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.
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.
posted by Virgil Kret at 7:43 PM
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