment April 20, 2007:KURT_cur_TRUcK_dirt_WINGS  We in this world live in the dark ages.  Many of our kind think of themselves as being "Safe" with their fast flying fighter jets, and many of our kind think that the automobile is the latest rage in private transport.

From the beginning of time there have been misconceptions.  The beginning of time is an interesting concept, because for time, there has to be space, and for someone to comprehend space and time, that person has to be made of cohesive matter, cohesive in some form, or all atoms are free flung.

Therefore, in my cohesive matter, from the dust from which it sprung, I see space.  I see the fighter jets flying over my home, the same jets owned by the government that injected me and jailed me for being in fear for my life after working for the USA government as a federal bank examiner for the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation, which is not a corporation at all, but instead is a federal government agency.  An attempt was made on my life for reporting money laundering and the murder of the prior boss at the agency in San Francisco. He was labeled a suicide. 

As a side thought-- I recently had a vision that he was already dead before the trigger was pulled in his high rise office.

We know the USA government is not controlled by us.  We know we are the lower caste.  We know there are those who do things to the young to guarantee their subjugation to the upper caste, whoever and whatever it is.

What I find funny is that it is most likely that the upper caste considers their fighter jets and nuclear weapons and other recent undisclosed weapons to be top notch. 

I will laugh when there guts are strung back in the Universe as dust.  Their fighter jets are a joke, the automobile is a comedy, and yet I am not laughing.  I know the creator has a greater plan, and there are levels to warfare.  The bottom layer is like an ant, biting and stinging, to no avail.  On up the scale a notch is the fighter jet and groups of people or beings calling themselves top notch.

The beauty of being a little nobody at the bottom with my own wings tucked in my flesh is that someday I will fly with my kind again.  I will leave this primordial hell.  I hope I can see the goodness in those who were here again.  The rest with their fighter jets killing the innocent and their government agents with their needles injecting us, can go straight to Hell, or dust, whichever is more needed.

This life is a nightmare and it is at times pleasant.  I want to get close to the creator but I do not see the creators homestead here.  So, I will lie down in the dirt like Kurt, and howl at the moon like a cur and laugh my insides out as I watch our enemies, twinkle twinkle dust star in my eye, you ripped out our insides, now you die and I forgot to cry or sigh.

We are a drop in the bucket and our leaders are jokes.  We are prisoners on this planet, or maybe it is just I, I in the primordial phase, waiting to blossom, with wings that never die, wings that are born to fly, not like the maggot pupae, but like saints, you and I.

The difference between the creators army is that they nor I fear anything. If we see a nuclear blast, if we are already suffering, we say, "Good, this is the day I am going to die".

Genetic engineering and manipulations are as old as all of the old and new and present times combined. I may be a genetic manipulation myself. I have these strange wings under the X ray on spine. Did I already die? Is that why some will laugh and some will cry when I die, and some will simply sigh or say goodbye. After all, my mother named me after a mongrel a mut, a Cur, and my name she called me was Kurt. I sleep in my TRUcK, and I am treated like a cur. No, I do not care if I and the universe die. We have wings so we can fly, not like anything on this earth, this dream of life, can die.

Segment April 13, 2007_IT_rotten_TO_core_IT_rotten_TO_core

In theories of wars and nightmares that come together to form my reality, I have come across another weapon of the conquerors who may hold planet Earth hostage.

There are those things that are voice activated. 

Imagine if you will, a human looking thing coming to talk to you.  A casual comment or conversation instigated by it.    It's defense is voice activated.  When you speak to it, its primary operation comes into play.

I mention these things from dreams and realities.  I have been tortured so much by the USA governments and I have been abused by criminals in Canada and the border patrol of Canada at certain points.  I believe this world is a hostage and we the humans are nothing more than slaves to what I call the "IT" factor.

Now, let's play a game. 

You are at the Canadian border patrol.  Canada, that place where rum was sold in prohibition.  Canada, that place where marijuana is sold at half the cost of California's cannabis clubs today.  Canada is nothing more than a syndicate waiting to perch down on the USA and eat us alive.

After all, Canada is more an extension of Europe than the USA.  The European mindset is to devour, or perhaps that is the human mindset.  I do not know.  After all, I have wings on my  Magnetic Resonance Images and those wings protrude from my thoracic vertebrae at five points on each side of the thoracic vertebrae.  I do not fit here.  The enemies of my kind call me a cock-eyed Southern gentleman.  I am not cockeyed, I am not Southern.  I am a captive on planet Earth just like all the other humans, without wings.

