Archive for the ‘FISA’ Category
Posted by jeremiasx on June 10, 2012
The cell phone was the key element of the plan. It was the silent witness to all of it. Misdirection and illusion. Remember that. Always.
I walked out of the adult novelty store and cut a few blocks over to the targeted hotel, walked in the front door. I took off my coat and dropped it at the security station, then walked briskly out the front door despite the puzzled inquiry from the security drone, ducked down an alley.
Inside the security team and their government counterparts would be puzzling over the coat and it’s total contents. A well-made mock up of a ceramic gun which was really just a modified toy from Wal-Mart bought for ten dollars. A note that said, “BANG YOU DEAD. By the time you read this you’ve already been paying attention to the wrong plot for a week too long. Nice to meet ya. Srsly tho you fags suck.”
Moving through the alley I quickly jerked the wig and prosthetic makeup from my face and stuffed them in a black garbage bag along with my outer set of clothes. I tied it to my belt. Now dressed in jogging shorts and a plain Old Navy tee shirt I hopped up to a fire escape on the adjoining building and ascended to the third-floor vacant apartment that had been quietly rented out by a nonexistent tenant months in advance. The place was pretty nice, but I wouldn’t have time to enjoy the sparsely decorated vacant pad for more than a minute. I found the bug-out bag in the hall closet and dumped it’s contents. A wallet full of cash, passport, new documentation. Yet another set of casual clothes, all black, and a new wig and black ball cap. A black form-fitting latex mask. I’d only need those for five more minutes, then the next set of clothes which were a bit more refined and therefore less noticeable on this side of town. The change took me under three minutes, but the shave and haircut took a few more. I had plenty of practice buzzing my do in the Army in a hurry for inspections.
After securing all the old gear, hair, and trash in a metal trash bin in the kitchen I dumped a handy bottle of acid from the bag over all of it, thereby destroying all associated DNA. After checking my personal smartphone to be sure it had all the necessary encryption software installed and functioned properly, as well as being fully charged, I dumped the silent witness into the acid bin with the rest of the evidence. Sure, you can have it. Good luck getting anything out of it.
One more trip to the hall closet and I was set. I picked up the crossbow with an attached coil of nylon rope and cocked the lever. I walked to the north face window and found it open as planned. A cool breeze was welcome after all the sweat I’d built up in the last few minutes. I found my target one floor down and far left across the street and fired. Bullseye. After securing the handle to the zipline I checked the street to be sure I wouldn’t hurt anyone and tossed out about half a dozen smoke grenades. Smoke filled the avenue and horns began to blare and the sounds of shock and awe rose toward me, along with so much smoke that Cheech and Chong couldn’t have determined what the hell was going on. Perfect. I perched on the ledge, said a silent prayer to Ceiling Cat, and flew across to the next secure location, the apartment above a posh downtown eatery.
As soon as I flew into the window I quickly slashed the zipline and tossed it, along with the anchoring bolt, as far back to my left and across the street as I could. I heard it ping off the news stand pretty much below the apartment I’d just left. Good enough. I added the layer of designer clothes over my black ones and made my way to the bathroom. An exposed hole in the flooring revealed the wet wall that would allow me access into the bathroom of Chez Henri via the extensive network of sewage and vent pipes. Fortunately these looked to have all been changed out within the last few years to keep up with changing building codes. Fairly clean, and again, good enough. After dropping into the hole I pulled the red rope that pulled the missing tile on a pulley back across over my head and concealed, at least temporarily, my escape route. A similar secret door allowed me entrance to the handicapped stall in the restaurant where I repeated the same process.
I looked out beneath the stall doors and didn’t see any feet. That was a bonus. Checking my phone and feeds, it appeared everyone had perfectly performed their assigned tasks. I’m a cog in a big wheel, and we’re rolling over and through this bullshit society. A quick view in the bathroom mirror allowed me to fix my hair after ditching the ball cap and latex mask in the wastepaper bin on the wall by the hand dryer. I stuffed in extra wet ones on top just to be on the safe side. I pulled the lint roller from my pocket and got the wall insulation off my clothes. Rolled it in a paper towel with my latex fingerpads (complete with fake prints) and stuffed them in the bin. I’d been wearing the same one for months. Time for new ones. I walked out to a table of old friends waiting for me with a nice spread of food and wine on a white tablecloth.
