The $19 Billion Defeat
Surrender.
I did not file work on this site yesterday, but the good faith payment went up one billion dollars on schedule.
I didn't file because I slept, and I slept because I found a way to lessen the effects of the rapping-on-the wall torture, and then the professional torturer left, perhaps for just the weekend, we shall see. More on that below, we have bigger fish to fry today.
Pay some attention, Dear Reader, to the Apex, North Carolina, fire and toxic cloud coming on the day of our "startle" line in our poetic battle map, the day I said I was expecting a Space War attack on the United States.
Note how this event fits the theme of this current "Mouse" attack, the startled Mouse is chased from her home by the Ploughman, the startled people of Apex are chased from their homes by the toxic fumes.
Frankly, rather than a toxic cloud over Apex I would prefer see a cloud of truth serum over the White House, resulting in our learning the truth about what really took place on 9/11, resulting in the confession that Republican American Fascism knew in advance of the 9/11 attack, and molded the attack to fit its goal of conquering America.
Dear Reader, America was sucked into the most profound con job in the history of the human race beginning about three months before 9/11.
It is telling of American journalism that the news media goes into feeding frenzies on stories of sexual perversion and child murder, easy stories, profitable stories, but leaves the story behind the 9/11 story virtually unexamined. It hasn't covered up the hidden 9/11 story, it has covered it over; likely because it would take courage to look that story in the eye.
This is the last day of this week's Space War attack pattern. Today's line in our battle map poem is the last of this verse. Tomorrow I will give you the third verse, and Monday we begin the third week of this eight-week attack.
Let's take a look at what I was expecting for this week, as stated last Saturday.
"So, next week I will watch for a repetition of this week's pattern: School, School, Green, Sports Plane Crash. I am not saying this pattern will continue, but I will watch for it; and if it does I can expect it to continue every week for the following six weeks."
While the week is not quite over, and the game is not over until the last ball is pitched, I would give myself a score of three out of four so far.
There were two school events on Monday, a man sighted with a gun near a school in Nevada and the terrible event in Nickel Mine, Pennsylvania. The Nevada story was getting much TV coverage until it was, naturally, dropped when the Pennsylvania story broke. This filled out the "School, School" expectation.
I consider the Apex poison cloud an ecological (Green) event, and very nicely documented in advance.
Missing is the Sports Plane Crash, but the day is not over until it disappears at the International Date Line.
Those fish fried, let's return to how I found respite from the professional-level sleep deprivation torture I have undergone almost every day since George W. Bush usurped the White House.
There are two effects from this torture as it is practiced at this motel I was forced into after I was forced out of my last home, one is sleep deprivation which you might readily understand, and the other is percussion, which might be more difficult to understand.
Lying with my head only inches from the wall, as the motel bed is arranged, when the cowardly American torturer raps his knuckles on the wall to awaken me or keep me from falling asleep the percussion becomes increasingly more painful over time. I truly hate to give in to these cowardly Americans, but when it became clear on Wednesday I was approaching death I started sleeping on the floor.
The cowardly American who stays in the next room unregistered, who stays in a room management says is vacant, could still awaken me, but he could not cause me the percussion pain, so while my sleep was frequently interrupted Wednesday and Thursday my bruised brain was able to recover from the percussion.
On Friday real people moved into the room, women with small children, and they did not torture me at all, and in my exhaustion I was able to sleep (on the floor) from early afternoon to six a.m. Of course, I am an old man and there were about six trips to the bathroom during that time; and there was one short sit-down at my computer to see what email the government pigs were allowing through.
It's a shame to be 67 years old and have the choice of sleeping on the floor like a dog or being tortured to death through the wall, but this is America, and that explains a lot.
I'm truly sorry man's domain,
Has broken nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle,
At me, thy poor, earth-borne companion,
AN' FELLOW MORTAL!
I did not file work on this site yesterday, but the good faith payment went up one billion dollars on schedule.
I didn't file because I slept, and I slept because I found a way to lessen the effects of the rapping-on-the wall torture, and then the professional torturer left, perhaps for just the weekend, we shall see. More on that below, we have bigger fish to fry today.
Pay some attention, Dear Reader, to the Apex, North Carolina, fire and toxic cloud coming on the day of our "startle" line in our poetic battle map, the day I said I was expecting a Space War attack on the United States.
Note how this event fits the theme of this current "Mouse" attack, the startled Mouse is chased from her home by the Ploughman, the startled people of Apex are chased from their homes by the toxic fumes.
Frankly, rather than a toxic cloud over Apex I would prefer see a cloud of truth serum over the White House, resulting in our learning the truth about what really took place on 9/11, resulting in the confession that Republican American Fascism knew in advance of the 9/11 attack, and molded the attack to fit its goal of conquering America.
Dear Reader, America was sucked into the most profound con job in the history of the human race beginning about three months before 9/11.
It is telling of American journalism that the news media goes into feeding frenzies on stories of sexual perversion and child murder, easy stories, profitable stories, but leaves the story behind the 9/11 story virtually unexamined. It hasn't covered up the hidden 9/11 story, it has covered it over; likely because it would take courage to look that story in the eye.
This is the last day of this week's Space War attack pattern. Today's line in our battle map poem is the last of this verse. Tomorrow I will give you the third verse, and Monday we begin the third week of this eight-week attack.
Let's take a look at what I was expecting for this week, as stated last Saturday.
"So, next week I will watch for a repetition of this week's pattern: School, School, Green, Sports Plane Crash. I am not saying this pattern will continue, but I will watch for it; and if it does I can expect it to continue every week for the following six weeks."
While the week is not quite over, and the game is not over until the last ball is pitched, I would give myself a score of three out of four so far.
There were two school events on Monday, a man sighted with a gun near a school in Nevada and the terrible event in Nickel Mine, Pennsylvania. The Nevada story was getting much TV coverage until it was, naturally, dropped when the Pennsylvania story broke. This filled out the "School, School" expectation.
I consider the Apex poison cloud an ecological (Green) event, and very nicely documented in advance.
Missing is the Sports Plane Crash, but the day is not over until it disappears at the International Date Line.
Those fish fried, let's return to how I found respite from the professional-level sleep deprivation torture I have undergone almost every day since George W. Bush usurped the White House.
There are two effects from this torture as it is practiced at this motel I was forced into after I was forced out of my last home, one is sleep deprivation which you might readily understand, and the other is percussion, which might be more difficult to understand.
Lying with my head only inches from the wall, as the motel bed is arranged, when the cowardly American torturer raps his knuckles on the wall to awaken me or keep me from falling asleep the percussion becomes increasingly more painful over time. I truly hate to give in to these cowardly Americans, but when it became clear on Wednesday I was approaching death I started sleeping on the floor.
The cowardly American who stays in the next room unregistered, who stays in a room management says is vacant, could still awaken me, but he could not cause me the percussion pain, so while my sleep was frequently interrupted Wednesday and Thursday my bruised brain was able to recover from the percussion.
On Friday real people moved into the room, women with small children, and they did not torture me at all, and in my exhaustion I was able to sleep (on the floor) from early afternoon to six a.m. Of course, I am an old man and there were about six trips to the bathroom during that time; and there was one short sit-down at my computer to see what email the government pigs were allowing through.
It's a shame to be 67 years old and have the choice of sleeping on the floor like a dog or being tortured to death through the wall, but this is America, and that explains a lot.
I'm truly sorry man's domain,
Has broken nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle,
At me, thy poor, earth-borne companion,
AN' FELLOW MORTAL!
posted by Virgil Kret at 6:43 PM
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