Tatoo, Part 24
The $678 Billion Defeat
Jews Jaws Seven Up
Shark America Three Down
Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: ??? (The USGS Earthquake Hazards site had become too politically corrupted to be a valid source in I.C. News' earthquake study at this time.)
Virgil's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923
Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2008.
George W. Bush Will Destroy the World.
The battle codes of God's attack on Israel and its drone ally, the USA, are: "Two Birds, One Stone", "Double Down", "Home", "Sirhan Sirhan", "Admiral Moorer", "Fadel Shana", "Topsy-Turvy", "Dead Soul Family", "Admiral Moorer 2", "Nipple", "Blood of Mars", "Wait", "Cowards", "That Settles It", "Stop Right There!", "Blackout", "Turnaround", "The Pig-Weasel Axis" & "Bat Out of Hell".
Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event.
Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: The Secret Story, Tatoo (24)
Today's code is "172nd Day, Last Year".
So, this raggedy assed old newsman is expecting a huge miracle; and what else could possibly save him from psycho-fascist America's cruelty, torture and tyranny but a huge miracle?
I have documented miracle after miracle throughout the nearly four decades of America's torture-enslavement of me, so expecting a miracle is not a crazed speculation of a tortured mind, as the priesthood of America's state religion, psychiatry, might pontificate.
You can see the shell casing of a miracle of God if you look back and examine my advance documentation of the death of Tim Russert--if you dare look at it as a miracle and not just as the Telepath pulling a dead rabbit out of his hat.
What was the promise God made to me prior to Russert's death? If you have been reading this work for over two weeks you know. God's promise was there would be a blackout and a famous person's death; and I made that same promise to you.
What took place in Washington Deceit on Friday, June 13? A blackout and Tim Russert's death.
Frankly, I don't know why every news outlet in the world is not covering this story...oh, sorry...I am blacklisted, that's why.
And now God has presented me (and I in turn you) with another code, "Bat Out of Hell"; and I have been reading God's codes since long before George W. Bush fell in love with Hitler, and I know this is a big, big code which promises a big, big miracle.
And what do I see as I wait for this Bat Out of Hell miracle to take place? I see me in the Hell America created for me; and I see Tim Russert in the Hell he created for himself by betraying Truth.
Two men in two different Hells; and along comes the Bat Out of Hell code; and long experience tells me either I or the poor, damned soul of Tim Russert, or both, are about to miraculously escape from Hell.
If Tim Russert is able to escape you will somehow see a phenomenal appearance of him on the media he is most comfortable with, television, an appearance strong enough to make news, to become something of a ghostly shock and awe.
Bear in mind, the television media could easily fake this event and just as easily censor it; but what we are looking for is the real thing, so real you can spot it walking down the street coming your way. Hot Damn! Is that Tim Russert?
That miracle applied to me? I have made many suggestions to God about my escaping America's torture-enslavement like a Bat Out of Hell--from my suddenly showing up in Paris, delivered by God's Space Sailors, to all Americans who have tortured me falling dead simultaneously--but I can't think of a suggestion of mine God has ever followed, so likely it would be something different, something better.
Bear in mind, the American government could fake this too, could present the illusion America has ended its torture-enslavement of me but my work and my life would be just as encased, only in a different torture chamber.
Over the years God has shown me literally thousands of miracles. I experience whisper-miracles every day, little foreknowledges and quiet events that remind me I am not alone, and these miracles have generally come in two forms.
First, miracles God asks me to pass on to you--my hundreds of advance documentations of future events--to pass them on to you so you will know something extra is taking place outside what your pathetic news media is telling you.
Second, miracles God gives me to keep me alive and functioning, to show me time and time again that God is with me and that despite what all the Christians might say, and despite what all the Jews might say, I am doing the work God asked me to do.
What is that work? I am writing The Obituary of the World, telling you when this Earth dies (2065) and what it dies of (the stupid human race), but in daily detail.