“Hey kids. You’re looking good, but the food looks better. Sheila you’re more stunning in Barbie doll attire than I would have guessed. Darren, you look better without all the fake blood on you, ya fuckin chomo. No homo, man.”
“Well I must say,” Darren quickly replied, “you look better clean-cut and proper than as a hippie fucktard any day.”
“Just don’t ask me if you can smoke in here. I hate cigarettes, especially at dinner. I’m still not eating anything but the veggies. You guys eat carcass if you want. It’s your body, you live with it. Fags.” That’s my girl.
Alex looked around to be sure we were mostly alone, and raised his glass. The English accent was real, and always came in handy for phone ops even though he’d lived in the States most of his life. “All objectives were completed, we have identified the agent provocateurs and their associates. Our next cruise will be smoother sailing, but I get the feeling the rest of their lives in the undercover business are pretty much over. I hear they all have Facebook pages and Twitter accounts that proclaim their greatness in law enforcement skullfuckery as well as displaying their taste in illegal internet porn to the world. Their bosses may understand, but their wives might not. Tonight we dine with our extended family in France. Cheers!”
We toasted to Us. We toasted to being smarter, not harder. We toasted to the win. In the end, it was simply for the lulz. Next time…maybe not so much. C’est la vie.
Posted in Activism, America, Anonymous, Bizarre, CIA, Civil Rights, Comedy, Conspiracy, Conspiracy Theories, Democracy, Dissent, Education, Fiction, FISA, Freedom, Funny, Human Rights, Justice, Law, Law Enforcement, Liberty, Opinion, Patriotism, Peace, Politics, Protest, Random, Resistance, Revolution, Sex, Society, Terrorism, Tyranny, Uncategorized, War, Weird | Tagged: Anonymous, Bacon, Dissent, Fiction, Literature, Politics, Resistance, revolution, Tech, Weird | Leave a Comment »
Posted by jeremiasx on January 7, 2008
I found this over on Digg posted by “VoteRonPaul” a bit ago…they (FOX NEWS) are SO BUSTED. Watch it! Sorry for all the tags…but hey…I want maximum exposure and PLEASE REPOST this FAR AND WIDE. OH YEA, DROP FOX NEWS FROM YOUR CABLE SERVICE…it’s time they pay for this masquerade as a “fair and balanced” news program. I hear their stock is dropping anyhow. Might as well throw some well-deserved salt on an open wound while we’re at it, right?
Posted in 9/11 Truth, Activism, Al Qaeda, America, Ann Coulter, Arkansas, Bill O'Reilly, Bizarre, Brit Hume, Censorship, Cheney, CIA, Civil Rights, Comedy, Conspiracy, Conspiracy Theories, Democracy, Dissent, Economy, Education, Energy, Environment, Federal Reserve, Finance, FISA, Florida, Football, Fox News, Freedom, Freemasons, Funny, George Bush, Global Warming, GOP, Health Care, Hillary Clinton, Human Rights, Immigration, Impeachment, Investing, Iran, Iraq, Israel, Journalism, Justice, Karl Rove, Law, Law Enforcement, Liberty, Life, Masons, Media, Medicine, Military, Money, Music, Myanmar, MySpace, NAACP, New Hampshire, New York, News, Newton County, NSA Wiretapping Scandal, NYC, Opinion, Pakistan, Patriotism, Peace, Politics, Poverty, Prophecy, Protest, Psychology, Race, Rainbow Family, Random, REAL ID, Religion, Republicans, Resistance, Revelations, Revolution, Ron Paul, Science, Society, Sports, Stock Market, Technology, Television, Terrorism, Turkey, TV, Tyranny, Uncategorized, Unexplained, US Attorneys, US Attorneys Scandal, Wall Street, War, War on Drugs, War on Terror, Weird, WTC | 2 Comments »
Posted by jeremiasx on October 14, 2007
My third day in DC began upon awakening at my new friend’s apartment in Arlington…then a mighty breakfast at a local establishment that helped me to remember fondly the days of truck stop food…you know, the typical greasy spoon stuff. It was awesome.
