Tatoo, Part 14
The $635 Billion Defeat
Jews Jaws Four Up
Shark America Six Down
Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 338 (5.0 in the hot zone at the tip of the Aleutians which saw two 6-plus quakes last week; the Crack in the Egg running from there to and far beyond where the 6.8 quake took place in Japan yesterday, and to and beyond where the volcano erupted in southern Chile after 10,000 years dormancy.
Virgil's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923; give him a call if you would rather not see this Earth die.
Expect a Profound Act of God Against Israel & USA on June 7, 2008. Attack Codes are "Two Birds, One Stone" & "Double Down".
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 (14).
Today's code is "128th Day, Last Year".
The best planned lays of mice and men often do not go as anticipated, and the subject of today's report was scheduled to be on the damnation of American government pigs, which is of course self-evident and hardly worth the time to talk about.
A CIA agent went to Hell a week ago Tuesday, with proof that would knock your socks off, but no one seems to care; and rightly so.
Instead, my Old Pal God has asked me to look at our Time Map again today, to see if I can see something good for me in the immediate future.
At first glance it doesn't look that good and it doesn't look that bad, but my curiosity piqued, I take closer look.
This is Thursday, and our current countdown is to Sunday, Mother's Day, when we are expecting a very strong God's Space War attack on the United States of America; so strong that the psycho-fascist Americans have been given a grace period during which they have been advised to surrender their alleged right to torture and enslave God's One True Telepath.
That grace period ends Sunday morning, California time.
When we come around to Mothers' Day each year I am reminded of the agony psycho-fascist America inflicted on my mother, and I wish Thor would loan me his hammer and Neptune would anger the sea and sink the whole goddamned US Navy.
This anger always passes, but some day on some Mothers' Day I will have that hammer and I will hammer America's coffin shut for having tortured my mother.
Until I have that hammer, though, anger and rage are not my friends; so I must be content in knowing that in the Land of the Dead, psycho-fascist American mothers who have passed on in the knowledge of Telepath-torture are weeping and gnashing their teeth.
Do unto my mother as you would have God do unto you mother.
She is dead now; so America cannot undo its sins against her.
Do Unto Others, Fools, Do Unto Others.
I am always amazed that the United States of America considers itself to be a Christian country; it is not, though there is a lot of spouting and shouting about the Lord.
One of the key instructions of Jesus is to know people by their works; and if we look at the works of America we see not one drop of Jesus in them.
If you are going to be Christian you must be Christ-like, otherwise you are an empty vessel thinking you are full of wine.
You can go to church a hundred times a day every day, you can sing all the hymns, and you can memorize all the scriptures, but if you are not Christ-like you are falsely Christian and might as well bow down before a golden calf.
I continue to marvel at America's persecution of Barack Obama's now "denounced" minister, the Rev. Jeremiah Wright; calling him a "minister of hate" when we have ministers all over America saying kill Muslims, kill leftists, kill, kill all who dare not to be like us.
Murdering Muslims and leftists is acceptable Christian preaching in the United States of America; and Jesus would lash those preachers and cast them out of the churches.
The Rev. Wright preaches a solid Christian message; and America doesn't like it because it is true.
You shall reap what you sow, and when you sow murder in the Middle East and claim to be sowing democracy, you get back what you sowed not what you claim and even believe you sowed.
God Damn America! He said that from the pulpit on one of those looped sound bites the psycho-sodomite Fox TV pundits like to display, but his congregation is the current generation of a people who were enslaved...enslaved...enslaved by the American White people for over 300 years, and have been persecuted for another 150 years after their so-called Emancipation.
I have been a slave of the American people for only some 35 years, and I say God Damn America with gusto and conviction and with the happy understanding that America is in fact damned by God.
When it comes to slavery and freedom, the United States of America is a sow's ear thinking it is a silk purse.
If the Rev. Wright were my minister I would go to church every Sunday and twice on Easter.
You know, Dear Reader, the people of Jesus' time did not like the teachings of Jesus--and that's why they murdered him--and when a person preaches the true word of Jesus that person is hated by all--especially by Christians.
Reap what you sow. Do unto others. Love thy neighbor as thyself. These are not earnest suggestions by Jesus, these are fundamental laws of God by which you save or lose your soul.
