When There Is No End In Sight

I understand that many people on this planet rely heavily on stories they see on social media (I.e., Facebook, Twitter, Google+, ect.) as being actual news and that people choose their “side” on an issue based on the opinions of others. Unfortunately, y’all, not all, but many, will agree with me that social media has ruined everyone’s collective perspective on the world around us, a social choice has been made to remain being led by their noses. I did not nor will I superimpose anything French on any profile picture I have anywhere for any reason. This does not mean I do not feel sympathy for the dead or the survivors as many claim, it means I choose not to give in to games people play or the pressure people feel from the presence of “friends” not wanting to be left out. I rarely speak out about my political or religious opinions because, like many, I feel it falls on deaf ears.

But, now I will, now I will jump on my soapbox, now I will say the unpopular things, the insensitive things, the un-fuckingpolitically correct things, and the things that many are thinking but are afraid to say outloud. We, the people of the United States of America, have big problems that no politicians want to solve with already having an open borders policy. I personally live in a city where our homeless, many of which are our veterans, go dismissed on a daily basis because there is no money to support them. Yet, I watch as people flood across our borders get everything they need to survive because they are some sort of “refugee”, a term I will use very loosely here, and have little or nothing to go back to if they are turned away. For some reason it makes me less of a human being when I say enough is enough. There has and always will be some form of some kind of crisis in the world which makes people want to flee their nation, whether it be political, social, financial, natural disasters, or war. In every corner of the globe there are reasons to flee, to start over some place new, and to bring their problems with them. We don’t live in a world where everyone wants to be friends, holding hands by the campfire, and singing kumbaya. We live in a world of conquest, a world where the weak are preyed upon for one of thousands of reasons. We as Americans cannot stop this globally, but we damn sure should give it a shot here on U.S. soil. But we don’t, we reach out to the world to give it a tight hug eventhough we know we will be stabbed in the back. Reading this morning I see even more states have decided to go against the President and refuse to allow refugees, I applaud them, they should have been doing this long ago, we have our own people in need right here and right now. No, not every single refugee is a terrorist, but why take chances, why not be fearful of a sheep in wolves clothing, why not worry about our problems first? I’ll tell you why, fear. The United States of America has some pretty fucked up foreign and domestic policies that the government rams down our throats daily and most people thank them asking, “sir may I have another?”. Why? Fear, that’s why, fear. We are not the world’s police force, our military is a very misused tool eventhough our military took an oath to defend the Constitution of the United States of America. I’m getting off base here, so let me touch back a moment, allowing more displaced refugees to enter the United States of America is a mistake, it invites everything everyone says we are fighting against into our backyard. Why? Go ahead, ask yourself why, ask yourself why it is a fantastic idea, and then sit back and watch.

The world is full of terror and terrible people, there is no collective place of safety anywhere, but this is our world to live upon and we need to start standing up and taking back what doesn’t belong to anyone else. But we won’t, its not politically correct, its not the christian thing to do, its not the politicians point of view, and its just plain wrong to sit back and watch. Bullshit. But your wrong if you think I don’t care, because I do, but I have my priorities in place, I put my families survival first, I see no reason at all, not one, why I should put my family at risk. Call me selfish, but their safety comes first, being able to feed them comes first, assuring their livelihood comes first, and seeing that I have others to battle for those things already I have no room in my life for more problems. Yes, I’m a cold hearted motherfucker because I personally don’t want or see the purpose of putting myself, my family, or other Americans further down the food chain because our President thinks it’s a grand plan. We have far too much domestic garbage on our plates, we need not invite more. With that being said, I do feel pain and sorrow for the people of France, for the lives lost and changed forever, and also that now they are forced to rely on the world to help reap their revenge. When will it stop? Where will the line be drawn this time? Your right, it will never end, somewhere there is always war, somewhere there is a government out of control, and the world will continue to lose lives, money, resources as she continues to grow and evolve. But you don’t give a shit about the future, your compassion is called upon once again to guilt you into the belief that we must stop our own lives to accept the problems others in the world have created. But wait, why is the United States of America getting involved to begin with? Asked yourself that yet? The United States of America doesn’t do shit ever unless they there is something politically to gain from it. Not you and I gain something, but the government gaining something. What is it they hope to gain now? Shall they write more checks from our checking account to cover the expenses? There is no end in sight. Let’s now look at what is happening, let’s look at the road we are being led down today, so let’s look internationally a moment at France’s use of Article 42.7 of the Treaty on European Union.