I wore my new “Arrest Bush” t-shirt for the day of the big march, and I got appreciative looks from nearly everyone I passed. It’s got the Articles of Impeachment on the back.
Pretty nifty…I’ll link you to Laurie’s group on that…if you want to get one. Suggested donations are like ten apiece (but more if you can, less if you can’t)…a pittance for such a fine article of clothing. Here I am pimping mine in DC…showing the DC cops where the real criminal lives…this was from the day of the protest, incidentally.
I think I had my eyes closed but I just pointed to the stench that was emanating from the address at 1600 Pennsylvania…oh yea, there was a HUGE pile of horse shit on the front lawn that day. Not sure why. Anyhow…
When we were trying to find a parking place we drove by the counter-protest assembling under a spotty stream (not sea) of American flags and occasional Vietnam vet bikers…gathering to pump themselves up for what was one of the most lopsided responses to a peace march I think that’s ever been shamefully presented as a “counter” to our massive effort there on 9/15. It seemed pretty corny from a distance, and it got even sillier face to face with those people, believe me.
Lafayette Square was already crowded an hour before the march was scheduled to start…people from all walks of life, all economic backgrounds, all cultural and racial heritages…so many people. Thousands…and all there to promote the cause of peace. I was impressed, to say the least. The largest gathering I’d been to recently that could hold a candle to it was the Rainbow Gathering in Fallsville, Arkansas, right down from my house.
This crowd was a bit more diverse, to be honest…there weren’t just typical “peaceniks and hippies.” There were students, teachers, artists, lawyers, soldiers, veterans, and political figures. Nader was there…so was Sheehan…others whose names I have unfortunately forgotten but who gave very passionate addresses. I continued strolling along with the sea of people along the natural paths, the sidewalks, checking out the different groups represented, the different causes being promoted…everything from vegan living to impeachment (this one was a nearly universal theme) to freeing the Jena Six (that march would happen a week or two after this one) and anything else in between.
There was a young man pogo sticking for peace (said so on his T-shirt, even) an old man dressed as Santa, on stilts, with a sign reading “Troops Home By Xmas”…a group of anarchist cheerleaders…a LARGE contingent from the Georgetown Law School…several hundred, I believe…and many others.
I spent a lot of my time hanging out with “Start Loving” and Patricia (my photographer lady friend I had pizza with the night before, and she had of course remembered to charge my batteries at her hotel room overnight, a BIG HELP) and we talked about how wonderful it was that all of us were able to be witness and participate in such an historic event. We all feel that this is the real beginning of a stronger popular movement towards peace and justice. Time will be the judge on that, of course.
One event that moved me directly to tears was the display of a rolling flag-draped coffin…with a sad looking man leaning on it and a street poet piping up a terrible tale of sorrow and anguish…and rage. The words he spoke chilled me to my soul and I wept throughout the experience. It was very moving for me.
Read the story of Carlos Arredondo, “Man on Fire.”
It was during my time with Patricia and Start that i remembered I was to meet Thomas, the man who had begun a 24/7 vigil for peace and nuclear disarmament all the way back in 1981…and I found the courage to make my way over to his vigil site and introduce myself and my point of view. He was pretty receptive, and then instructive, and I found our stories had many similarities, especially as it regarded a walk of faith and the power of belief and the ability to see God’s will at work all around us regardless of where we were physically…and that’s a great place to be sometimes.
I found out he would not be able to join us during our march on the Capitol Building…he can’t leave his protest camp for even five minutes, or the DC park police will tear down his displays, signs, tent and everything else and he’ll never be able to return to his state of grace he operates under now due to being grandfathered in, so to speak, regarding laws on static protests. He and his wife Concepcion have pretty much run the thing for 26 years now, with the help of different volunteers…but it’s mostly their protest, anyone else involved was quick to tell me. They are the heart and soul of it. I will talk about Thomas again in Part 5.
I was also pleased to see a large contingent of 9/11 Truth activists present and waving their signs and being outspoken on bullhorns…I was also happy to see that the majority of folks there in the square didn’t think they were “crazy” or “disruptive” either…I think the VAST MAJORITY of America knows the facts are far from known concerning that terrible day. I’m still amazed at the general apathy and level of brainwashing that has obviously taken place within our collective psyche to keep us from being so outraged (as a society) that we have been lied to about the deaths of 3,000 of our fellow citizens and we haven’t DONE ANYTHING ABOUT IT…anyhow. I digress.