This work I prepare for you each day is concerns the approaching death of this Earth, and it is not an exercise of some insanity as so many wish and so many assume and so many hope, it is truth boring in on you.
Scientists and politicians and snake oil TV preachers have mocked this Earth-Death concept passed on to me personally by God in 1963, and they have tortured me ruthlessly for the gift of telepahy God gave me to put this concept before you.
Earth dead before the sun rises on New Year's morning, 2065. The human race extinct before the sun sets on 2045. Those are the two fundamental dangers this work approaches, this planet approaches, this species approaches, and thus far no answer comes to me from America but torture.
Nought but torture, Dear Reader, nought but torture.
Look around you. A food famine is about to sweep this Earth like a cyclone; you have a stupid fascist squatting in the White House who believes murder and prevarication are the course God has set him on; America's economy and honor are crumbling into dust; there is a volcano erupting that has been dormant for 10,000 years, just exactly at the New Crack in the Egg I have been telling you about.
Look around you; read your doom written on the wall of the news.
And look, you have three clowns running for President who don't even mention this great and seemingly inexorable horror facing all life on this Earth; and one wonders...and one wonders...and one wonders if they even know.
And you know, Dear Reader, at this very moment Big Money is plotting to profit from humankind's tumbling into Hell. There, in a nut shell, is the psychosis of Big Money.
As Jesus said, God Damn Big Money.
Now let's turn to our story of Tatoo, where Tatoo and her clan of western Chinese have just been brought aboard Peacemaker, and are awaiting, hooded to protect them from the awesome beauty around them, for something to happen.
Tatoo, Part 14
The final problem that remained in acclimating Tatoo and her clan of western Chinese to their new status of our guests aboard Peacemaker was our color.
Ours is a shocking color to earth people; and so we at first did something of which vestiges can be seen in Japan to this day, some 3,000 years later.
We presented a theatrical production for them--something we do for ourselves more or less constantly when at sea for decades and centuries, and the actors and actresses wore white makeup especially for that performance for our guests, white makeup such as the famed Geisha of Japan wear.
If you know the Japanese theater forms called "Noh" and "Kabuki" you might appreciate that they are reflections of Space Sailor theater, attended thousands of times by those western Chinese being changed into Japanese.
Noh and Kabuki are two of the many aspects of Japan which grew out of our hospitality, as are the "Akadama", the "Red Dot", Japanese flag, the tatami floor, and the rice brew known as rice wine, Osake'.
The play we presented them that day was proceeded by a telepathic announcement to our guests to please remove their hoods; and when they did they looked around with gasps of awe, for they found themselves in a large tatami-floored room the entire back wall of which was transparent, and outside the transparent wall was the sea, Space, and nestled in the sea was the island called Earth, and it was round, and it was beautiful, and it was far, far away, and growing more distant even as the play was presented.
While our guests were still stunned by this, a bell was struck, creating a single high note, and from behind curtains at the rear of the stage on the inner wall of the room came a high pitched sing-song female voice in the highly formal language of Space Sailor theater, and the actress spoke in only our language while a telepathic translation took place.
"We are Sailors of the Gala Sea. We are strangers to Your shore. We heard about You long ago, and We wanted to know more."
As the actress spoke she entered from stage left and walked slowly, slowly, ever so slowly toward center stage, her walking and high pitched but musical voice accompanied by light strikings of the bell by a musician behind the curtain, and soon a regularly repeating hollow thumping sound came in, played on a hand drum by a second musician behind the curtain.
The actress was Proso, sister of Chawon, and the Space Sailor known as the Purple Fish Goddess from Time Back Two to Babylon, and she was Captain of Peacemaker.
She wore the elaborate gown she had worn for the Dogon People, form fitting and its padded hem reaching to the floor and dragging a little fabric behind her on the floor; and it was her garment that caused the Dogon People to think she was a fish.
The Purple Fish Goddess was wearing a kimono quite similar to those worn by Japanese brides today, and her spoken-sung story was in a language very similar to modern royal court and theatrical Japanese.
This was how the western Chinese who would be our guests aboard Peacemaker for some 40 years were introduced to the language which is still spoken--only slightly changed--in Japan today.
Tatoo and her clan were enthralled by the appearance and musical voice of Proso and sat in rapt attention as she sang this to them to the pings and thumps of the musicians:
"We have sailed from There to Here, from the Center of the Gala Sea to Your Earth, seeking to find seven Friends of Ours Who were marooned on Your Earth long, long ago.
"Do You know Them? Their names are Chawon, Jacob, Homer, Effendi, Margaret, Agnes and Tatoo. If You know Them point Them out to Us please, because We love Them so much and have been searching for Them for so long."
At the sound of her name, all the western Chinese eyes turned in unison to Tatoo, whose eyes now brimmed with tears and her face was taken over by joy and revelation. She was home! She was home! She was with her own kind!
The curtain opened and there sat on cushions in the Japanese style seven male musicians dressed in elaborately embossed costumes made of golden fabric with flower-like prints spaced throughout; and there was a gasp from the audience because all parts of the men they could see, their heads, faces and hands, were Deep Purple.
Proso, the Purple Fish Goddess, continued to sing-talk to the music the musicians were making, all with hand drums and bells, except one with a flute and another with a stringed instrument he twanged upon.
"Let Us see if Anyone among You is Our Beloved Friend. Let Us see if She knows the answers to Our questions.
"Two and two is..."
From deep within her, almost inaudibly, Tatoo said "Four".
"Ah", sang Proso, "and what is the name of the planet from which We just plucked You?"
Tatoo said, "Molly", though she had never heard the word in her life, nor had she had any concept of what a planet until she saw Earth through the transparent wall.
"And what is God's name?" Proso sang.
"Hope." and Tatoo realized she had just sung the word she had never heard as if she had sung it a thousand million times.
"And who is your love of loves?"
"Chawon! Chawon! Chawon is my husband!" It was at that moment Tatoo remembered who she was.
"Welcome back, Tatoo, and welcome aboard, Sister Sailor," said Proso.
(To Be Continued)
Meanwhile, the United States of America, unaware that it was about to eat the fire, passed through the 128th day of its last year.
Jews Jaws Four Up
Shark America Six Down
Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 338 (5.0 in the hot zone at the tip of the Aleutians which saw two 6-plus quakes last week; the Crack in the Egg running from there to and far beyond where the 6.8 quake took place in Japan yesterday, and to and beyond where the volcano erupted in southern Chile after 10,000 years dormancy.
Virgil's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923; give him a call if you would rather not see this Earth die.
Expect a Profound Act of God Against Israel & USA on June 7, 2008. Attack Codes are "Two Birds, One Stone" & "Double Down".
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 (14).
Today's code is "128th Day, Last Year".
The best planned lays of mice and men often do not go as anticipated, and the subject of today's report was scheduled to be on the damnation of American government pigs, which is of course self-evident and hardly worth the time to talk about.
A CIA agent went to Hell a week ago Tuesday, with proof that would knock your socks off, but no one seems to care; and rightly so.
Instead, my Old Pal God has asked me to look at our Time Map again today, to see if I can see something good for me in the immediate future.
At first glance it doesn't look that good and it doesn't look that bad, but my curiosity piqued, I take closer look.
This is Thursday, and our current countdown is to Sunday, Mother's Day, when we are expecting a very strong God's Space War attack on the United States of America; so strong that the psycho-fascist Americans have been given a grace period during which they have been advised to surrender their alleged right to torture and enslave God's One True Telepath.
That grace period ends Sunday morning, California time.
When we come around to Mothers' Day each year I am reminded of the agony psycho-fascist America inflicted on my mother, and I wish Thor would loan me his hammer and Neptune would anger the sea and sink the whole goddamned US Navy.
This anger always passes, but some day on some Mothers' Day I will have that hammer and I will hammer America's coffin shut for having tortured my mother.
Until I have that hammer, though, anger and rage are not my friends; so I must be content in knowing that in the Land of the Dead, psycho-fascist American mothers who have passed on in the knowledge of Telepath-torture are weeping and gnashing their teeth.
Do unto my mother as you would have God do unto you mother.
She is dead now; so America cannot undo its sins against her.
Do Unto Others, Fools, Do Unto Others.
I am always amazed that the United States of America considers itself to be a Christian country; it is not, though there is a lot of spouting and shouting about the Lord.
One of the key instructions of Jesus is to know people by their works; and if we look at the works of America we see not one drop of Jesus in them.
If you are going to be Christian you must be Christ-like, otherwise you are an empty vessel thinking you are full of wine.
You can go to church a hundred times a day every day, you can sing all the hymns, and you can memorize all the scriptures, but if you are not Christ-like you are falsely Christian and might as well bow down before a golden calf.
I continue to marvel at America's persecution of Barack Obama's now "denounced" minister, the Rev. Jeremiah Wright; calling him a "minister of hate" when we have ministers all over America saying kill Muslims, kill leftists, kill, kill all who dare not to be like us.
Murdering Muslims and leftists is acceptable Christian preaching in the United States of America; and Jesus would lash those preachers and cast them out of the churches.
The Rev. Wright preaches a solid Christian message; and America doesn't like it because it is true.
You shall reap what you sow, and when you sow murder in the Middle East and claim to be sowing democracy, you get back what you sowed not what you claim and even believe you sowed.
God Damn America! He said that from the pulpit on one of those looped sound bites the psycho-sodomite Fox TV pundits like to display, but his congregation is the current generation of a people who were enslaved...enslaved...enslaved by the American White people for over 300 years, and have been persecuted for another 150 years after their so-called Emancipation.
I have been a slave of the American people for only some 35 years, and I say God Damn America with gusto and conviction and with the happy understanding that America is in fact damned by God.
When it comes to slavery and freedom, the United States of America is a sow's ear thinking it is a silk purse.
If the Rev. Wright were my minister I would go to church every Sunday and twice on Easter.
You know, Dear Reader, the people of Jesus' time did not like the teachings of Jesus--and that's why they murdered him--and when a person preaches the true word of Jesus that person is hated by all--especially by Christians.
Reap what you sow. Do unto others. Love thy neighbor as thyself. These are not earnest suggestions by Jesus, these are fundamental laws of God by which you save or lose your soul.
This work I prepare for you each day is concerns the approaching death of this Earth, and it is not an exercise of some insanity as so many wish and so many assume and so many hope, it is truth boring in on you.
Scientists and politicians and snake oil TV preachers have mocked this Earth-Death concept passed on to me personally by God in 1963, and they have tortured me ruthlessly for the gift of telepahy God gave me to put this concept before you.
Earth dead before the sun rises on New Year's morning, 2065. The human race extinct before the sun sets on 2045. Those are the two fundamental dangers this work approaches, this planet approaches, this species approaches, and thus far no answer comes to me from America but torture.
Nought but torture, Dear Reader, nought but torture.
Look around you. A food famine is about to sweep this Earth like a cyclone; you have a stupid fascist squatting in the White House who believes murder and prevarication are the course God has set him on; America's economy and honor are crumbling into dust; there is a volcano erupting that has been dormant for 10,000 years, just exactly at the New Crack in the Egg I have been telling you about.
Look around you; read your doom written on the wall of the news.
And look, you have three clowns running for President who don't even mention this great and seemingly inexorable horror facing all life on this Earth; and one wonders...and one wonders...and one wonders if they even know.
And you know, Dear Reader, at this very moment Big Money is plotting to profit from humankind's tumbling into Hell. There, in a nut shell, is the psychosis of Big Money.
As Jesus said, God Damn Big Money.
Now let's turn to our story of Tatoo, where Tatoo and her clan of western Chinese have just been brought aboard Peacemaker, and are awaiting, hooded to protect them from the awesome beauty around them, for something to happen.
Tatoo, Part 14
The final problem that remained in acclimating Tatoo and her clan of western Chinese to their new status of our guests aboard Peacemaker was our color.
Ours is a shocking color to earth people; and so we at first did something of which vestiges can be seen in Japan to this day, some 3,000 years later.
We presented a theatrical production for them--something we do for ourselves more or less constantly when at sea for decades and centuries, and the actors and actresses wore white makeup especially for that performance for our guests, white makeup such as the famed Geisha of Japan wear.
If you know the Japanese theater forms called "Noh" and "Kabuki" you might appreciate that they are reflections of Space Sailor theater, attended thousands of times by those western Chinese being changed into Japanese.
Noh and Kabuki are two of the many aspects of Japan which grew out of our hospitality, as are the "Akadama", the "Red Dot", Japanese flag, the tatami floor, and the rice brew known as rice wine, Osake'.
The play we presented them that day was proceeded by a telepathic announcement to our guests to please remove their hoods; and when they did they looked around with gasps of awe, for they found themselves in a large tatami-floored room the entire back wall of which was transparent, and outside the transparent wall was the sea, Space, and nestled in the sea was the island called Earth, and it was round, and it was beautiful, and it was far, far away, and growing more distant even as the play was presented.
While our guests were still stunned by this, a bell was struck, creating a single high note, and from behind curtains at the rear of the stage on the inner wall of the room came a high pitched sing-song female voice in the highly formal language of Space Sailor theater, and the actress spoke in only our language while a telepathic translation took place.
"We are Sailors of the Gala Sea. We are strangers to Your shore. We heard about You long ago, and We wanted to know more."
As the actress spoke she entered from stage left and walked slowly, slowly, ever so slowly toward center stage, her walking and high pitched but musical voice accompanied by light strikings of the bell by a musician behind the curtain, and soon a regularly repeating hollow thumping sound came in, played on a hand drum by a second musician behind the curtain.
The actress was Proso, sister of Chawon, and the Space Sailor known as the Purple Fish Goddess from Time Back Two to Babylon, and she was Captain of Peacemaker.
She wore the elaborate gown she had worn for the Dogon People, form fitting and its padded hem reaching to the floor and dragging a little fabric behind her on the floor; and it was her garment that caused the Dogon People to think she was a fish.
The Purple Fish Goddess was wearing a kimono quite similar to those worn by Japanese brides today, and her spoken-sung story was in a language very similar to modern royal court and theatrical Japanese.
This was how the western Chinese who would be our guests aboard Peacemaker for some 40 years were introduced to the language which is still spoken--only slightly changed--in Japan today.
Tatoo and her clan were enthralled by the appearance and musical voice of Proso and sat in rapt attention as she sang this to them to the pings and thumps of the musicians:
"We have sailed from There to Here, from the Center of the Gala Sea to Your Earth, seeking to find seven Friends of Ours Who were marooned on Your Earth long, long ago.
"Do You know Them? Their names are Chawon, Jacob, Homer, Effendi, Margaret, Agnes and Tatoo. If You know Them point Them out to Us please, because We love Them so much and have been searching for Them for so long."
At the sound of her name, all the western Chinese eyes turned in unison to Tatoo, whose eyes now brimmed with tears and her face was taken over by joy and revelation. She was home! She was home! She was with her own kind!
The curtain opened and there sat on cushions in the Japanese style seven male musicians dressed in elaborately embossed costumes made of golden fabric with flower-like prints spaced throughout; and there was a gasp from the audience because all parts of the men they could see, their heads, faces and hands, were Deep Purple.
Proso, the Purple Fish Goddess, continued to sing-talk to the music the musicians were making, all with hand drums and bells, except one with a flute and another with a stringed instrument he twanged upon.
"Let Us see if Anyone among You is Our Beloved Friend. Let Us see if She knows the answers to Our questions.
"Two and two is..."
From deep within her, almost inaudibly, Tatoo said "Four".
"Ah", sang Proso, "and what is the name of the planet from which We just plucked You?"
Tatoo said, "Molly", though she had never heard the word in her life, nor had she had any concept of what a planet until she saw Earth through the transparent wall.
"And what is God's name?" Proso sang.
"Hope." and Tatoo realized she had just sung the word she had never heard as if she had sung it a thousand million times.
"And who is your love of loves?"
"Chawon! Chawon! Chawon is my husband!" It was at that moment Tatoo remembered who she was.
"Welcome back, Tatoo, and welcome aboard, Sister Sailor," said Proso.
(To Be Continued)
Meanwhile, the United States of America, unaware that it was about to eat the fire, passed through the 128th day of its last year.
posted by Virgil Kret at 4:18 PM
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