Article 42.7… Much like NATO’s Article 5 Defense Clause, France has chosen to rely on its European neighbors and followed through with Article 42.7 of the Treaty on European Union. So what does this mean? Since Article 42.7 is consistent with commitments under NATO; the only conclusion would be France doesn’t want American involvement; considering Article 222 of the Treaty specifies; “the union and its member states shall act jointly in a spirit of solidarity if a member state is the object of a terrorist attack or the victim of a natural or man-made disaster. The union shall mobilize all the instruments at its disposal, including the military resources made available by the member states.” And understand this, France was attacked by ISIS and American involvement in Syria hasn’t REMOVED ISIS; why? Because the Obama Administration isn’t interested in removing ISIS, this Administration is only focused on a Regime change in Syria; i.e. removal of Syrian President Bashar al-Assad. And this Administrations involvement HAS and WILL make things worse. Consider this, the 5,000 “Moderate” Syrian Fighters being trained in Saudi Arabia will only become the NEW ISIS fighters in Syria within a few months. All at the cost of U.S. Taxpayers to the tune of 15 Billion Dollars. Look at it like this, British Survivor of the Terrorist Attack at the Bataclan Theatre, France, witnessed ISIS terrorist using knives to torture their mortally wounded victims by slitting their stomachs as they lay on the floor. Think about that for a minute… Allow that to sink in a fucking minute. This Administration is continuing to develop the fighters that will fill the ranks of ISIS and WE ARE PAYING FOR IT TO HAPPEN… And you think it ends there? Ask yourself this, how come 2,098 Syrian Muslims are allowed to FLEE Syria and come into the United States but only 53 Syrian Christians have been allowed in? But the President, OUR ELECTED PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES said this at the G20 Summit, “We don’t have religious tests to our compassion. We do not close our hearts to these victims of such violence and somehow start equating the issue of refugees with the issue of terrorism.” And if you TRULY BELIEVE it’s all Obama’s fault, THEN WHY IS HE STILL IN OFFICE? Why hasn’t your State Representative in D.C. filled for impeachment? Why? Because they too DO NOT CARE about you or I. It’s time to wake up and see that Americans are not who they are interested in, because if they were, the United States of America would be a different place right now. Believe me, I don’t blame a certain President, he is not the blame for the state of the Union, but he is responsible for his policies and the continuation of policies from decades of other corrupted politicians. Daily we are asked to put our lives in the hands of people who don’t care about you and I, I only am asking why we still do it, why do we trust people who do not have our interests in mind, and why do we continue to elect people who keep fucking us all over?

In the end, I’m very fucking displeased with people, in general, right now. The United States of America is being jammed down the toilet politically and financially already, perhaps if the politicians and the people of this great Nation keep flushing it hard enough we will become a place nobody wants to come to legally, or flee to, and we will continue to evolve into a nation of politics and policies which has fucked it’s people into poverty unable to ever recover. Yes I’m fucking pissed, yes I’m done, and yes, if we as a Nation are not willing to unfuck generations of corruption in our government and big businesses then we will never see the end of the greed which we so proudly support. The decision is yours to want to lead or to follow, that choice cannot be made for you, the mistakes we are making as a Nation makes us appear as fools to our enemies. Every breath you take is being watched right now, history books are being written right now, and when we look back we can all hang our heads in shame together.

I’m done posting my normal day to day stuff here for a while, I’m tired of this whole pointless blogging thing, but before I stopped for a bit on the regular shit I had the above to say. I’m not here on this planet for the politicians to decide my fate in life and I have a feeling this post may raise more than one fucking eyebrow, but it all needed to be said, it all needed to be heard, and I stand behind it 100%. If you feel this is the end of our relationship I understand. If you feel that you must bitch at me for “keeping it fucking real” don’t bother. In my opinion, one way or another we are fucked because most people just don’t care anymore. I don’t know if I’m ready to put my soapbox away yet, there is much more I wish to discuss which I have stayed silent about for far too long. It’s all fun and games until the scorpion is backed into a corner. Live well my friends, live well while you still can, and if you read this and you are mad, merely thank me because you are fucking welcome.

Only Once A Year On November 11th

At precisely 11:11 a.m. each Veterans Day (Nov. 11), the sun’s rays pass through the ellipses of the five Armed Services pillars to form a perfect solar spotlight over a mosaic of The Great Seal of the United States.

The Anthem Veterans Memorial, located in Anthem, Arizona, is a monument dedicated to honoring the service and sacrifice of the United States armed forces. The pillar provides a place of honor and reflection for veterans, their family and friends, and those who want to show their respects to those service men and women who have and continue to courageously serve the United States.

The memorial was designed by Anthem resident Renee Palmer-Jones. The five marble pillars represent the five branches of the United States military. They are staggered in size (from 17 ft to 6 ft) and ordered in accordance with the Department of Defense prescribed precedence, ranging from the United States Army, the United States Marine Corps, the United States Navy, the United States Air Force and the United States Coast Guard.

Additionally, the brick pavers within the Circle of Honor are inscribed with the names of over 750 U.S. servicemen and women, symbolizing the ‘support’ for the Armed Forces. The pavers are red, the pillars are white, and the sky is blue to represent America’s flag. The circle represents an unbreakable border. Anthem resident and chief engineer, Jim Martin was responsible for aligning the memorial accurately with the sun.

Anthem Veterans Memorial

41703 N. Gavilan Peak Parkway
Anthem, AZ 85086
(623) 742-6050

Photographs by Mike Spinelli

Veterans Day is an official United States holiday that honors people who have served in the U.S. Armed Forces, also known as veterans. It is a federal holiday that is observed on November 11. It coincides with other holidays such as Armistice Day and Remembrance Day, which are celebrated in other parts of the world and also mark the anniversary of the end of World War I (major hostilities of World War I were formally ended at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month of 1918, when the Armistice with Germany went into effect).

The United States also originally observed Armistice Day; it then evolved into the current Veterans Day holiday in 1954.Veterans Day is not to be confused with Memorial Day; Veterans Day celebrates the service of all U.S. military veterans, while Memorial Day is a day of remembering the men and women who died while serving.

Talking About The Confederate Battle Flag

History books, the media, the school systems, etc abound in falsehoods and inaccuracies of Confederate and Southern history. A very close and dear personal friend of mine wanted me to share what you will read below in hopes to help clarify and dispell some of these rampant inaccuracies people choose to overlook. With so much news and media coverage of the Confederate Battle Flag recently, I made the choice to hold off posting it, but the time has come to post it today.