The time for the march was at hand…the student group from Georgetown and the ANSWER coalition got the crowd moving that direction…and then there was some general confusion with the marshals and the participants about the order…mostly just that we needed to let the Iraq Vets Against The War go up front…
and I think that was appropriate….but anyhow off we went down the street towards the Capitol Building…I don’t know how many of us, but there were a bunch. I tried to find places that I could get up to to get a nice bird’s eye view shot of the action, but found my progress impeded by DC cops posted at the stairwells of (normally) public buildings, not allowing access for any purpose, including taking photos. I had to mention this seemed highly irregular to the lady officer who told me I couldn’t go up a public stairwell…she didn’t seem concerned. I asked her if it was routine policy for the DC cops to make up the rules as they went…and I pointed out the police photographer rapidly snapping shots from this same vantage point I wanted access to. Well, by this time a reporter was there and filming so I went the whole nine and asked her how it felt to work for a fascist dictator (all DC capitol police are uniformed Secret Service…) and she REALLY didn’t seem to like that. I felt bad, for about five seconds. I walked on. I finally settled for a giant concrete planter…you know, the kind with flowers and stuff in them along the sidewalk in some of the DC parks. Here’s what I got.
More To Follow In Part 5, Check The Archive For Past Posts:
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Photo Essay
Posted in 9/11, 9/11 Truth, Activism, Al Qaeda, America, Arkansas, Censorship, Cheney, CIA, Civil Rights, Comedy, Conspiracy, Conspiracy Theories, Democrats, Dissent, Economy, Education, FISA, Fox News, Freedom, Freemasons, George Bush, GOP, Hillary Clinton, Hillbilly, Hitchhiking To DC, Homeless, Human Rights, Impeachment, Iran, Iraq, Israel, Journalism, Justice, Law, Law Enforcement, Liberty, Life, Masons, Media, Military, Myanmar, News, Newton County, NSA Wiretapping Scandal, Opinion, Patriotism, Peace, Poetry, Politics, Poverty, Prophecy, Protest, Random, REAL ID, Religion, Republicans, Resistance, Revelations, Revolution, Ron Paul, Society, Television, Terrorism, TV, Tyranny, Uncategorized, Unexplained, US Attorneys, War, WTC | 1 Comment »
Posted by jeremiasx on October 14, 2007
Yes Bush…the man whom God delivers the sneak preview of the coming Armageddon and rapture, the man tasked to bring about the changes in laws and policies to allow for the coming Tim LeHaye styled one-world dictatorship, and Bush had the amazing foresight to ask telecoms to wiretap ordinary Americans without wiretaps several months BEFORE the event that he has since used as his reason for the program. Uncanny…kind of like the BBC reporting that WTC 7 collapsed twenty minutes early. The whole business is just unraveling now, isn’t it?
Gosh…how did Georgie have the AMAZING powers of extra-sensory perception to know that he’d need to circumvent typical procedures and constitutional safeguards in retaliation for an event that hadn’t even HAPPENED YET? Hmm.
Qwest Feared NSA Plan Was Illegal, Filing Says
By Ellen Nakashima and Dan Eggen
Washington Post Staff Writers
Saturday, October 13, 2007; Page A01
A former Qwest Communications International executive, appealing a conviction for insider trading, has alleged that the government withdrew opportunities for contracts worth hundreds of millions of dollars after Qwest refused to participate in an unidentified National Security Agency program that the company thought might be illegal.
Former chief executive Joseph P. Nacchio, convicted in April of 19 counts of insider trading, said the NSA approached Qwest more than six months before the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks, according to court documents unsealed in Denver this week.
Details about the alleged NSA program have been redacted from the documents, but Nacchio’s lawyer said last year that the NSA had approached the company about participating in a warrantless surveillance program to gather information about Americans’ phone records.In the court filings disclosed this week, Nacchio suggests that Qwest’s refusal to take part in that program led the government to cancel a separate, lucrative contract with the NSA in retribution. He is using the allegation to try to show why his stock sale should not have been considered improper.