Back to the weapon.  Imagine a machine, a machine that can project the images or consistency of humans from space.  That is the nature of this machine. You take orders from it, and you call it boss.    You can not tell that it is not human like you. It bleeds like you, you think. 

It takes your mind when you reply to it.  It makes you its slave. 

Imagine now, this thing, this it, this human mirage, at the border patrol.  It has two others follow it around.  They are not like it.  They are different.  They wear the same uniform.  They are somehow different.  They accompany it when it comes to interrogate you.

The Dutchman who came up with the 3-D dimensionalizer is heaven-sent.  He has showed me how the impossible manifestation of it on some level can be manifested.

I do not fear death.  I do not fear war.  The creator has too many caveats for me to deal with.  The creator is an asshole, and at the same time, the creator is a saint.  The creator suffers and so shall you and I.

Bring on the global war.  Bring on the clowns.  The regime can eat my feces.  I see Syria as the next target or perhaps Syria does not exist.  Israel has expanded far enough, unless of course Isreal wants to expand into space, and if so, an equal neighbor in space should be made for those displaced Palestinians, our other brothers, just as we in America, us bastard children of the other nations deserve a place in space also.  The creator does not go by the name of God, alone.  The creator is indefinable.

WE all know right from wrong. If you think you are human, then you can act humane toward humans.  If you think you are another animal, you can eat humans, but you are still an animal.  You ate.

I have been tortured and ripped off so many times.  I have spoken and seen the horrors.  I tried to flee.  Next stop, ITALY.  I am going home.  I am in search of my divine wife, the one who will bring the child, the child of the creator's will, one whose talons can not be broken or splintered or shattered. One whose blood can not be spilled or defamed by logical men.

America is a lost cause increasingly.  Positive Capitalism is dead it appears.  It was meant to help, but it has rotted to the core and it is now, Negative Capitalism.  I weep for our children. IT has no children among us.

Segment March 21, 2007_SEVERED_head_SEVERED_body_SEVERED_consciousness_WHOLE_Segment March 21, 2007_SEVERED_head_SEVERED_body_SEVERED_consciousness_WHOLE_

One of the thing that frightens me about forced injections, is that part of your being or beings, or all of your being or beings, can not know what has happened to you after the injections.  I have been injected twice that I know of, maybe a third time as I slept.  The first was at the federal USA governments hands on April 23, 2001 at about 4 a.m. PST when I was in fear for my life after an attempt upon it and for owning a legal firearm.  The second time was when I reported what appeared to be hazmat crews in the New Mexico desert and a burn on my neck.  Those injections were at the Flagstaff Medical Center in Arizona and I protested them but I was injected and knocked unconscious and in the end I was robbed of money and likely much more as I will explain.  One guard there said my truck tested positive for radio-activity after I had asked for a Geiger reading of myself and the vehicle.  He seemed to smirk and enjoyed my being caught there, soon to go through a horror I will never forget and I will never forgive.   The third time was as I slept in my cell at the Flagstaff Medical Center Holding Unit, and I am not certain of this one.  I think I was injected in the mouth as I snored and someone held my head.  I may have have been raped, but I am not certain.  I would say there is a 51% probability I was raped physically and a 100% probability that I was raped financially and in another manner I will explain.

I once read in the Bible of a story of a being with many components.  His collective was one in the sense they were like an army or perhaps more appropriately, like a multi-faceted collection of beings that functioned as one most of the time.  I call those beings or components the sentient beings and they are vulnerable to attack when we, the human component, are knocked unconscious with forced injections.  A war of a magnitude we can only guess about could be waged there.  But then again, aren't we in the creator's mind.    The creator begins with components A and A-prime, delineated as A and  A'.  A and A' are in friction from the beginning.  It is one of the ways the creator feels.  The creator is a bizarre manifestation to us.  The ultimate in life and death, or I should say, the ultimate in consciousness.

For instance, I had a dream that awakened me tonight.  I was among a group of soldiers or men.  We had been fighting or had become dismembered and cut to pieces.  It reminded me of the feeling I had recently in which a sentient being was slumping over on me and trying to wriggle back onto the main human body of consciousness.  My loving counterpart in the war had lost his arms and legs.  I remember being in a battle in my mind and carrying this being when he was not carrying me.  Inexorably tied, impossibly united.