MYTH: The War of 1861 – 1865 was fought over slavery.

FACT: Terribly untrue. The North fought the war over money. Plain and simple. When the South started Secession, Lincoln was asked, “Why not let the South go in peace?” To which he replied, “I can’t let them go. Who would pay for the government?” Sensing total financial ruin for the North, Lincoln waged war on the South. The South fought the War to repel Northern aggression and invasion.

MYTH: Only Southerners owned slaves.

FACT: Entirely untrue. Many Northern civilians owned slaves. Prior to, during and even after the War Of Northern Aggression.

Surprisingly, to many history impaired individuals, most Union Generals and staff had slaves to serve them! William T. Sherman had many slaves that served him until well after the war was over and did not free them until late in 1865.

U.S. Grant also had several slaves, who were only freed after the 13th amendment in December of 1865. When asked why he didn’t free his slaves earlier, Grant stated “Good help is so hard to come by these days.”

Contrarily, Confederate General Robert E. Lee freed his slaves (which he never purchased – they were inherited) in 1862!!! Lee freed his slaves several years before the war was over, and considerably earlier than his Northern counterparts. And during the fierce early days of the war when the South was obliterating the Yankee armies!

Lastly, and most importantly, why did NORTHERN States outlaw slavery only AFTER the war was over? The so-called “Emancipation Proclamation” of Lincoln only gave freedom to slaves in the SOUTH! NOT in the North! This pecksniffery even went so far as to find the state of Delaware rejecting the 13th Amendment in December of 1865 and did not ratify it (13th Amendment / free the slaves) until 1901!

MYTH: The Confederate Battle Flag was flown on slave ships.

FACT: NONE of the flags of the Confederacy or Southern Nation ever flew over a slave ship. Nor did the South own or operate any slaves ships. The English, the Dutch and the Portuguese brought slaves to this country,not the Southern Nation.

BUT, even more monumental, it is also very important to know and understand that Federal, Yankee, Union ships brought slaves to America! These ships were from the New England states, and their hypocrisy is atrocious.

These Federals were ones that ended up crying the loudest about slavery. But without their ships, many of the slaves would have never arrived here. They made countless fortunes on the delivery of slaves as well as the products made from raw materials such as cotton and tobacco in the South.

This is the problem with Yankee history History is overwhelmingly portrayed incorrectly by most of the Federal & Yankee books and media.

MYTH: The Confederate Battle Flag represented the Southern Nation.

FACT: Not true. While the Southern Battle flag was carried into battle, the Southern Nation had 3 different National flags during the course of the war.

The First National flag was changed due to a resemblance of the US flag.

The Second National flag was subsequently modified due to the similarity to a flag of truce.

The Third National flag was the adopted flag of the Confederacy.

The Confederate Battle Flag was never a National Flag of the Confederacy. It was carried into battle by several armies such as the Army Of Northen Virginia and the Army of Tennessee. Was also used as a Naval Jack by the Confederate Navy.

MYTH: The Confederate Battle Flag is known as the “Stars & Bars”.

FACT: A common misconception. The First National Confederate Flag is correctly known as the “Stars & Bars”. The Confederate Battle Flag is known as the “Southern Cross”.

MYTH: The Confederate Battle Flag represents racism today.

FACT: The Confederate Battle Flag today finds itself in the center of much controversy and hoopla going on in several states. The cry to take this flag down is unjustified. It is very important to keep in mind that the Confederate Battle Flag was simply just that. A battle flag. It was never even a National flag, so how could it have flown over a slave nation or represented slavery or racism? This myth is continued by lack of education and ignorance. Those that villify the Confederate Battle Flag are very confused about history and have jumped upon a bandwagon with loose wheels.

MYTH: The United States Flag represented freedom.

FACT: No chance. The US flag flew over a slave nation for over 85 years! The North tolerated slavery and acknowledged it as a Division Of Labor. The North made a vast fortune on slavery and it’s commodities. It wasn’t until the South decided to leave the Union that the North objected. The North knew it could not survive without the Southern money. That is the true definition of hypocrisy.

MYTH: Abraham Lincoln was the Great Emancipator.

FACT: While Lincoln has went down in history as the Great Emancipator, many would not care to hear his real thoughts on people of color. Martyred President Abraham Lincoln was fervently making plans to send all freed slaves to the jungles of Central America once the war was over. Knowing that African society would never allow the slaves to return back to Africa, Lincoln also did not want the slaves in the US. He thought the jungles of Central America would be the best solution and conducive to the freed slaves best interest. The only thing that kept this from happening, was his assassination.

MYTH: The South revered slavery.

FACT: A very interesting fact on slavery is that at the time the War of 1861 -1865 officially commenced, the Southern States were actually in the process of freeing all slaves in the South. Russia had freed it’s servants in 1859, and the South took great note of this. Had military intervention not been forced upon the South, a very different America would have been realized then as well as now.

MYTH: The Confederate Army was comprised of rich slave owners.

FACT: Very far from true. The vast majority of soldiers in the Confederate Army were simple men of meager income. Most of which were hard working farmers and common men. Then, as now, very few rich men ever fight a war.

MYTH: Only the North had men of color in their ranks.

