Tatoo, Part 11

The $628 Billion Defeat

Jews Jaws Three Down

Shark America Seven Up

Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 237

Virgil's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923

Expect a Profound Act of God Against Israel & USA on June 7, 2008

Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2008

George W. Bush Will Destroy the World

Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event

Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: The Secret Story, Tatoo (11)

Today's code is "121st Day, Last Year".

God loves me for the way I disdain you Americans and your petty fascism.Noting the death of Albert Hofman, the discoverer of LSD, at 102; proof positive that acid will kill you.

I don't think I have ever talked to you about the few times I dropped acid, as we called taking the hallucinogenic in those days, or mentioned that I have always; been glad I did.

I was glad for a number of reasons. It was one of my first acts of self-defense as the US government's attack on me increased; and the experience alone was spirit-awakening; and it gave me an added layer of camouflage--(he dropped acid, what value is there in anything he says after that?)

You see, this great battle with the United States of America I am compelled by America to fight does not concern my ideas, it concerns America's claimed right to attack an American citizen no matter what it assumes his ideas to be; and ironically when America, in the form of US Naval Intelligence, first attacked me in Tokyo in 1967, my ideas were so patriotic they would make you want to puke.

We learn from experience what a wicked country we live in, but that's another story.

I first took acid when it had become clear there was no stopping, by reasoning or by pleading, the US government's attack on me, nor the blackballing of me from journalism by the American government's slut, the American news media.

I had just entered the Siberia of blacklisting, and was married to a Jewish woman who did not understand the concept of Truth, and except for God I had no kindred spirits from sea to shining sea.

There was a story going around about American military intelligence in those early years of the Seventies, about the government pigs exploring the mind-rape potential of LSD.

The story was government pigs had dropped acid on an unsuspecting military enlisted man who, in a state of panicked delirium, had committed suicide by jumping out a window.

The first layer of government pig attack on me was then as it still is, psycho-fascism, raping my mind, and so it did not seem out of the question that it would give me the LSD treatment, so I dropped some acid in the form of a "purple micro dot" to gain some experience in case that ever happened.

Possible scenario, I am at a party and I am handed a drink spiked with acid. If I am experienced with the drug I hand my wife the car keys and tell her what had just taken place; and then I ride the trip for the next eight hours, because I would have no choice but to ride the trip, ending it exhausted and depressed.

Know thy enemy. Know thy country is fully capable of doping you with acid. That was what was going on then.

(Note how that same country is now doping you with lies and dropping you into that vat of acid called war, and the same country that deliberately made me homeless is deliberately making millions of Americans homeless. Same leopard, same spots, its agenda further advanced.)

In all, I doubt that I dropped acid or any of its cousins more than six times total. It was always a drug that took too much time, for my taste, since it pretty well knocked me out of commission for 24 hours, and I did not have the time for that.

I will tell you this, though, I never had a bad acid trip; perhaps because I have always had my mind together; bruised sometimes, yes, but together.

Returning to Sweet Muse's story of Tatoo and the founding of the Japanese race by God's Space Sailors, while Tatoo and her clan are being prepared to meet the extraterrestrials, Chawon, in the form one of his some 100 incarnations as a Black Africa, was about to climb Mount Kilimanjaro to draw to a close his current life by falling asleep in the snow, when he saw the round space ship set down at snow level on its first trip to get water for the clan.

Tatoo, Part 11

Black Tea tore up the side of Kilimanjaro faster than he had ever done in the over 70 incarnations in which he had done so, He climbed like a man possessed, which he was.

Today Kilimanjaro is an easy climb, thousands have done it in one day, even children do it, but then there were only the nearly non-existent trails Black Tea himself had made in those previous incarnations as a Black African in which he had concluded his life by "tasting the snow", as he called it in all those incarnations, and "falling asleep in the snow", where the frozen, sleeping forms of all his bodies from all those lives still lay perfectly preserved.

Black Tea was an African warrior who could, like most African warriors of the time, run 30 miles in a day never reaching exhaustion, and even with that stamina it took him three days and two nights to reach the place in the snow where he had seen the round thing land...and it had landed again as he climbed, and once again, three times in all; and he reached the place at sunset of the third day, and walked to it, leaving bloody footprints in the snow, the leather-like soles of his feet cut by volcanic rock, but he not noticing; and he waited for it to come again...and waited...and waited...the fingers of the cold touching him and grabbing him like a mob of demons...he waited all night...and all the next day...eating nought but snow, his black body, so black it was nearly purple, drawing in and storing all the heat of the sun it could...then night fell again like a hooded executioner and still...then!...far to the northwest a brilliant light appeared in the sky, lighted like 10,000 warriors' campfires, and stayed there, wiggling slightly as if a fish remaining still in a stream awaiting its supper to swim by...then it raised up, up into the sky, became small, and disappeared.

Black Tea wept like a pitiful child standing forlorn next to the fresh grave of its mother. He knew he as seen his past. He knew he had seen what he always knew he was.

Standing there on the field of snow, beside the little flow of water the round thing had set down near three times, the little stream beginning to freeze to a stop, as it did every night without the warmth of the sun to give it life and movement, Tea surveyed the snowy slope with his old eyes, the slope where so many of his bodies lay, the slope where he had brought this body to fall asleep upon, and he said allowed, "No, this cycle stops right here. I have seen it once and I shall see it again"; and Black Tea made his way down Kilimanjaro, never to climb it again, and began his long trek northward, finally falling asleep in death in the mountains of Greece, there to find a womb through which to be born again.

To be sure, it was the Great Vessel we Space Sailors call Peacemaker Black Tea had seen from so far away, as it waited on station at the edge of space for smaller vessels to transport Tatoo and her clan aboard, three at a time.

"I have seen it once and I shall see it again," Black Tea had said. That was in 700 BC; but he was not to see Peacemaker again until 1972, some five years after we Space Sailors had found him on a battlefield--where else, where else, where else--living his life as Tea, the incarnation in which he put it all together, in which he learned the secret of the riddle of Molly's doom, of Hell's doom, or, as she had come to called on our new charts, Earth's doom.

(To Be Continued)

Meanwhile, the United States of America, unaware that it was about to eat the fire, passed through the 121st day of its last year.

Tatoo, Part 10

The $627 Billion Defeat

Jews Jaws Four Down

Shark America Six Up

Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 247

Virgil's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923

Expect a Profound Act of God Against Israel & USA on June 7, 2008

Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2008

George W. Bush Will Destroy the World

Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event

Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: The Secret Story, Tatoo (10)

Today's code is "120th Day, Last Year".

A few quick comments on the world that is collapsing around you.

First, candidate Obama's maltreatment of his minister shows what a sniveling little politician Obama is. The Rev. Jeremiah Wright's oft-quoted-sound-bite-ed comments were right on the mark, and Obama should have the guts to say so. Obama is too cowardly to be President of the United States of America.

Second, under the American economic system, a dead American soldier is profit, and a wounded American soldier is loss.

Dig it, as you watch your secret dictator-master, the American economic system, squander American soldiers as if they were the funny money the Federal Reserve prints up faster than toilet paper people produce toilet paper.

Third, we had an excellent example of what this work calls a "Pregnant Code" yesterday. I refer to the phrase, "Stop right there!"

Perhaps the best expression of these words ever song or said in the English language were by Patti Russo in her duet with Meat Loaf, "Paradise by the Dashboard Light".

If you know the title of the album that song is featured in, and if you know her next two phrases, you know what event the pregnant code gives birth to.

Like a Bat out of Hell, Dear Reader, like a Bat out of Hell.

Looking at our Time Map, the seemingly impossible still seems possible, that being that I will have freed myself--or God will have freed me--from America's oppression, harassment and torture by mid-July.

That means if I choose to I will be able to backpack in the wilderness in August, un-harassed by government pigs and cowardly American citizen volunteers for the first time in many years.

If things go as scheduled I will turn 69 on August 13, and it is always nice to be deep in the wilderness on my birthday, so I can talk to my Old Pal God unencumbered by mean little American coughs.

We shall see what we shall see.

Preparing for that possibility, I have begun to gather my backpacking supplies; and I have extended my daily walks from one hour to two or three. When I go to the supermarket tomorrow I will take my backpack, and walk the three miles each way.

I am alive today because I discovered backpacking in my late 30s, and during my 40s developed what I call "Long Duration Backpacking", staying out for a month or more without resupply.

Distance hiked is not the critical factor in Long Duration Backpacking, though 100 to 150 miles is the norm for me. That sounds like a long way to walk, and it would be if one were backpacking for just one week, but with a hike lasting 30 days that breaks down to easy daily strolls.

The critical factor of Long Duration Backpacking is time spent surrounded by high mountain beauty--Beauty Heals.

Psycho-fascist America realized about ten years ago that my long hikes every summer were keeping me alive and healthy despite its constant torture of me; and were giving me ample opportunity to talk with God, I,Telepath to God,Telepath, and my chatting with God is a no-no in satanic America.

Late in the Blow Job President's Administration, there began systemized tracking and threatening of me in the wilderness.

With the onset of the Silly Fascist Faux-President's Administration the degree of harassment at home reached murderous levels, and backpacking became impossible.

So you see, Dear Reader, if it turns out to be possible for me to backpack in peace this coming July-August some huge event or events will have taken place before July 15.

Unless, of course, the psycho-fascist American leopard voluntarily changes is spots and no violent punishment of America by God is necessary.

So as I prepare for the possibility of this hike I begin to gather my supplies.

