The $316 Billion Defeat
Jews Jaws Zero
Shark America Ten
Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 153
Note: Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2007
Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event
Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle--Defense
Today's Code is "His day is marching on".
I use the term "psycho-fascism" almost daily; and this may eventually be a term I have coined that will become part of the language. Since we have had psycho-fascism running rampant around here for the past days--far above the usual dosage--today might be a good day to further define the term.
Psycho-fascism in its basic form is when someone does something to you, and you know that person is doing it, and that person knows that person is doing it, and that person says you are insane for saying or thinking that person is doing it.
The strength of this psycho-fascism compounds in Malthusian proportions when two or more people declare the same lie to be a truth, such as George W. Bush and Condolezza Rice saying America does not torture, when the whole world knows it does.
A more prosaic example:
"You're messing around with another woman," says the wife to the husband. "You're crazy," says the husband, while he is in the shower washing the smell of the other woman off him. The other woman says, "No, you are crazy for thinking I would do something like that to you, you are my best friend."
This form of psycho-fascism is often a movie theme, though never given as name as far as I know.
Psycho-fascism has ruled my life since God gave me the gift of audible mental telepathy.
I am audibly telepathic, millions of Americans know I am audibly telepathic, but millions of Americans say I am insane for saying or thinking I am audibly telepathic.
From the muck of that psycho-fascist lie have grown many evils; because once the total power that lie established over me became apparent people realized total wickedness could be practiced against me with joyful immunity-impunity. It was as if all Americans were given license to be Adolph Hitler and I were the only Jew in the world; it was as if rape had been made legal.
So, fast forward this story to Smallville some 36 years after God gave me my Coat of Many Colors, my audible mental telepathy, where the harassment and abuse I have been describing for you these past four months has been going on.
(Of course, the same harassment and abuse have gone on in every community I have attempted to live in since I first put on that Coat of Many Colors; and the next place I attempt to live, and the next place, and the next place, will almost certainly practice the same forms of torture I suffer in Smallville.)
As I was describing to you last week, the anger at me and hatred of me by my psycho-fascist neighbors at 316 Second Street and 302 Third Street had begun to boil over because of the "Counter-Attack In Place" stance I had taken.
My sitting in my front yard in the evening looking steadily at 316 Second Street through dark glasses while sipping an after-work cup of red wine and ginger ale drove them crazy, no matter that the cowardly "man" who lives there has been casting smirky eyes at me for four months.
The tenseness had been growing daily, with what appeared to be about eight of the doper friends of the doper at 316 Second Street patrolling and taking up guardian positions in front of the house, changing the odds from about two-to-one to about ten-to-one.
There was no thought, of course, that the attacks on me for four months had brought on that Counter-Attack In Place strategy. I was being threatening to the people who had threatened to burn my home down with me in it.
Uppity Nigger; Uppity Virgil.
Ten-to-one odds, no matter, I am used to 250 million-to-one...and then came the cowardly sneak attack. They brought in a ringer, the brought in the owner of the house in which I live as caretaker.
(Of course, the psycho-fascists would say there was no connection between one and the other, and a thousand preachers would swear on a thousand Bibles that was the case; so let's say it was coincidence since we make our stand elsewhere; but it was not a coincidence.)
At the moment of first contact with the owner I knew he had an agenda in mind, and that his agenda was not just in terminating our verbal contract, which would have been easy enough to do with a word or two, but his interest was in making that termination as traumatic and argumentative as possible.
What spilled out over the next couple days were the standard American exaggerations and falsifications that come with such angry termination scenes, with insult after insult after insult; and the terms of our verbal contract rewritten and rewritten from what it had been.
Overlooked was the fact that I had sent him an email almost every week telling him what I was doing, and when he said don't so something I would not, but that was rare, and never was I asked to do something on the property I did not do.
Then, a few hours after he arrived he did something he had never done before. For the first time in my association with this person he used the Coward's Cough several times as I started to doze off at night. and used it in a mean, hard way.
(This Cowards' Cough is a standard American torture of me, and therefore well developed. The striking me with the Coward's Cough just as I doze off is exceptionally cruel and has been practiced hundreds if not thousands of times over the 30-plus years of America's torture-enslavement of me.)