Nacchio was convicted for selling shares of Qwest stock in early 2001, just before financial problems caused the company’s share price to tumble. He has claimed in court papers that he had been optimistic that Qwest would overcome weak sales because of the expected top-secret contract with the government. Nacchio said he was forbidden to mention the specifics during the trial because of secrecy restrictions, but the judge ruled that the issue was irrelevant to the charges against him.
Nacchio’s account, which places the NSA proposal at a meeting on Feb. 27, 2001, suggests that the Bush administration was seeking to enlist telecommunications firms in programs without court oversight before the terrorist attacks on New York and the Pentagon. The Sept. 11 attacks have been cited by the government as the main impetus for its warrantless surveillance efforts.
The allegations could affect the debate on Capitol Hill over whether telecoms sued for disclosing customers’ phone records and other data to the government after the Sept. 11 attacks should be given legal immunity, even if they did not have court authorization to do so.
Spokesmen for the Justice Department, the NSA, the White House and the director of national intelligence declined to comment, citing the ongoing legal case against Nacchio and the classified nature of the NSA’s activities. Federal filings in the appeal have not yet been disclosed.
In May 2006, USA Today reported that the NSA had been secretly collecting the phone-call records of tens of millions of Americans, using data provided by major telecom firms. Qwest, it reported, declined to participate because of fears that the program lacked legal standing.
In a statement released after the story was published, Nacchio attorney Herbert Stern said that in fall 2001, Qwest was approached to give the government access to the private phone records of Qwest customers. At the time, Nacchio was chairman of the president’s National Security Telecommunications Advisory Committee.
“Mr. Nacchio made inquiry as to whether a warrant or other legal process had been secured in support of that request,” Stern said. “When he learned that no such authority had been granted and that there was a disinclination on the part of the authorities to use any legal process, including the Special Court which had been established to handle such matters, Mr. Nacchio concluded that these requests violated the privacy requirements of the Telecommunications Act.”
Posted in 9/11, 9/11 Truth, Activism, Al Qaeda, America, Antichrist, Arkansas, Astrology, Bizarre, Censorship, Cheney, CIA, Civil Rights, Comedy, Conspiracy, Conspiracy Theories, Democrats, Dissent, Education, FISA, Fox News, Freedom, Freemasons, George Bush, GOP, Hillary Clinton, Human Rights, Impeachment, Iran, Iraq, Israel, Journalism, Justice, Law, Law Enforcement, Liberty, Life, Masons, Media, Military, News, Newton County, NSA Wiretapping Scandal, Opinion, Patriotism, Peace, Politics, Prophecy, Protest, Random, REAL ID, Religion, Republicans, Resistance, Revelations, Revolution, Ron Paul, Society, Television, Terrorism, TV, Tyranny, Uncategorized, Unexplained, US Attorneys, US Attorneys Scandal, War, Weird, WTC | 3 Comments »
Posted by jeremiasx on October 3, 2007
(Photo By JeremiasX…The Local Filling Station)
And these folks are slinging it around in the year 2007? Hmm…I wonder what would cause people to say such things. (Not really.)
Full Article Available From Yahoo News:
CHATTANOOGA, Tenn. – In an unlikely marriage of desire to secede from the United States, two advocacy groups from opposite political traditions — New England and the South — are sitting down to talk.
Tired of foreign wars and what they consider right-wing courts, the Middlebury Institute wants liberal states like Vermont to be able to secede peacefully.
That sounds just fine to the League of the South, a conservative group that refuses to give up on Southern independence.
“We believe that an independent South, or Hawaii, Alaska, or Vermont would be better able to serve the interest of everybody, regardless of race or ethnicity,” said Michael Hill of Killen, Ala., president of the League of the South.
Separated by hundreds of miles and divergent political philosophies, the Middlebury Institute and the League of the South are hosting a two-day Secessionist Convention starting Wednesday in Chattanooga.
They expect to attract supporters from California, Alaska and Hawaii, inviting anyone who wants to dissolve the Union so states can save themselves from an overbearing federal government.
If allowed to go their own way, New Englanders “probably would allow abortion and have gun control,” Hill said, while Southerners “would probably crack down on illegal immigration harder than it is being now.”
The U.S. Constitution does not explicitly prohibit secession, but few people think it is politically viable.