Since I am expecting a miracle of some importance, I thought I might tell you about a miracle or two from the past, so you can get a sense of God's style in talking to me...and likely in talking to you when you learn to listen, if you wish to develop ears for that sort of thing.
I go through my memory files of what I call "Little Miracles", the private un-provable but powerful miracles God has given me over the years of my torture-enslavement, miracles meant to keep me alive and afloat in the storm of mocking wickedness which is America; and today I have chosen two out of many to tell you about because they seem to fit very well with the times, with God's current attack on Israel and its drone ally, the USA.
I have told both these stories in this work before, but readers come and go, and even if you have read them before, reading them again might help you to understand the Bat Out of Hell miracle or miracles about to take place.
This time let's call the stories of these two miracles, "America's Money Blowing in the Wind" and "The Crack in Israel's Stone Heart".
I have in my life passed through several membranes of understanding God.
I consider such a membrane to have been passed through on January 1, 1963, in Fukuoka, Japan.
That New Year's Eve I had a vivid dream of Mt. Fuji, and when I came down to breakfast my hostess, the mother of a college friend who had invited me to his home for the holiday, remarked that it was considered good luck to dream about Mt. Fuji on New Year's Eve.
A small thing, yes, but the coincidence seemed to have a special ring to it.
A few years later, the first event I was told of in advance was the crash of a BOAC passenger jet into Mt. Fuji.
I have told you that in God's Space War events are spread out in elongated time, like the first three notes of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony being played a day apart and therefore not recognizable, because of the elongation of time.
Well, the Mt. Fuji coincidence of January 1, 1963, and the Mt. Fuji crash of March, 1966, were like two notes of the same music.
(There was another Fuji message between those two, when I received my commission to write the Obituary of the World, but that Fuji message constitutes another story altogether.)
You should understand, I had known about that BOAC plane crash in advance. I was riding on a commuter train between Kobe and Osaka, Japan, knowing it was taking place as it took place, and when I arrived at my job at the Mainichi Daily News the news was just breaking.
How do you think that made me feel?
That was the first such experience of the untold numbers of such experiences yet to come, and I asked the questions anyone might have asked. Why that plane? Why those innocent people? If I knew that much why didn't I know enough to stop the event from happening?
(Like just like a week ago today (Friday), why did I know enough about the death of Tim Russert to document it in advance but was unable to prevent it?)
But that, too, is another story, isn't it?
What I want to point out is that all the miracles I have been given have been connected, a chain of miracles, like a melody played in elongated time lasting from January 1, 1963 to today, and beyond.
About a year after I returned to Tokyo from covering combat in Vietnam something very usual happened in that I began to write poetry. I mean, Dear Reader, I was your blood and guts kind of guy drinking cold gin and chasing hot women and suddenly I was writing poetry; but even as I wrote that poetry I knew the poems were being dictated to me, that I was writing down what someone else was saying.
In the course of that poetry, that someone else began asking me to return to the United States of America; and this was totally out of my game plan because I was building my journalistic career in Asia, and I loved living in Japan.
So for me to leave Asia I had to be coaxed to leave, and that is what that invisible someone did.
Unbeknownst to me, at the same time that invisible someone was asking me to leave Japan and return home, American naval intelligence in Tokyo had found me to be a violent revolutionary and was plotting my murder; but that, too, is another story, isn't it?
About two years after I returned to the States, when I was married and working at the Los Angeles Times, the US naval intelligence attack on me had spread to the FBI and others attacking me, and that invisible someone suggested I get away from my home because Nixon's government wanted to murder me, and would murder my wife along with me.
This was just before I became audibly telepathic; and I suggest to you, Dear Reader, that the Nixon-Reagan Axis' desire to murder me was the first reason for which I became audibly telepathic--the first reason for which I was given that gift by God--so that Richard Nixon and Ronald Reagan (both now in Hell) were unable to murder me because I had suddenly become too oddly famous.
So, at that invisible someone's suggestion I went on the road for a few days, checking out what was going on.