In the dream, the soldiers were at one time part and in each part was a greater whole.  As the struggle or time past, we soon found ourselves, myself included, cut into smaller and smaller pieces.  We lay  there at first, some of us standing, missing arms and legs.   Then, as the dream or the battle progressed, we soon found ourselves, myself included, laying on the ground with no arms and no legs, all of the extremities dismembered. 

We soon lay there in the blood and severed pain, as in an explosion, with only our heads.  Some of us were alive or all of us at least partially.  I remember wanting to grab a grenade and detonate it to finish our suffering.  But I could not, because when I died, I was still there, once again as the whole, watching the whole gruesome spectacle.

This event of severed heads brings back memories of a  time I was in forced exile by the regime in power in Alabama, California, and the Federal government.  I had been forced to live in California and it was around early March if I  recall correctly.  I had demanded to be released out of Los Angeles County, even though it was still further punishment for what happened in Los Angeles in 2001 and subsequently afterward when I had demanded my right to participate in government in Mobile Alabama, which I am denied to this day.  I even had a thieving Sheriff terminated for stealing food funds there eventually in 2005.  Sheriff Jack Tillman, no longer with us in his tin-horned Star.  Anyway, I was poisoned there when a type of fruit grove truck drove by my window and sprayed poison as I was exiting the shower and bathroom upstairs.  My apartment was number 4 I believe, or the innermost one, or one of a series of apartments off of an alleyway  near Church Street and A Street in Eureka California.

The poison made me sick for days.  I washed my eyes out immediately afterward but my bedding was wet with it downstairs and I did not know it.  It was as if someone had sprayed it.  I laid down not knowing it was coated.  I had dreams similar to a Lupus sufferer, or I should say dreams that followed the wolf.  There, in one of those dreams, were the severed heads on a grid, each connected at first in the experimental phase, as if arranged on a metal bed frame and connected with wires.  In the more advanced version, there were hundreds if not thousands, each head arranged symmetrically on a grid.  It was the closest thing I can imagine to Hell.  The person who appeared to be in charge sat at a chair and was indifferent, seemingly believing they were of a higher religious order.  I think they were pretending to be something they were not.

So now, after years of travel, never staying anywhere, living frugally and yet with enough food, I look to the creator, that Lott in the sky, and ask between the stars and I of this Lott, "What hath Heaven and Hell wrought".  When will I or we achieve justice, or is this it?  I should not complain I suppose.  I want to take revenge against those who inject us and make us suffer and lie to us and who are like the man or being in the dream who was in charge of the grid of severed heads.  I want to toss him outside and finish the job that the soldiers and I needed to be whole again.  The second prime, once again, in totality, A' or is it A? You tell me.

I should have been Sheriff of that community in Mobile, and likely will be some sort of watchdog in the extremities. I will not steal your food. I was poisoned as a child, many of us were. I often wonder if the innoculatins as a children make us poisioned. I almost died from it I believe. Convulsions and high fevers for years. It can lessen your cognitive abilities, but it can create cognitive superiority in some fevered battle states. For every action there is always, an equal and opposite reaction, even if you do not see it. Just like A and A' .

To this day, I hate the sound of a train. It reminds of another dream or a reality or memory recall. Bodies of dead innocents being carried away, dead human bodies, with women and children included. Is there a final supper? Who caters it? A collective I would imagine. Great Scott, its Brenda With Her Spoon. See the song on the Home Grown Music page which is linked on the home page of Mobile Audit Club as of today. Fleeting, ephemeral today.

Segment March 18, 2007 FORCED_inoculations_FORCED_injections_PLANNED_caste_SETTING_FORCED_inoculations_FORCED_injections_PLANNED_caste_SETTING_

Recently I have become aware of new methods of caste setting through the planned retardation of the true intellectual ability of groups of intelligent beings.  I call this master plan, PLANNED CASTE SETTING.

The forced injections and inoculations of the populations of groups of individuals is how this can be done, and it likely has been done for a long time in the United States of America and other nations.  We are not all allies in this world.  We are not all allies in the United States.  I would never attack a man to steal his land or oil.  I would never attack a man who my enemy had told me lies about.  The USA regime in power, those who gave us the horrors of Vietnam and the forced experiments and forced injections of veterans and government informants and the deaths of innocent banking regulatory officials, have not only stole land for oil and they have not only done forced injections and experiments and murders of innocents Americans, but there is a master plan in place through inoculations and forced injections of our children and our teenagers.