FACT: Quite simply a major falsehood of history. Many blacks, both free and of their own will, joined the Confederate Army to fight for their beloved Southern home. Additionally, men of other ethnic extraction fought as well. Oriental, Mexican & Spanish men as well as Native American Indians fought with pride for the South.

Today, many men of color are members in the heritage group SCV – Sons Of Confederate Veterans. These men of color and pride rejoice in their heritage. The continued attacks on the Southern Nation, The Confederacy, and her symbols are a terrible outrage to these fine people. These attacks should be denounced with as much fervor as those who denounce the South.

MYTH: The Confederate Flags are an authorized symbol of Aryan, KKK and hate groups.

FACT: Quite the contrary. These despicable organizations such as the KKK and Aryans have taken a hallowed piece of history, and have plagued good Southern folks and the memories of fine Confederate Soldiers that fought under the flag with their perverse agenda. IN NO WAY does the Confederate Flag represent hate or violence. Heritage groups such as the SCV battle daily the damage done to a proud nation by these hate groups. The SCV denounces all hate groups, and pridefully boast HERITAGE – NOT HATE.

MYTH: The SCV – Sons Of Confederate Veterans are a racist, hate group.

FACT: This is a blatant attack on one of the finest heritage groups ever. The SCV – Sons Of Confederate Veterans are a historical, patriotic and non-political organization comprised of descendents of Confederate Soldiers and sailors dedicated to insuring that a true history of the 1861 -1865 period is preserved and presented to the public. The SCV continues to educate the public of the memory and reputation of the Confederate soldier as well as the motives for his suffering and sacrifice.

The SCV – Sons Of Confederate Veterans are in NO WAY affiliated with, nor does it recognize or condone the terrible legacy of hate groups such as the KKK.

My Very First Blog Post Ever

Way back in the spring of 2001 I decided I wanted to create a blog to capture some of my personal ideas, beliefs, life, and history. It wasn’t that I had (or have now) an amazing life that I needed to write an autobiography, I just wanted a place to put my thoughts, what better way than to use the new and upcoming technology then to make a blog. My roots remain intact today, I write for the purpose of being able to “talk out-loud” to a very non-specific audience. But then again, one couldn’t really even define one’s audience back then. Fortunately for me recently, I was trolling myself, y’all might be familiar with Googling yourself, a disgusting habit, but I’m sure most of us have done it at least once. Anyway, my original of the three blogs I have started pops up as a result. Intrigued, since I thought it was dead and buried long ago, I clicked the link. It remains as the day I left it, before moving on to pursue other pastures. But when I started reading the things I was writing it all came back to me. I then located my initial post. In a minute, I will share that with you. Oddly enough, I find myself concerned in similar ways with how religion changes the lives of the most honest men and women. Fortunately for me, many years has passed, but one thing remains the same, what history writes about us will never change, good or bad, right or wrong, historical facts will remained emblazoned in time forever.

I remain, still today, as seen by my last post and some real recent ones, a critic of organized religion because, more often then not, it is personal opinion. I remind each of you that I am a full supporter of personal freedoms and we all know that each individual will always be bound for the choices he/she makes. I may criticize, ridicule, and as many accuse me of, mock organized religion, it is purely my personal opinion in life and my choice to do so. I used to think I was seeking answers, shopping which version of truth and reality I wanted to see or be a part of. Slowly but surely religion began to be pushed out of my life, becoming pointless, and I really started looking into what we all know as mainstream organized religion. Although there is personal opinions in this inaugural post of mine, there are also many historical facts. Take from it what you will, but I think after this post I will be avoiding the topic we all call organized religion for many reasons I don’t think I need to go into now. The emails used to be entertaining but they have turned into another kind of beast, a beast that I had to learn to break and learn to ride like a horse with an attitude problem.

———— Begin Original Text —————–

Let’s Follow The Money …….. 

I have studiously avoided the subject of religion and politics in past conversations face to face with people, preferring to concentrate on personal aspects of our situation in the world. But, the fucking time has come to discuss it. This will be difficult reading to some Christian patriots out there. But if you have reached the level where you can accept that our government is not, nor has been, acting in our favor; that those in power lie; that “those who would enslave us” will use any means, any vehicle to achieve that enslavement; then you must examine the evidence without the rose colored glasses.

If we are indeed in a spiritual battle across the planet, then you must be able to recognize the devil in his many guises. Correct or incorrect? Next to “government”, his favorite institutional tool must surely be “organized religion”. What better way to lead the sheeple, his captured “flock”, into slavery. In my youth and even as an adult, I found myself being very uncomfortable with organized religion. At that time in my life I was, like most Americans, totally ignorant in regards to the New World Order agenda and the plot to destroy, or override our Constitution. Intuitively, I refused to allow government or religion to exercise much of a hold on me. For many years I struggled with what appeared to me to be an unsolvable paradox; How could I love my country to the extent of serving her military and believe in a God yet be fearful of my government and apprehensive of the church and organized religion?

Certain aspects of Christianity have always disturbed me since I was a very young age. The Crusades, the Inquisition, the burning of so-called witches and the distant look in a fanatic’s eye when they realize you aren’t going to fall for their particular interpretation of the Bible. Yet Christianity and the pursuit of the freedom to practice it, is directly responsible for the founding of this country I love so dear. Christians account for less than 30% of the world’s population. Are we supposed to believe that the other 70% of the world and all of the great men who were not Christians were and are still wrong? For us to believe that any one denomination, or religion for that matter, is the only way, is to deny the omnipotence of God and the mere idea of his actual existence in body, spirit, and mind.

