Tatoo, Part 40
The $694 Billion Defeat
THE LAST TWO EVENTS I.C. NEWS DOCUMENTED IN ADVANCE TOOK PLACE ON JUNE 13. THEY WERE THE BLACKOUT IN WASHINGTON DECEIT AND THE DEATH OF TIM RUSSERT IN WASHINGTON DECEIT.
Jews Jaws Three Up
Shark America Seven 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", "Tell Me Something Good", "FIN" & "Snake".
Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event.
Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: The Secret Story, Tatoo (40)
Today's code is "187th Day, Last Year
Pardon me, Boy, is that the God's Space War poo-poo? Yea, yea, its the end of the line. Well, Boy, you can give 'em a shiner.
And now, Dear Reader, let's shine our light into the Future, and see what we shall see.
We looked at this same scene from further back in Time some months ago; and what we saw from a distance seemed to be a trestle over which the Republican American Fascist choo-choo train must pass had collapsed.
Now, closer up, we see the same thing; only perhaps now you can see it, too.
(Melting icecaps, melting money, melting freedom, melting future, Honey.)
Were it just the Republican American Fascists on that choo-choo train one might say Good Riddance; but they are just the dumb-ass thieves
who stole the choo-choo train, and are now heading down a grade making 90 miles an hour to Calamitous Future Junction; the choo-choo train upon which you and all you love rides.
Toot! Toot! And they never came back.
Toot! Toot! And they never came back.
Toot! Toot! And they never came back again.
But, as your reporter on the scene as the train of your doom, your Doom Train. rushes to that empty space where a trestle should be, I still cannot see the scene clearly enough to know the date and time the choo-choo train goes plummet, plummet, plummet.
Toot! Toot! And they never came back.
Estimating as best I can through the fog and the gloom, I think the Republican American Fascist choo-choo train will have gone off the trestle by August 8, this year.
That is, when we Time Travelers look at the train as it is then--on August 8--it is nought but twisted metal and escaping steam, and the weeping of American eyes and the gnashing of American teeth.
My Time Travel might not be perfect, but I am the only Time Traveler you've got--and then again, my Time Travel might be perfect and I have already seen the Republican American Fascists choo-choo-training you into your graves.
Toot! Toot! And they never came back.
Since it seems possible I will lose my Internet connection before the end of July, and since I don't know when or if I will have it again, I thought I might begin to review some of the basic aspects of this work I do.
My God-given task, given in 1963, is to "Write The Obituary of the World".
As much as I might have liked it to have been, "Pluck the Head of the Human Race Out of Its Ass", that was not my commission; and try though I might to get my news through in time, there seems to be not much chance of my doing that either.
Perhaps "in time" is no longer in the human equation, and that is why all my efforts fail.
I was presented with my commission to write The Obituary of the World not as a seminary student but as a young American journalist living in Japan; so therefore my approach to writing The Obituary of the World is through observing and reporting, not through interpretation of Scriptures.
For that matter, that is my approach to God as well.
There were things God liked about me when God chose me for this job, things that might surprise you who quake in your dirty britches before the Throne of God; and those of you who think you know God so smugly well.
One of the things God liked about me was that I had left the Roman Catholic Church of my childhood before I was ten years old, which takes some moral balls and common sense.
In a sense I was doing the same dance Martin Luther had danced some 500 years earlier, but I had never heard of Martin Luther so it was a new dance to me.
My critical analysis of Roman Catholicism came when I was about eight years old, and my parents were divorcing; and within the Roman Catholic Church's interpretation of God the Father, the parent who died first would lose his or her soul, no doubt, guaranteed.
I was only eight but I knew God better than that.
Divorce among Catholics being so common these days, perhaps the Roman Catholic Church has had to modify its doctrine, which at time implied both a villainy and a stupidity within God which I knew did not exist.
So, in my little boy's mind and language I said, This interpretation of God's Law is wrong. That was scary for me to say, even to myself, because it had been drummed into me that the only way to God was through the Roman Catholic Church.
Hell, I was only a kid and I knew God better than that.
Toot! Toot! And they never came back.
Consider the obscene logic of a priest telling a little boy one of his beloved parents--the one who died first--would be damned forever because of the divorce. The second to die, however, would then be legally "widowed", not divorced, and a quick trip to the confessional would make it all better.
I was a good little boy, I did not use the word "bullshit", but that's what I saw coming out of that priest's mouth.
It took me until I was about 18 to finally break all the threads of Roman Catholic rituals and fears which imprisoned me; but though I stopped going to church of any kind, I did not stop understanding God.
Toot! Toot! And they never came back.
I rarely talk about things God likes about me. People are mean enough to me because of the Coat of Many Colors God gave me, better not go name-dropping God around polite American society.
I am leading up to telling you something my Old Pal God likes about me which you Christians and you Jews might not understand.
If you have trouble finding things you like about me, this is something God likes about me, so try it on for size if you dare.
At a certain point in my first battle in Vietnam I became terrified. That point was when a wounded Marine started screaming and there was nothing the corpsman could do, not enough needles full of anti-pain juice to inject into him to stop his screaming.