Most Americans are ignorant of the technicalities of the immune systems of individuals and they are also ignorant of the treacherous nature of the beasts ruling the United States.  We should help our international allies to overcome them, through death or dismemberment.  WE are not allies.  I am not a Sheep.  You are not a sheep.  Educate yourself about the USA regime in power and you will educate yourselves about their most insidious members -- The Enemies of everyone who is not their kind, whatever they or IT is.

I encourage you not to allow your children to be immunized by USA government or hospital officials.  I encourage you to use natural ingredients promoting health and good nutrition and natural defenses.  We must always beware of the fact that our population can be poisoned, as with polio.  In that manner our enemies make us line up for their injections.

I had severe convulsions as a child and ran high fevers and although my languages skills were sufficient, my mathematical skills were often lacking.  I believe that the high fevers I had as a child thwarted my development in those areas, just as many other children of our groups who were given the Dip-Tet inoculations and other injections.  

We should move if possible to have communities of our people, self sufficient in the training of their children, with farms of organically grown food products for our people.  We should view the USA government as containing the IT factor, our enemies.  We should also be aware that in our communities the IT factor could have directly sent their own spies and agents to contaminate us and our people.  We should be aware also that the IT factor may not be as human as we are, and they are definitely not as humane.  For instance, I have not killed anyone or even harmed anyone, yet they and IT kill at will and seem to self glorify.  They call us insane, but then again, what else can they or IT do when people break from the ranks of the Sheep, or the simple thinking beings among them.

Most recently I noticed another trend.  Forced injections of our young women in the guise of protecting them.  They are liars in my opinion.  Any government official who even hints of forced injections should be executed is also my opinion.

Young teenage girls were going to be forcibly injected in California according to AB 16.   The man who or beast who proposed this is likely part of the IT factor who has a hidden agenda.  Ed Hernandez (D) of West Covina was the author who presented it ( If the link of the pig who proposes the rape of young girls with needles is removed, try this one.. Who else is involved?.   I have found that Georgia is also proposing the forced injections.    Senator Don Balfour of Snellville Georgia proposed the same thing in Georgia.

 I, Kurt Brown, alias Saint Ram Bone,  a former FDIC bank examiner who survived an attempt on my life for becoming an informant, was forcibly injected and tortured in Los Angeles, near West Covina and our enemies in power sanctioned it in 2001.  I was later held and forced to become a target by our enemies in power.  For three years I suffered and when I tried to escape to Canada on the fourth year, legally, the California and federal government lied.   I can now leave, but I have dug in now.  I want to help my people, whether in peace or war.  I want war with them or IT, but I know we need technological tools that may be impossible to obtain.  If we should die in global war, it is better than being their sheep, as they or IT is a beast, a beast  who has casinos robbing the naive, drug dealer syndicates controlling our youth, and they have strangled us from cradle to grave, and their caste setting is meant to be permanent.  Their federal union has numerous government agencies.  The Union has federal agencies that are nothing more than tools for our enemies.   The union I speak of is the NTEU and their federal syndicates and their federal agencies.  They are killing the innocent and honorable among the agencies of the federal government.  WE may be uncounted for in any of their ranks.

 I was injected again in 2004 in Flagstaff Arizona under their Chapter 36 law (link showing 36-520 through other parts of law) which states that no on can be held liable.  Tell that to our soon to come  military technological affront aimed at  their heads.  I may have been raped in retaliation by those money laundering syndicates of the West Coast and the federal government when I was held captive and knocked unconscious there..   I was a Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation (FDIC) bank examiner, or auditor of banks.  The FDIC is a federal agency and is not a corporation.  A regional FDIC director in my office in San Francisco was killed and labeled suicide in the early 1990's.  He was pushed aside for some of the most cruel and savage bastards and bitches I have ever met.  I have been blackballed from federal employment.  I now seek out my army internationally.  The NTEU syndicates even control the FDIC but you will not see their name in the list of agencies they represent.  I encourage new American militias to set up independent unions in the federal agencies controlled by the NTEU and to target the syndicate known as the NTEU and their union officers in the federal agencies.  They have violated the rule of collusion due to the expanse of the NTEU which came to extreme power when Nixon was impeached.

In another matter, those same war criminals in power have appointed judges who are court ordering children to take drugs, drugs that have not been proven, and we can never be certain of what cocktails they are actually brewing for our children.

The bottom line is that the USA government is controlled by the criminally insane.  Or perhaps, we are like the prey sought by bigger game.  That is the nature of nature, one animal devours another.  Protect your own, and when the wolves of the regime, the IT factor, are detected or show up at your door, send out a messenger to deal with them in the old world way.  No remorse, no regrets, mercy only as in the dictates of the wild.

The war never ends is old knowledge.  WE are surrounded by our enemies and by their or IT's sheep in the United States.

Segment March 15, 2007_GLOVES_off_BLINDERS_off_GLOVES_off_BLINDERS_off_GLOVES_off_BLINDERS_off

In true fashion of many who claim to be able to discern the true nature of our existence, whether miserable or not, and to try to make sense of it, I have come upon my own  theoretical observations.

First, as Edgar Allen Poe said, "Life is but a dream within a dream", or more aptly a nightmare if you live in our current era of mass media lies, government bullying, and the basic ripping apart of all hope and safety and security of the people of the world like ourselves.

So, I see that life is perceived first as being true and then in hindsight as being false per the moment of observation.  The synapses in our brains allegedly have gaps.  Gaps that transmit the chemicals that allow the decoding of the observation of our senses with the apparent world around us can be and probably are manipulated in most if not all cases.

I have been through my own trauma or awakening of these facts, first as a child born into a family and a world wrecked by hardship and trauma and violence, and second, as an adult thrown into the moray of a fight for our very survival with men and women who are more like beasts and machines, in that they have no qualms in killing, torturing, and imprisoning innocent men and women.  The United States is a dung heap waiting to be set ablaze, as you can tell by the decadent abuses of the simple minded, including casinos everywhere, drug dealer syndicates, and a federal government whose goals are more synchronous with a machine set on destruction than in preservation of our people and our beings as a species.

Therefore, I have glimpses of the framework from which this nightmare has sprung.  I fear for my children, in particular those who are at the bottom of the social hierarchy in terms of wealth and those tagged by a society that is deficit, as being in deficit.  That is the nature of the illusion of the USA governments.  They call all who challenge their abuses insane or criminal, while they themselves, from where ever and what ever they have sprung, are more criminal and insane than any humans in my family or acquaintances.

The framework which I will discuss is something more of the permanent life.  We talk of the after life, but this life is the illusion.  It is not permanent.  It is a nightmare with glimpses of a dream.  The framework is there and it lurks behind this life, in ways that are far too complex and huge for us or myself to see in its entirety. 

I feel that some will find out about pieces of this framework and maybe even utilize it to their temporary advantage in this primordial nightmare known as life on planet Earth and these damned United States.

Like a bubble or film of oil from a larger framework, this life springs forth.  I watch and wait for our enemies in the United States to be crushed.  But we have been deceived  and we may be waiting for the impossible.  Perhaps it is their construct that is like the trap.  Capitalism is dead in my opinion.  It's ideals had sound qualities at the start, but they were perverted with drugs, gambling, and parisitism not only by industry, but by government.  For instance, I have been told that now the USA government is charging a substantial amount for a passport.  We should be able to leave this damned nation with paperwork for virtually nothing.  But criminals in power in the USA government are making themselves rich.  They are likely not even Americans, or most surely not Americans of virtue who gouge us and imprison us.

In the end, I want the USA government, with their forced injections and murder and sanctioned drug and gambling syndicates ripped out by the roots and stomped into the soils and rocks, until their flesh is made into the grapes and cherries in yet another grapes and cherries debacle for the flies of their own wrath.

Never again serve or trust anything with the USA Governments or most likely many if not all governments.  It is not that hard to take over a planet or even a solar system if you control the outer rings or the entire realm.

I made a mistake serving the USA military.  I should have protected my children and myself from those damned beasts.  The people of Afghanistan are our poor brothers now bludgeoned.  I have to trust the mass media for what I am told on some of this.  If they see evil, I see the victims of the USA government's aggressions. 

As one Secret Service agent told me, a former FDIC bank examiner who witnessed corruption and murder attempts by the regime in power, "The Trust Is Gone".  My response is, "No Sh!t", and so is the USA Treasury, if it ever existed.  New York is a cesspool, not because of the people, but something has gone wrong beyond the framework, and Capitalism is about to take a back seat for this new thing. 

I urge my people to view themselves as Roman Combatants or Sicilians combating the Romans and crippled and cruel Roman Catholic Church.  We exist in an age of lies and deceptions.  Wrap technology around your fists and beat the living hell out of all who challenge us.  Perhaps the creator will awaken as we toss and turn in this nightmare, this bubble of life, beyond the framework that is the progenitor thereof.

 

 

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