Religion is man’s way of dealing with his mortality and the Bible used by Christians is much more than the proprietary property of one group of people. It is the foundation of two other religions, Judism and Islam. It is, in itself, the greatest tool for the civilization of mankind in existence and simultaneously the cause of most wars, bloodshed, divorces, and disagreements. The Bible is a history of tyranny and an epic saga of the determination of a few men to lead their people out of slavery. It, and the lessons it teaches, inspired our Constitution, our Declaration of Independence and our Bill of Rights. Yet, despite the recurring theme of God guiding men out of their slavery; of God giving man his freedom; of breaking his chains and protecting his chosen ones from harm by the leaders of the day; we have, allowed our so-called leaders to use it as a tool to return us to a slavery called organized religion.

Standing on a Sacramento Mountains summit in New Mexico in 1997, looking out over the perfect harmony of earth, air and sunlight, I knew without a doubt that something spectacular existed somewhere in our vast universe. Something more to explore, something more to explain, and something more than we, as men, could possibly ever have the capacity to understand. Each of us see divinity through eyes colored by their culture and surroundings, we have the tendency to believe others are somehow wrong in their beliefs. Evil men have seized upon this practice and used it to unite us against others, often ending in us fighting and dying for someone else’s favorite interpretation. Our country was created by men fleeing religious persecution, but some of those men, in turn, persecuted the Indians who worshipped God in their own way, through nature. Is it not said that God gave us the gift of free will. When we use it to persecute, prosecute, denigrate or force our belief system on others, we are giving in to the dark side of man. When we allow our greed, our envy, our sloth or any of the seven deadly sins, to guide us, we allow evil to rein. When one man, or group of men, seek to impose their morals or their dictates on another, we have tyranny. It is even more insidious when, under the guise of religion, we allow ourselves to be led down the path of slavery once more.

How is it done? An example from our history. Before World War 1 Joseph Stalin and Franklin D. Roosevelt conspired to dominate the world. It was their job to create a tension that would lead us into a world order. With most of Russia already dominated by the Communists, it fell to Roosevelt to create the same conditions here. In his sweeping measures of 1933, he stole our gold, gave it to the bankers and replaced it with a monetary system that they could control, inflating or deflating it as needed. There was still the need for an entity to replace the failed League of Nations. Alert Americans doomed that organization but Communist spy, Alger Hiss, and his buddies were waiting in the wings with the United Nations.

So, even before the war was over, the scene was being set for the installation of  the UN as a ruling body, with the memory of Patrick Henry still fresh in their evil little minds, the “One Worlders” had to neutralize the danger of Christians becoming involved in politics. They latched upon the fraudulently used but oft-quoted doctrine of the “separation of church and state.” The  agency used to cut the balls off the church was none other than the IRS. According to this list, excerpted from a list of 30 requirements for 501(c) (3) Churches. Put out by the Department of Treasury Internal Revenue Service Pub 1826 (9-94) Cat. no. 21096G, churches must:

1. Be incorporated (BECOME A BUSINESS)
2. Have a recognized creed and “IRS approved form of worship.”
3. Have “IRS approved code of doctrine”.
4. Have ordained ministers educated in “state accredited colleges.”
5. Be “neutral on political issues.”
6. “Have tax exempt status issued by IRS.”
7. Pastor must answer to the IRS as to “daily activities of the church.”
8. The IRS must be privy to “all financial transactions” of the church.
9. Pastor must supply “names of all donors”- make books records available.
10. May only use “IRS approved” fundraising methods.
11. Pastor will be “called to account over any stand taken against the tax system.”
12. Church “must advocate and support racial integration.” (Multiculturalism)
13. May “not” engage in activities “opposing pornography.”
14. May “not” support legislation saying “children belong to parents” rather than state.”
15. May not form a Political Action Committee nor support legislation “opposing lotteries and gambling activity.”
16. May not “oppose the public school system.”
17. May “not publicly declare” we are to “obey God rather than the government.”

These requirements only pertain to churches that want to escape paying taxes. Most businesses cannot operate at a profit today because of taxes. In fact, most small businessmen are either forced to cheat on their taxes and lie to the government simply to make ends meet and to feed their families. So the government which stole our gold in 1933, led us into a world war, imposed illegal taxation and adopted the 10 Communist planks verbatim, as stated in the Communist Manifesto, and has now invaded your churches and now controls your religion, as of 1942. Our pastors, preachers, priests and rabbi answer to the government, not God. The obedience of the Christian Coalition to the Republican party, the refusal of the ministries to endorse a true leader or to expose political corruption is now explained.

Meanwhile, Bible reading Christian Home-Schoolers are prosecuted, their children taken away because the “government court” believes unauthorized, unsupervised reading of the Bible (or the Constitution) is somehow dangerous! Guess what? They’re right! For when you read the Bible without the blinders of “organized religion” you realize you are in a constant battle against evil to maintain your freedom. If you aren’t against it, you are unwittingly for it. The Word the Bible teaches is hushed up in Church. The word you get, when you read it right, is FREEDOM. The ironic part of all this is that no religious leader has had the guts to stand up to the system, to expose the part the bankers play, or to break through the primarily Jewish control of the media. Only Louis Farrakan has been able to organize an effective protest against the new enslavement of Americans. He was able to organize a million man march and speak out against this creeping Fascism called the United States government while a white patriot group was only able to amass a few hundred. Dick Gregory led a demonstration against the CIA drug running. For all our espousal of the Constitution, God and Country, we lack the effort to bring organized religion back into control.