Simply stated, I was prepared to die but not to be in that much pain; and the thought crossed my mind, as I lay there on a Vietnamese grave listening to mortar rounds leaving the tube not 30 yards away, going up and coming down, coming my way; I asked myself if I should pray.
"No," I decided, "God would think me chickenshit if I prayed now".
God liked that. Go figure.
And God likes when I do battle against that American Gordian Knot, that fine interweaving of stupidity and evil of which America is made.
"... so therefore my approach to writing The Obituary of the World is through observing and reporting, not through interpretation of Scriptures."
This approach has kept me ahead on the Planetary Crisis Story since 1963, so when I say this Earth will be dead by 2065 I have a solid track record of accuracy leading up to that statement.
I find it is my accuracy, demonstrated time and again, that the American people and system are afraid of; as if in preventing my voice from describing what I have seen, that will mean what has been seen has not been seen.
These Americans, they are like children hiding under their blankets as fire rages around them, as fire seeks them out.
It is not my saying it that makes it happen; it is the censorship of what I am saying that insures it will happen.
Once I was standing at a bus stop just off Market Street in San Francisco and I saw a young woman just about to unwittingly step in front of a bus, to likely have been killed, the children she is mother of today likely never to have been born, and I yelled out to her very loud, "Watch out!", and she lived to tell the tale; and I realized God had just given me a great gift, far greater, than I had given her.
Now, if after my having shouted that out a policeman had came along and arrested me for yelling too loud, we would have a good microcosmic parallel to what America did to me for becoming audibly telepathic.
It was in my ability to warn; God had given me my telepathic voice to
warn with; but the pleasure the Americans derived from inflicting pain on me was always more valuable to them than any warning I might be bringing.
One problem with torture is that it is so much fun to do; and addictive.
In God's Space War that vulnerable-to-torture aspect of my becoming audibly telepathic is called "The Litmus Paper Ambush", pretty close in meaning to Jesus' telling us to know people by their works.
I am the Litmus Paper (Light Mouse Paper in God's Space War encoding), and in that metaphor I was sent to test the atmosphere the spirit of human race creates--I mean here the spiritual impact of all the Human Souls together.
Imagine, what a concept, guilty passengers aboard their own Doom Train. A classic God's Space War maneuver.
Tatoo, Part 40
Toot! Toot! And they never came back!
To be Continued
Meanwhile, the United States of America, about to sacrifice its existence in support Israel's Victim Fascism, passed through the 187th day of its last year.
THE LAST TWO EVENTS I.C. NEWS DOCUMENTED IN ADVANCE TOOK PLACE ON JUNE 13. THEY WERE THE BLACKOUT IN WASHINGTON DECEIT AND THE DEATH OF TIM RUSSERT IN WASHINGTON DECEIT.
Jews Jaws Three Up
Shark America Seven 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", "Tell Me Something Good", "FIN" & "Snake".
Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event.
Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: The Secret Story, Tatoo (40)
Today's code is "187th Day, Last Year
Pardon me, Boy, is that the God's Space War poo-poo? Yea, yea, its the end of the line. Well, Boy, you can give 'em a shiner.
And now, Dear Reader, let's shine our light into the Future, and see what we shall see.
We looked at this same scene from further back in Time some months ago; and what we saw from a distance seemed to be a trestle over which the Republican American Fascist choo-choo train must pass had collapsed.
Now, closer up, we see the same thing; only perhaps now you can see it, too.
(Melting icecaps, melting money, melting freedom, melting future, Honey.)
Were it just the Republican American Fascists on that choo-choo train one might say Good Riddance; but they are just the dumb-ass thieves
who stole the choo-choo train, and are now heading down a grade making 90 miles an hour to Calamitous Future Junction; the choo-choo train upon which you and all you love rides.
Toot! Toot! And they never came back.
Toot! Toot! And they never came back.
Toot! Toot! And they never came back again.
But, as your reporter on the scene as the train of your doom, your Doom Train. rushes to that empty space where a trestle should be, I still cannot see the scene clearly enough to know the date and time the choo-choo train goes plummet, plummet, plummet.
Toot! Toot! And they never came back.
Estimating as best I can through the fog and the gloom, I think the Republican American Fascist choo-choo train will have gone off the trestle by August 8, this year.
That is, when we Time Travelers look at the train as it is then--on August 8--it is nought but twisted metal and escaping steam, and the weeping of American eyes and the gnashing of American teeth.
My Time Travel might not be perfect, but I am the only Time Traveler you've got--and then again, my Time Travel might be perfect and I have already seen the Republican American Fascists choo-choo-training you into your graves.
Toot! Toot! And they never came back.
Since it seems possible I will lose my Internet connection before the end of July, and since I don't know when or if I will have it again, I thought I might begin to review some of the basic aspects of this work I do.
My God-given task, given in 1963, is to "Write The Obituary of the World".
As much as I might have liked it to have been, "Pluck the Head of the Human Race Out of Its Ass", that was not my commission; and try though I might to get my news through in time, there seems to be not much chance of my doing that either.