I was clearly seeing the very sophisticated psycho-fascist mind-raping of me the government pigs were carrying out, mind raping constructed so that if I complained about it my complaint would appear to be paranoid delusion, the favorite frame-job of America's state religion, psychiatry.
So, I knew I was not imagining the government's psycho-fascist attack on me, but I had to know if I was imagining the invisible someone who was talking to me; and I recalled a line in the poem that had been dictated to me in Tokyo when that invisible someone was asking me to return to America.
"I will buy you a bowl of rice if you are hungry."
So, it was just after dark and I was a little cold and very hungry and I had been on the road for three days being mind-raped by Americans all along the way, and I stopped in my tracks and I said to the invisible someone, "I am hungry, buy me a bowl of rice."
It was as if a very tall invisible man was standing at my left, so much taller than I that he could drape his right arm over my right shoulder, and it was as if I could see this man's left arm extended forward and his left hand pointing at a spot about ten yards in front of me; and I looked to where the invisible hand was pointing and about three feet above the ground a dollar bill appeared out of thin air, and fell to the ground.
I picked up the dollar and took it to the first restaurant I came upon, a Chinese restaurant, and had fried rice, soup and tea for just under a dollar.
No witnesses, Dear Reader, just me and God on a lonely street in a hostile America; but God had kept God's promise and bought me a bowl of rice.
That's enough miracle talk for today. If no more urgent news is breaking tomorrow I will tell you about the miracle I am calling at this time, The Crack in Israel's Stone Heart.
Turning now to Sweet Muse's story of Tatoo and the founding of the Japanese race, Sweet Muse has just told us about the state of the Soul of Tim Russert, and today she describes a military maneuver God's Space Sailors are about to take in Past Time.
Tatoo, Part 24
In our Vertical-Time line, we God's Space Sailors are awaiting the order from God to cut down the fascist Bush family tree; that is, to kill the grandfather of George W. Bush in his crib.
In God's Space War, even yesterday is not safe.
(To Be Continued)
Meanwhile, the United States of America, unaware that it was about to eat the fire Israel will serve up, passed through the 171st day of its last year.
Jews Jaws Seven Up
Shark America Three Down
Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: ??? (The USGS Earthquake Hazards site had become too politically corrupted to be a valid source in I.C. News' earthquake study at this time.)
Virgil's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923
Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2008.
George W. Bush Will Destroy the World.
The battle codes of God's attack on Israel and its drone ally, the USA, are: "Two Birds, One Stone", "Double Down", "Home", "Sirhan Sirhan", "Admiral Moorer", "Fadel Shana", "Topsy-Turvy", "Dead Soul Family", "Admiral Moorer 2", "Nipple", "Blood of Mars", "Wait", "Cowards", "That Settles It", "Stop Right There!", "Blackout", "Turnaround", "The Pig-Weasel Axis" & "Bat Out of Hell".
Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event.
Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: The Secret Story, Tatoo (24)
Today's code is "172nd Day, Last Year".
So, this raggedy assed old newsman is expecting a huge miracle; and what else could possibly save him from psycho-fascist America's cruelty, torture and tyranny but a huge miracle?
I have documented miracle after miracle throughout the nearly four decades of America's torture-enslavement of me, so expecting a miracle is not a crazed speculation of a tortured mind, as the priesthood of America's state religion, psychiatry, might pontificate.
You can see the shell casing of a miracle of God if you look back and examine my advance documentation of the death of Tim Russert--if you dare look at it as a miracle and not just as the Telepath pulling a dead rabbit out of his hat.
What was the promise God made to me prior to Russert's death? If you have been reading this work for over two weeks you know. God's promise was there would be a blackout and a famous person's death; and I made that same promise to you.
What took place in Washington Deceit on Friday, June 13? A blackout and Tim Russert's death.
Frankly, I don't know why every news outlet in the world is not covering this story...oh, sorry...I am blacklisted, that's why.
And now God has presented me (and I in turn you) with another code, "Bat Out of Hell"; and I have been reading God's codes since long before George W. Bush fell in love with Hitler, and I know this is a big, big code which promises a big, big miracle.
And what do I see as I wait for this Bat Out of Hell miracle to take place? I see me in the Hell America created for me; and I see Tim Russert in the Hell he created for himself by betraying Truth.
Two men in two different Hells; and along comes the Bat Out of Hell code; and long experience tells me either I or the poor, damned soul of Tim Russert, or both, are about to miraculously escape from Hell.
If Tim Russert is able to escape you will somehow see a phenomenal appearance of him on the media he is most comfortable with, television, an appearance strong enough to make news, to become something of a ghostly shock and awe.
Bear in mind, the television media could easily fake this event and just as easily censor it; but what we are looking for is the real thing, so real you can spot it walking down the street coming your way. Hot Damn! Is that Tim Russert?
That miracle applied to me? I have made many suggestions to God about my escaping America's torture-enslavement like a Bat Out of Hell--from my suddenly showing up in Paris, delivered by God's Space Sailors, to all Americans who have tortured me falling dead simultaneously--but I can't think of a suggestion of mine God has ever followed, so likely it would be something different, something better.
Bear in mind, the American government could fake this too, could present the illusion America has ended its torture-enslavement of me but my work and my life would be just as encased, only in a different torture chamber.
Over the years God has shown me literally thousands of miracles. I experience whisper-miracles every day, little foreknowledges and quiet events that remind me I am not alone, and these miracles have generally come in two forms.
First, miracles God asks me to pass on to you--my hundreds of advance documentations of future events--to pass them on to you so you will know something extra is taking place outside what your pathetic news media is telling you.
Second, miracles God gives me to keep me alive and functioning, to show me time and time again that God is with me and that despite what all the Christians might say, and despite what all the Jews might say, I am doing the work God asked me to do.
What is that work? I am writing The Obituary of the World, telling you when this Earth dies (2065) and what it dies of (the stupid human race), but in daily detail.
Since I am expecting a miracle of some importance, I thought I might tell you about a miracle or two from the past, so you can get a sense of God's style in talking to me...and likely in talking to you when you learn to listen, if you wish to develop ears for that sort of thing.
I go through my memory files of what I call "Little Miracles", the private un-provable but powerful miracles God has given me over the years of my torture-enslavement, miracles meant to keep me alive and afloat in the storm of mocking wickedness which is America; and today I have chosen two out of many to tell you about because they seem to fit very well with the times, with God's current attack on Israel and its drone ally, the USA.
I have told both these stories in this work before, but readers come and go, and even if you have read them before, reading them again might help you to understand the Bat Out of Hell miracle or miracles about to take place.
This time let's call the stories of these two miracles, "America's Money Blowing in the Wind" and "The Crack in Israel's Stone Heart".
I have in my life passed through several membranes of understanding God.
I consider such a membrane to have been passed through on January 1, 1963, in Fukuoka, Japan.
That New Year's Eve I had a vivid dream of Mt. Fuji, and when I came down to breakfast my hostess, the mother of a college friend who had invited me to his home for the holiday, remarked that it was considered good luck to dream about Mt. Fuji on New Year's Eve.
A small thing, yes, but the coincidence seemed to have a special ring to it.
A few years later, the first event I was told of in advance was the crash of a BOAC passenger jet into Mt. Fuji.
I have told you that in God's Space War events are spread out in elongated time, like the first three notes of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony being played a day apart and therefore not recognizable, because of the elongation of time.
Well, the Mt. Fuji coincidence of January 1, 1963, and the Mt. Fuji crash of March, 1966, were like two notes of the same music.
(There was another Fuji message between those two, when I received my commission to write the Obituary of the World, but that Fuji message constitutes another story altogether.)
You should understand, I had known about that BOAC plane crash in advance. I was riding on a commuter train between Kobe and Osaka, Japan, knowing it was taking place as it took place, and when I arrived at my job at the Mainichi Daily News the news was just breaking.
How do you think that made me feel?
That was the first such experience of the untold numbers of such experiences yet to come, and I asked the questions anyone might have asked. Why that plane? Why those innocent people? If I knew that much why didn't I know enough to stop the event from happening?
(Like just like a week ago today (Friday), why did I know enough about the death of Tim Russert to document it in advance but was unable to prevent it?)
But that, too, is another story, isn't it?
What I want to point out is that all the miracles I have been given have been connected, a chain of miracles, like a melody played in elongated time lasting from January 1, 1963 to today, and beyond.
About a year after I returned to Tokyo from covering combat in Vietnam something very usual happened in that I began to write poetry. I mean, Dear Reader, I was your blood and guts kind of guy drinking cold gin and chasing hot women and suddenly I was writing poetry; but even as I wrote that poetry I knew the poems were being dictated to me, that I was writing down what someone else was saying.
In the course of that poetry, that someone else began asking me to return to the United States of America; and this was totally out of my game plan because I was building my journalistic career in Asia, and I loved living in Japan.
So for me to leave Asia I had to be coaxed to leave, and that is what that invisible someone did.
Unbeknownst to me, at the same time that invisible someone was asking me to leave Japan and return home, American naval intelligence in Tokyo had found me to be a violent revolutionary and was plotting my murder; but that, too, is another story, isn't it?
About two years after I returned to the States, when I was married and working at the Los Angeles Times, the US naval intelligence attack on me had spread to the FBI and others attacking me, and that invisible someone suggested I get away from my home because Nixon's government wanted to murder me, and would murder my wife along with me.
This was just before I became audibly telepathic; and I suggest to you, Dear Reader, that the Nixon-Reagan Axis' desire to murder me was the first reason for which I became audibly telepathic--the first reason for which I was given that gift by God--so that Richard Nixon and Ronald Reagan (both now in Hell) were unable to murder me because I had suddenly become too oddly famous.
So, at that invisible someone's suggestion I went on the road for a few days, checking out what was going on.
I was clearly seeing the very sophisticated psycho-fascist mind-raping of me the government pigs were carrying out, mind raping constructed so that if I complained about it my complaint would appear to be paranoid delusion, the favorite frame-job of America's state religion, psychiatry.
So, I knew I was not imagining the government's psycho-fascist attack on me, but I had to know if I was imagining the invisible someone who was talking to me; and I recalled a line in the poem that had been dictated to me in Tokyo when that invisible someone was asking me to return to America.
"I will buy you a bowl of rice if you are hungry."
So, it was just after dark and I was a little cold and very hungry and I had been on the road for three days being mind-raped by Americans all along the way, and I stopped in my tracks and I said to the invisible someone, "I am hungry, buy me a bowl of rice."
It was as if a very tall invisible man was standing at my left, so much taller than I that he could drape his right arm over my right shoulder, and it was as if I could see this man's left arm extended forward and his left hand pointing at a spot about ten yards in front of me; and I looked to where the invisible hand was pointing and about three feet above the ground a dollar bill appeared out of thin air, and fell to the ground.
I picked up the dollar and took it to the first restaurant I came upon, a Chinese restaurant, and had fried rice, soup and tea for just under a dollar.
No witnesses, Dear Reader, just me and God on a lonely street in a hostile America; but God had kept God's promise and bought me a bowl of rice.
That's enough miracle talk for today. If no more urgent news is breaking tomorrow I will tell you about the miracle I am calling at this time, The Crack in Israel's Stone Heart.
Turning now to Sweet Muse's story of Tatoo and the founding of the Japanese race, Sweet Muse has just told us about the state of the Soul of Tim Russert, and today she describes a military maneuver God's Space Sailors are about to take in Past Time.
Tatoo, Part 24
In our Vertical-Time line, we God's Space Sailors are awaiting the order from God to cut down the fascist Bush family tree; that is, to kill the grandfather of George W. Bush in his crib.
In God's Space War, even yesterday is not safe.
(To Be Continued)
Meanwhile, the United States of America, unaware that it was about to eat the fire Israel will serve up, passed through the 171st day of its last year.
posted by Virgil Kret at 9:26 PM
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