Feel free to look into the finances of organized religion and you will find deceipt, corruption, idolism, and money funding things you don’t even want to think about, it’s ALL a piece of history now.

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As I reviewed this very first post of mine before re-posting it here I see I used to be a little fucking angry. At what specifically or exactly why I don’t really know today. But, life was different for me back then, I had just got out of the Air Force, been divorced, and starting a new life, to include a new wife. I wasn’t a very big fan of people back then, it has taken me years to pinpoint why, but as I get older I am able to see better. Does this post from a long gone era justify my way of thinking towards organized religion today? Absolutely not, but the point I want to make is that the further I got away from religion, politics, the military, and a cheating cunt wife, I found that things began to make sense. Men are evil, nobody can deny it, it is a fact proven every single damn day. We, as human, look for a root and reason, and some continue to follow an outdated way of thinking, a way that uses FEAR as a primary tool. Do you really think that this is the right approach? Sure, we are people, we need organization, we need to be able to herd together in gatherings, but we also need room to be able to think for ourselves without being condemned for pointing out flaws in organized religion, man, government, and society.

As mentioned at the beginning of this particular post, I think I will steer away from writing about religion of any sort simply because it is taxing on the mind. It has come crystal clear that no matter what, its all just my opinion. Maybe I’m the one who is butt-hurt.  I’m tired, bored, and disappointed in many things about the response this blog gets. Most of all, I realized there are many angry motherfuckers out in the world that don’t want to see anything at all. So be it, tour is now officially over. I will be returning to posts about weekends, sex, naked women, vacations, family, tattoos, music, food, cars, guns, military, The United States of America, and all the other things, people, and places I like in this world. I would like to stay away from the negative impact that religion has had on me and the world in general. If you want depressing shit about your religion just turn on the ol’ boob tube and cook your brain a little while there. Anyway, I really appreciate ALL of the email that has been coming in, even those wishing I would go to hell, ALL very appreciated. So, well, fuck, where are we taking this little ‘ol blog from Texas? I figure it like this, since I’m already driving on the road headed to hell then I better make it a road trip to remember. With everything being said, I think, all there is left to say is to remember to eat it every day, your lady will always appreciate your continued efforts.

Encounters Of A Dreamer

I will always welcome stories from anyone who is willing to take the time to sit and write a story. I say that very collectively, y’all have seen what gets posted here on this blog and y’all know what I don’t personally post. Yet, the field of opportunities for what gets posted is as vast as the Great Plains of The United States of America, which coincidentally, is where this story comes from, all the way from the outskirts of a little town called Gettysburg, a little place located in the central region of South Dakota. Why is the location of this particular submitter important you ask? It’s simple, for me at least, as I would think people would be less inclined to do allot on the internet in a very rural town of just over eleven hundred people. When she graduated GHS in 2014, she was one of 20 some odd graduates. Seems small to me, I graduated in a class of 667 seniors. I’m just saying. Into the now, now, she is a student here in Texas attending Texas A&M in hopes of attaining her Biomedical Sciences degree. So, in my humble opinion, she has one hell of a brain to be in Texas A&M to begin with, and as y’all will soon see, what her mind sees and how it sees is amazing as well. How did she come across me? Oddly enough she was doing some surfing looking for the big city papers in South Dakota to read some local news, and multiple entries lead her here. Again, I will stress the importance of tagging blog entries. Now, at first she didn’t really want to start reading my blog, but said she was drawn in by many of my stories, she reluctantly admitted “binge reading” all night not too long ago and found herself inspired to “share” a dream she had recently with me and hopefully with the 3 people who read my blog pretty regularly. She expressed that I have a new fan and a new member of the mysterious Scorpion Army. Also, I just want to mention that she also let me know she has a few nice tattoos that I might like and she wouldn’t “mind” seeing them in the tattoo section or as a post here. Interesting, very interesting indeed. And, per her request, I will keep her identity my little secret, so for the express purpose of this post she will carry the alias of LabRat. The picture is credited to her friend who took it for her and has given The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog permission to use it at will. Without further introduction I give y’all the story she has sent me, she explained to me it was a very vivid dream she had and has yet to begin to understand.

Mr. Scorpion Sting ~

First of all I just want to tell you that, eventhough I found your blog by accident, I don’t regret a single moment I have spent there reading and looking at everything it has to offer readers. I never thought I would be writing my dream down for anybody else to read. But I am now, because I think it will help me better be able to explain it’s meaning afterwards. I’m open to the opinions of you and your readers if you care to share. By the way, I hope you don’t mind, I’m now a follower of your blog as well as have requesting to be a part of The Scorpion Army. My dream felt and seemed real, as if the memory I have is of something I actually did. I had to look into dreams and what they actually are, the simple answer is that dreams are a series of sensations, images, and deep thoughts that happen in a person’s mind during sleep. The question I fail, repeatedly, in answering is why I had the dream I did in the first place.

The first thing I remember is sitting at the edge of my bed, stretching, feeling the coolness of the air in the room as it touches my body. As I wander around a house I don’t know I see myself moving quietly in the nude, as if I’m trying not to wake someone. I began to run a hot bath, the steam was billowing out like that of an old steam engine train, I could feel the heat and moisture of the steam but when I stepped into the water I could feel nothing. I continued to stand there under the water, letting it pour across my body like it was rinsing off what I did the night before. I bent down to turn off the water, letting the remaining water drip from my hair, as it ran down my back I could feel a coolness on my skin. After drying myself off I wrapped my hair up with the towel and walked back down the really long hallway back to the room with the bed. The curtains on the windows were pulled back now, lighting the room up with vibrant colors from outside. As I listened to the birds courting in the trees I sat in front of my mirror and put on my make-up, I dried and styled my hair, painted my toenails and fingernails a blazing red, misted myself with a sweet perfume, and when I was done I pushed in the chair and left the room. I watched myself walk, from a corner in the hallway, stalking myself, watching the way I moved, and could feel everything I touched, every step of my bare feet, every breath inhaled and exhaled, and even the smells of fresh squeezed orange juice as they passed along my path.

Soon enough I was walking out the door, still nude, still bare, but as if that didn’t matter, as if it was meant to be, and as if this was the way it was supposed to be. As I passed through the front yard I looked back to see the house I just left fade into the distance, as if the yard was a great distance, but then I am at the streets edge, there are other people walking by, or jogging, and even walking their dogs, none of which paid me any attention. I even kneeled down to pet this man’s small dog, I spoke to him but he didn’t answer, and then he continues to walk away from me. I felt his shirt in my hand being pulled away as I tried to stop him, I screamed “look at me asshole” as loud as I possibly could, yet he pulled away. I chased him, I ran as fast as I could, while he walked he soon disappeared into the distance ahead of me. I found my self at the intersection of a very busy street, waiting with others at a bus stop, I listened as they spoke around me, but never to me. Out of bravery or out of ignorance, I reached out to this woman standing there, busy looking at something on her phone, and I knocked her phone out of her hand with a violent slap. Nothing, she merely has a look of disgust on her face as she picks up her now shattered phone. The other people around her began asking what happened and her only reply was that she must have just lost her grip and dropped it. Ahh, too bad I said to her. She looks right through me to smile at the man behind me who had passed on his condolences for her now dead phone. Wait, what in the fuck is going on! Why cant people see me? Why cant people feel me? Why cant people hear me?

On the bus I sat next to a man doing a crossword puzzle in the paper, when he didn’t know the word he would cheat by looking it up on his phone. I never liked cheaters. I took his bottle of water out of the seat, opened it, and began pouring it all over his paper and his lap, but what people saw was him pouring the water everywhere, very casually, and without thinking twice about it. What is going on? Who are these people around me but so far removed from me. I recognize some of the faces, this is my route, this isn’t my first time on this bus taking this trip. I will see where it leads, I will see where to get off when I know where to get off. But how will I know? I don’t even know where I’m going or why I’m going there. When the bus stops it is in front of a very large and tall building, it blocks the bright sunshine seen around me, everyone exits the bus, most of them heading inside the big building, passing through the doors, until I was all alone on what seemed like a deserted street corner. I feel very alone, scared, emotionless, and decide to go into the ominous building myself. When I get to the doors there is a man standing there in a guard’s uniform, I watched as he opened the doors for each of the people that had come before me but he was standing there like a statue before me, motionless, expressionless, seems very unhappy. I walked up to him, inches away from him, until I was pressed up against him, until I pushed myself closer, I began kissing him on his neck, caressing his chest with my hands, I let my hands slip to his zipper which I undid, holding his very limp member in my hand. I squeezed him, I dug my nails into his flesh, and he had not a single reaction. Then I feel myself being pushed forward by him, he is leaning in to pull the door open for yet another person, one which I snuck inside right behind. The marble floor was extremely cold on the bottoms of my feet, I needed to be someplace else.

I stood in the line where the people waited to walk through metal detectors, have their bagged searched, and a wand passed across them, as if to give the appearance that they really do care. My turn at the gate, nothing to put in the basket, no bag to be dug through, nothing to declare, and no magic badge to identify myself to the guards. As I passed through the metal detector it went off, there was a man 10 feet in front of me and a woman about the same distance behind me, but this thing’s sirens and lights are going nuts. The people around, to include the guards are bewildered, they are talking that the equipment has malfunctioned. No dumbasses, it didn’t malfunction, I don’t think at least, come get me, I’m right here, I feel you touching me as you come closer, but you don’t feel me, see me, smell me, or hear me, your fucking loss, I’m going in. Going in? Going in where? Follow the herd, they are all going somewhere inside this building, just follow the herd. I get on an elevator, packed so tight it was like being in a grinder at a meat market, the smells of 20 people all melting together to make one very bad smelling elevator. So much heavy breathing, it was like listening to an orgy in progress, bodies grinding, rubbing, moving, and the “ding” sounds the start of the mass separation, I’m forced out with a large number of the herd, so I just go with the flow. The moved like ants, all following the scent trail to their destination, one by one they dropped off into offices and cubicles leaving me out, I was standing there looking at people work, looking at people surfing porn on their phones, and even one woman I had followed to the bathroom because she looked suspicious, who sat in a stall, alone with her tiny little vibrator that she put to quick work. She had to bite into the flesh of her arm to contain her moans from her coworkers, faster and faster she went until she almost collapses. She wipes down the still dripping vibrator, slips into her purse, wipes herself down too, then it is over, as fast as it started, without washing her hands she touches up her make-up, tusses her hair a bit, and away she goes.