Perhaps "in time" is no longer in the human equation, and that is why all my efforts fail.
I was presented with my commission to write The Obituary of the World not as a seminary student but as a young American journalist living in Japan; so therefore my approach to writing The Obituary of the World is through observing and reporting, not through interpretation of Scriptures.
For that matter, that is my approach to God as well.
There were things God liked about me when God chose me for this job, things that might surprise you who quake in your dirty britches before the Throne of God; and those of you who think you know God so smugly well.
One of the things God liked about me was that I had left the Roman Catholic Church of my childhood before I was ten years old, which takes some moral balls and common sense.
In a sense I was doing the same dance Martin Luther had danced some 500 years earlier, but I had never heard of Martin Luther so it was a new dance to me.
My critical analysis of Roman Catholicism came when I was about eight years old, and my parents were divorcing; and within the Roman Catholic Church's interpretation of God the Father, the parent who died first would lose his or her soul, no doubt, guaranteed.
I was only eight but I knew God better than that.
Divorce among Catholics being so common these days, perhaps the Roman Catholic Church has had to modify its doctrine, which at time implied both a villainy and a stupidity within God which I knew did not exist.
So, in my little boy's mind and language I said, This interpretation of God's Law is wrong. That was scary for me to say, even to myself, because it had been drummed into me that the only way to God was through the Roman Catholic Church.
Hell, I was only a kid and I knew God better than that.
Toot! Toot! And they never came back.
Consider the obscene logic of a priest telling a little boy one of his beloved parents--the one who died first--would be damned forever because of the divorce. The second to die, however, would then be legally "widowed", not divorced, and a quick trip to the confessional would make it all better.
I was a good little boy, I did not use the word "bullshit", but that's what I saw coming out of that priest's mouth.
It took me until I was about 18 to finally break all the threads of Roman Catholic rituals and fears which imprisoned me; but though I stopped going to church of any kind, I did not stop understanding God.
Toot! Toot! And they never came back.
I rarely talk about things God likes about me. People are mean enough to me because of the Coat of Many Colors God gave me, better not go name-dropping God around polite American society.
I am leading up to telling you something my Old Pal God likes about me which you Christians and you Jews might not understand.
If you have trouble finding things you like about me, this is something God likes about me, so try it on for size if you dare.
At a certain point in my first battle in Vietnam I became terrified. That point was when a wounded Marine started screaming and there was nothing the corpsman could do, not enough needles full of anti-pain juice to inject into him to stop his screaming.
Simply stated, I was prepared to die but not to be in that much pain; and the thought crossed my mind, as I lay there on a Vietnamese grave listening to mortar rounds leaving the tube not 30 yards away, going up and coming down, coming my way; I asked myself if I should pray.
"No," I decided, "God would think me chickenshit if I prayed now".
God liked that. Go figure.
And God likes when I do battle against that American Gordian Knot, that fine interweaving of stupidity and evil of which America is made.
"... so therefore my approach to writing The Obituary of the World is through observing and reporting, not through interpretation of Scriptures."
This approach has kept me ahead on the Planetary Crisis Story since 1963, so when I say this Earth will be dead by 2065 I have a solid track record of accuracy leading up to that statement.
I find it is my accuracy, demonstrated time and again, that the American people and system are afraid of; as if in preventing my voice from describing what I have seen, that will mean what has been seen has not been seen.
These Americans, they are like children hiding under their blankets as fire rages around them, as fire seeks them out.
It is not my saying it that makes it happen; it is the censorship of what I am saying that insures it will happen.
Once I was standing at a bus stop just off Market Street in San Francisco and I saw a young woman just about to unwittingly step in front of a bus, to likely have been killed, the children she is mother of today likely never to have been born, and I yelled out to her very loud, "Watch out!", and she lived to tell the tale; and I realized God had just given me a great gift, far greater, than I had given her.
Now, if after my having shouted that out a policeman had came along and arrested me for yelling too loud, we would have a good microcosmic parallel to what America did to me for becoming audibly telepathic.
It was in my ability to warn; God had given me my telepathic voice to
warn with; but the pleasure the Americans derived from inflicting pain on me was always more valuable to them than any warning I might be bringing.
One problem with torture is that it is so much fun to do; and addictive.
In God's Space War that vulnerable-to-torture aspect of my becoming audibly telepathic is called "The Litmus Paper Ambush", pretty close in meaning to Jesus' telling us to know people by their works.
I am the Litmus Paper (Light Mouse Paper in God's Space War encoding), and in that metaphor I was sent to test the atmosphere the spirit of human race creates--I mean here the spiritual impact of all the Human Souls together.
Imagine, what a concept, guilty passengers aboard their own Doom Train. A classic God's Space War maneuver.
Tatoo, Part 40
Toot! Toot! And they never came back!
To be Continued
Meanwhile, the United States of America, about to sacrifice its existence in support Israel's Victim Fascism, passed through the 187th day of its last year.
posted by Virgil Kret at 6:16 PM
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