Later the owner would claim to be angry at me for the poor work I had done, but in fact he was angry at me before he drove up to the house unannounced.
Of course I would not mention his use of the Cowards' Cough because it is a primary agreed-upon psycho-fascist lie that such torture does not exist, and that my complaining would result in a quick trip to the nut house.but, Thankfully he did it only a few times on that one occasion.
His anger at me seethed out in constant verbal abuse; and after a day of attempting to work with him and being insulted at every turn, I asked him why he was being so rude; and he said I was "delusional" for thinking he was being rude. The standard psycho-fascist attack. You are crazy for thinking I am doing what I am doing.
A few days before the owner arrived, I had hurt my right foot and walking had become painful, so after taking abuse after abuse as I was working with him on the property I just sat down and worked with him no more. This strike came after he had ordered me to roto-till a garden and plant vegetables.
This is not Central Africa, this is Northeastern California, and over 4,000 feet above sea level, the last day of July is too late to plant vegetables. I told him that and he said, no, it was not too late.
It was clear the object was to order me to do work that need not be done while he hounded me with insults.
So, as the days grinded by and it became clear there was no helping the situation, that the handwriting was on the wall, he finally said I had 30 days to leave; I said ok, that is no problem, then he said no, I want you to leave now and I said, call the Sheriff and he will just tell you to file an eviction notice.
With this his anger grew to levels I found dangerously bizarre, like filling the toilet bowl with toilet paper for me to dig out, and like putting bricks in the garbage can supposedly for me to carry two blocks on garbage day.
Finally, just before leaving last night banged on the door of the house angrily at about 9:30. as if he expected me to leave my work on my computer to open it for him, even though he had a key, and soon thereafter he drove away fuming and making angry sputters.
Not knowing what to expect from this level of anger, I stayed in my room, my door locked and wedged shut with heavy objects. I was so determined not to leave the room until it was daylight that I even kept a container to urinnate in...we old dudes urinate a lot at night.
That is, I had made of my room a "Safe Room" so that anyone coming in would have to have broken in with great trouble and noise, and would have broken into my zone of legal lethal defense..
Of course, after he sputtered off, hopefully not to be seen again before I leave, the neighbors at 316 Second Street and 302 Third Street resumed their old nighttime harassments.
It is not the leaving I mind, it is being abused and ordered to leave immediately. I have no legal defense against American abuse of me (except through appeal to God, which has proven to be pretty good defene) but the law is clear about eviction.
I am sorry to be writing about so much petty crap today, Dear Reader, but petty crap is America.
Tangent to all this, I must note that the Smallvillain children who were so friendly a few weeks ago now look at me with anger, or fear to look at me at all, and I wonder what horrible things they have been told about me.
With these children of Smallville one can see how psycho-fascism is passed on to the next generation.. What is it now? Three generations since the torture-enslavement of me began? Each generation has grown up to be worse than the generation before in its torture of me.
What has made these children so angry at and fearful of me? What wickedness have I been accused of? Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of American men and women?
On the God's Bubble front, the Robins who have befriended me, were very disturbed by all of this. They understand territory and they understood the Bad Noisey Man had territorial rights over the Good Quiet Man.
This morning, the first morning after the Bad Noisy Man had left, one of the Robins gently hit my window screen, asking me to come out; but still their sense of safe distance with me ha been shattered along with the God Bubble we shared; where they would have stayed five feet from me they now stay 25 feet away.
Then, happily, late in the day Mr. Robin came up close to me and began to hang around.
So anyway, I must be out of this place four weeks from today, and hopefully I will be out much sooner, and the psycho-fascists of Smallville will think they have won; and when the owner of the house moves in their temporary alliance with him against me will be forgotten and their old hatred for him will return, because in fact he is a rude and hateful person, and they are in fact people who love to hate.
And where shall I go? My Old Pal God wants me to stay here for a while; and anywhere I might go that same psycho-fascism would be waiting for me anyway, so why not stay in Smallville for a while, where the odds are probably only 100-to-one, and where I have a few good friends?
Meanwhile, back in the real world, some guy campaigning for the Democratic nomination, I think he is named after the State of Alabama, says he would consider invading Pakistan. Pakistan? What an idiot; but this is how American politicians are, ringing whatever tin bell they think will bring the voter-cows home.
Pakistan? What an idiot. Pakistan? What an idiot. Pakistan? What an idiot.
Also in the news, Britney Spears is said to have yelled, "I will kill you!" at some Paparazzi-Nazis who were hounding her in Las Vegas, and her bodyguard, Cesar Julio Camera (Hmmm? Interesting Time Poetry.) is said to have pushed one of them up against a wall, and could now face up to six months in jail.
I hate the Paparazzi-Nazis; they do so much damage to people; and they have hounded this poor young woman to distraction. They are the mosquitos of humankind. Oddly, one of the Paparazzi-Nazis is named Andrew Deetz, close in name to a mosquito spray, Deetz, not Andrew. (Hmmm? I interesting Time Poetry)
If I knew his address I would send the bodyguard, Mr. Camera, a medal. (Hmmm? interesting Time Poetry--Camera, Paparazzi-Nazis.)
And finally, a serious example of God's artillery, the collapse of a bridge between Minneapolis and St. Paul.
Contact Virgil Kret at Icnews360@aol.com.
Legal Defense, Survival & Presidential Campaign Fund:
Virgil Kret
I.C. News
P.O. Box 43
Morro Bay, CA 93443
USA
George W. Bush will destroy the world.
George W. Bush will destroy the world.
His cry of misery will be heard around the world; then the chorus will sing "Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!"
George W. Bush is a perfect storm of stupidity, dishonesty and vanity.
George W. Bush will destroy the world.
"In my strategy, the training for killing enemies is by way of many contests, fighting for survival, discovering the meaning of life and death, learning the Way of the sword, judging the strength of attacks and understanding the Way of the "edge and ridge" of the sword." Miyamoto Musashi, 17th Century.
George W. Bush will destroy the world.
The world is George W. Bush's Iraq. The world is George W. Bush's New Orleans. The world cannot bear the fascist, insane stupidity of George W. Bush.
George W. Bush will destroy the world.
The most important news story in the world today, and the most important political stance in America today is this:
George W. Bush will destroy the world.
Shark America Ten
Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 153
Note: Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2007
Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event
Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle--Defense
Today's Code is "His day is marching on".
I use the term "psycho-fascism" almost daily; and this may eventually be a term I have coined that will become part of the language. Since we have had psycho-fascism running rampant around here for the past days--far above the usual dosage--today might be a good day to further define the term.
Psycho-fascism in its basic form is when someone does something to you, and you know that person is doing it, and that person knows that person is doing it, and that person says you are insane for saying or thinking that person is doing it.
The strength of this psycho-fascism compounds in Malthusian proportions when two or more people declare the same lie to be a truth, such as George W. Bush and Condolezza Rice saying America does not torture, when the whole world knows it does.
A more prosaic example:
"You're messing around with another woman," says the wife to the husband. "You're crazy," says the husband, while he is in the shower washing the smell of the other woman off him. The other woman says, "No, you are crazy for thinking I would do something like that to you, you are my best friend."
This form of psycho-fascism is often a movie theme, though never given as name as far as I know.
Psycho-fascism has ruled my life since God gave me the gift of audible mental telepathy.
I am audibly telepathic, millions of Americans know I am audibly telepathic, but millions of Americans say I am insane for saying or thinking I am audibly telepathic.
From the muck of that psycho-fascist lie have grown many evils; because once the total power that lie established over me became apparent people realized total wickedness could be practiced against me with joyful immunity-impunity. It was as if all Americans were given license to be Adolph Hitler and I were the only Jew in the world; it was as if rape had been made legal.
So, fast forward this story to Smallville some 36 years after God gave me my Coat of Many Colors, my audible mental telepathy, where the harassment and abuse I have been describing for you these past four months has been going on.
(Of course, the same harassment and abuse have gone on in every community I have attempted to live in since I first put on that Coat of Many Colors; and the next place I attempt to live, and the next place, and the next place, will almost certainly practice the same forms of torture I suffer in Smallville.)
As I was describing to you last week, the anger at me and hatred of me by my psycho-fascist neighbors at 316 Second Street and 302 Third Street had begun to boil over because of the "Counter-Attack In Place" stance I had taken.
My sitting in my front yard in the evening looking steadily at 316 Second Street through dark glasses while sipping an after-work cup of red wine and ginger ale drove them crazy, no matter that the cowardly "man" who lives there has been casting smirky eyes at me for four months.
The tenseness had been growing daily, with what appeared to be about eight of the doper friends of the doper at 316 Second Street patrolling and taking up guardian positions in front of the house, changing the odds from about two-to-one to about ten-to-one.
There was no thought, of course, that the attacks on me for four months had brought on that Counter-Attack In Place strategy. I was being threatening to the people who had threatened to burn my home down with me in it.
Uppity Nigger; Uppity Virgil.
Ten-to-one odds, no matter, I am used to 250 million-to-one...and then came the cowardly sneak attack. They brought in a ringer, the brought in the owner of the house in which I live as caretaker.
(Of course, the psycho-fascists would say there was no connection between one and the other, and a thousand preachers would swear on a thousand Bibles that was the case; so let's say it was coincidence since we make our stand elsewhere; but it was not a coincidence.)
At the moment of first contact with the owner I knew he had an agenda in mind, and that his agenda was not just in terminating our verbal contract, which would have been easy enough to do with a word or two, but his interest was in making that termination as traumatic and argumentative as possible.
What spilled out over the next couple days were the standard American exaggerations and falsifications that come with such angry termination scenes, with insult after insult after insult; and the terms of our verbal contract rewritten and rewritten from what it had been.
Overlooked was the fact that I had sent him an email almost every week telling him what I was doing, and when he said don't so something I would not, but that was rare, and never was I asked to do something on the property I did not do.
Then, a few hours after he arrived he did something he had never done before. For the first time in my association with this person he used the Coward's Cough several times as I started to doze off at night. and used it in a mean, hard way.
(This Cowards' Cough is a standard American torture of me, and therefore well developed. The striking me with the Coward's Cough just as I doze off is exceptionally cruel and has been practiced hundreds if not thousands of times over the 30-plus years of America's torture-enslavement of me.)
Later the owner would claim to be angry at me for the poor work I had done, but in fact he was angry at me before he drove up to the house unannounced.
Of course I would not mention his use of the Cowards' Cough because it is a primary agreed-upon psycho-fascist lie that such torture does not exist, and that my complaining would result in a quick trip to the nut house.but, Thankfully he did it only a few times on that one occasion.
His anger at me seethed out in constant verbal abuse; and after a day of attempting to work with him and being insulted at every turn, I asked him why he was being so rude; and he said I was "delusional" for thinking he was being rude. The standard psycho-fascist attack. You are crazy for thinking I am doing what I am doing.
A few days before the owner arrived, I had hurt my right foot and walking had become painful, so after taking abuse after abuse as I was working with him on the property I just sat down and worked with him no more. This strike came after he had ordered me to roto-till a garden and plant vegetables.
This is not Central Africa, this is Northeastern California, and over 4,000 feet above sea level, the last day of July is too late to plant vegetables. I told him that and he said, no, it was not too late.
It was clear the object was to order me to do work that need not be done while he hounded me with insults.
So, as the days grinded by and it became clear there was no helping the situation, that the handwriting was on the wall, he finally said I had 30 days to leave; I said ok, that is no problem, then he said no, I want you to leave now and I said, call the Sheriff and he will just tell you to file an eviction notice.
With this his anger grew to levels I found dangerously bizarre, like filling the toilet bowl with toilet paper for me to dig out, and like putting bricks in the garbage can supposedly for me to carry two blocks on garbage day.
Finally, just before leaving last night banged on the door of the house angrily at about 9:30. as if he expected me to leave my work on my computer to open it for him, even though he had a key, and soon thereafter he drove away fuming and making angry sputters.
Not knowing what to expect from this level of anger, I stayed in my room, my door locked and wedged shut with heavy objects. I was so determined not to leave the room until it was daylight that I even kept a container to urinnate in...we old dudes urinate a lot at night.
That is, I had made of my room a "Safe Room" so that anyone coming in would have to have broken in with great trouble and noise, and would have broken into my zone of legal lethal defense..
Of course, after he sputtered off, hopefully not to be seen again before I leave, the neighbors at 316 Second Street and 302 Third Street resumed their old nighttime harassments.
It is not the leaving I mind, it is being abused and ordered to leave immediately. I have no legal defense against American abuse of me (except through appeal to God, which has proven to be pretty good defene) but the law is clear about eviction.
I am sorry to be writing about so much petty crap today, Dear Reader, but petty crap is America.
Tangent to all this, I must note that the Smallvillain children who were so friendly a few weeks ago now look at me with anger, or fear to look at me at all, and I wonder what horrible things they have been told about me.
With these children of Smallville one can see how psycho-fascism is passed on to the next generation.. What is it now? Three generations since the torture-enslavement of me began? Each generation has grown up to be worse than the generation before in its torture of me.
What has made these children so angry at and fearful of me? What wickedness have I been accused of? Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of American men and women?
On the God's Bubble front, the Robins who have befriended me, were very disturbed by all of this. They understand territory and they understood the Bad Noisey Man had territorial rights over the Good Quiet Man.
This morning, the first morning after the Bad Noisy Man had left, one of the Robins gently hit my window screen, asking me to come out; but still their sense of safe distance with me ha been shattered along with the God Bubble we shared; where they would have stayed five feet from me they now stay 25 feet away.
Then, happily, late in the day Mr. Robin came up close to me and began to hang around.
So anyway, I must be out of this place four weeks from today, and hopefully I will be out much sooner, and the psycho-fascists of Smallville will think they have won; and when the owner of the house moves in their temporary alliance with him against me will be forgotten and their old hatred for him will return, because in fact he is a rude and hateful person, and they are in fact people who love to hate.
And where shall I go? My Old Pal God wants me to stay here for a while; and anywhere I might go that same psycho-fascism would be waiting for me anyway, so why not stay in Smallville for a while, where the odds are probably only 100-to-one, and where I have a few good friends?
Meanwhile, back in the real world, some guy campaigning for the Democratic nomination, I think he is named after the State of Alabama, says he would consider invading Pakistan. Pakistan? What an idiot; but this is how American politicians are, ringing whatever tin bell they think will bring the voter-cows home.
Pakistan? What an idiot. Pakistan? What an idiot. Pakistan? What an idiot.
Also in the news, Britney Spears is said to have yelled, "I will kill you!" at some Paparazzi-Nazis who were hounding her in Las Vegas, and her bodyguard, Cesar Julio Camera (Hmmm? Interesting Time Poetry.) is said to have pushed one of them up against a wall, and could now face up to six months in jail.
I hate the Paparazzi-Nazis; they do so much damage to people; and they have hounded this poor young woman to distraction. They are the mosquitos of humankind. Oddly, one of the Paparazzi-Nazis is named Andrew Deetz, close in name to a mosquito spray, Deetz, not Andrew. (Hmmm? I interesting Time Poetry)
If I knew his address I would send the bodyguard, Mr. Camera, a medal. (Hmmm? interesting Time Poetry--Camera, Paparazzi-Nazis.)
And finally, a serious example of God's artillery, the collapse of a bridge between Minneapolis and St. Paul.
Contact Virgil Kret at Icnews360@aol.com.
Legal Defense, Survival & Presidential Campaign Fund:
Virgil Kret
I.C. News
P.O. Box 43
Morro Bay, CA 93443
USA
George W. Bush will destroy the world.
George W. Bush will destroy the world.
His cry of misery will be heard around the world; then the chorus will sing "Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!"
George W. Bush is a perfect storm of stupidity, dishonesty and vanity.
George W. Bush will destroy the world.
"In my strategy, the training for killing enemies is by way of many contests, fighting for survival, discovering the meaning of life and death, learning the Way of the sword, judging the strength of attacks and understanding the Way of the "edge and ridge" of the sword." Miyamoto Musashi, 17th Century.
George W. Bush will destroy the world.
The world is George W. Bush's Iraq. The world is George W. Bush's New Orleans. The world cannot bear the fascist, insane stupidity of George W. Bush.
George W. Bush will destroy the world.
The most important news story in the world today, and the most important political stance in America today is this:
George W. Bush will destroy the world.
posted by Virgil Kret at 8:45 PM
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