Vermont, one of the nation’s most liberal states, has become a hotbed for liberal secessionists, a fringe movement that gained new traction because of the Iraq war, rising oil prices and the formation of several pro-secession groups.
Thomas Naylor, the founder of one of those groups, the Second Vermont Republic, said the friendly relationship with the League of the South doesn’t mean everyone shares all the same beliefs.
But Naylor, a retired Duke University professor, said the League of the South shares his group’s opposition to the federal government and the need to pursue secession.
“It doesn’t matter if our next president is Condoleeza (Rice) or Hillary (Clinton), it is going to be grim,” said Naylor, adding that there are secessionist movements in more than 25 states, including Hawaii, Alaska, New Hampshire, South Carolina and Texas.
Posted in 9/11, 9/11 Truth, Activism, America, Censorship, Cheney, CIA, Civil Rights, Comedy, Conspiracy, Conspiracy Theories, Democrats, Dissent, Economy, Education, Environment, Federal Reserve, FISA, Fox News, Freedom, Freemasons, GOP, Hillary Clinton, Human Rights, Immigration, Impeachment, Iran, Iraq, Israel, Journalism, Justice, Law, Law Enforcement, Liberty, Life, Masons, Media, Medicine, Military, Money, Music, Newton County, Opinion, Outdoors, Patriotism, Peace, Politics, Poverty, Prophecy, Protest, Random, REAL ID, Religion, Republicans, Resistance, Revelations, Revolution, Ron Paul, Society, Technology, Television, Terrorism, TV, Tyranny, Uncategorized, Unexplained, US Attorneys Scandal, Wall Street, War, War on Drugs, Weird, WTC | Leave a Comment »
Posted by jeremiasx on October 1, 2007
The wifey found the scorch patterns to be fascinating…so do I…she also pointed out stuff that one might think SHOULD be burned (trees, etc.) were not. That wouldn’t follow with the types of internal fires or even LONG LASTING fire exposure that “took these buildings down.”
Anyhow, a friend who was there that day in NYC passed this on to me. Not many folks have seen this photo yet, at least I’ve never seen it…but tell me what YOU think, friends, and feel free to “pass it on.”
Posted in 9/11, 9/11 Truth, Activism, Al Qaeda, America, Antichrist, Arkansas, Bizarre, Censorship, Cheney, CIA, Civil Rights, Comedy, Conspiracy, Democrats, Dissent, Economy, Education, Federal Reserve, Finance, FISA, Freedom, Freemasons, George Bush, GOP, Hillary Clinton, Human Rights, Impeachment, Iran, Iraq, Israel, Journalism, Justice, Law, Law Enforcement, Liberty, Life, Masons, Media, Military, Money, New York, News, Newton County, NYC, Opinion, Patriotism, Peace, Politics, Prophecy, Protest, Random, Religion, Republicans, Resistance, Revelations, Revolution, Ron Paul, Society, Technology, Television, Terrorism, TV, Tyranny, Uncategorized, Unexplained, War, Weird, WTC | 2 Comments »
Posted by jeremiasx on October 1, 2007
In a quick wrap…I caught the last few minutes of the game, and I haven’t watched football since the Dallas Cowboys were America’s team…but I was bored and eating pizza and had a few home brews earlier…so it seemed appropriate.
Here it is, in a nutshell.
The EAGLES quarterback went over the line, though only a little most folks might say…but over nonetheless. The touchdown that could have signaled a glimmer of hope was taken off the board…but there was one more crucial down for the team, but Justice failed them by an illegal move while trying to block for the quarterback…and the Empire State was basically able to run down the clock on the City of Brotherly Love…
Oh well…I’m bored with football again…and a shame. I used to LOVE to play…my team in high school went the farthest our town ever has in over 30 years all the way to the “big game” – at War Memorial Stadium in Little Rock.
