Fleeing In Time

 
Like a moment in Time fleeing from now or then or when, we watch the moment of the death of this Earth rushing toward us.
 
Me?  I am waiting for news; and, you?, you do not yet realize that what is left out of the news is what is going on.
 
Like a soldier in a hole under fire, I am waiting for the moment to make my move.
 
You've been there, perhaps, the tracers like fire from a fire hose; and you know that gunner is going to have to stop sooner or later or his barrel will melt; and you calculate your state of Grace; you judge the moment when you can step over your grave and get to another hole; then you make your move.
 
There has been a lot of talk in the news about the first anniversary of the great tsunami, but no talk of how I documented that massive calamity in advance so perfectly.
 
My readers knew it, my readers including NBC; but NBC killed that story just as it kills all stories about my successes.  Let me look at a dirty picture and the whole world knows, let me name the date of the greatest disaster in modern human history ten days in advance and it is of no interest.  It is as if this work is but a scoreboard of imperfections to be watched, not the clock of Doom tick-tick-ticking away.
 
America's torture-enslavement of me should have been ended so many times, just for the quality of my work if not for decency's sake.
 
My work includes, but is not limited to, reporting the tsunami in advance, reporting 9/11 in advance, reporting Challenger in advance, reporting a dozen air crashes in advance, reporting three presidential assassination attempts in advance, reporting the murder of John Lennon in advance; reporting the Jonesboro school shooting in advance; but none of that was more important than my neighbors' right to torture me to death; just as a silly schoolgirl, my landlady's great-grandchild, tortures me to death at this moment as I write these words.
 
Did you notice that the big earthquake at Bam, Iran, took place on December 26, 2003; and the great quake/tsunami took place on December 26, 2005?  Coincidence?  Believe that if you like, until the flames begin to crackle around your toes and there is no more time for false beliefs, false hopes, false hearts and false presidents.
 
Just for the fun of it, consider the closeness in latitude between the two quake events, see Bam as the sound of the gun and see the great quake/tsunami as the bullet hitting exactly two years later.  That is your Doom, snickering.  Do you know that in my advance documentation of the quake/tsunami I used a bull's eye as my metaphor?
 
The code in that pinpoint documentation was Bingo-Zero.  Your masters can look it up for you in my work of that time.  I cannot show it to you because your masters destroyed the Internet site that work was on.   You steal life from me; your masters steal life from you; your masters commits suicide.
 
If you draw a mental line from the quake site in Iran to the quake site just off Indonesia, perhaps you can picture that line as a crack in this egg, this Earth.  From this egg will be born a Phoenix of fire; but you, Dear Reader, are but microbes on this egg's shell.
 
By all means, obey your masters and continue to torture me to death.
 
A long, long time ago, well, about 25 years ago, I asked God where God was gong to hit you.  God said, "Right between the eyes."  Hmmm?  Iran-Indonesia; and I always figured it would be between Iraq and Iran.  Yet another example of my imperfection.
 
-0-
 
I am beginning with today's report a series of classified ads.
 
Due to irregular heartbeat caused by the intense torture I have undergone at this residence in Atascadero, California, I have had to give notice and must leave by January 3.
 
So yet again the United States of America has driven the Telepath from his home.  For America, now ass-deep in Hell, this is some kind of cowardly victory; for the Telepath, now 66 and living on heart medication, this is a real pain in the ass.
 
I am looking for a country or a state or a community that will give my asylum from America's tyranny.  That means a place where there will be no false witness against the existence of my audible mental telepathy and the history of America's persecution of me.  I have a car and a passport and money to get there; but once there I never want to move again.
 
Virgil Kret
Icnews360@aol.com
P.O. Box 43
Morro Bay, CA  93443
(805) 462-9094