Bored with this floor I catch a ride on the executive elevator, we’re going all the way to the top floor. These men and women quickly load into a boardroom, get their coffee, muffins, and waters as they all try to find the best seat. When the big cheese enters they all stand, as if to show respect, but only thinking about their chair pushing away as they sit and making an ass out of themselves in front of the boss. Why else would they cling to their chairs? Fear? Speed? When they sit and he begins to speak I find myself on the long table, walking back and forth, looking at the view of the city out of the window. I found it fun to fuck with people’s hair, a little messing up of the different heads here and there never hurt. Then one man, as he brushed his hair back into place touched my hand, he looked right at me as if I had just been caught, stared into my eyes for a moment and then it was over. Did he know I was there? Did he know I was squatted down on the table in front of him, so close I could feel his breath on my stomach? Could he really feel me touch him? Did he really just touch my hand and feel it? Answer me motherfucker! Out of frustration I licked the side of his face, starting at the chin and ending at his forehead, he tasted like a woman. I wonder if that was the taste of his wife. Or was it his mistress? Or is he a sick pedophile fuck? Who are these people anyways? Why am I here? Needing a break I excused myself from the meeting and found myself in the office of one of the kings of this corporation. He’s living large, his office is huge, decorated with some very fine things from around the world. Probably all tax loopholes of some sort. His giant antique leather chair was very chilling to my flesh when I first sat in it, soon after I began to feel the wetness of my legs and ass on the leather, I was perspiring as I sat here, it was very warm, it was making me very sleepy. I cleared a space on this big desk to lay on it, I curled up and fell asleep right there. When I woke, it was dark in the office, dark outside, dark everywhere. I needed to get out. I find he has an elevator which goes straight to the parking garage, how convenient, so I took another ride.

The parking lot was empty, I walked around looking for a way out, then I see a car, a very nice car, with the lights on, as I approached the car I could hear it was running. When I peaked inside I see nobody, the door was open, and I got in. I put it in drive and just stepped as hard as I could on the gas pedal, I was going very fast in a short amount of time. I found the exit of the garage and headed towards it, the gate opens slowly and the guard looks at me in the car but cannot see me because the windows are tinted very dark. Then I just started driving, I drove all around the city, a place which is very different after dark, there are different people out, people who see the world in a different way. I started thinking, wondering about my day, this bizarre day which has also been fantastic. I drove that car fast, the speedometer stopped at 220mph but I kept going faster, every light on the street was green, I just kept going like there was no end, before long the blur of the city lights were far behind me, but I just keep driving. Everything comes to a dead stop, the car is halted by something, I am thrown forward through the windshield of the car, thrown so far I cant even see the car. It’s very dark, I’m very cold as I lay motionless, laid in a shallow puddle of water, face down, only hearing the sounds of the wind and rain. I wasn’t able to move or didn’t want to mover a very long time. I could feel the heat of the sun that came up in the morning, the sting of the sun as it blazed down on my back mid-day, and how I could feel relief as the sun would set again. I the final night I felt this for the last time.

The first thing I remember is sitting at the edge of my bed, stretching, feeling the coolness of the air in the room as it touches my body. As I wander around a house I don’t know I see myself moving quietly in the nude, as if I’m trying not to wake someone. I began to run a hot bath, the steam was billowing out like that of an old steam engine train, I could feel the heat and moisture of the steam but when I stepped into the water I could feel nothing. I continued to stand there under the water, letting it pour across my body like it was rinsing off what I did the night before. I bent down to turn off the water, letting the remaining water drip from my hair, as it ran down my back. I began walking, passing the room I didn’t know, walking wet, walking somewhere, walking anywhere. I went outside, sitting on the stairs of the porch, looking at the car that had been crushed into the giant tree in the front yard. I began walking towards this mangled car, remembering a car similar to this one from somewhere in time, there was blood everywhere, the interior was bathed in blood, the windshield laid a distance away from the front of the car, blood pooled on the hood and ground. I walked forward, seeing something in the distance, something glistening in the light rain, there was a nude girl’s body laid face down in a shallow puddle of blood and water. She looks peaceful, she looks as if she is part of the land, I kneel down, whipping the hair from her bloody face when she opens her eyes, looking into mine. She smiles at me, she whispers to me to that I am feeling no pain, I’m suffering no longer, she takes my hand into hers, pulls me closer until we lay together, together in peace, together forever.

When I woke up in the morning following this dream I remembered as if it happened. The girl was me, I watched myself during the entire dream. I, too, sat at the edge of my small bed, dripping in sweat, wondering what in the hell just happened. My friend and room-mate explained to me that she was woke up by me during the night when apparently I had the bath running at about 3 in the morning. As she watched me walk around the house naked she says she stopped me at the front door because I was trying to go out side for some reason. She took my hand and led me back to bed, where I was tucked in and watched for the remainder of the night. When I saw her when I first woke up she had a very scared look on her face, it reminded me of my mother’s face when she told me my grandmother I was vey closed to had passed away. I told my room-mate about my dream, it freaked her out a little, but she was there for me, held me, and brought me hot tea while I took a very hot bath to soak my aching body. She remained at my side, helping me scrub my back, then drying my hair for me, and eventually we just went down stairs, curled up on the couch and watched movies the rest of the day, old movies from the fifties, seemed like that was all that is on at that time of day. After we talked about my dream that first morning it has never been discussed again. I want to talk to her about it again, I want her to read this thing after it is written on your blog. I appreciate your willingness to share my dream with your audience. Maybe, just maybe someone out there has an explanation. Thanks again, yours truly LabRat.