Posted in 9/11, 9/11 Truth, Activism, Al Qaeda, America, Amnesty, Antichrist, Arkansas, Astrology, Bizarre, Censorship, CIA, Civil Rights, Comedy, Conspiracy, Conspiracy Theories, Dissent, Eagles, Ed Brown, Education, Environment, Federal Reserve, Finance, FISA, Florida, Football, Fox News, Freedom, Freemasons, George Bush, Giants, Global Warming, GOP, Health Care, Hillary Clinton, Hillbilly, Hitchhiking To DC, Homeless, Human Rights, Impeachment, Investing, Iran, Iraq, Israel, Journalism, Justice, Karl Rove, Law, Law Enforcement, Liberty, Life, Masons, Media, Medicine, Military, Money, NAACP, New York, News, Newton County, NYC, Opinion, Patriotism, Peace, Pennsylvania, Poetry, Politics, Poverty, Prophecy, Protest, Rainbow Family, Random, REAL ID, Religion, Republicans, Resistance, Revelations, Revolution, Ron Paul, Society, Sports, Stock Market, Technology, Television, Terrorism, TV, Tyranny, Uncategorized, Unexplained, US Attorneys, US Attorneys Scandal, US Forestry Service, Wall Street, War, War on Drugs, Weird, WTC | Leave a Comment »
Posted by jeremiasx on September 28, 2007
If this is a hoax the persons responsible should be prosecuted…however, due to the nature of the crimes discussed in this video and the obvious nature of how powerful the conspirators involved would have to be by default, if there IS CERTAINLY a conspiracy here and not just a theory…
I would suggest as a reasonable and relatively sane person that the witness (Barry) should be taken into protective custody (but not by the government) and available for an internet video deposition (or other format required to give to a federal grand jury) by an independent special prosecutor who would have to be appointed by the full House, to keep it real. That special prosecutor would have to be confirmed by the Senate. Only a man of the highest integrity could be considered…I’d start by eliminating any lawyer from the Justice Department. It’s obviously infected with partisan decay.
So…If there is a prosecutor, police officer, or person who believes in law and justice in this country who has an ounce of integrity within their being…they will not just overlook this video or the allegations of mass murder that the testimony IMPLIES. This MUST be investigated.
Posted in 9/11, 9/11 Truth, Activism, Al Qaeda, America, Antichrist, Arkansas, Astrology, Bizarre, Censorship, Cheney, CIA, Civil Rights, Comedy, Conspiracy, Conspiracy Theories, Democrats, Dissent, Drugs, Economy, Ed Brown, Education, Energy, Environment, Federal Reserve, FISA, Florida, Fox News, Freedom, Freemasons, George Bush, GOP, Health Care, Hillary Clinton, Human Rights, Impeachment, Iran, Iraq, Israel, Journalism, Justice, Law, Law Enforcement, Liberty, Life, Masons, Media, Medicine, Military, Money, Music, New York, News, Newton County, NSA Wiretapping Scandal, NYC, Opinion, Patriotism, Peace, Politics, Poverty, Prophecy, Protest, Rainbow Family, Random, REAL ID, Religion, Republicans, Revelations, Revolution, Ron Paul, Society, Stock Market, Technology, Television, TV, Tyranny, Uncategorized, Unexplained, US Attorneys, US Attorneys Scandal, Wall Street, War, Weird, WTC | 2 Comments »
Posted by jeremiasx on September 28, 2007
My fourth day began in the pre-dawn hours on a park bench in front of the church that George Bush attends about once a month, from most local accounts. It wasn’t the coziest sleeping place in the world, but it certainly allowed me some time to close my eyes and reflect upon my time walking in front of the White House.
I wouldn’t call what I did on that 4-foot bench technically “sleeping.” I’d say it’s about the same type of sleep one usually gets in a forward fighting position or perhaps a deer stand on a blustery fall morning, troubled and uncomfortable. Any type of bed would be preferable, but I reminded myself that many people (including the six men there besides myself…I assumed from their level of familiarity with this courtyard and each other) well…they sleep outdoors MOST nights. I caught a wink or two. I needed it.
Giving in to the beckoning of the golden arches, I slipped into Mickey D’s (on New York and 12th?) to change my underwear, clean my face and hands, and enjoy a little greasy city slicker breakfast food. It sure wasn’t breakfast in bed with my lovely wife, no bacon and eggs with homemade biscuits and jelly to speak of. One makes do with what’s available at the time, though, I suppose…I made the most of the free refills in my small drink cup thankful for the Powerade on tap to get me hydrated for the coming day.
