Mobile Audit Club

Love Line 4, Science and Comedy

All segments are outline with words connected across the top and are written on different dates. I will date them henceforth.

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This page and the other Love Line Pages has multiple sections with comedy and science, so skip a section if it is not what you are interested in. The Daily Foreword Notes Page also has science materials.


I noticed a strange and sensitive area at the top of my sternum, which is the bone that runs the center of your ribs, from mid-stomach to the base of the throat. I thought it felt like a cigarette burn at first, but it may be an incision or suture scar, and how it got there I do not know, but it was placed there since my abduction by the federal government in 2001 or my employment with them in 2000.

What could it be? Many things in a worst case scenario. Perhaps a tracer or something to allow opening to the heart or lungs for a tracking device or some other controlled release chemical to bring about death at a young age.

I had a strange incision in my mouth that became infected after 2001, after my release from their confinement and jail. I went to a doctor later in Los Angeles who said it was a suture scar and I could not explain where it came from. I had gone to a court in Alabama where I was extorted of over $2000 and forced not to raise my voice in 2004. Due to the predicament I was in due to forced exile I had to accept Judge McMaken's judgment of not evening acknowledging their Open Meetings Law is a lie, but I was told I could enter the building and film which turned out to be a lie. See my video, "Mess with dirt". I also developed a huge blood clot in my sinuses and it came to my mouth the night of the court hearing with McMaken in Mobile Alabama in Mid 2004. My attorney, Brutkiewicz, told me not to enter the court room, i.e. do not speak or ask for rights. Those fascist pigs of the universe want us silenced. I want them silenced and removed, eternally. One dentist who looked at my dental work told me I should have had a rear tooth pulled that was put there by the military. He said the back tooth was black from the work and looked like electronics.

We can not trust the regime. Pull your children out of their schools. Throw their television antennae and cable away and I would even reluctantly allow children to watch educational media from it, due to the fact that our enemies controlled the entertainment and mass media education conglamerates.

Particularly read of my warnings concerning the prenatal development of children and the birthing of them on other love line pages of recent construction, or those segments therein.

I recently saw a young woman who was pregnant. She said, "Look at my stomach" and pointed at the quadrant where the head would have been near. "It has a blue mark".

I did not think anything of it, perhaps a blood vein, but now I would not be surprised if something is not done to children before they are born by the enemy, who can often travel unseen. It looked like a bruise, deep and unusual.

I fear the USA government for good reason, they are my terrorists, at least some factions of them. I want them to pay for their crimes against myself and others. They held me for a million dollars ransom, forcibly injecting me, and then I was abused for years and forcibly injected and knocked unconscious in Arizona at a state facility when I was horrified of something while traveling when I was in forced exile by our enemies in power.

They claim to do me a favor by giving me a disability check but I am not allowed to work or I lose the check, and yet they will not hire me as a bank examiner at the treasury or as an accountant for the Navy, where I once served. Our enemies rule. I want an eye for an eye. DO UNTO OTHERS AS THEY DO UNTO YOU, therefore by that statement I should hold them for one million dollars ransom and make them bleed in horror, but I am not that cruel, I am a humane and merciful soldier and humane man. If I did pursue that route, I would ask for the money, and if not received, execute sentence, humanely and quickly as a man of war of the true humane conscience in the battlefield of this life, Le Guerrere infinitum--The War Eternal.


Tonight, I treated myself to something rather rare, a nice meal in an upscale restaurant in Marin County, the wealthiest county in California. Unfortunately I dined by myself, and fortunately I paid half as much as I would have if someone else had dined with me. That is not the point of this true comedy with a wistful twist.

As I dined on my Ahi Tuna crusted with sesame seed, I was sitting at a bench with my back to the wall so I could face the crowd. In front of me was a Marin County resident, a man in his 30's with long black straight hair, with a sheen that would be the envy of any woman in its kemptness. He was sitting with two women, both of whom seemed to be average women.

As I ate, I noticed he was sucking on rotten fruit juice that had fermented into alcohol and he held it debonaire, swirling it and posturing.

As I got up to leave, I noticed that he had noticed my close knit hair cut, one that I inherited and then accentuated with a razor shave. He held his hands up in a praying manner and leaned forward, as one would salute a buddhist monk.

That is the Marin County way of the lesser men, those who take risk taking behaviors to insult others in front of women they try to impress.

As I left I tried to ignore the man, but I must admit that this is one of those weeks I fantasize about war and comedy in war. So as I drove I thought about the movie, Silence of the Lambs

What Hannibal Lecter would have done is waited for him in the parking lot with a large sword and meat cleaver. He would have whacked him with the sword and taken the head off with the meat clever. Then he would have taken the head home, removed the hair, and had a wig for this bald head.

Hannibal would have flipped the glossy black hair hat with his hands, feeling the Prell-like freshness.

In the car on the way home, I imagined Hannibal with his hair hat and the young man's credit cards. Habib at the deli and liquor store would have questioned Hannibal in his new hair hat and stolen credit cards.

Habib: "You do not have brown eyes Mr. Bobo and you are surely not 160 pounds".

Hannibal: "I gained weight and I have on Blue Contact Lenses".

Habib in the end would not fall for such nonsense. However at the Safeway Grocery store in Marin County California, where everything is marked down to half price on the shelf but is full price at the counter, Hannibal would buy cartfuls and cartfuls of fine cheeses, wines, and stuffed pastries and fine meats and every nonsense thing on the shelf that was overpriced and overstocked, and he would not complain and the clerk would accept the credit card and the ID given to him, only noting the lovely Prell-Like Sheen to the hair.

I admire Hannibal in that man's wig, primping in front of the mirror at home with his usundries, wine, and everything imaginable, buying to his heart's content for days on end on those credit cards, all that he wanted.

The reality is though, that I laugh in my saddest moments. All has been stripped from me, except the desire for war to regain all that our kind has lost. I will soon leave Marin County and California, and I urge my people to never come here, unless in full battle armament, and to leave the USA when young and educate themselves when younger. The nature of life is warfare.



When I looked back at history at the cruelty and savagery of intelligent men upon intelligent men, I wondered about mankind. How could mankind accept slavery? How could mankind kill an entire city with a nuclear bomb? How could mankind be so cruel to another without even knowing them, including every group going into another groups village in antiquity and killing fathers and brothers and raping women and girls? Now I have a theory. I would not be surprised if in much if not all of history there was an element foreign to mankind. One that did not feel his suffering and tears coming from his women and children. One who did not feel anything for our kind, intelligent thinking beings. We may have been conned. They might not even be human or possibly could be projected in, or perhaps I am insane for dreaming that mankind has a heart. I certainly do, until I am attacked, and then I become another being, that dark primitive carnivore who rolls his eyes back in his head and chews until the opponents gives, dies, or takes over in my death. I feel that fight is now as I look to the sky over my prison world and that of much of my family, the Damned United States of my lifetime and my parents lifetime and theirs and theirs, etc.. I do not believe that mankind does those cruel things to mankind by himself. He is tricked and maneuvered and sometimes out of the picture entirely. I theorize below on these matters.

The solution before equation is thus: Like an infinite loop with feedback, we intercept the loop and spin whatever we want into it in feedback on the way up. We use the enemies strengths to become his weakness. The problem is, if our enemy is projecting from space, even though he is slower, he can have us surrounded. I think something more like a claw could tear at his fabric, or lie, but that is just the rudimentary appearance. We bring him down to size and then we, we take the skies and the heavens with humane judgment. If we can not there is another layer that will dictate our demise and molting back to the worms, and to begin again, this primitive nightmare. Saturn may have had humans like myself who look back, analyze, and take over. There may be no way out in the end. That is life if so. I apologize to all those peoples any of my ancestors have hurt who were ordered to follow those shallow yet intelligent beings not of humane flesh and I feel for those who have suffered. We are one. We are humans. We are and were the original humans, that I like to think of as, "The Many Tribes of Earth, not just Israel, as that was just a crossroads, one of many", and that includes Palestinians and all other races, black and white and yellow and red and those that hide now or who have left and those with wings and fins or remnants thereof. Have some gone mad? Have some evolved to the point that we are viewed as the lesser animals in the field? If so, let us pray for our extinction so we do not feel, anymore than the lesser animals in the field. Some buddhists may argue there are no animals that do not feel. I too wonder about that, but this is a primitive existence where we eat almost everything that springs from earth and sky, especially when we are hungry. Our earthly governance has spoiled, especially in the USA, and we need a full scale cleansing, perhaps it will be all of our deaths in this flesh, perhaps for eternity. Who cares about fascist dope dealers like those in San Francisco and the DEA office and the NTEU on the Texas and Mexican border and at the ports around the Americas? Who cares about the liquor merchants on every corner of the USA? Who cares about that enemy element of propagandists who sell us liquor and dope and predatory gambling operations through mass media and movies? I do not care for them and see them as lesser animals, not worthy of existence unfettered and unchased. I sometimes admire the muslim who reaches into his pocket and slits the throat of those who do those things to who his own kind because they not only attack him but especially his naive young. I want to give them a bigger baton and point to Hollywood and the local liquor merchant with their fancy liquor bottles in open display and the Drug dens, etc. etc.

In contemplating the past and those moments where I thought I was different than others to the point that we were different animals, and to the point now that I suspect at times a projecting in of matter or delusion of matter and my and our opponent.  I speak of my and our as in the flesh, true humans, not of any particular race, but of the true flesh, of the here and now.  This is pure conjecture and theory and other theoreticians physicists and super elementary card players and visionaries of the war weapons used against our kind in the flesh, the here and now may have to explore this idea further.

I am speaking of the response time that will allow us to test those or it around us.  A time delay exists when projecting a response from space or the phase of phase fields.  For instance, imagine a being or a simulation of a being or even a tricking of your mind to have you see something or someone.  If there is any delay whatsoever, and you are aware of it, you will be able to test that person or being.  Of course, there is always the possibility their response time could be slow due to the synapses of their brain being configured so that they are naturally slower, either due to birth shape or due to brain damage.

This is a common sense test and we have seen it on game shows, and even the stupid could simulate a quick pre-calculated response, knowing they would not know the answer.  As long as they beat the other to the buzzer or across the start line, their illusion of being in the flesh could be simulated. 

The test I propose is thus:  Have people or persons line up and tell them to push a button as soon as a light turns green and not before.  Under no circumstance are they to press the button before the light turns green.  If they do, they are disqualified and automatically made suspect, and tell them that on the third try, if they hit the response button before the light turns green they will be executed.  That would stop any intelligent life from beyond from faking a response in this test.  A long drawn out time could elapse before the light turns green or a short time.  It would not matter as long as the true humans stayed alert and cognizant.  Their minds are there and the only time difference for them is the time it takes for the visual image or light to move at the speed of light, strike the retina of the human eye, and then most importantly, the time it takes for the visual stimuli to be processed by the occipital lobe of the brain and for the frontal lobe to coordinate a reaction in the other parts of the brain to press the button. 

If anyone or thing was at a remote distance, either controlling an individual or if that individual was simulated or if that individual was made to be a figment of your imagination, it would take time for those response times to be transmitted between the controller of that individual or apparition at a distance and the time it takes for them to respond, at least twice as long.  I noticed this effect when I was playing football as a child.  Some of the players were slow to respond to the hiking of the ball, or the moving from the center to the quarterback.  The rule was thus: as soon as the ball moved, you could knock the offensive lineman down.  I was given several penalty flags and I always played by the rule and the ball was always in the quarterbacks hands or on its way when I pushed the lineman.  I actually had to delay my attack until it was in the hands of the quarterback to keep from getting the penalty flag.

This is our opponents weakness.  We can test a group of individuals and those who are absurdly slow will be suspect.  The USA government has likely been taken over. The world  may be in that complete state of seizure.  If so, we will have the delay effect in time in our favor in identifying those of our flesh and those who are not in ridding ourselves of the enemy to mankind.

We should be free from the planet, have space colonies, and living harmoniously, but we are not.  We are imprisoned, robbed, and enslaved and degraded by those same government and corporate controlled entities who are supposed to help us.  The saying today about them is that they grease us up, which means they allegedly help us, and then they screw us hard, meaning they then turn upon us and subjugate us into the eternal lower caste.  India has a caste system or did and their behavior is entrenched to the point that many of them accept their plight.  I accept nothing.  We accept nothing.  We may have to design our defense systems to counteract it or them or we may have to learn to use our own minds to control those things beyond our apparent flesh. Perhaps greater beings or a being is observing, but the question becomes do we help ourselves or wait to see if we deserve or warrant help and assistance in this or these matters. 

Creator we pray to the outer realm, help us stave off the suffering of our kind, even if it means our complete destruction as can be seen in the collapse and puncture of the planet the humans of Earth now call Saturn, crushed and pulverized with its oceans in the outer rings, frozen solid with other humans who may have fought back against the imprisoning force of things or beings or men with no conscience in intelligent beings abuse and subjugation.  Do not fear death.  It is better than life in a living Hell as many of us experience in this flesh, in this world. 

Some say Israel should be boycotted (the Canadian federal union CUPE voted for this, and I wonder about the structure of that union just like the NTEU) for apartheid and stealing land.  But, there is likely a mix of human flesh on both sides of the wall, and they have been deceived.  That is the nature of this enemy.  He or it moves among you, lubricates you good, and then crushes you.  I no longer salute the American flag of the United States.  The regime that is in power has betrayed me and our kind.  I may want it or its controllers head sent to me in the space colonies, and I may not want to see it, only its constituent elements in atomic form, separated, so that it can be analyzed and the extract of certain unique materials known so it can be detected when its progenitor shows up the next time with ashes to claim from us in the war time.  Do not fear death as even that is not what you think it is.  Stench of dead flesh smells like grapes of harvest to the flies, which is just another part of the greater consciousness or the greater illusion or delusion.



In orders of mixed magnitude in orders of differentiation, there is always the probability of miscalculation or misrepresentation in analogous instruments, digital instruments, and the obvious sabotage.

Therefore in analyzing and preparing for war, one eventually calculates in the unknown percentage of self destruction, akin to looking at one's self in the mirror of a reflexive wall and firing.   One builds or one miscalculates.

Which brings up my next point of differentiation in the group and obvious maleficent design and malfeasance.   Our society has run amuck.  To what is the total to which we stare in some obvious continuums, the racial syndicates, the bizarre amalgamation of grunting us and them.  To which do I belong is the question, because in a dieing capitalistic society, one in which the working poor are robbed in verbatim of all stock holder and retirement quantities.  We see the wheat and then we eat chafe.

Is it possible to separate the core and differentiate outward?.  We see it in our ancestry from beyond like a reflective light on our surface, yet we tear at it like a wall, in time ad continuum, instead of utilizing those energies for the finer design, which brings up conflict.  I would rather build space colonies with those nations beyond than rip at the sinew of life created, the artwork of the higher form of sorts.  

The question becomes, at what point do I contend and where.  I wonder. Is it possible to hasten the appearance of man on a smaller continuum than the usual time scale of life? Or more importantly from a stragic and lesser minded devouring concept, is it possible to slow and hasten the rate and appearance of ones being to therefore be in four places and faces at once, in particular if the first face is allowed an option of the fourth of the final three. The tree of one.

They hook you up to needles and then call you insane, but that you is I, why? I swear.  Why wonder.  Why eat chafe while we eat shaft.  What is ETNU is the NTEU and the other loose skip screws.  FDIC shee-it Sueet Carolin wonder ain't no Wonder Woman and little boy wonder.

Sex is the obvious miscalculation of the higher order because one takes over the wonder is over.

The scariest part about all of this is that you can look and find that noboby is there, that you have been swallowed. But does it matter as long as you enjoy the finest things in life. Tender love and care. Betrayal is a sinister concept that leaves a blood trail for the beginning forms in the obbvious first miscalculations and reflections upon our greater universal, allegedy scientifically proven brain shaped walls or a loaf of bread in the theoretical physics continuum. Kurt is all mixed up, set him down a clay pot with his pot belly dubloons. Irish stew and a passport out of this cage.


Having contained what I will call "Quick Silver" in a zero gravity and fluid-like mercurial state, suspended in motion, a transition within quickly bonding and retractive elements to follow dimensional lines in a multi-dimensional matrix, and therefore a simulated human, like those appearing in USA governments and courts who deny us all rights and drain us of life and property.    The mathematical and physical  properties below give the  basic design.

A Judge McMaken in Mobile Alabama once allowed the Mobile Alabama City Council to violate the Open Meetings Law in my particular case in 2004.  Later I saw him impose a monetary fine upon a young black woman for a few marijuana butts.  I hope we have a trial for those who have gone for our throats, behind whoever they dwell, when their design has reached its end for us.  Metal roofed buildings and buildings of electro-magnetic conductivity should be re-designed and all metal exteriors and points returned to the shipyards.


Updated August-22-2005: In consideration of the weapons dismantler or at least the latest new age machine used against us, in consideration of what I experienced in the Mobile Alabama Government Plaza lobby and in Los Angeles Superior Court, in the Downtown Los Angeles vicinity and Airport Court near LAX.  In particular Mobile Alabama as I have studied it and its inhabitants further.  After all, I was in chains in Los Angeles, after I had served in their country's military on that soil.  Or is that correct?  On with shoe, a really really big show. This weapons dismantler applies to the weapon proposed at the top of the Love Line 3 page. ( It is At top as of date of this publising. You are on Love Line4. Go to Home Page for Link).

Mathematically, the progression of jumping as is demonstrated on central nervous systems neurons (animation), I direct your attention to this progression of spinning triangular cubes.  It is from within this framework  you find the outer perimeter of X magnitude in density, which I will address next.  Demonstration online of this first axiom in the theory.  Run Animated Demonstration.

Next, we must consider movement to every point, just as much as every atom in every cell in our body, including the methods of the non-sensory hair.  To this I direct your attention to one component, the Golden ratio as it relates to the Fibonacci Theory.  My dog Bow-Bone is seeking alley cat in the equilateral triangle, and so am I, Rickety Copper's pick for Sheriff.

Another component is to split hairs or knot split hairs.  3-D component graphic link.  Is that Dustin Huffman in the Triangle? Pic.

I once considered a guitar string, its vibration muted to another component when wrapped in a tape on a finger width section, and the fret or its board moved closer to the string or vice-versa, so as to not make the wrapping too thick.  Therefore new calculations or situations.

I would like to direct attention to the source of  many of my inspired speculations to this theory.  A true technological and artistic Van Gogh of our era to which I want to express thanks.  I have yet to pronounce his name, but I really like his manifestation of objects from what some would call the ether and I hear he has returned to, "The Place".  It is more like a soup in the hands of some, and like a bread and dough in some others, and who knows in the other or others.  The little pearl is the 3 D Dimensionalizer.

Randomization of frequency of wavelength in a controlled area and areas with interesting phenomena observed, or the stretching of the cat who is always keeping its eye on the ball, or perhaps a stick has gone through the poor thing and stretched it to the point of being a buzzard puking.  Of course, at some point sacred geometry if used is overcome by a higher common sense.  Many lessons, some successful if used in right conjunction in getting the noose from one's neck.  Some things are by design and they can not be broken.  Get used to it.  That is life. Forever over the rainbow.

Of course the logarithmic spiral coupled with the Fibonacci numbers in a simulated or conversely actuated environment, is tongues of fun.  In reality as simple as the Fibonaccia numbers.  And of course, real time animated uses are more difficult to ascertain. 

So you can say, "You mess with us, it looks like a gosh danged bed spring hit you in the mouth".  Of course, there are no sacred sheep under each increasing sun, so watch your shit covered ass as the damn thing kicks in both directions.  Which reminds of the joke of someone looking for divine Will and sneaking behind everyone's back in their family and shouting they had found him.   A very funny guy, except for the shit on my or your or their boots or beastly tracks, which turned out to be dog shee-it ( shit ) stinking up the whole house and making the true tenant very angry. Which brings up the question, why was the dog let in in the first place. Crystal does not like dogs or dog shit in the house. It is just the shit that bothers me if the dogs are clean. Dr. Boils says they shit on the bushes and are the filthiest creature in the world."

Another funny joke, 51% accurate not funny or even worth dirt brown, is the idea that a genetically modified Red Heifer born in Israel may have significance under Hebrew dogma.  For one thing, clones of any animal are never like the parent in entirety and are substantially more weak.  In like kind, the manipulation of genes by man or beast to produce a Red Heifer, of divine origin, is most likely absurd by logical analysis.

The orientation of the constituent atoms are inaccurate compared to the first grid and therefore weak and folding under pressure when compared to the true perfection.  Of course, I doubt everything except the voice of reason, and that is subject to interpretation and evaluation in a real time environment, here or there.  The most interesting thing to me now is that our limits to the space we know in outer space, are allegedly the shape of a loaf of bread.  I said it looks like a brain.  Whose insane if war is insane.  W is for Wino in my opinion.  S in the rectangular form or pattern is the only way I know.  Two sides of a flipped coin, always, sometimes landing on any edge or point also.

The previous post or oral framework is listed below.

In considerations of how to stay safe, in light of the fact that a gun is useless in the real battles, and the nuclear bomb is of limited use in what some would call a more primitive state.  What is most ironic is that when some kill others, they find they have killed themselves, instantaneously, not even realizing the tables changed.  I think it has something to do with the Fibonacci numbers, but in a more circumscribed pattern, to the inverse and at a rate and complexity incalculable to the common human mind.

In devising weapons of defense, at some point the destructive ones become useless because of the apparent primitive inverse.  At worst, a howling dog wakes up.  I remember walking down a public dirt road and about to be attacked by a barking large dog in the pitch black night and I cracked his skull with a piece of asphalt.  I hated to have had to hurt him, but I had no choice.

In finding those things that shatter the windows of our lives, it often becomes an awakening of a higher conscious, something I describe.  After all, is it not all of us all of the time, do or die?

The red herring is elusive and usually a distraction, unless you  can smell rot and tell the difference in sweat.

Remote control on many levels, all connected may be how some governments stay in power.  I was looking at a picture of the Son of Gabriel linked on the Quatrain 3 page linked at the top of the Home Page of this website.  It was on a wood board and on its back is the message S carved in.  It is not an S but is shaped more square and shows the mechanistic trench of life.  It is all fairly simple really.

In search of those machines incapaciating their machines emulating fake humans, humans without hearts, I search for the answer. One such tool is what I call the "Snatch" effect. Pulsating currents directed to point x short of y, looped back infinitely to an increasingly closer point in between and a concurrent spiral up at extreme magnetic force, with leverage created through differentiations in space and stammered time and inexact and exact and random control pressures exacted in the circuitous fashion.  Snatch One.  Get off of my blue suede shoes or brown shit covered boots.


Methodologies in matter and transitions under the watchful eye.  Due to the funneling nature of the machine which I visualized using the framework of a concept of the artwork known as the 3-D dimensionalizer in a faraday cage, except using higher tech apparatus and physics to emulate the faraday cage, I have seen where there may be problems under the watchful eyes.  For instance, to speculate, although I would never assign a probability to this statement, imagine you see two people with their backs to you, their hair and no face, in the interim flux-state.  Once through the funnel a duplicate image may be provided with a transition from one party to another.  Welcome to the house of mirrors.  My theoretical Pandora's Box in the Village of the Damned.  It looks like a huge pipe split and sat on top--scrap metal then, scrap metal now.

They want us marching down the road, smoking their shit. It makes us die quicker and them richer. The white Adornments on the inside of the building are our ropes, for our necks, splintering our brains or at least the taking our lives, perhaps by gun, perhaps by all of the latest trickery in the worm filled world of warfare by these illusory humans, or people without human hearts.


In consideration of weapons meant to blind, one interesting option is a pin hole in a device held from the corner of the mouth, or from a window or portal in a building, as that is one of my nightmares. Now, if I can just figure out how to cure this infected laser burn in my eye after meeting droid mouth on Fairhope pier, or maybe he just smoked one too many cigarettes and the true laser was in the Mobile County Courthouse vicinity. As the motor head man's mouth cranked with his shiny white porcelain voice box with its pinhole, or maybe it was the NTEU or FDIC or other federal or local criminal assassin, who said, "When are we going to have another jubilee?"

Of course it could just be the "Dog Eat Dog Days of Sumer in the Dog Days of Summer". The probability is 50% on Alabama's coast as's s'well.

Mankind's talent to create and destroy. What is your choice in Mobile Alabama, "Coffee houses, red light district, and casinos to fund bio-engineering, or Hitler's and a few other leaders mummification dream? EADS, Europeans locusts of death


I once knew a genetically engineered odd fellow who could crawl up in the soil and sleep like grub worm for a thousand years, after everything else had vanished.  He was food for a bird motherfucker but so was the bird. A very big headed and corrupt judge in Los Angeles told me to, "Go back to school". He meant, accept the oppression and murder of our enemies in America. I can not wait until that big headed motherfucker comes back with worms munching on his brain. The regime in Alabama has been tampering with children to stunt them. Do not believe all of history. If you suspect a natural enemy of the cosmos in the medical field tampering with you, kill the motherfuckers. We are all dirt.


The cruelest faction of the American regime with the military connections has an electronic device that can deliver a shock to the retina of the eye when viewed in the direction of the shock wave or laser and in addition it destroys electronic equipment.  Encase your cameras to protect them and wear protective eye-wear, and if possible, never have metal fillings in cavities in the teeth. 

I was driving by the military reserve center today in Municipal Park, Mobile Alabama on August 1, 2005 at 3:50 p.m. Central Standard Time when a truck  intercepted mine and  drove in the parking lot of the reserve center to the point of entering the road where it stopped and most likely delivered the shock at a 20 to 30 foot range.   Of course it could be that the federal government installed something in my vehicle when they confiscated or perhaps they have done another atrocity to me that I am not aware.    Of court it could have been what appeared to be a china man in another vehicle in  front of his vehicle at the head of the queue and waiting to pull out and another vehicle had already pulled out and was going West as I was going East.  It appears the local white rabbits and the Chinese dragon might have a love- for- war connection against the local humans with human hearts.   Of course it could be any number of the racist syndicates pulling our enemies strings to attack us.  The older I get, the more I realize the terrorists are not the suicide bombers protecting their lands in the Arab nations, but they are right here pretending to care about our children.  Not all of the people are our terrorists from any group, but some do deserve to reap what they sow, in their own death bed.

 Numerous military transport vehicles were behind the station and other equipment was hidden and covered by tarps at the Municipal Park location.  Probably around 100 to 150 tons of war equipment minimum.   They are also amassing at Whiting Field a contingent of ground troops and equipment.   We should dismantle our enemies even in our hometowns.  Perhaps they will attack EADS in my native city or perhaps they will set off the nuclear device.  I would rather have death than smell their animal breaths and feel their cages, chains, needles, and oppressive tendencies, like that of the lower animal kingdom.  I am sure our creator will snap them into like chafe and start over.


SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY with a note: The mechanically symmetric and functional capabilities of Saturn, the only planet in our Solar System with water in an easily harvestable form, the elixir of life in our biosphere, ice from H20, form in outer circulating bands. 

Considering the density of Saturn, 96 times less than Earth,   and its ice bearing rings, and the manner in which its numerous moons circulate and circulated through the bands collecting the ice, I feel we as the humans of the group outside of the ruling caste, could find refuge and some measure of security if we were given freedom and a bio-engineered world free from this remnant planet Earth, or perhaps freedom from this planted planet Earth, life in a fertile field of planetary bodies, such as Saturn and its ice-fields.

The problem is always the same and the ramifications, more or less.  From large to small, you never know how significant the problem is or the answer posed, unless you know the truths, all of them.

I tend to beware of tampering with those things I am unfamiliar like most.  Perhaps the structure of Saturn is a cell for a higher organism, or the mechanics therein, similar to the electron transport system of a cell within a human or earth life-form body.  However, just as we age, and other organisms are always feeding upon us or with us, so may that organism.  Survival of the fittest is such an ugly thought until you realize it is simply the blade forever being sharpened through decay and growth, constant movement, within a sphere of inertia.

Constant movement through space constitutes our lives from point A to point B, and those who conceived us.  It is in the broken areas we go blind, often in more ways than one, that of perceived death as perceived from this side of the cellular window.

Of course all of the conjecture on the material world which we have no knowledge of ultimate truths, those of us of the lower caste of the world cut from our governments and other arenas of importance, must realize that deception is often a key component of an opponents conquest, particularly if they are the ravenous sort, impervious to others pain and suffering or unable to see that the world is always changing and in like kind, our position in it.  When the universe or universes start to collapse, the probabilities of conflict and growth go hand in hand. 

It seems to make no difference to some.

To test what is out there, I believe it could be done by utilizing measurements of neutrinos and their spin orientations and measurements with calculation of our movement in our planetary bodies factored in at various measurements.  A simplified etch and sketch type of logarithm on a multidimensional plane would likely present images of life and our place in it.  Of course, some may already know many of these things and keep us uninformed. 

My dream is to see space colonies for all, and all free floating.  I see a large amount of truths in the art that I perceive as life within this perceived frame work of the five senses, and maybe the sixth.  Ask Jack Tillman, Sheriff who is murderer and thief, of Mobile Alabama who I was abused by in addition to the abuse of governments in Mobile Alabama and Los Angeles.  4-3-2001,  I met Jack and  4-23-2001 I met his greater rot in Los Angeles on federal property, and then I was put through Hell for being on the run.  Let us have some good old fashioned fun and separate into our four corners.  My prediction is that the East and West coasts of the United States will eventually go for each others throats because we have lost control of our government. 

I am very much like Galileo Galilei, in that I was abused by my government for my beliefs, my known and proven truths, and more importantly my tested and probable discovery of criminals within the federal banking system, and now I believe throughout the federal government, with the huge National Treasury Employees Union being just one example of probable extreme collusion detrimenting our once capitalistic democracy.    I do not compare on the scale to Galileo but I know his suffering.  Many men are like dogs and fit for kennels.  Unfortunately, many times the roles are reversed and the wrong dogs are being thrown into the cage.  We are fit to kill and bid adieu to all enroute to Saturn.

Often when I think of the creator, or our creator of the lower caste, thrown out of our governments worldwide, I picture in a more hopeful sense, a teacher.   One who plays rough with her kittens so they too can feed and survive when her time is done or when she returns to her own social circles. 

To my sweetheart in Manchester, England, stay red. The one(s) in Sonoma, California stay Pink, and to Jack in Mobile Alabama, my personal village of the damned, "The viper left you a message on the bush".  "Tis harvest time".  "Reaping what we sow, reaper".


Comedy: In Hell, proven thief, murderer, and framer of innocent men, Sheriff Jack "Snatch" Tillman and those tin-horns and politicians and bureaucrats like him will have to work in Satan's medical marijuana field in the heat of Summer, in Hell.  Snatch will be given this introductory video to watch upon his arrival in Hell.  He will then be given a beak and tail feathers, get slapped around a bit,  and then put out into the field with the other political bureaucrat fowl.

In this music video you can see the proto-type for Sheriff Snatch and a picture of a bloodied beak on what we were told is Snatch's mug shot.  The video is in streaming windows format and is titled, "Jackson's Heart Shaped Hole".  It is housed on Houston Indymedia and San Francisco's  You can hear the excitement of the less offensive occupants in Hell in Satan's shit brown house when Snatch enters from the fields with Satan's medical marijuana in his clutch.


Weapons and Tools: Speculative Science: A word of warning on America's Interstate system--You travel at your own risk, as numerous weapons and detection and spying apparatus can be deployed at key points utilizing existing terrain and hardware, including and especially the large power transmission towers.   On one junction on Interstate 10 near the Biloxi Mississippi exit, I noticed numerous high power wires crossed at various angles with the familiar triangular shape consisting of at least three towers, all directly above and positioned toward the traffic was a large plate, directional on the side.

By riding in another vehicle behind the vehicle to be attacked, and waiting until it was at the triangular fix point between the towers, equilateral on all sides, the high energy electromagnetic fields could be manipulated and directed in some fashion to render the vehicle to be attacked vulnerable with other tools, such as the combination of high or low radio frequency or some other fashion, including satellite.

Of course the assailants could just launch a pole through your window. Never underestimate that which surrounds you in your daily life to be used as a weapon or tool against you.


Comedy: A tale from a true salt legend, the Pacific Fleet Sailor, Fuzzy Bill of Tuscaloosa Alabama is talking to the Transvestite Prostitute from Hell, Sheriff Jack Snatch of Mob AL. 

Tuscaloosa Bill: "Some may say that sleeping with another man is against kosher ethics and downright sinful."  "The worst thing that ever happened to me was when I was a child in Tuscaloosa when I was run over by a car on my bicycle and got an aluminum plate in my head "  "After being in the US Navy Pacific Fleet a few years I learned that if I closed my eyes and slept between two of them San Francisco boys, my eyes would bug out and my oysters tasted a swallow".  "I know that seems strange to you boys back here, but I want you to know my bunk is always open to the two of you."  "Mind your manners, this sailor has to go take a salty whizz".

The old gray haired sailor leaves the room with his beer can and finger bread.  Sheriff Jack Snatch, straight from somewhat's Kosher Lucifer's bordello and orangutan hut with his recent sex change into Lady Hotzilla complete speaks to one of the camera crew during the interview.

Sheriff Snatch: "I think the old crone has been out doing oysters too long." "I only have one lung left and I am not going to blow more than one of them at a time". 

Camera Man: "Ole one eyed bandy looks like she's bleedin Pal".

Sheriff Snatch looks down at his changed sexual organelles, the head of his penis at the clitoris and his nuts acting both as labia and vulva and overlooking his dead-end sexual canal with the shaft of his penis slit and and tucked in. 

Sheriff Snatch: "See it doesn't stink like those other boys."

Sheriff Snatch slings some of the pseudo-vaginal exudates into the face of ole Salty Tucaloosa Bill returning from urinating in the mop bucket in the hallway, his beer in his hand and his bread in his few gnarly horse-like teeth.  Bill takes the bread from his mouth after adjusting his zipper and sees the red flow on his bread and takes a bite.

Tuscaloosa Bill: "Makes we want to drank". 

Bill gulps the beer down in a swallow and pulls another from his pocket.

Tuscaloosa Bill: "You can make em go down on you but you can't make em swallow".   "What's it like Sheriff Snatch, being Satan's pussy and hog?"  "I heard that his best transvestite prostitutes chose to leave their nuts off, and God pity those who left them on" "All that slammin and bangin"  "Kind of like catchin your boat in a serpents ballroom I bet"  "Lets take a look at ya Sheriff Snatch, up on Dr. Hog's examination table".

Sheriff Snatch opens his legs on the examination bench and Tuscaloosa Bill puts on his Dr.'s examination magnifying glass and starts to prod in Snatch's pleasure areas reserved for his boss and the pimps and their clientele.

Tuscaloosa Bill: "It looks like they left your nuts on boy"

Bill produces a tongue depressor from his coat with inch mark measurements and jams it into the dead end hole.

Tuscaloosa Bill: "One Two Three Six Nine 12 inches, boy you can handle a Puerto Rican".  "Must get snug for the King of Tarts I bet"

Sheriff Snatch: "It is better than the anus and it does not get the farts quite as much.

Tuscaloosa Bill looks at the huge hemorrhoids dangling from Sheriff Snatch's rectum and grimaces.

Tuscaloosa Bill: "I bet he rode you like a one Jack-ass pony show didn't he?" "And look, there appears to be a wart amongst em, no a bunch of warts" "Get your filthy ass off of my examination table boy" "I don't do medical inspections of God's forsaken queers".  "Get the Hell out of Tuscaloosa" "If I want to lay between two young men I don't need no satanic old queer wearing rolling blades made out of anal warts". 

And so ends another day as your world turns upside down,  Jack Ass Moon's up. You can find him visiting a church near you in a paddy wagon with a banner on the side that reads in bright ruby red, "Ball Boodie", last spotted on Old Shell Road outside of body boodie church of Satanic lap dancers and buddhi worshippers.


Comedy:  Any man who dates in some cities of the world knows that a fairly significant probability exists that at some point his date will be a post-op trans-sexual. Sheriff Jack "Snatch" Till-man will likely be given on his first night in Satan's house a prostitute.  She will be a post-op trans-sexual, but her testicles will remain in her labia.  Of course the penis will be tucked inside out with the head as the clitoris.

What a fire stud Sheriff Snatch  will be until Monday morning when the sex change operation is reversed for her into him, and the changing of Jack Snatch into her. The question, "What will it be Yack, with or without testicles in your labia?"

Men remember, if she moans to loud during cunnilingus, check for knots or nuts in the labia.  And if she smells like musk, ask her to douche.


The nature of the mathematical aptitude, for lack of a better word, inherit in each organism, such as the human's ability to calculate physical mathematics through motion of the body, is as varied as the phyla of organisms.  For instance, humans seem to start with the basic, fingers and toes in computing digits, and counter physical forces in mathematical physics principles, such as throwing a ball.  Bees, for instance, on the other hand, are in a far different set of circumstances daily, and therefore their calculative ability in determining their environment in relation to themselves would like astonish the human mind in its foreign complexity, but seem as natural to bee, much like a human counting fingers and toes.

By instituting  parts of the genome or DNA structure, or building blocks inherit to each organism, several different kingdoms and phyla of organisms, and in particular those parts of the genome for the brain that know how to operate in its environment, one could create a true mathematician who would resemble more the naked physicist.

Due to conditioning of the parts of the brains in question, small pieces may have to be collected or read to follow the overall pattern needed for the desired ability in the host human organism.  The nature of part of the world is deception, the nature of part of the world is devouring or battling with those who deceive on a full time basis.



Scene: Somewhere over the Rocky Mountains east of Northern California, two planes are hit by some Alabama hunters with bad eye sight and under the direction of their blind  tourist guide from High Mountain Lake County California, Pennis Deron.

In the planes are two men who bail out and who share similar characteristics.  They both think they are accepted wholly within the social circles they travel and they are given fat pay checks to act as front men, for a larger conglomerate of international billionaire Criminals.   President George Bush, Jr. and Alabama Mob AL Sheriff Jack "Snatch" Tillman, who is a thief and co-conspirator in the illegal murders and silencing of honest auditors and investigators.

Sheriff Snatch  in Parachute is talking to President Bush as they glide down.

Sheriff Snatch:  "I am glad they sent me to escort you to the forbidden zone, Northern California.  When I get back to Mob AL, the mayor and city council told me I could keep all the inmate food funds I want for doing this heroic deed."

President Bush Jr.: "Yeah, I got my rootin tootin six iron right here"  "The billionaires and the guy who knows the guy who knows the guy, told me I could meet one of his closest guys, if I make it and that he would buy my oil at 6 cents over the dollar." "All I have to do is take away the guns from everybody except "us", our people, the ones with a big W on the windshield"

Snatch and Bush land on a high mountain top, where Bush's gun is quickly taken by a man in embroidery and wool.  They are taken to a chalet and holding cage where they get to watch the rehearsal.  Here in video, Streaming real audio, Caligula, Dance of Dawn, at Mourning Star Fight Club and Hill top Chalet and Holding Cage.  A Jack Snatch in the Bush rehearsal with Caligula.  Sheriff Jack Snatch admires the gold halter top when they approach the rehearsal and wishes his ski top was so colorful.


Comedy : I picture myself in the somewhat hyped up state that many like to portray myself, eyes bugged out and driving my pick-up truck like mad Dr. Brown.

Scene: I pull up in front of Somewhat Koshifer Lucifer's house, aka Satan's house to pick up the proverbial, "Sheriff of Mob AL, Jack Snatch Till-man".  Jack runs out in a pink ballerina hip girdle with frilly lace, tip toeing across the broken beer bottle glass, sprinting like a fugitive homosexual.  Jack gets in the truck.

Dr. Brown: "Look Jack, the emerald forest" "We have job to do" "Are you ready for it?"

Jack looks back up to the house, almost longingly.  Dr. Brown looks angrily as Jack reaches out with his wrist limp and in the love leprosy pose, the pinkey finger and its neighbor clutched to the pit of the hand, and his wrist flaccidly reaching out.

Dr. Brown: "I hate that hairy old son of a bitch.  He always twists you young people's minds."

Dr. Brown puts the navigational fix together and plugs the coin and Jack and Dr. Brown try to find the lost mindset of the emerald forest, which Dr. Brown refers to as "Village of the Damned."

Satan comes out of his shit-brown house with a .22 rifle taken from auditor Kurt Brown, Saint Ram Bone, in Los Angeles by the federal government when he was running for his life and protecting his loved ones from harm. Satan fires a shot at Dr. Brown for calling him a Son Of A Bitch on his property. A bullet glazes through the windshield and hits Dr. Brown. A glint of blood starts to drain down between his eyes.

Dr. Brown to Sheriff Jack Snatch: "Don't let blood get in my bad eye". "Did it go in?" "Is there a hole?" "He just grazed me last time."

Sheriff Jack Snatch: "No, it didn't go in." "You have an X there now though". "And it looks like some little digits printed on your head." "X 017, I can't read the rest, too much blood"

Dr Brown skids out of the driveway and onto the street and takes off, running his truck over some shrubs and shit, or the shit on the shrubs where the dogs of war shit.

Dr. Brown: "Good, this means I'm anesthisized and De-baptized" "At least in that evil bastards eyes"

And so goes another day on the loathsome freeway to Hell. Stay tuned as Kurt Brown writes his next medley compilation, to the tune of, "Hear that loathsome whipper will, tomorrow it will die, I once heard its children cry, and all I could do was eat humble pie"

One of my earliest songs seems to match this tale, "Semi-Ram-US, Nimrod's Mamma's Bleeding" in mp3 by Kurt Brown, SainTramBone.  This is one of my first and is rudimentary in design but not logic.


Comedy:SainTramBone remembers doing an interview with Some-what Koshifur Lucifer in Alabama at his shit-brown house that looked like a box somewhere on the poor side of the tracks.  All of the locals called him Satan and his home, the brown box.

Satan had an ash-tray full of silver bullets next to him and another ash-tray with one gold bullet.

Satan: "All of these he-uh Rednecks and Niggers tried to kill me with those Silver Bullets there and I have a nice collection."  "Those bullets really smart but they couldn't kill my Auntie, Queen Tootin Common".

SainTramBone: "Will the gold bullets kill you"

Satan: "Well hell yeah you little buck tooth bastard" "And if I get hit twice or more times by a big thick caliber bullet, the odds are even greater"  "Did I fock your mamma up the ass to give birth to chew.?"

SainTramBone: "I will be rat back" "I'm going to get Sheriff Jack Snatch Tillman's gun and badge back in Mob AL"

Satan reaches onto the love seat lining. 

Satan: "Here it is rat he-uh" "Have you got any of them there bullets?"

SainTramBone: "They are yellow and they sing a lot"

Satan: "Boy, are you daft" "I already flushed out Sheriff Jack Snatch' colon and he is my bitch, hen-ce-forth" "Got that"

Satan grabs SainTramBone by the nape of the neck and leads him out the door.

Sheriff Jack Snatch, condemned food funds thief and murderer of the Carpenter, watches from the window of the barred pink bedroom, or Chambre De Couche which is French and translated means, the Chamber of the Coochie. 

The real question is, how many gold bullets does it take to stop the burning Bush from burning the entire world? The answer is none. You can not stop a bush from burning with a bullet anymore than you can stop ignorance with a bullet. And the federal government dared to take bank examiner and auditor Kurt Brown's guns from him when his life was in danger. On with the show, to a new game, new rules, maybe someday our game, our rules. A musical triumph by Kurt Brown in mp3 to commemorate the Chambre De Couche and its you, Jack, "Stone Cold In My Electric Chair", on New Orleans Indymedia. Or if you choose, watch the streaming windows video at Melbourne Indymedia with the Stone Cold In My Electric Chair video. Remember to save the wood and jump the jack.


Science: A theoretical hypothesis of the origin of a key faction of the true ruling regime.  I do not believe the words of recorded history, not in sum total.  The origins of man may indicate a struggle with an older variety of life.  Of course, even that older variety could be constrained to the desires of an even older variety of life, at least in terms of one ruling over the other or manipulating the other into present times.

Saturn is a planet with numerous rings, with what Leonardo Da Vinci or Galileo called the life blood of this planet, water or h20.  Considering the ice age of planet Earth and the destruction of the aqueous life bearing covering of Saturn, it is indicative a war is and was waged between thinking beings.

Did either or both or more life forms escape?.  Did they have bio-engineering?  After all, even Ezekiel of the self glorified sub species, human variant of Bonobo Monkey and Gorilla and Rhesus Monkey, Judeo and/or Judeo Christian faiths had visions of a bio-engineered being, part lion, eagle, and man.

I would wager that something of a older organism was involved, likely from the early evolutionary tract of a reptile nature or even a hybrid form of insect or an infinite combination of other possibilities.  We should not believe or trust anything within current dogma of our society that places one group higher than another.  It leads to conflict and when you see billionaires as we do in America, truding up the pigs paths of American hills in their metal boxes, it indicates a new super power race/species is needed to guide us out of ape's horror or to our solemn deaths.   Our current leaders lead us to a broken dish, broken Earth to look like Saturn.  I no longer believe the lie of American mass media and want to puke when they start manipulating the simple minds and covering up the truth. Of course, they are hand in hand with a government that murders humans in Arabia like dogs and cages us and leads us like beasts of burden.


True Comedy: Recent discussion with bio-engineer: I have requested that a young and budding bio-genetics engineer take a limb from my body and utilize the nucleus from each of the cells in experimentation.  In one of the clones of myself, I have requested that I be given the protein that was extremely abundant in Einsteins brain, however the protein is to be amplified, hundreds of times.  I have also asked that I be given wings, like that of the albatross or the California condor and that I be given a big penis like a bull.  The  bio-genetics engineer said she would give me the wings of a dove, and that if I wanted a penis, it would have to be a pig penis.  Those wings will be very small but the sows will want to root with me, as the more it is rooted, the better it gets. 

The absurdity is the truth in the lie.


Comedy: Real life scenarios interwoven into the perplexed visions of past, present  and future.

Sheriff Jack Tillman, proven thief and negligent homicide perpetrator, is looking into Kurt Brown's, aka Saint Ram Bone's, $911 million painting with two layers, the painting, if held correctly allows you to see the future.

Kurt and Indymedia Staff to Jack: "What do you see Jack?"

Jack hesitant and looking as if possessed.

Jack to crowd: "I see myself on 4-3-2001 kicking Kurt Brown, auditor and artist, out of the Mobile Alabama government lobby for trying to enter the city council meetings in Mobile". 

Kurt to Jack: "What else do you see Jack"

Jack holds the painting at a different level and intensity.

Jack to crowd: "I admit I took Kurt's gun permit on 4-3-2001, but I got the approval of the Kaiser".  "I see my foot in Kurt's ass" "Well I appear to be swallowed whole into the holiest of un-holies."

Kurt to Jack: "What else do you see Jack".

Kurt touches the painting, twisting into the North and turning left.

Jack to crowd: "I see lawnmower blades and red and brown". 

A sweat protrudes from Jacks sallow cheeks.

Kurt loosens the turn on the painting.

Jack to crowd: "Oh I see now. It is some red haired guy in a Tu Tu, over 6 feet with a chainsaw and Tomahawk and a pistol belt in the high mountains on snow tops."  "Jesus, Is that Jesse James Hughes"

Kurt, hesitating, to Jack: "No, I can not tell from this position" "It could be James the Carpenter kid or Jesse James Hughes" "Let's put more tortion on it"

Kurt to crowd: "Stand back, Jack is on his way to to be provided soon for the 5+? count indictment of Sheriff Jack Snatch".

Jack's anus bulges outward with an influx of Ascaris lombrocoides.  (All links to pics of such and news articles about these events and people are real and on this site. Look them up yourself, or is that, look up yourself?)

The most ironic thing is that when Tillman thought he put his foot up my ass, he put it into my guitar.  I do not know who dwells in my strings but the same is less approximated and more exacted in the vice versa.


Comedy: Envision if you will, auditor Kurt Brown with his guitar on his back 4-3-2001 walking to enter the forbidden zone controlled by our enemies in America, it is high noon, or 10:30 as the flies shit today in their Mob AL City Council meeting.  Kurt has brought SainTramBone who is on a leash, walking naked and brutal.  Thief Sheriff Jack Tillman stops the auditor who has caught the Nazis elements in America, in partial if not total embrace or glance.

Kurt to SainTramBone: "Shan Gra LA with the Hez Boll AH"

SainTramBone leaps up onto Jack''s face, cutting it off and proceeding to rip the Uncle Toms and Nazis apart with big buck teeth.

A cry from one of the women in the wings.

Woman to crowd: "No he's just a baby Hez Boll AH".

The doors to the closed government are blown off, and once brave mercenaries run with splinters in their asses, relinquishing to take real jobs, not those of apprentice whip kitten for the New American Nazis.

Aft note, personal note: It is my wager that on outgoing Sheriff Tillman's dieing day, he will be split in two and tossed on three.  They saying death feels like being in an ant bed.  I don't think so, not for sum, only part, as it is part of the equation. Some don't think. Tillman should be brought on 6 charges not 5, maybe 8. Negligent Homicide of J.C. in 2000. Felony violating Open Meetings Law 2001. Deliberate mishandling of evidence in the murder of boxer Jesse James Hughes.  A more personal note, "Jack, he looks like my brother doesn't he? Dimples and balls.  My father told me I would meet him.". I only wish I could be an attorney and sue your ass. My father told me to choose law and I chose finance against his advice. You took my gun permit and framed me with the help of Federal Nazis in Alabama and California. The time has come, 2 parts to 3. Now the federal government directs the state governments to not allow me a Trial By Jury, even after my overpaid Los Angeles attorney told me in Los Angeles if I took their plea under gunpoint, needles, a million dollar bail, and threats of years in prison, I could have the plea reversed and have a trial by jury. Now thanks to the Nazi element of the USA, I can not go to Law School or defend my life with their weapons. I can hold court here and acquire my own defenses, piss-ant. Crush the regime is the order of the day. Save the salvagable pieces and enjoy the comedy as the fatal portions of the regime get to follow Jack's lead, and the split from three to four pieces. It appears California just had an earthquake or a banana split. Wouldn't you agree Jack, marching to Hell?

One last message to Jack and his many asses, "Quazimoto from Hell and High Kong will see you now." As Saint Ram Bone defacates in a pot of summering Jambalaya, he says to Jack, "We are serving mitso soup with the main entree, "Jacques Rabid".

In a more filthy reality on 4-3-2001, Sheriff Tillman and fifteen deputies stopped me, Kurt Brown at the Mob AL City meeting gate and proceeded the first step in destroying what was left of my life as I was going to try stave off any more suffering due to the Sheriff's obvious thievery. The regime laughed when Tillman shoved his boot up Auditor Kurt Brown, aka Saint Ram Bone's ass on the way out the door. It appears Sheriff Jack Snatch Tillman got sucked up into the holiest of holies, is being chewed up, as his pistola is firing bullets out the poop hole. Au revoir mon Sainte.

Scene: The table is set.   One Wiseman takes a bite and chews and swallowing with stiff neck.

Wiseman to attendees of meal: "This Jambalaya tastes like shit".

Another attendee sniffs a chunk of jambalaya and asks for the soup to be passed.

Wiseman excuses himself from table, sick.

Enter Uncle Billy Goat to the table.

Uncle Billy Goat to attendees: "This jambalaya is set-, set-, settee".

Uncle Billy Goat removes the hair using finger floss and starts to count and split hairs.

Uncle Billy Goat to attendees: "Set-. set-, settee".

Winds Howl as Mo the probationer office of Humboldt County arrives and looks for a seat.

Stuttering Mo to Uncle Billy Goat: "Where do I  set-, set-, settee?"

Uncle Billy Goat rolls and clicks his tongue and pushes his plate in front of Mo.

Uncle Billy Goat to Mo: "Jacques Rabid Jambalaya...MMM...mmm...mmm"

Mo tastes the gruel and sprinkles some Humboldt county garlic ganja on top by the pound and shoves it down the ole pie hole.

Humboldt County California Probation Officer Mo stands up to relieve himself and urinate in an empty glass. Mo takes a deep gulp, belches and says, "Amanita Muscaria and Olive Oil", passing it to Uncle Billy Goat who refuses the offer and who proceeds to fill his own cup until it runneth over, gulping it down in voluptuous quantities.  (Idea borrowed from book When The Gods Drank Urine ).  

Uncle Billy Goat looks out the warm window at Saint Ram Bone's enemies holding their ape fingers up, signifying they are number one, king of the hill, the only ones allowed, and slams the window down.

  In the sunset, the nuclear and natural explosions from the last far away planets and sons approach a little closer in their descending orbit.


Dark Comedy:  I picture the mayor of Mobile Alabama on his knees in front of a German weapons manufacturer with a crew of Jewish investors in New York.  The mayor is a goat in esterus taking it up the anus and saying, "Give me EADS", "Give me EADS"

The pig German investor slams the pork to the pot bellied goat and he wails like he is in harmonious ecstacsy of the dogs being run over by trains on the tressel.  The pig Jew slams the goat Dick into the mayor and he wails like a chicken in a clutch.

Outside of the barn with its feces on the floor is a sunrise, no a nuclear blast.  Finally a beautiful day in America.


Comedy: I envision that once this facade of existence in the mud has passed, I will awaken in my home somewhere and in the house will be numerous naked women lounging around in the heat.  I will answer the door in the SainTramBone birthday suit daily to one guest for a short period, each one of them, someone or something I have encountered in this life in the mud.

Sheriff Jack Snatch will arrive and I will greet him at the door in my nakedness in the heat.  Due to his outward appearance, things will have changed.  His peanut gonads will not be allowed past the stoop.  I will give him some purple hull field peas with bird shot and molded bread and send out the dog to chase his hungry ass off my spotty lawn.

Sweet Carow, whore for federal banking criminal masterminds will receive a small whip and we will exchange rappings daily after she has been fed purple hull field peas, bread, and lots of wine.

In my SainTramBone birthday suit I will jump up and down on her bed urging her to drink her abundant purple grape wine after she has consumed the hospital quantity of purple hull field peas and bread. She will spank me and I will spank her in return, once with the whip and twice with the one eyed salamander.

After 911 million years of sleeping in the room and being pounded by SainTramBone and wine, SainTramBone will one day open up the viewing hole in the door.

SainTramBone to Sweet Carow: "You can have no more wine you drunken sot, you loose ended slot".

A fight will ensue and then after she sobers up she will be allowed to graze with the cows in mud pastures.


Science, Tool or Weapon Theory: Considering the downing of the Twin Towers in New York and the Oklahoma City bomb, I have reached what could be a possible causative factor in either or both explosions.  I do not believe the mass media or the current regime of USA government on either account.

First, I recall in discussions or reading on science, the ability to project from space what appears to be a three dimensional object on the earth's surface.  This brings up the planes that we saw flying into  the Twin Towers.  Bombs could have been preset into the buildings with an explosion of the supposed culprit planes, images, at the same time as the detonations.  The probability of anything of that sort from now or into the future is 50% or greater.

Of course, with the ability to project a three dimensional image, theoretically one could impose within that image other powerful agents or motions to release energy.  By combining wave forms and sound and manipulating them, and most likely thousands of variants I have not yet thought of, the wave and sound forms could be used within the framework of the image, which resembles a living hologram.

This theory could be extended in the right manner to produce combatants on a field of battle or provocateurs to incite war or control nations.   In the end, as always in the beginning, our distorted illusions ally themselves to our conquests. The nature of existence is much like the shunted artery.


Comedy: I picture SainTramBone finally being granted access to attend the Mob AL city council meeting as dictated under the Open Meetings Law. 

SainTramBone is sitting on the front row while the Mob AL council pretends to be doing something constructive.  Suddenly SainTramBone gets an intense erection and starts to shoot semen up onto the city council members, looking like string confetti, leaving trails over them and the wall.

The council goes into a frenzy of mumbling.

Councilman Cop-land: "Hey, quit it now".

The semen is hanging across the small horn on his right fore-head.

SainTramBone says to Councilman Cop-Land: "You looks bett-uh that way".

SainTramBone squeezes his testicles and some pustules within the many organelles burst, increasing the flow of white semen.

Deja Vu expectum, American Paradise, American Biological Warfare. The United States government under the regime do not allow us to defend ourselves and do not give us protection.  "Invent your own weapons", says SainTramBone


Comedy based on fact (Lost Article and Reloaded): It was a year or more after 2000 and I was in a medical Cannabis Club in San Francisco.  The place was crowded  with people playing a game of bingo, and I was sitting with a couple of people at a table, one of whom was a African and Spanish woman who wore a scarf to cover her head, which was likely due to hair loss resulting from treatments for some sort of ailment. 

As she told me about her website and the poetry on it and her plans for the future, a Television that no one was watching and with the audio down, was showing a parade of war, with the glorious self-elected political group marching over dead bodies in another witch-hunt and power- and land- and oil-grab.

Totally immersed by the beauty of the woman's face in the light and the immaculate nature of the scarf, I watched as a number was called by the bingo caller, "I 24".

"Bingo! one person shouted in harmony with numerous others.  All of the bingo's players arms went up.  Had they all won?

A man who gave me the idea for Mobile Audit Club, a mathematician and weapon's developer and transport engineer who had AIDS, who was the bingo checker went up to the first player. "I 24 is not in the top corner", "but wait", I see the inverse square on the first multiple is the quadratic root of the inverse factorial of the number  under the chip.  "Go get your free baggie" "Definitely Bingo" Definitely one free baggie". 

This same process went on for each player with each getting definitely one baggie and as I ate my brownie, I noticed that someone had placed a bingo chip inside.  " Definitely a winner" the bingo caller said as I chewed on it for a few minutes.  I gave my free baggie to the some-what African and Spanish lady who wore the scarf.

I definitely hope that she is still alive and that they have gotten rid of the Television set. 



Comedy: A now indicted Sheriff, on 5 felony counts, should be 6 or more, Sheriff Jack Tillman of Mobile Alabama is the subject of this comedy. 

Sheriff Jack Snatch arrives at the federal penitentiary, Terminal Island, at the mouth of the Los Angeles Harbor.

Mike Tyson is doing time and he and Jack Snatch are jaw-jacking over dinner.

Mike: "You used to be a boxer I bet" "Didn't ya"

Mike moves his hand toward Jack as in a punch.

Jack:  "Yeah, took a sucker punch once too many."

Mike: "Bet you did those crimes though didn't ya"

Jack: "I didn't commint no crimes." "My case is on appeal"

A fellow inmate who appears to be a businessman with no credentials resembling Christopher Walken appears, whose nickname is "Stick"

Mike: "Sit down Stick" "Me and Jack were just talkin"  "Jack is an ex-boxer and those two fellows from the Bonano family told me that Truk Brown told him that Jack is that Jack Snatch Sheriff we saw on the web while we were janitor'n in the warden's  office yesterday afternoon."

Stick: "Did you download any nudity pictures of Jack"

Stick Looking over  at Jack

Stick: "Jack looks pretty fit Mike" "Think you gonna fight him?"

Stick starts eating his spaghetti and bread and water and gives a little wink.

Mike: "Big Muscle says he wants try a piece of him first" "We got a piece of a stand off here"

Mike starts to chuckle.

Stick: "Big Muscle couldn't even wind up with Jack" "Look at the muscle" "I think you ought to fight him Mike, 3 to 1 odds in the third round"

Mike: "In the third round" "Give me an ice water".

Stick: "He has a lot of eminies according to Mr. Bonano"

Mike: "He's still here"

Stick: "He runs a burger stand a couple of joints down from he-uh, next to the old fish terminal"

Mike: "Yeah, let's get him on this bet" "I think one of us can decapitate the other by the first"

Mike spits on his hand and places it on Jack's forehead.

Mike: "Basting sauce"

Stick, alarmed and wanting the fight to wait, jumps up with a napkin wiping his forehead.

Jack: "The fight is on kid"

Stick later that evening has set up the pricing schedule for viewing, a few cigarettes, a filthy salad lay, and a few hundred at the meat market.

Mike: "Terminator"

Mike slams Jack against the locker with an overhand.

Stick: "Round 1"

Jack: "Who am I talking to?"

Jack disoriented thinks he is answering calls back at the Snatch house, Sheriff's office, due to the ringing of his head on the locker.

Mike: "A pig in the peck a pecker"

Mike slams him again into the locker.

Stick checks Jack's teeth, holding his mouth and helping with the loose ones.

Stick: "Round two"

Jack: "I wish y'all would stay, I'm freezing in he-uh"

Mike smiles

Mike: "Talking to Ms. Daisy ain't allowed up in here"

One final blow by Mike to Jack and Stick holds up a finger.

Stick: "I ought to rip his pencil off"

Stick picks a pencil up from off the ground.

Stick pulls the eraser off the dummy pencil Sheriff Jack Snatch stole from a private stash while in lock down.

Stick: "Damn" "This stick holds up to a gram"

Stick tastes the white substance and turns to Jack laying on the floor. 

Stick: "You should never try ripping Helter Skelter off"

Jack regaining slight consciousness to see one of his Alabama relatives, Charles Manson, who is twirling his tongue like an apricot sissy in love or lust.

Charles looks at Jack.

Charles: "X me"

Charles Manson proceeds to carve an X between Sheriff Jack Snatch's eyes as the warden's helpers proceed to help Stick square the accounts with the inmates and staff.

So this brings to close another fine day in a Los Angeles penitentiary where you can that angelic glow while you cool off, chillin like Jack.


Comedy: A comedy skit based on true facts. When SainTramBone was a child, myself in some ways, was learning to ride a bicycle, a man who now works for the Mobile Alabama Sheriff's Department who I will call, "Rickety Copper" based on Deputy Ricky Cooper will be the target of this story.  I say many things, but I hope our city benefits.  It is not our government, yet.  I am not allowed in. 

Scene: SainTramBone is on his tricycle riding down the hallways of Sheriff's department in the government building.

Saintrambone: "Rickety",

The cycle squeaks slowly down the hall as a few onlookers see the naked 4 foot two inch naked man coming down the hall. 

SainTrambone: "Rickety", "Copper", "Rickety Copper"

A woman deputy who looks like a man is at the water fountain.

SainTrambone: Pointing at the lady: "Are you Rickety Copper"

Woman Deputy: "Young man", "We are a law enforcement facility" "I know it is hot as Hell but we do not allow nudity"

SainTramBone: "OK, I start work here today". "I'll get my uniform" "Where is Rickety Copper"

Woman Deputy: "Down the hall, past Judas."

SainTramBone: "Judith is my momma, and she is not here, she passed away when I was being beat up by the deputies of Jack Snatch".  "Deputy Rickety Cooper was there at my mother's funeral that week and now I want to congratulate him on his run for the Sheriff's office"

Woman Deputy: "Rickety for Sheriff" "I like that. It kinds of rings a bell".

A bell rings like a little tinker bell down the hall. 

Woman Deputy: "Don't hurt him."

She picks up her holster with a .32 and a .45 and a shotgun and two rifles.

SainTramBone: Looking mad:  "Those looks like my huntin and plinkin guns stole by  the Alabama government and the Los Angeles federal government"

Woman Deputy eats her bologna sandwich and walks away.

SainTramBone follows the tinker bell that rings again and enters  the office where Sheriff Deputy Rickety Copper sits. 

SainTramBone: "It is good to see you again." "Your cat collar looks nice, with its little wind chime". 

Rickety Copper: "Yeah, its my wife's".  "She lets me wear it on special occasions."

Rickety Copper: "Come on in and sit down" "I was just thinking about Judith, your momma.  Today is her birthday, tax day, April 15th"  "I heard about you getting roughed up a little bit at the gate."

SainTramBone: "Aw, shucks, it was nothing." "Nothing like those two attacks on the highway by assassins related to federal banking repulators, and then that poison in my window in exile in Humboldt County California while fleeing terrors from Los Angeles like forced injections and abuse by the federal government under the banking regulator's request."  "Twas nothing compared to that" 

In an earnest tone, SainTramBone mentions the past.

SainTramBone: "Do you remember when the Vietnam veteran Wiseman came back and said that he had deer meat in his car and it was doughnuts and we were still kids on Rosewood  in Mobile Alabama?"  "I saw him in a vision and he was there with Momma"

Rickety Copper: "Wiseman the suicide victim who was our neighbor  and Judy, your momma"

SainTramBone: "Yeah" "They said you should run for Sheriff" "Rickety Copper (Ricky Cooper) for Sheriff" "I like it" "I will help with publicity, for free, au gratis" "All you have to do is"

SainTramBone pauses

SainTramBone: "Rickety, can I put on  the uniform hangin over there?"

SainTramBone points to the Sheriff's uniform and Rickety hands him the uniform after noticing a crowd outside his door starting to talk about the little naked man and Rickety with his wife's cat collar on.

SainTramBone: "D-d-d-do y-y-you remember when I use to stutter when young?" "Did you ever wonder why?"

Wiseman and Judy stand behind SainTramBone with a hand on each shoulder in the ethereal form.  To be continued.  Rickety Copper for Sheriff of Mobile Alabama.  Get back Yack, saddle-man is in the crack.


Comedy, Advertising Proposal to any truck or auto company but in this example, using the Dodge Ram or Chrysler corporation:

SainTramBone is in an old Dodge Ram with a crack that looks like wings on his windshield above what appears to be a bullet hole with a crack like a t or cross below it.

A passenger who is an auditor, Kurt Brown aka Truk,  next to him and asks SainTramBone, "What accounting principle violations are we looking at here SainTramBone?"

SainTramBone replies, as he is shifting into reverse to run over a hump under the tire, "For starters, Collusion"

Kurt says, "Collision!" looking out his rear view mirror at someone who ran under SainTramBone's tire with a bag of stolen money to hide.

SainTramBone says, "No, Collusion, People Like a Pack of Monkey Rats Stealing the Government Cheese" and the truck pulls forward over the hump again.

Kurt screams, "Collision", "Someone is under the tire"

SainTramBone, "That's why I ride is this hare dash-burn Dodge Ram", "No fudging on the bottom line" and slams the dash that lights up and lunges forward, which is upward with a load of criminals and their cash, followed by a tune, with the words cleaned up.  (Link to video with the song Big Federal Dick Up The N'awlins Big Easy Bud Hole at the end of the video)


Comedy: Kurt Brown, an honest auditor terminated from the federal banking regulator, the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation, is killed by assassins linked to the FDIC or their union the National Treasury Employees Union.  Having survived two attempts that have been made on my life since 2001, I might as well make a joke about it because sometimes you can not tell when you go down in the fight and sometimes I wonder if I am still alive or if I am chained and under the USA's state and federal government's needles again.

Kurt Brown in the corpus is not allowed to die and in the place of Kurt comes Satan or Michael or one of those Buddhist, Hindu, or Muslim cats.

At the FDIC headquarters in San Francisco, Kurt's last employment, the cat comes in Kurt'n's gown.

The woman who terminated him is in her office and Kurt's corpus says Hello, "How have you been Sweet Carow.?"  "The regime was replaced in its bloody faction and I got my old job back" "But due to the near bullet hits", and Kurt's corpus shows a bullet hole or plug missing in his ear, "I have no choice but to demand that the FDIC management give me a higher rank than yours".  "They gave me the same rank as yours, Executive Level 69, and I said, 'No-body likes a martyr' 'and therefore I like nobody'" "You smell like a tart" he says and eats his whole grain bar and slams his coffee back, gargling before swallowing.

Sweet Carow, Executive Level has been sweet  ass, says, "Hey Kurt" "Dream On"

Kurt says, "Listen up Sistah, the regime got two tips and one was a bullet to the head to the old FDIC manager Mr. Sex Knot that used to sit in the new Sweet Masta's seat.  One, Two." "Have you heard my new song", "Well actually it is not my new song but it is titled Sweet Carow Lodi" "In mp3 format".

Sweet Carow replies, "Bullshit, you are not sitting in my office"

Kurt says, "Sorry Sweet Carow" "I was here shitting earlier" "You told me I had dug a hole I could not get out of" "Well, I ain't found that one, yet".  "Did you get the message?"

Sweet Carow replies, "You are dangerous" "Jesus Christ" "Get this lunatic outta here"

A man in pumps walks in and opens his mouth real wide and Kurt says, "Deep Throat?"

The manager says, "Yeah, and hands Sweet Carow the job assignment papers."

SainTramBone, Kurt's corpus's assistant enters with a shredder/trash compactor, and says, "Excuse me" and grabs papers from Sweet Carow's desk and starts to shed threm.

Sweet Carow jumps up, "I've had enough"

SainTramBone replies, "You've had enough?" "We've had enough Little Sistah" "This is the dummy set of books and a honest bank examiner  is dead while Kurt runs on the highways like a mullet being chased by sharks" "Schools of fish have a hierarchy etched in blood," "Some know the scent" "We have the other books and the picture of a money laundering orgy on film"  "Come on down to the men's washroom and we'll watch it with Sistah Deep Throat"(Link to true story of an attempted murder and facts surrounding a murder at the FDIC, officially labeled suicide.)

Kurt's Corpus having finished his whole grain bar pours himself a coffee and lights up his second sample from the Oakland Oaksterdam District.

Sweet Carow says, "You can't smoke in here".  SainTramBone looks perturbed and starts disarranging things on Sweet Carow's desk.  Deep Throat pulls out a piece of paper, a silly Dr's recommendation, signed by the real Commander in Chief, and witnessed by the FDIC master, Masta.

Kurt lets out a sound like a chicken, "Paack Paack" "Paack Paack" and then says, "I missed you in Palm Springs at the Luau of the FDIC 2000, was it?" "Is it me, or is it hot as Hell in he-uh"  "SainTramBone open a window" Kurt asks.

SainTramBone picks up Sweet Carow' chair and starts banging the glass out of the window on the 69th floor of the FDIC building in San Francisco.

To be continued.


Saint Ram Bone is off duty from Mobile Audit Club and some gentleman-like lady came up and barked an order, "Get you some clothes on!" she shouted.

Saint Ram Bone having been drinking again, let out a belch and said, "Fug-it". 

The manly lady said, "You are not a man then"

"Fug off" Saint Ram Bone growled and then said, "Look lady, give me some money"

The manly lady said, "Then will you buy yourself some clothes".

"Yeah" Saint Ram Bone replied and held out his hand.

SainTramBone accepts the $1.25 and staggers out the door to the liquor store imitating a bruised brown booze hound.

The manly lady walks out of the building and SainTramBone is sitting outside of the store on the stoop on his haunches drinking his favorite drink and says, "Give me six dollars and I can buy a whole suit next time".


Dark Comedy: A young man who was drafted to serve in Vietnam in the mid-1960's came home and asphyxiated himself to death in an automobile with an exhaust hose.  I picture him, Wiseman, opening up a large van and directing all of those who want to start a draft in the 2000's to have a seat. 

After all are seated, he says, "OK, now, inhale, and in a few moments you will know what it is like to be forced to fight your dirty little wars."  They all inhale and fall out with Wiseman sitting there in the ethereal form, and soon they join him, aware of their folly.

Wiseman points to a locker and asks,  "What do you think is in this locker?"  "Deer meat" he adds.  He opens the locker and there are boxes of doughnuts there and SainTramBone with a glass of milk who says, "Suck a nut".


Science: On thinking about severed spinal cords, I am no expert in CNS repair or regeneration, but obviously, no one is today.  I know that when a tree is snapped by a tornado half way down, the fibers are stretched and the tree is basically useless.  In like kind when a spinal cord is cut, I would wager that the same sort of stretching occurs in the fibers going to the point of severing or the fibers or molecules are stretched at the point of severing.

If possible, to go to the point where the stretching is not apparent, and through direct access to every cell or small group of cells at a juncture point in the CNS (spinal cord), fibers or a chemical train could be used to by pass the damaged areas.  It could be cumbersome if not biologically done, such as a box on a person's back, but it would allow at least a beginning in the regaining of the ability to walk again.


Science: After I became aware of the horrors affordable by hidden technologies, I began to have less trust for medical doctors, especially with children.   The war never ends and our most valuable asset is our young.  I have known a doctor or two in America who I am sure are capable of unimaginable horrors. 

I remember one doctor who was going to hold his hand behind a child's head in a cupping position.  Something dark was in hand, reminding me of what would best be described as lacking material mass like other matter but black as night and shaped like a large slug.  Of course, it could have just been a shadow.  The message is, "Parent beware".


Comedy: Satan had been driving down a highway one day in Hell, somewhere between Alabama and Los Angeles on Interstate 10.  As he fought with criminals from D.C. and crooked cops from Alabama somewhere in West Louisiana near the Texas line, he had stopped at a rest stop, and a reporter asked him why he chose to live in such horrid conditions.

 Holding the wise guy and the cop he caught stealing by the throat, he inhaled from his cigarette and said, "I could live up in the vineyards or the apple orchards of Northern California, and sleep with Jesus's daughter on a nightly basis"

Satan paused for a moment and added, "As a matter of fact I did", "But I have work to do he-uh, cain't y'all see"  "I'll be back, those swine are all over my mostly Southerly gardens" "And I gotta clean that shee-it up".  "Look, I have to tell y'all about a song I was writing with that tenderfoot, SainTramBone, it is in mp3, but it is online by one of those fat cable companies so it may not be downloadable.  It is titled Somewhat Koshifur Lucifer and is a piano medley about hunting in the under brush, down he-uh."

"Its about hunting swine down in the valley like an alley cat.  Now if y'all will excuse me, I gotta feed this to them thar buzzards in the Pecos and go back to my apple valley.  The reporter asked, "Are you going back to Los Angeles"

Satan replied, "Hell no, I got my quota for this week right he-uh.  It is Hot as Hell down he-uh in the summer and my wife up in Northern California needs me for some chores and I gotta check Jesus's health.  Rise and shine baby, rise and shine, that's what I tell him..  Just for the record, I think SainTramBone should let that news anchor, Connie Chung, suck on his lung nuts and sing his song on Good Morning America to that racoon eyed bitch, Katie Kerr-itch, that motherfucker, oh excuse me, my wife in Alabama watches that shee-it.  I gotta go."

The news reporter closes, "We are selling tickets to ride with SainTramBone from Alabama to California via Arizona and their chapter 36 law."  Satan says as he gets into his truck, "Inject the needle right he-uh and exposes his lung nuts and scrapes the grits from his chin in a flicking fashion."  SainTramBone kicks Satan in the ribs asleep on the front seat and says, "Sun-Kin".  (A direct link to the song, Some-what Koshifer Lucifer in mp3 on Comcast which often does not work.  Song is one of the earlier pieces and not as refined as some later pieces, Bookmark this site before playing it or remember to search for Mobile Audit Club online at Webcrawler or Google to return).