Long Duration Backpacking being one of my two great loves (Time Travel Warfare being the other) I thought I might describe my preparations for you as I go along. Who knows, you might find it valuable to spend a month in the wilderness, too, away from food riots and wanton mob murder; or just to chum around with God a little. It couldn't hurt.

First thing I have prepared for this hike is toilet paper, but in a special way you might consider trying.

I do not just throw rolls of toilet paper into my pack, that would be unsightly and would take up too much space.

Rather, I roll toilet paper into the shape of fat cigars and put three of these each into one one-quart plastic bags, and with them a book of matches, and seal the bags off with ties.

I now have about 30 such packets prepared. I likely will not take them all with me, but they will not spoil and I can use them on another hike.

In case there is some mishap and my pack ends up in a stream, most if not all of these packets will remain dry inside, preserving both the toilet paper and the all-important matches.

Being a considerate backpacker, I dig a shallow hole into which to defecate, and I burn my soiled toilet paper in that same hole. Then I fill the hole with dirt.

Poop disappears fast, but toilet paper not until the winter snows have melted; and it is common to come upon a overly used lake, its perimeter polka-dotted with little white clutters of toilet paper. Many backpackers are filthy, largely because of inexperience, and most backpackers damage the environment they pass through.

So, lesson One, dispose of your poop intelligently, and keep your matches dry.

Now let's return to the story Sweet Muse is telling us about Tatoo and her western Chinese clan and how God's Space Sailors saved them and deposited them on the islands now known as Japan, the extraterrestrials' version of the Japanese myth of their creation.

Yesterday we learned Chawon, who was Tea in our first three stories, is at the time of this rescue in northern Africa living one of his many lives as a Black African warrior, and Sweet Muse calls him Black Tea when telling stories of those Black African incarnations.

Black Tea's life is coming to a close, and he has made his traditional end-of-life trek to the tallest of the three peaks of Kilimanjaro, there to "taste the snow", a rare experience for an African, and then fall asleep in the snow.

We learn he has done this more than 70 times before, and all those bodies today remain frozen and preserved in the perpetual snow on the mountain top.

As Black Tea is making his current live's trek to the summit of Kilimanjaro he has observed the blinking lights in the constellation The Holy Wolf with which God's Space Sailors were playing The Teaching Game with Tatoo and her clan, gradually preparing them for contact, gradually out of worry sudden contact might drive them insane.

Black Tea is thrilled by these lights, and by the site of a flying circle setting down on the snow of Kilimanjaro and leaving after a short stay.

Black Tea does not know the flying circle was getting water for Tatoo and her clan; but he feels an urgent need to get to the place on the mountain top where it set down.

Tatoo, Part 10

Tatoo was quick to catch on, God had taught her The Teaching Game some five million years before, and she quickly realized what was taking place.

When we Space Sailors delivered the snow water from Kilimanjaro and told Tatoo and her clan telepathically to carry the water in other containers and leave the Chinese jars behind, she understood, she knew that on the next morning at the next camp the same three large Chinese jars would be there for them, filled with more of that water, that cold, delicious water that tasted like wine to them.

She told her clan what was happening, that they were being helped, almost certainly by the Purple Fish Goddess the Dogon People spoke of and whose fame had traveled all the way to Babylon.

This clan had followed this teenage woman on the strength of her dreams and convictions further--far, far further--than any Chinese had ever ventured by land. They believed in Tatoo, and while Tatoo had fretted over her error of having led them into this trackless wilderness, this Impossible Pocket, they had not experienced the same crisis of faith.

On their own, Tatoo's followers had been learning from The Teaching Game; and with the appearance of the delicious water they knew something great was taking place; so even as Tatoo told them they would find the same jars filled with fresh water the next day, that was utterly logical to them all, and they walked on with greater energy and higher hopes than they had ever known in their lives.

Surely the Purple Fish Goddess was a great goddess; truly something wonderful was in store for them. As we Space Sailors say, they were in Passage Passing, going from one state of awareness to another.

(To Be Continued)

Meanwhile, the United States of America, unaware that it was about to eat the fire, passed through the 120th day of its last year.

Tatoo, Part 9

The $626 Billion Defeat

Jews Jaws Five Down

Shark America Five Up

Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 244 (We Seem Out of the Big Quake Danger Zone)

Virgil's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923

Expect a Profound Act of God Against Israel & USA on June 7, 2008

Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2008

George W. Bush Will Destroy the World

Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event

Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: The Secret Story, Tatoo (9)

Today's code is "119th Day, Last Year".

We are waiting today for some news to break. Today's code is, "Stop Right There!" So we stop, watch, and wait.

Now let's return to our story of Tatoo.

When we left of the Space Sailors were bringing Tatoo and her clan water from Mount Kilimanjaro in three large ceramic jars they had retrieved from a wrecked Chinese merchant ship; and were approaching risking revealing their space ship, thinking now the danger of such a sight causing the clan to go mad was past.

Tatoo, Part 9

At the time of our slow, delicate rescue of Tatoo and her clan from the desert of northern Africa, Chawon was living one of his many lives as a Black African, though we did not know it at the time, and while he had many different names in his estimated 100 incarnations as a Black African we always refer to him as Black Tea when we tell stories of those lives.

Black Tea had by then been marooned on Hell for some 44 thousand years, but had never forgotten his situation and his purpose, though this knowledge was dim and deeply buried, and would come and go, rise and sink in his understanding.

Being born a human being so many times, he had polished the art of being a human being and leaned not to grow old until he died, and not to die except in battle, and in battle not to die at all.

With this philosophy. Black Tea developed what he called his "Dying Place", the last act of many of his Black African lives being to climb to the snow level of Kilimanjaro and taste snow, and live out his final hours there, finally to fall asleep in the snow; and then gather up his soul and go searching for another womb to deliver him back into the flesh.

Though not known, it was Black Tea who named Kilimanjaro, which in Space Sailor language means literally to kill a man and put him in a jar, but Black Tea used the snow on Kilimanjaro as the jar, to freeze his own body and preserve it until some time in the future when the snows of Kilimanjaro might melt.

It is said at least 75 bodies of Black Tea, with spear and shield, lie under the snow at the peak.

Before he had lived his first life as a human being some ten thousand years prior to our story of Tatoo and the western Chinese who were to become the first Japanese, Chawon had lived the life of every animal at least once, and every plant and tree.

He had, you may recall, marooned himself to see if he could stop the wobble of Hell that would eventually destroy her and all life on her--including his own if he could not solve the problem, or if he were not rescued in time.

He'd lived all those lives to better know the beautiful planet he called Molly, as she was named on the old charts, and which we came to call Hell, as she was named on the new charts, so he might put his ears and paws and hooves to her breast and attempt to discern her stage of dying--and the cause of her death,

After all those tens of thousands of years of study, Chawon-Black Tea still did not know the cause of Molly's impending death.

Chawon had come to love Molly as if she were his home planet, but she was not, and both he and she never forgot that; and she would say to him, Save Yourself, Save Yourself; and he would say to her, What would life be were I to do that?

Yes, Molly knew Chawon was with her; because as we Space Sailors have known for millions of years, planets like Molly are living and thinking beings; and Molly followed Chawon's passages through lives and deaths with great loving interest, like an elephant following the steps of a bird walking on its back.

When Chawon had lived his first human life as an Australian Black, and then his second, and then his third, he would frequently have dreams of his lives as animals, and knew he had particularly loved being the African gazelle, and the African elephant, and the African lion; so he began to think in terms of living in Africa as a human being; and he put much thought into how he might transport his soul to Africa across the vast waters (which he knew were there because he had so often seen Molly from Space) but no solution came, and he lived another lovely life as a Black Australian, then another, then another...when one day he was humming a song to himself, not with his vocal cords at all, but with his mind, and a bird nearby joined him in song, and he soon came to understand the bird could understand every word he thought; so he became friends with the bird and the bird with him; and he asked the bird one day if the bird could fly over the waters as far as Africa, and the bird said, yes, it did it all the time (boasting a little, perhaps); and Chawon asked the bird to stay near him until he died, then wait for three days, and then fly to Africa.

Soon thereafter Chawon died, finishing his last life of a Black Australian, and after passing two days saying goodbye to the thousands of Black Australian spirits he had come to know, he, now in spirit form, buried himself in the breast feathers of the bird; and the bird, feeling him there, flew to Africa; where, as already mentioned, it is estimated Chawon lived 100 lives as Black Tea.

Black Tea came to love those lives as a Black African for their strength and their beauty and their orderly tribal traditions of honor, fidelity and courage.

Black Tea was always Chawon, always an extraterrestrial, and even though he could never truly be a human being and never fit perfectly into human society he found that in his lives as Black Tea the Black Africans always accepted him, and honored his differences. His eccentricities were to them his magic.

While Chawon lived many lives in Africa as Black Tea, he tended to live the same kind of life over and over again.

That life was being born into a warrior-hunter tribe, and passing through childhood, and initiation into manhood, and warrior-hood, marriage, and fatherhood; and almost always sometime late in his life, before he became too weakened by age to do so, he would go on a long, solo trek to his Dying Place, with just spear and shield and blanket, and always he would walk to Kilimanjaro, the snows atop it, you may recall, being his Dying Place, and climb the tallest peak of the three to taste the topmost snow, and to look off into the direction of the Ear; which he had never seen as Black Tea, but where he knew somewhere deep inside him a ship that belonged to him was buried in the sand.

Black Tea was so happy with his lives as a Black African that he might have happily stayed in that cycle of life and death forever, except he always knew there was no forever, and there were other things he needed to do than live happy warrior lives married to lovely warrior's wives and fathering beautiful warrior's children.

Black Tea had ended so many lives high on the snows of Kilimanjaro, that he had unintentionally created a tribal folk legend about himself, a legend that every 50 years or so an old warrior would pass through on his way to die on the Great Mountain, and there was common speculation that the old warrior was the same man-soul in different bodies.

(There is a peculiar side story to the story of Chawon's long marooning on Hell, which says that although he lived as least one thousand lives as a human being he never lived the life of a woman. When asked about this after the Great Episode, as the story of the attempt to save Hell came to be called, he told us that women were his only pleasure on Hell, and he had wanted to preserve the mystery of them by not becoming one of them.)

So, as Divine Coincidence orchestrated it, Black Tea was making his current live's trek to Kilimanjaro, and as he slept on the ground one night some two days trek from the hem of Kilimanjaro's skirt, listening to the roar of the lions nearly causing the ground to tremble, he was looking up at The Holy Wolf, and he saw (and he was certain he saw) a light in its right eye blink three times.

Black Tea had watched the night sky, and in particular The Holy Wolf thousands of times but he had never seen a light blink in its right eye before.

All day the next day as he made his way across the vast scrub grasslands toward the southwest of side of Kilimanjaro he thought of those lights and in his heart a mysterious word appeared, "Rescue". What could that word mean; and why did it cause him such joy?

The next night he watched again, refusing to sleep in case the light appeared, and just as The Holy Wolf was beginning to slip into the northwest horizon, the light blinked three times again...and a little later it blinked a forth time; but this time the light was in The Holy Wolf's left eye.

Black Tea was a mighty old warrior, feared in battle and famous as a lion-killer in one-on-one combat, but now his old body shivered with excitement; and memories were stirred in him that would have seemed demon-possessed had they not seemed so matter-of-fact normal, of he being of a different race and dancing with a woman quite formally, not at all like Black African dancing, in a great room with others of the same race dancing, the men in uniform, the women in long, flowing dresses, and as he danced around and around the room with the woman, all the dancers likewise making big, dancing circle--the woman clearly loved him, he could tell by her eyes--they danced past a great window that looked out on...that looked out on Space.

As if in sudden Enlightenment, Black Tea remembered being a Space Sailor; and recalled the woman was Tatoo, his love of millions of years, his perfect love, introduced to him by God.

It was a day later, just before dark, he still a least a day from beginning his climb to the snow of his Dying Place, when the rosy sunset was bathing the western slopes of Kilimanjaro in pink, that he saw something, a round thing flying, and watched it set down gently on the snow near the top of the mountain, and after a little while watched it fly off again.

Black Tea quickened his pace, knowing he must climb the mountain and go to that place.

(To Be Continued)

Meanwhile, the United States of America, unaware that it was about to eat the fire, passed through the 119th day of its last year.

Tatoo, Part 8

The $625 Billion Defeat

Jews Jaws Six Down

Shark America Four Up

Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 235 (Rate Increasing Slowly. A 5.8 in Mexico, 3.8 in Central California.)

Virgil's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923

Expect a Profound Act of God Against Israel & USA on June 7, 2008

Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2008

George W. Bush Will Destroy the World

Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event

Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: The Secret Story, Tatoo (8)

Today's code is "118th Day, Last Year".

Movement is strong.

When the Battle of Smallville began about a year ago the solid, underlying code was "Two Birds, One Stone".

Now it seems certain the two birds are the USA and Israel; and the great question here at I.C. News is, what stone God will throw?

We have a new code on that today, "Tales of Two Cities", It does not seem likely it will relate to Charles Dickens' "A Tale of Two Cities", but we will have to see how the code plays out. In Dickens' book the two cities were London and Paris; the guess here at I.C. News is this code refers to Jerusalem and Washington Deceit.

This seems a good day to take stock; to look around; to see how the great battle of Armageddon is going, particularly God's attack on the United States of America and Israel.

They are so much alike, those two, praising themselves to High Heaven and passing out pain, misery and death as if God has given them license to be satanic.

The Great Poker Dealer in the Sky has just dealt me two Aces, one face up and the other face down.

The Ace up is a Diamond Ace, my exquisite advance documentation of Israel's premeditated murder of Reuters' Palestinian cameraman Fadel Shana.

Consider that accomplishment, if your masters in Washington Deceit allow you to consider my work; and consider my potential for forecasting other future events if I can forecast such an event so fully.

Had you Americans not been having so much fun sodomizing my life, for example, the 9/11 attack would not have taken place; and all the losses you Americans have taken would not have taken place; and you would not have become as Satan world-wide.

(And space-wide, on unknown planets orbiting unseen stars,)

Hell patiently awaits you all.

You have lost your Earth; it will explode before today's babies are old; and your immortal souls will be drifting in endless frigid-boiling space among the frozen clods and frozen seas that once were Earth; and there is not one God's Space Sailor in the Gala Sea who will give a damn.

And God? And God? God was the first to know what you are.

To God's Space Sailors, Dear Reader, there are no good Americans.

The Ace down in this Great Poker Game was one of God's great white sharks biting the legs off one of Satan's own Americans. itself a continuation of the old and powerful Two Birds, One Stone code.

This is a hole card, don't ask me to tell you what it is.

(That would spoil the surprise,)

The feeling of this old and experienced veteran of God's Space War is that somehow God is going to take out the Americans and the Israelis in a quick and sudden attack along the lines of the shark taking off the man's legs.

In our tracking of the Earth-exploding earthquake pattern, the major quake of 7.0 or above I.C. News has been expecting has not yet taken place, although this Earth is tense in the waiting for it; and even American scientists are warning of a major quake in Nevada. There was a 5.6 in Mexico today, that's getting close to 7.0.

Such a warning from seismic community is very rare; and it is interesting that we and they have a meshing of our intelligence on this expected quake, as we had with other intelligence services just before 9/11.

I.C. News' theory on an emerging new "Crack in the Egg" between Australia and South America was further strengthened by a 4.6 approximately half way between the two. Indeed, a crack at that general latitude seems to be forming all around the world.

I remain America's torture-slave, my status for some 35 years, a status which has cost America untold thousands of lives and untold billions of dollars, and ultimately will lead to the doom of the United States of America.

So evil the act. So typically evil the act. So American, the evil act.

The California-based attack on me encoded earlier as "Jibun No Uchi Kara Kuru" is still poised; but these are cowards on the attack and they want to be sure their pet bully, the State of California, will join in; so I will not yet translate the code for you.

I am old now, half my lifetime stolen as America's torture-slave, but I walk at least four miles almost every day, and the vast majority of the Americans in this small community in the foothills of the Sierras seem more prone to save their souls through kindness and hospitality than to lose them through America's socialized psycho-sodomy of me.

As is generally the case these past ten years or so, teenage boys seem to be more prone to torture than adults; unfortunate for them because they are damned as adults. Perhaps all the good boys have been aborted.

The death of this Earth is still projected for about December 26, 2065, a projection which has held constant now for thousands of years, a projection that was made when the first Cain murdered the first Able.

One purpose of my advance documentation of Israel's murder of Palestinian newsman Fadel Shana is to demonstrate that if I.C. News can anticipate Israeli treachery to such a fine degree, I.C. News can project Israel's murder of all Human Hope just as finely.

America and Israel, two sons of Satan out on a murder spree.

Now let's take a look and see how Muse continues her story today,

As the Story of Tatoo left off yesterday, God's Space Sailors were playing The Teaching Game with Tatoo and her clan from far western China and now lost in the desert of northern Africa; first taught with lights in the sky and sub-audible telepathy--the need be to awaken them to the reality of God's Space Sailors without that awakening driving them totally insane has been the cautioning factor.

The latest plateau in The Learning Game had been reached with God's Space Sailors bringing to them water from Kilimanjaro in three large Chinese ceramic jars salvaged from a Chinese merchant ship wrecked on the east coast of Africa.

So, there Tatoo and her clan stood looking at the jars when they found them just outside their camp in the morning, stunned; then beginning to understand (all of them individually and separately) that something holy might just have taken place.

This was good, because it was the concept of holiness we wanted to introduce to their intellects.

Once we had their attention we could begin speaking to them in pure telepahy, uncluttered by words. We didn't have to tell them we were friendly, they knew.

The problem now became how to take them aboard out Great Ship, Peacemaker, in orbit on the other side of the sun, and what to do with them when we did; for we could not abandon them and they could not crew with us--with the exception of Tatoo, she was one of us, but we were yet but snowflakes in her melted memory.

After they had drunk their fill of the delicious and cold snow water we had brought them from the high streams of Kilimanjaro; and they having not yet seen any manifestation of us except the appearance of the Chinese water jars, we spoke to them in pure telepathy saying, "Save the water in your containers and leave the jars behind,"

They did that. They knowingly followed an instruction made through wordless telepathy. This told us they would soon be ready to be taken aboard; but there were many more miles for them yet to walk as we taught them through The Teaching Game.

No, they could never had walked to the place you call Timbuktu and we Space Sailors call Time Back Two, unless we wanted to baby-sit them all the way, and what good would it do to do that, they would be Chinese babies when they arrived at the biggest city in the middle of nowhere, helpless and peculiar.

No, we were about to take them aboard the greatest Gala Sea Vessel ever built, Peacemaker, with a crew of thousands and able to stay at sea indefinitely.

Understand, were we not careful they could be struck into dribbling awe upon first sight of Peacemaker, built as if of glass and wriggling through space like a swimming minnow of mystery.

Peacemaker was temporarily being called "Heaven's Terrace" in honor of this event, and that is the name those western Chinese were taught, and perhaps their first lesson in Space Sailor speech; and their first lesson in Japanese.

(For those Japanese Readers who are interested in Time Travel from about 700 BC to about now, Heaven's Terrace, strictly speaking, was Amaterasu, the Japanese name for the Sun Goddess, the Ama being Heaven in Space Sailor lingo as well as in Japanese, and "Terrace" being a Time Projection of an English language word that would enter the Japanese language some 3,000 years later.)

How to get these western Chinese aboard Peacemaker, big as a large city, and visible as naught but blinking lights in the night sky, then only if it wanted to be visible, without them being stunned by the scope of the vessel. That was the great problem we faced.

We thought about this, and we directed The Teaching Game to teaching them something of our language and our ways before the first appearance of Amaterasu.

(To Be Continued)

Meanwhile, the United States of America, unaware that it was about to eat the fire, passed through the 118th day of its last year.

Tatoo, Part 7

The $624 Billion Defeat

Jews Jaws Seven Down

Shark America Three Up

Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 220 (Sudden Drop Stops. Eerie Quiet. A 4.1 Warning Quake in Southern California. East-of Australia New Crack in the Egg Expands. This Big One is Like Pulling Teeth.)

Virgil's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923

Expect a Profound Act of God Against Israel & USA on June 7, 2008

Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2008

George W. Bush Will Destroy the World

Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event

Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: The Secret Story, Tatoo (7)

Today's code is "117th Day, Last Year".

This, in a nutshell, demonstrates the psychosis of Israel: The Israeli Ambassador to the United Nations Thursday called former President of the United States of America and Nobel Peace Prize winner Jimmy Carter a "bigot".

Anyone anywhere who in any way criticizes Israel must be a bigot, even this truly fine man who has been almost the sole voice of reason and Christian charity in the upper echelons United States of America for so many years.

The dragon cannot smell its own dragon breath; Israel can't see its own blemished face in a mirror. No matter what evil a Jew might do, the person who calls attention to it is an anti-Semite. Nice racket.

It is dangerous for the United States of America to be under tow, and under the spell, of such a psychotic nation as Israel.

Now, that said, I must tell you about a most wonderful sign my Old Pal God has just shown me; not wonderful for psycho-fascist America and psychotic Israel because it is a bleeding metaphor of what God is about to do to them, but wonderful for me.

It relates directly to the reoccurring headlines above, "Expect a Profound Act of God Against Israel & USA on June 7, 2008"; "Jews Jaws", and "Shark America".

Soon you will see why I.C. News has been running those headlines for so long, what future events they document in advance.

Back to the Great Sign I have just received; my inclination was to let this Great Sign pass without reporting it today, because I did not record the advance code, as I had been asked to, and without the advance documentation I have no proof at all that this harsh miracle took place.

Tough titty.


But, Dear Reader, and this is the big butt that is going to poop all over the USA and Israel, sometimes I like to leave some cards face down on this poker table; sometimes I like to add to psycho-fascist America's ignorance of what I am in addition to being America's telepathic torture-slave.

Keeping this card face down, withholding my advance documentation of this miracle by God, is an example of the slave spitting into the slave-keeper's soup.

So, with the understanding that I am not expecting you to believe me, and with the statement that I think this event will be very important to you in the future, I will tell you about the great and bloody miracle God has just performed.

On Friday, just north of San Diego, California, a suspected great white shark took both legs off a swimmer, who died soon after. I was given the man's surname in advance.

His name is what I held back from psycho-fascist America; his name was on the face-down card.

The victim was Dave Martin, 66, a retired veterinarian who was swimming with members of a triathlon club.

Yes, Dear Reader, I am saying God guided the shark to the person God had named in advance. God, you know, is in charge of every fish in the sea and every person who swims in it. This refers back to my previous report mentioning the great size of God relative to this Earth--basketball player compared to basketball.

This event is pregnant with meaning relative to how God is about to dismantle what this work calls The Tornado of War, the perpetual warfare dynamic among Judaism, Christianity and Islam.

Apparently Islam is not going to be touched when this takes place, which in itself will be miraculous, considering how the Americans and the Israelis are so inserted into Islam in the geographical location where God will bite off the legs of the Jewish-Christian warmongering alliance.

Now back to our story of Tatoo, and how God's Space Sailors set the ancestors of the Japanese race down on the Island of Honshu, at the place called Bridge to Heaven, in about 660 BC.

Apparently what our Sweet Muse was waiting for has taken place because she picks up her story today after three days of refusing to tell it.

Tatoo, Part 7

We Space Sailors continued to lead Tatoo and her clan westward with lights blinking in the night sky, and with low level telepathy, moving them from oasis to oasis, moving them ever closer to where Proso, Chawon's sister, had appeared before the Dogon People and entered into legend as the Purple Fish Goddess, and near where Chawon has buried his ship in the sand some 44 thousand years before; until Tatoo and her clan had reached a point of such impenetrable, devastating wilderness that something was needed in addition to blinking lights and telepathy.

We needed to give them water.

This was not easily done, since we had no water on board and nothing in which to contain water.

So we thought about this...what to do...how to do it...for though while Tatoo and her clan had begun to understand they were in some mysterious way being helped, too much too soon might still drive them mad.

We came up with this solution.

Even in those early centuries, the Chinese had a large merchant sailing fleet, and while Tatoo and her clan were from far western China and of a vastly different culture than the seafaring Chinese along the coast, Chinese are Chinese wherever they are, and we decided to utilize that kinship.

We had observed Chinese merchant vessels for perhaps a century trading with peoples in Southeast Asia, and over to India, and even as far away from China as the east coast of Africa; and we knew the locations of some Chinese shipwrecks.

During their seafaring days the Chinese used large jars for the storage of such necessities as water, pickles and wine. and these jars were quite beautiful, but more important for our needs they were clearly Chinese, with writing on them in Chinese which Tatoo and her clan would recognize as such, even though Tatoo and her clan were illiterate.

We went to a wreck we could access and from it we removed three large jaws about as tall as a child of six. We could have removed more, but we had been talking to the western Chinese lost in the northern Africa desert in threes--three blinks, three trees--as we played The Teaching Game with them, and we wanted to continue that pattern, and we wanted to teach them a Space Sailor word, "Himitsu", "Secret", the "mitsu" part of which means "three" in our language.

This is from an old Space Sailor story called "The Secret of the Three Suns", or, "Mitsu No Hi Sama No Himitsu".

(Japanese readers of Virgil's work will at this point perhaps understand what this story is leading to, but for now let's leave it unsaid.)

We then took the jars to a place of good, especially delicious, flowing water in eastern Africa, flowing from the tallest of the three peaks now known collectively as Kilimanjaro, water from a snow pack thousands of years old, and filled the jars; and as Tatoo and her clan slept, we set our ship down and left the water near their camp so it would be found in the morning.

This was risky. This alone might have driven them mad, but they accepted the water-gift gratefully, and after they tasted it, after the near-brine they had been drinking--when they could find it--the gift-water tasted like wine to them.

Now The Learning Game had reached a new plateau, and it would soon be time to show Tatoo and her clan our ship in the daylight sky.

(To Be Continued)

Meanwhile, the United States of America, unaware that it was about to eat the fire, passed through the 117th day of its last year.

Tatoo, Part 7 (Stopped 3)

The $623 Billion Defeat

Jews Jaws Eight Down

Shark America Two Up

Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 212 (Sudden Drop Slows. Small Warning Quake in Frisco.)

Virgil's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923

Expect a Profound Act of God Against Israel & USA on June 7, 2008

Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2008

George W. Bush Will Destroy the World

Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event

Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: The Secret Story, Tatoo (7) Stopped 3

Today's code is "116th Day, Last Year".

There has been a most interesting code running during the past few weeks.

While there are variations to the code, it seems good to call it "Poles", the reference being the North and South Poles.

This code was first established some 35 years ago, just after God gave me the gift of audible mental telepathy; and the American government and people locked me into the torture-enslavement system which still goes on today.

As you may know, Dear Reader, the telepathy between God's Space Sailors more often consists of images than words,

There are a number of images that go with this code's current use, but the oldest and most predominant is a metaphorical image of God; which should not be misconstrued to be I. C. News' representation of an actual or presumed actual image of God.

To see this metaphorical image of God envision a very tall basketball player standing on a court with a basketball on the floor between his or her feet.

Now see that basketball as this Earth and God as that basketball player.

The image in this very old code is God having one ankle on the North Pole and the other ankle on the South Pole.

There is a great deal of meaning in this metaphorical image, but for now just consider three things:

One, the relative size of player compared to the ball.

Two, anticipate the ball being dribbled a lot.

Three, appreciate that the ice caps on the North and South Poles--where God's ankles have metaphorically been for some 35 years--are now melting.

It is unfortunate for the United States of America that I have no proof of the timing of the establishment of this code in about 1972. Any systemized record-keeping has been impossible due to America's torture-enslavement of me.

That is, in stealing my life America stole this very important information from itself; and now will suffer for the absence of that information.

That I am receiving consistent and remarkable updates to this code indicates this code is important in God's coming destruction of the United States of America and all the nations that add to the misery of life on this Earth and contribute to the death of this Earth.

As you may by now understand, Dear Reader, a very important part of this work concerns Time Travel, and the field of battle in God's Space War includes Time Travel.

Perhaps the best demonstration of Time Travel I have presented for some time was I.C. News' advance documentation of Israel's premeditated murder of Reuters' Palestinian cameraman Fadel Shana. (See Tatoo, 4 Stopped, April 17.)

Relative to the reality of Time Travel, God's Space Sailors "currently" have a favorite song, which in part, goes:

"How many Americans did you kill today? Quite a few and there's more on the way."

I put "currently" in quotation marks because while this song is popular among God's Space Sailors at this time, God's Space Sailors are in the Future; and they are killing massive numbers of Americans in the Future.

Time Travel Tip; never torture an audible mental telepath whose support system has that capability. Even yesterday is not safe; and tomorrow is hopeless.

In addition to America's torture and enslavement of God's One True Telepath, which alone would be enough to fry America, review what God's Space War is about.

We are talking about the death of this Earth before the sun rises on 2065; we are talking about the bloody, painful, burning extinction if the human race by 2045; we are talking about the knowledge of that coming extinction sweeping the world by 2020.

(Come, let us talk as we walk down this old man's beach, of laughter and of tears, of childhood fears, things now out of reach. Let us talk of snow and ice upon the deck, let us talk of foreign creatures swimming around the wreck.)

There will be a time when the knowledge of extinction sinks in before the chaos and madness of extinction begins; when there will still be electricity, when all the pundits who did not see it coming will explain how obvious it was that it was coming; then the TV screens will go blank forevermore; and Americans will murder each other in a gluttony of American murder.

(How many Americans did you kill today? Quiet a few and there's more on the way.)

At that time it will be clear to every village idiot sitting under every chestnut tree amusing himself by abusing himself that the presidential campaign of 2007 was one of stupid concepts mouthed by two stupid men and one stupid
woman for the votes of the stupid, stupid American people.

The world was burning while they fiddled, and they did not smell the smoke. and they did not feel the heat, and they did not see the flames. There was not one leader among them.

America, end your torture-enslavement of God's One True Telepath, and let the man speak.

(An interesting historical footnote: when the extinction of the human race is reported throughout the Universe, it will be known that God's Space Sailors killed one American for every cowards' cough and every other cruel action inflicted on God's One True Telepath during the course of his torture-enslavement.)

The great irony of it will be that the Americans wrote the rules of God's Space War. Do Unto Others.

Returning to the subject of our currently running story, Tatoo, in which Sweet Muse, an extraterrestrial, proves the Japanese myth of their being placed on the Japanese islands by Amaterasu, the Sun Goddess, is metaphorically correct. It was God's Space Sailors who placed them there.

As of today, Sweet Muse continues to refuse to go on with her telling of the story. Apparently she is waiting for something to happen.

Tatoo, Part 7 (Stopped 3)

(To Be Continued)

Meanwhile, the United States of America, unaware that it was about to eat the fire, passed through the 116th day of its last year

Tatoo, Part 7 (Stopped 2)

The $622 Billion Defeat

Jews Jaws Nine Down

Shark America One Up

Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 221-235 (Sudden Drop Seems to Stop)

Virgil's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923

Expect a Profound Act of God Against Israel & USA on June 7, 2008

Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2008

George W. Bush Will Destroy the World

Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event

Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: The Secret Story, Tatoo (7) Stopped 2

Today's code is "115th Day, Last Year".

It is very interesting to me that none of the media-covered candidates for the Presidency of the United States of America are talking of the looming food famine now well on its way to overtaking the human race.

All three of the candidates covered by the media are running neck and neck on the track the Republican American Fascists put them on; and though it is a close race and an interesting dog and pony show they are running on the wrong track.

The issue is not how to and how much to bomb Iran--that friendly nation that would be a help to the world if George W. Bush didn't need artificially created enemies to sic the American people and media on--the issue is how do we save the human species from extinction.

The Republican American Fascist plan is to kill off as many impoverished people as possible, and save the planet for the rich.

Neither Obama nor Clinton nor McCain dare to nor want to approach that subject; but unless that subject is approached the human being, including the richest of the rich, will be extinct by 2045.

(The richest of the rich know the poor and the middle and the pretty rich will become extinct; and they are doing all they can to help that extinction along; but they do not know they will go, too. Rather, they think they shall inherit this Earth and live in the Paradise of the Rich; with no pesky poor people to bother them.)

As my friend and teacher, Jesus, suggested, now I turn my back on Satan as manifested in American politics and look to the great neutral disaster, the death of this Earth on or about December 26, 2064,; and to the earthquake pattern that delivers that death.

After having built up to about 350, the seven-day earthquake count has just fallen rapidly to 221 or lower in about 48 hours, and risen back up to 235 at deadline time.

In I.C. News' two-year earthquake observation, this is unprecedented. Never has the frequency reached that high, and never has it fallen so far so rapidly.

We watch this like a sailor watches a falling barometer, and as to the sailor the falling barometer indicates violent storm approaching, to I.C. News the falling seven-day earthquake count indicates a violent earthquake on the way.

We saw an interesting 5.5 in the area east of Australia where we have been watching what seems to be serious earthquake activity; and a 5.6 in the Mid-Atlantic Ridge area west of Africa, where we do not recall having seen a quake in the course of this journalistic, unscientific study.

However, we are looking for a 7-plus quake or larger; so we continue to watch and wait, wondering if our theory that rapid drops in numbers of quakes lead to major quakes will play out again, as it has repeatedly played out over the two years we have been following earthquake patterns.

Returning to our story of Tatoo and how she and her clan of western Chinese are rescued from certain death in the northern African desert by God's Space Sailor's:

The clan, we know, will eventually be deposited at the Bridge to Heaven on the island of Honshu, Japan, to become the foundation of the Japanese race. That is the promise of the story.

However, my Sweet Muse has again stopped telling this story. The last time she stopped, during Part 4, that stop was part of I.C. News' remarkable, beautiful, intricate and detailed advance documentation if Israel's premeditated murder of Fadel Shana, Reuter's well known and respected Palestinian cameraman.

That America continues its torture-enslavement of me after such a remarkable advance documentation seems to contribute to Sweet Muse's explosive fury at the USA.

Also, Muse wants me to write this story in Japan for the Japanese, since it is their story and proof of the metaphorical accuracy of their myth of their creation.

Just guessing, likely she is going to save me from the heartless North Americans just as the first Japanese were saved from the heartless desert of northern Africa.

So, she seems intent on doing some harsh things to the United States of America; or presenting a remarkable demonstration of extraterrestrial visitation.

In the mean time I will continue to listen for her telling me Part 7 of Tatoo, and pass it on to you if she tells me.

Tatoo, Part 7 (Stopped 2)

(To Be Continued)

Meanwhile, the United States of America, unaware that it was about to eat the fire, passed through the 115th day of its last year

Tatoo, Part 7 (Stopped)

The $621 Billion Defeat

Jews Jaws Ten Up

Shark America Zero Down

Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 264 (Sudden Drop, Indicates 7-Plus Quake Coming. This is urgent news.)

Virgil's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923

Expect a Profound Act of God Against Israel & USA on June 7, 2008

Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2008

George W. Bush Will Destroy the World

Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event

Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: The Secret Story, Tatoo (7) Stopped

Today's code is "114th Day, Last Year".

Still flabbergasted by the stupidity of Hilary Clinton's "obliterate" Iran threat, I remind myself I cannot stop America's juggernaut toward Suicide and Damnation America's religion of itself has put into motion.

Turning away from the festering theater of world-destroying American politics, I note the seven-day earthquake pattern, suddenly dropping from around 350 to 264 at today's early deadline; and remind you that such sudden drops in the past have been preludes to major quakes of 7.0 or above.

There is little doubt here at I.C. News that a major earthquake is about to take place. Where it will take place is the focus of our attention. While we have accurately documented many quakes in advance, we have never yet documented a quake's location in advance, and that is a hopeful possibility with this coming mega-event.

This development in the earthquake pattern is the reason for today's early deadline.

As with the swirling madness of American politics, I can only watch and note the earthquake progression; knowing the first leads inevitably nuclear war and God's destruction of the USA this year, and the other leads to the death of this Earth in late December, 2064.

I now understand the "spill" or "tipping point" code of three days ago. It was Mrs. Clinton's then-approaching stupid "obliterate" remark, guaranteeing the progression of American and Israeli aggressive war-making deep into the future; and giving the initiation of nuclear war far greater license than it had before that wicked word, "obliterate", came out of her mealy mouth.

The feeling here at I.C. News--perhaps better said, the understanding--is that God damned Hillary Clinton for her public threat to murder millions of Iranians; which she made as a move to further cozy up to the fascist coup now deeply entrenched in America.

Courage to do the human-species-saving right thing is what is needed now, not her bombastic jumping onto the Republican American Fascist nuclear-bombing-intention bandwagon.

I cannot overstate seriousness of the error Hillary Clinton made; you, Dear Reader, likely cannot fathom what a despicable sin she committed. Words come to life.

Tatoo, Part 7 (Stopped)

(To Be Continued)

Meanwhile, the United States of America, unaware that it was about to eat the fire, passed through the 114th day of its last year.

Tatoo, Part 6

The $620 Billion Defeat

Jews Jaws Nine Up

Shark America One Down

Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 358

Virgil's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923

Expect a Profound Act of God Against Israel & USA on June 7, 2008

Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2008

George W. Bush Will Destroy the World

Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event

Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: The Secret Story, Tatoo (6)
Today's code is "113th Day, Last Year".

My Old Pal God advises me the Americans are about to cheat me--or to attempt to cheat me.

This is interesting in that the Americans have cheated me out of every second of every day for over 35 years, and all that I had and all that I would have had, What else would there be for the Americans to cheat me out of?

I know I cut the psycho-fascist Americans deep with my advance documentation of Israel's premeditated murder of Reuters' Palestinian cameraman Fadel Shana, and it is possible that might bring about a change in the American torture-enslavement game.

(But, and this is the big butt that stinks to High Heaven, the American media, and even Reuters, the British news service which suffered the wanton murder of its popular and well known staffer, are leaving the story of that murder to die on the vine.

(Too cowardly the western media, to face up to the true nature of Israel.)

Dear Reader, it was too clearly murder not to have unleashed the hounds of news. Were there freedom of press in this world that story would be all over the headlines.

Israel's lying in wait to murder that Palestinian journalist is the top story in the world today, even ahead of the growing world-wide food famine which is about to drive the world insane.

(I suggested some weeks ago, Dear Reader, that you quietly stock up food, now the prices are higher and the pinch is about to be felt even in fat America. I wouldn't tell you these things if I didn't love you, and want to see you survive the world-destroying folly of George W. Bush.

(As this food crisis grows worse, and as the war crisis grows worse, bear in mind that both were planned by Republican American Fascism and its kindred forms of fascism around the world, as a step in the killing off at least 75 percent of the human race.

(These are not Boy Scouts you are playing with.)

Note also that the blow job president's wife is warning Iran the US would "obliterate" it if it attacked America's cutie pie, honey bunny Israel if she were President; so now we have both political parties playing the bomb bomb bomb Iran game.

And Iran is innocent.

This is like a satanic version of the old Broadway hit musical, Annie Get Your Gun, former First Lady Blow Job Clinton as Annie Oakley singing, "Anyplace you can bomb I can bomb better, I can bomb anyplace better than you,"

This is a very dangerous and stupid thing for her to do, and stupidity like this is what causes the USA to be Israel's drone ally.

Israel has a genius at provoking Arab response and making itself look totally innocent, and talk like Clinton's bitch-wife's gives Israel a free hand in tricking the USA do its Muslim-killing for it.

The greater tragedy of Mrs. Clinton's fear-mongering posturing is that it allows Israel to initiate nuclear hostilities knowing full well it has the aggressive backing of its nuclear drone ally, the USA, no matter which ruling political party is in power in the USA.

Now back to today's theme, America's little plot to cheat me even more than it already has cheated me.

When the Americans and the Jews are working together you can bet there is some cheating going on, Both think cheating is fair.

It is possible that although America intends to torture me until I am in my grave, and then vilify me more and more thereafter in constructing a warped historical record of me, the psycho-fascists may be beginning to understand there is some muscle in these skinny old arms of mine; and their beloved insanity frame-job is about to be dissolved in an acid bath of Truth.

If this dawns on the psycho-fascist Americans they will likely offer a false peace. That is what my Old Pal God is saying.

If it wasn't for its false heart America would have no heart at all.

America will attempt to turn my victory over American psycho-fascism into its pat on my back.

Perhaps some praise, some declaring I have passed some test, (throwing in the veiled threats to reveal some evil deed I am said in popular gossip to have committed), some journalism prizes, a medal from the fascist-controlled White House, talk show invitations, pussy lining up at my door as far at my old eyes can see, and enough money for beer and fried chicken for the rest of my life.

The Americans will do this thinking I am as stupid as their ten million blows to my head were intended to make me.

So, in the context of God's reminder to me of just what sneaky cheats the Americans are, I will reiterate the terms under which America will be allowed to surrender. The key words here are "will be allowed"; and when and if the Americans are allowed to surrender they will thank God for being allowed.

America exterminated my progeny, Dear Reader, and God's Space War is Do Unto Others warfare. America's choice is to get what it gave, the end of its progeny, or surrender; and surrender will be most difficult.

I don't know if you have ever been on a battlefield, Dear Reader, but in the heat of battle surrender more often than not results in death to the trigger-happiness of the other side.

First, to be allowed to surrender, America must immediately pay the sum of the "Defeat" total noted in my daily headlines. Today it is $620 billion, tomorrow it will be $621 billion.

Payment will not be accepted in that funny money America prints like a lunatic counterfeiter; but in gold and land at the price of gold and land when America attacked me in 1967.

Second, America pays me, immediately, 50,000 dollars per day for every day the American people have joined in with the American government in the torture-enslavement of me, somewhere around 1972 I would guess, unless that evil went on long before then.

That is, a big party, praise, medals, booze, babes, and a million bucks would not clear the slate. I might go to the party, and I might enjoy the booze, babes and praise, and I might accept the million bucks, but God's Space War against the United States of America and Judaism (which is involved in this torture-enslavement up to the hilt) would go on forever and forever and forever.

America did the crime, it pays the fine or it does the time, as the Americans would say.

Now let's return to our story of Tatoo, whose clan has been found by Space Sailors patrolling Earth; and the Space Sailors have signaled Tatoo, who had come to the point awaiting certain death for her and her clan in the northern Africa desert.

The signal was three blinks of a light from their ship in the night sky announcing they were there.

Tatoo and her band are about to be rescued, and the problem faced by the Space Sailors rescuing them is how to rescue them without driving them insane.

Tatoo, Part 6

We began our rescue of Tatoo and her clan by revealing to her our presence, and delivering help and direction to her by what we came to call The Teaching Game.

If you ever think we are talking to you; and there may be many who talk to you claiming to be us; if we are not talking to you through The Teaching Game it is not we who are talking to you.

Remember this.

When we told you about the Great Tragedy just before it took place before we went into our cave of mourning and anger, that was an example of The Teaching Game. That you did not learn the lesson is your disaster, not ours.

Though we are the Masters of Telepathy across the Universe second only to God, and though telepathy was Tatoo's native language for the five million years she lived in God's Grace among us before she was marooned on Hell, we did not speak to her in telepathy at that point, because our voices might have shocked her; because while she was what she was she did not know what she was.

No, we dropped little crumbs of awareness for her to follow across the wilderness floor, not great signs, not big things, but droplets of milky pleasure to encourage her to learn.

Showing her the three lights in the sky was the first crumb of hopeful knowledge we gave her, and though it was just blink, blink, blink from the right eye of the Holy Wolf it was enough to alert her, like the scent of a horse-lover munching an apple will bring a horse to the fence asking for a bite.

Tatoo was thrilled at the sight of the blinking lights, and she thought constantly of them all the next day in the terrible heat of the northern Africa desert as she urged her clan along toward the place now called Timbuktu, Time Back Two.

Time Back Two was too far too far away to reach in their condition, but she did not know that.

Now she was moving slowly westward toward it as if it were El Dorado; and because of the lights she and her clan moved on in enhanced hope and lifted spirits.

Tatoo kept no secrets from her clan, not her despair when she despaired, nor not her joy in seeing our lights, and when the next night fell and the clan had made camp she waited until the Holy Wolf, which resides in what you call the Milky Way, appeared in the dark sky, and she pointed out to them where the blinking lights had been in the right eye of the Holy Wolf; and the entire clan watched that spot, watched that spot, and one by one fell asleep seeing no blinking light.

We Space Sailors felt further blinking would excite them too much, and drive them mad with hope.

Tatoo alone remained awake after all the others had fallen asleep, and we could hear her wingless telepathy attempting to free itself, like the first bumps a chick makes in an egg as it begins to peck and scratch its way out.

On the second night we added a progression. We blinked three times again, this time from the left eye of the Holy Wolf, then after a few minutes, perhaps ten minutes, we blinked again, one time only, this time from the Holy Wolf's nose; then we blinked no more, and a happy Tatoo fell asleep.

After a very short trek the next day, Tatoo and her clan came upon what they had not seen in a week or two, they came upon trees, three trees, and with the trees one blessed pool of water.

Three blinks and one blink. Tatoo immediately put it together. She knew she had been told about these trees and this water the night before.

There was a certain stunned awe among the clan, like something holy had happened, and they decided they should stay there for three days, in a sense to worship as well as to rest, to answer three with three.

However, that was not a safe thing to do (nor were we fit to be worshipped), because the little oasis belonged to a violent tribe of desert people; and we needed to get Tatoo's clan away from there the next day because our bird's eye view showed us the tribe was slowly moving toward the oasis, its sheep and asses feeding on the sparse brown grass along the way.

There was great reluctance among the clan to leave that place, and even Tatoo agreed the signs in the Holy Wolf had meant they should stay there for three days.

It is the way with The Teaching Game, the student at first overly interprets the lesson.

So we began to agitate Tatoo by making an unpleasant sub-audible telepathic noise on the first night after their arrival at the oasis, and as a result a feeling of anxiety overcame her.

Though she still was what she naturally was, a Space Sailor five million years old, she was also a primitive western Chinese young woman and her interpretation of the agitation was that the oasis was haunted by hostile spirits; and she expressed that to her clan, and people of her clan began feeling ghosts all around them, and were fearful of them; and the next morning at the first hello of the new day the clan fled the oasis and continued its trek toward the Mystery Place Tatoo instinctively called the Ear.

You may recall it was Chawon who called it the Ear when he set his ship Sweet Beauty down some 45 thousand years before, and said he would bury his ship there, and it was there he was captured and tortured and eaten by the wild Earthpeople who lived there at that time.

Sweet Beauty is still buried there.

By the time of Tatoo's pilgrimage to the Ear every school child in the Gala Sea knew about the Ear, a place on a continent shaped like a skull on the planet called Hell, where seven of their own race were marooned.

The story of Hell is famous throughout the Gala Sea and stories of human episodes are frequently told. It is not a primary story among our race of story tellers (we never talk, we sing; we never walk, we dance), it is like Moby Dick or Hamlet, or the Monkey Who Stole the Beautiful Chinese Princess, and, as the Chinese story goes, carried her off to what is now Japan; the children coming from his many rapes of her becoming the Japanese race.

That is, the story of Hell is a well known and popular story but few build their lives around it. We live in a Universe of many stories and many more interesting things to sing about than Hell and the plight of those who live there.

(To Be Continued)

Meanwhile, the United States of America, unaware that it was about to eat the fire, passed through the 113th day of its last year.

Tatoo, Part 5

The $619 Billion Defeat

Jews Jaws Eight Up

Shark America Two Down

Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 348 (4.1 in Baja California; Sharp Rise Continues)

Virgil's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923

Expect a Profound Act of God Against Israel & USA on June 7, 2008

Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2008

George W. Bush Will Destroy the World

Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event

Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: The Secret Story, Tatoo (5)

Today's code is "112th Day, Last Year".

We are running hard before the wind today; America should have surrendered yesterday.

There is a code is Spanish I do not quiet understand. "Sin Darnos Quenta", which I think means "Without Realizing", but I do not know Spanish.

My feeling is this means America's great disaster will happen without America knowing it is happening until after it has happened.

It is remarkable that we are in the midst of the Great Battle, Armageddon, and the Americans, those witting and unwitting, willing and unwilling servants of Satan, are not aware of it. Such is the military genius of God.

Such is my military genius that the Americans think they are superior to me.

There is a thickness to war, a stickiness, that those who are in it feel--it never goes away--a feeling of being on the brink of something--action, death, something--like Fate by the name of Chance whispering in your ear.

But if you cannot feel that stickiness you are an unaware fool and you die mercifully stupid.

The seven-day earthquake pattern, a year ago seemingly always to be under 200, approached 350 today, and after we received the Sin Darnos Quenta code a 4.2 occurred in Baja California; not a big quake, hardly worth mentioning in normal times, but seeing the thickening of the pattern and it coming after the Spanish language code was received gives us cause to mark it on our Battle Map.

Our Sweet Muse has come out of her cave of mourning and anger which she entered after she told us of the "Great Tragedy" of Israel's premeditated murder of Reuters' Palestinian cameraman, Fadel Shana, which she told us about just before it took place.

That bitter foretelling reminds us of the promise of her story of Tatoo, advance telling of events that will knock our socks of--both the advance telling and the events themselves--as she proves the metaphorical accuracy of the Japanese myth of their creation.

Note, Dear Reader, as the Republican American Fascists and the Israeli Victim Fascists strain at the fragile restraints keeping them from bringing nuclear war onto this Earth, onto you, Dear Read, onto you, our story takes us to the other side of the world, to where the sun rises on the Bridge to Heaven when darkness falls on Jerusalem; so our eyes will elsewhere when Israel disappears in a tornado of flame because of its spiritual sodomy, and we do not see it and so do not turn into pillars of salt.

There is no getting the Jews to live in peace with their neighbors. God has tried for thousands of years; but they are compelled to pick at their neighbors like a child picking at a scab.

Thou shalt not covet what is thy neighbors', God told them; but that coveting, that coveting, was always one of the joys of their lives.

So now let's return to the story of Tatoo, told fresh daily, your reporter Virgil, your guide through the Hell you now enter, being nought but Sweet Muse's beloved typist, Sweet Muse taking you and I to where? Neither you nor I know, but to marvelous things, but to marvelous events.

Tatoo, Part 5

There were then and there still are now constant Gala Sea Watch Patrol Vessels searching for the seven marooned Space Sailors, Chawon, Tatoo, Margaret, Agnes, Jacob, Homer and Effendi.

Now, in 2008, some have been found, but that number is secret. We don't want you satanic rascals to know how many of them remain at your mercy...you who are utterly lacking in the quality of mercy.

Finding these marooned Space Sailors was as easy as finding seven needles in a haystack. These were Space Sailor souls reincarnated into human bodies unknown numbers of times, constantly at a loss to who they were, because they knew they were not what they appeared to be; they knew they were not human beings.

As it turned out, Tatoo's great error in leading her tribe into the northern Africa desert was her salvation and the foundation of the Japanese race, because the needle had left the haystack and was where no needle should have been.

The trudging western Chinese, following their clan leader on faith alone into trackless desert and apparent certain heartless, lonely death, became as clear to the eyes of patrolling Space Sailors as pink peaches on an empty table.

The problem we Space Sailors faced was not just to rescue them, but how to rescue them without driving them insane; for we are so different from the human being, and man had never flown then--still long before the appearance of Timemarker--and man had never seen a flying object except in rumor and in tall tales of dragons and fiery chariots and spinning wheels in the sky; and what good would it have been to save their bodies and destroy their minds?

It was not in our capability to separate the soul from the mind and the body. We could not just pluck Tatoo out of her situation, because she was melded with her situation. We had to separate her from that, and separate all the members of her clan from that; because we knew her from before her marooning and we knew she would not leave her clan behind even to go to Heaven.

Salvation is not as easy as the unsaved seem to think.

Had we found Tatoo in a different situation, had we found her, say, little western Chinese girl playing in the dust, we could have taken her entire lifetime to free her soul from the darkness which is humanity, so when she passed on she would awaken to the reality of herself, and like a soldier when the war has ended, put down her human tools and reunite with us.

Such was the intended story of Margaret, whom we found in her life as Joan, Joan of Arc to history, but could only rescue her after her terrible burning at the stake--and then what was it we rescued, but a trembling cinder of herself, needing healing, needing healing, as she walked the halls of our Great Ship, Peacemaker, a scar among the beauty of us all, but a veteran, and we could see past her burns of Hell.

(It was late in the game then and perhaps we were frustrated, to have made the recovery of the soul of Margaret so painful to the body and mind of Joan.

(We Space Sailors are not gods; we learn as we go along. Being only soul, we did not understand the enwrapment of spirit and flesh.

(But the saving of Margaret-Joan was to come centuries after the saving of Tatoo, and what took place in the desert of northern Africa was a totally different story.

(Were we wiser then? Or were we just not so desperate as later, as the death of the Earth grew nearer, and the loss of our Seven Souls seemed to be forever, that we had caused Joan so much pain in the rescue of Margaret?

(We did not yet understand, on May 30, 1431, how tightly the soul was melded to the personality; how less our understanding in 700 BC, yet we accomplished the first so well and the second so poorly.

(Were we so much wiser in that early time that we took so much care in the rescue of Tatoo, and bumbled so in the rescue of Margaret-Joan; perhaps not. As Timemarker told us, better not to question what we did after we have done it because we will never again know the full equation of our decision at the time.

(So different were the rescues of the two marooned women Space Sailors, but in odd historical coincidence both were 19 years old when rescued, Tatoo from the burning desert of northern Africa and Margaret-Joan from the stake the British burned her alive at--putting out of the flames for a time after her clothing was burned away so as to lustfully view her blistered but naked form while she writhed in pain.

(We Space Sailors still hate the Brits for that.

(It took some time for Margaret's soul to recover, but she recovered and was born again, and born again, and born again, joining us in our search for Chawon and the others still missing, she being used to the ways of Hell while we were not; but clearly marked by us so she would never again disappear like a needle in a haystack.

(We understood some things; we were not stupid; but this rescuing of marooned souls was new to us.)

Our first contact with Tatoo occurred when she lay upon her back on the desert ground, still warm in the night after a cruel desert day, and was looking up at the Holy Wolf wondering what to do, what to do as death and disaster closed in all around her.

We blinked the lights of our ship, once, twice, three times rapidly, and while she did not know for certain what we were, she knew we were there; and that renewed her hope, and she went back and renewed with her own hope the hope of her clan.

To Tatoo we were Mystery Salvation blinking among the stars; to Tatoo we were a sign she was not alone; to Tatoo we were a glimmer of understanding of who she was.

Tatoo's clan was spotted about 50 miles west of the Nile, far upriver, where the Aswan Dam is now, bedraggled but brave, backs straight though the weight of death was upon them.

Her clan was spotted by the six-member crew of the Great Endeavor, who were attracted to their position by Tatoo's plaintive, whimpering telepathy, which was weak, having been encased in human minds for over a thousand years; but made stronger by the stress of the situation, as stunted human telepathy often is.

You have heard such stories, perhaps, a mother knows her son is dead in the war before the telegram arrives from the War Department, the telepathic bond between mother and child having been severed by the shrapnel of death...and she knew it, she knew it, a common experience among human mothers of human war dead going back to cave-dweller days.

Stress increases telepathy in Earthpeople, as does worshipful prayer.

And so, the young and beautiful Tatoo, having led her clan into certain death, into an Impossible Pocket, unknowingly sent her telepathy to the Universe asking, pleading, calling--show me the way.

And she was heard by the crew of Bold Endeavor, then in the 30th year of their 50-year patrol of Hell.

The crew thought about this, and they thought about it hard. We Space Sailors learn as we go along. We are Space Sailors, only Space Sailors; and the crew of Bold Endeavor had found the first of the seven marooned Space Sailors after tens of thousands of years of searching, and they were not about to mess this up.

(To Be Continued)

Meanwhile, the United States of America, unaware that it was about to eat the fire, passed through the 112th day of its last year

Tatoo, Part 4 (Stopped 4)

The $618 Billion Defeat

Jews Jaws Seven Up

Shark America Three Down

Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 338

Virgil's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923

Expect a Profound Act of God Against Israel & USA on June 7, 2008

Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2008

George W. Bush Will Destroy the World

Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event

Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: The Secret Story, Tatoo (4) Stopped 4

Today's code is "111th Day, Last Year".

Welcome to the dance.

We have an extra code word today, "Spill", which I think means "Tipping Point", but we shall see what we shall see.

Looking at our Time Map and our Battle Map--since Time is the field of battle, and in this battle even yesterday is not safe--we remind ourselves what we have been noting for some time in our opening headlines, "Expect a Profound Act of God Against Israel & USA on June 7, 2008".

It is my current understanding this headline relates directly to Israel's premeditated murder of Reuters' Palestinian cameraman Fadel Shana last week, documented in advance so exquisitely in this work.

I wonder at the immense sinfulness in God's Eyes of that murder of that one Palestinian by Israel. Perhaps that evil act was the last straw of evil Israeli acts that broke the back of God's patience with Israel.

We shall see what we shall see.

It is perhaps in its coverage of Israel that the American news media's profound betrayal of the American people can be seen.

Because of journalism's constant honeyed blindness toward Israel, the American people do not know how consistently wicked and cruel the Israelis
have been to the Palestinians since the enforced founding of the State of Israel on their land in 1948.

Rather, American journalism goes along with the Jewish gag that the Israelis are sugar and spice and everything nice and the Palestinians are snakes and snails and puppy dog tails.

While there may remain some slight chance the American news media will pick up the story of Israel's premeditated murder of Shana, likely that will not happen until the great betrayal of the United States of America by Israel becomes common knowledge...and then, of course, America will be up Jew Poop Creek without a paddle.

The only American of stature--and perhaps the only American at all--who speaks wisely and truthfully about Israel's treatment of the Palestinians is President Jimmy Carter, and he is loathed by the Jews for it and virtually dismissed by the American news media as a nice old man who doesn't understand Real Politics.

(Me? I am not an American; I am America's torture-slave. I was born in North Dakota in 1939, but I have the constitutional rights of a laboratory animal, which are fewer rights than those of a steer raised for butchering.)

The Israeli's cannot see the evil they do to the Palestinians--the Jews cannot see the evil they do to the Arabs--the dragon cannot smell its own dragon breath--so they weave and believe their tale of constant victimization by the sub-humans (as the Jews see the Arabs) while they make a garden out of the desert they have stolen.

(Yes, yes, God allegedly gave it all to them. Blah, blah. They are so talented at making their crimes God-assigned crimes, and so inept at obeying the Ten Commandments of God.

(It is their blindness to their own faults which constantly brings the Jews into losing conflict with other forces. They have mastered the art of being guilty without feeling guilty; and but for the blind bully backing of America they would have to learn to be civil to their neighbors.)

The conflict in that part of the world is simple action-reaction, and the actions are committed by the Jews and the reactions by the Arabs.

How telling it is how closely the Jews' treatment of the Arabs mirrors the Nazi's treatment of the Jews.

Turning from the story of the Tornado of War, the dynamic between Judaism, Christianity and Islam, which by itself would murder this Earth, we turn to the factor holding the Earth-killing dagger in its hand, the Earthquake Pattern, which I.C. News alone among news organizations covers.

In the view of I.C. News, the fact that there are now at least 100 more earthquakes around the world every week than there were a year ago is a significant news story.

To us, this indicates a building-up, an ascending progression.

Our totally Muse-written story, Tatoo, remains stopped today. There seems to be some criteria that needs to be filled if Muse is to continue.

Perhaps she is waiting for the Americans and the Jews to release me. Perhaps she is waiting for God to smash the Americans and the Jews. Perhaps she is waiting for our great space ship, Peacemaker, to arrive on station from its base on the other side of the sun and boggle the mind of the human being. She's a woman, and I'm a man, so how am I to know?

When we left off some days ago,Tatoo had realized she had led her little clan of western Chinese into an "Impossible Pocket" and it seemed likely nothing could save them; then Sweet Muse told us of the "Great Tragedy" of Israel's murder of Reuters' Shana just before it took place, and she has been hiding in the cave of her sorrow and her anger ever since.

Yet we know Tatoo's clan will be saved, because we know these adventuresome western Chinese will become the Japanese race, and will not become mummified remains in the desert sands of North Africa; and we know God's Space Sailors will save them, and the Japanese will remember those Space Sailors as Amaterasu, the Sun Goddess...but that beautiful story can only be told by my Sweet Muse because she was there and I was not, and now she weeps for the evil of Israel and of Israel's drone ally, the United States of America, which make the rescue of the human race impossible...well, which make the rescue of the Jews and the Americans impossible.

Tatoo, Part 4 (Stopped 4)

(To Be Continued)

Meanwhile, the United States of America, unaware that it was about to eat the fire, passed through the 111th day of its last year.

Taoo, Part 4 (Stopped 3)

The $617 Billion Defeat

Jews Jaws Six Up

Shark America Four Down

Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 335 (East-of-Australia Pattern Continues)

Virgil's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923

Expect a Profound Act of God Against Israel & USA on June 7, 2008

Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2008

George W. Bush Will Destroy the World

Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event

Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: The Secret Story, Tatoo (4) Stopped 2

Today's code is "108th Day, Last Year".

Having learned long ago that we cannot kick the dead horse called American journalism and expect it to get up as a result; and having just documented in advance the murder by Israel of Reuters' Palestinian cameraman Fadel Shana and received only a automated form response from Reuters, we move on in our coverage of the death of this Earth, and leave that story behind like flotsam in our wake.

A great story. No market. Oh, well.

There is something about this story, though, that makes my failure to report it a catastrophe for the human race.

Sure, it is proof of the existence of Time Travel; and sure it is proof of Israel's premeditated murder of Shana; but there is something else to it, something I almost know but don't quite know yet...I can smell the coffee of it, but it is not yet in my cup.

This is my nose for news at work.

The scent of this story is this: my not being able to report it involves even greater loss than my not having been able to report my advance knowledge of the 9/11 attack.

On the surface of it that does not make sense, Israel's murder of one Palestinian out of the tens of thousands of Palestinians Israel has murdered being of greater importance than the attack of 9/11, yet that is what my nose for news says.

Let's look again at the 9/11 story. I tracked it for three months; was solidly onto it for one month, knowing commercial aircraft would be used; and in the last few days before it took place I knew lower Manhattan was a target.

During that same period I was being tortured out of my home of a dozen years by my neighbors, and tortured into the emergency room with congestive heart failure, and tortured into this long bout of homelessness and instability of home I remain in to this day.

Yet, when I look at my pre-9/11 intelligence I know if I had been a free man my intelligence alone would have been enough to head off that attack; and then when I see what other intelligence was floating around, American, Russian, French, Israeli (yes, Israel knew about 9/11 in advance. Israel is the most despicable nation in the world.), I can see how easy it would have been to nip the bastards in the bud right then and there.

Well, no use crying over spilled blood, as Dracula and George W. Bush would say.

But then, and this is the big butt that sits on America and crushes it, the cost of 9/11 went on and on and on; and still goes on in America's stupid and fascist invasion of the Middle East; and as the Republican American Fascists and the Democratic American Fascists have it planned, it will go on forever or until the last Muslim baby is burned to a cinder.

All that horror growing out of the horror of the torture-enslavement America inflicts on God's One True Telepath. The wage of that sin truly is death.

And now...and now...my nose for news is telling me my failure to get prevent Israel's murder of Shana will have greater consequences than my failure to prevent 9/11.

How can that be, one Palestinian murdered by Israel out of the tens of thousands of Palestinians Israel has murdered being more devastating to the world than two skyscrapers falling in Manhattan, four commercial airliners deliberately crashed, and a hole in the Pentagon big enough to drive an Armageddon through?

I don't know yet, but I will, and so will you. The horrible future will tell us.

(Come, let us talk as we walk along this old man's beach, of laughter and of tears, of childhood fears, things not out of reach; let us talk of snow and ice upon the deck, let us talk of foreign creatures swimming around the wreck...foreign creatures...foreign creatures...foreign creatures swimming around the wreck.)

One would think the simple fact alone that extraterrestrials were one of my sources on my advance documentation of Israel's murder of Shana might generate some interest; but no, Americans are not interested in what the American media does not give them permission to be interested in.

"And suddenly it was too late, the point of no return had been passed," so said the Gala Sea Daily News, "and every human being on the planet Earth died."

What a lonely thing is extinction; the human being with no face to put before the mirror to admire; no coffee in the coffee shops; no newspapers in the newspaper stands; winds blowing about the residue of a race that once was.

No human voices, how sweet the sound,

Meanwhile, shortly before this Earth killed the human race in order to save herself, we look to our serialized story called,Tatoo, the story of how God's Space Sailors rescued the earliest ancestors of the Japanese and set them down on the islands now called Japan; and--oh, oh--we see that our Sweet Muse is still not talking.

Like the Sun Goddess Amaterasu Herself, Sweet Muse has hidden in a cave and refuses to come out.

How can we coax Sweet Muse out of the cave in which she hides her weeping face, weeping for what she called the "Great Tragedy" just before Shana was murdered by Israel?

What was it that brought the Sun Goddess Amaterasu out of the cave? I refer here to the Japanese myth of the sun not having risen for three days, which matches the Jewish myth of the sun not having set for three days?

A mirror, yes; it was a mirror that brought the Sun Goddess out of the cave.

I must find a mirror with which to lure my Sweet Muse out of the cave of her mourning.

Tatoo, Part 4 (Stopped 3)

(To Be Continued)

Meanwhile, the United States of America, unaware that it was about to eat the fire, passed through the 108th day of its last year.