The majority of this day was spent exploring the DC midtown, speaking with locals and travelers, and handling my personal hygiene and dirty laundry…I had a little help in these noble but mundane endeavors. After stopping in at this place for directions and at the local valley for a refreshing shower and very pleasant chat with the secretary and steward…
…I felt refreshed and even human again…and then left those magnificent places and I traveled further West into the Latino neighborhood not too far away to do my laundry at a local lavenderia…the locals who had been maintaining the temple grounds were happy to walk me halfway there. Muchas Gracias, Muchachos!
They pointed me to a really nice little joint that had clean machines in good repair, and an owner who I believe was an African Muslim because when I put on a clean T-shirt that had Farsi on it, he seemed quite thrilled and beamed a smile at me…he checked on me several times to make sure my experience in his establishment was a great one. I love it when people run a business with pride. This man had it in spades. Unfortunately, he had to point out to me after I spent more than one quarter drying my socks that I had it set on “fluff.” Oops.
I strapped my sign to my backpack again (I had to take it on and off any time I needed anything out, but fortunately I’m not that finicky with my gear) and walked back to the White House through an Arabic neighborhood, and I think most people there all were quite receptive to “the message.” Smiles and good-natured nods abounded.
I finally made it back to the White House north lawn and joined my new friends and sisters Patricia and Laurie (who gave me the two excellent black t-shirts you’ll see me wearing in various photos here, check out some of her fine work here) in a small ad hoc protest and show of solidarity between ourselves and another man who drove the magic bus all the way from San Fransisco for the march. We were all excited about it and hoped for a good turnout.
Patricia is a professional photographer and I’m going to go ahead and use this wonderful photo she took that afternoon in this very blog, with full acknowledgment and humble gratitude, and I’d suggest that each and every one of you check out her other art at her website.
After a few hours of enjoying smiles (mostly) and occasional mindless rhetoric (VERY rarely…maybe once or twice over a period of several hours and several hundred visitors) from O’Reilly-Rush-Hannity automatons we were pretty Bushed for the afternoon. Even though the chickenhawks proliferate on the internet they seem a bit sparse in reality. They also seemed to be hesitant to talk their typical loud-mouth bullshit in person.
Most NORMAL folks seemed just fine with us being there and asked us questions and we were happy to oblige them to photo sessions (especially the Japanese…ALL of them were happy to see our protest…or at least seemed to be…they were stereotypically wonderful shooting rounds and rounds of memento photos posing there with us, smiling, and throwing peace signs to us and each other.)
Patricia and I headed to a WONDERFUL little Italian restaurant where she most kindly treated me to pizza and salad. We had a deep and meaningful exchange of ideas and I think her dedication to her pet cause (avoiding war with Iran) is inspiring at the very least.
She will be seen at first by many passersby as a distinguished looking lady in a motorized wheelchair, but her level of integrity, truthfulness, and the beauty of her spirit elevated her in my mind…head and shoulders above the walking while slumbering public. She loaned me her poncho for the evening as it looked like it might rain and offered to charge my camera batteries at her hotel room so I’d have a fresh set for the protest.
I returned once more to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue and I found myself wondering more and more about the little white tent across the street with the signs and placards to each side. I’d passed by it more than once and had even been admonished by Start Loving to drop in there, but the man named Thomas had not been around during the first few days I was in town. I’d see his wife, Concepcion, and another man whose name I learned was Troy…but no Thomas, and that’s the man I was sent to talk to.
I decided to overcome my initial shyness and walked on over to check out and see what they were about. My curiosity got the best of me, and I fell into a bit of a rabbit hole.
A man sitting cross-legged and quiet as a monk caught in the midst of a moment of deep reflection sat there stroking a long and braided goatee (sp?) and being very neutral about his entire presence in such an austere location. This was, after all, 1601 Pennsylvania Avenue, the hottest piece of real estate in all of DC. (The sidewalk directly across the street from the White House, front and center.)
I asked him his name and introduced myself to him, and we proceeded from there to have one of the longest and most unusual conversations I’ve had in quite some time. It was the kind of conversation that I had hoped for the entire time I’d been in DC. I learned much during those hours. I’d learn so much more in the day to come.
At the end of the evening I was searching desperately for a payphone, as the ones in Lafayette Square are all disconnected. I guess they don’t want folks gabbing on the phone that close to the White House…maybe they think it’s tacky or something. