The Timing Code

Yesterday I outlined for you the approaching space war attack on the rich and powerful of America,  liberal and conservative, Democrat and Republican, Christian and Jew, and today I have the Timing Code for that attack..
 
It is one thing to say America is going to get its just reward; but it is another to say just when that reward will be presented.  That is part of the art of this work.
 
To get the Timing Code we go back to the place on our original battle map called "Slippery Slope", that place where the United States of America began its slide into Darkness; that is,  when the destruction of New Orleans took place.  You do understand, don't you, that America's slide into Darkness and Defeat as begun?
 
On the surface, the destruction of New Orleans was a good thing for the rich and powerful of America because there is money to be squandered and stolen there, and land to be bought at five cents on the dollar, and blacks to be replaced by whites, and casinos to be built, and tall Vegas whores to be flown in, and slick lizard lounge hotspots to replace scruffy old jazz clubs; and it all will come out of your pockets.
 
Disaster means windfall profits for the rich and greater power for the politicians.
 
However, while it looks as if the poor will suffer more and more as our Earth moves toward death, her deathbed shudders tearing houses apart and making homeless and rootless those poor they do not kill, God is now going to begin visibly killing and damning the rich; Jesus told you that, and I am telling you that, too.
 
We were talking about the Timing Code.  I will get there soon but first I want to talk to you about the shape of the war between our God and Satan's Rich and how it will become visible as God's intervention becomes greater, and greater, and greater, and inexorably greater.
 
Yesterday I described to you the shape of the coming maneuver, called "Roll-Over", the Timing Code to which I am today meandering toward; but for the moment I ask you to look at the grandeur and scope of God's larger battle plan.
 
Please picture in your mind a pyramid as you pictured trench lines yesterday.  It is a flat pyramid like the government-printed food pyramid that comes out now and then.  See the top three percent of the pyramid to be occupied by the rich, and below them in expanding layers are the somewhat rich, the not so rich, the middle class, the second class, the third class, and the miserably poor.
 
The plan of Republican American Fascism is to exploit the approaching death of our Earth by using the crisis to save the rich and kill off the rest.
 
God's plan is just the opposite except that God is only going to kill as many of the rich that it takes to bring a point of understanding among the rich that they would be better off saving their souls from Hell than profiting from misery.
 
Think of the phrase, "Get Rich Quick", but consider "Quick" to be the quick of the finger that hurts so bad when the nail is trimmed too short and you will begin to understand God's battle plan.  God is going to trim the rich until their quick is touched.
 
Now, finally, to the Timing Code.  Bear with me, this will take about nine more paragraphs to get to it.
 
The lost battle map was based on a most beautiful six-week hike I took through untrailed California wilderness moving east to west to the Pacific Ocean.  During the years of American torture-enslavement I have taken many such long hikes, but this was the longest and the most difficult, and the only one in which the goal was the Pacific, a good goal because even a fool could not miss it.
 
The place marked "Slippery Slope" was a place where in fact I almost slipped to my death...no, that is not true because God told me about Slippery Slope the day before I reached it, and told me I would slide down a steep incline but be saved.
 
God reminded me of a dream I had when I was about eight years old.  In the dream my  father, mother, brother and I were driving through the Rocky Mountains in our 1941 Plymouth coupe and we stopped to look down the mountain slope to the valley below.
 
Standing there, seeing the tall northern firs looking like mown grass from that height, I slipped and began sliding down the slope toward a precipice and a fall into the valley, but I was stopped when I ran into a burned out tree right at the edge of that precipice.  At that point I woke up.
 
That was the dream God reminded me of.  I made a note of my remembering that dream in my log of the hike; and the next evening, hiking too late in failing light, hiking on deer trails where no man had walked in 50 years, I decided I could make my way down a sleep slope to the stream, but soon found myself in trouble because it was too steep to go down and impossible to climb back up; and there I was foolish hiker in fool's danger.
 
I felt I could inch my way down if I lowered my pack ahead of me on a line attached to a bush, then when I reached the pack attach the line to another bush and lower further, and so on, artfully sliding on my ass as I went.
 
Well, in the fading light I did not realize that I was approaching a point where dirt covered with leaves became granite covered with leaves, slicker than any child's slide, slicker than any politicians lies, and I began sliding on my back faster and faster and faster, and as I passed my pack at the end of its line I gave it a whack to start it sliding beside me.
 
Aw, Dear Reader, what should appear rapidly approaching me as I was sliding toward my death but a fallen tree under which I was about to slide, and I raised my legs and stopped myself on it, and my pack slid on making a whirring sound it was sliding so fast, then the sound stopped, no sound for what seemed like a few long seconds, and then a crash as my pack hit the boulders of the stream beneath the cliff I had been sliding toward, breaking its frame as I would have broken my back.
 
So, let's make that tree that saved my life the start of the Timing Code, and continue with this narrative tomorrow.  As we do, remember I am the fool who slipped and stopped himself on a tree just as God said I would, and the rich and the powerful are that pack sliding on, sliding on, sliding on, inexorably sliding on, just as I say they will.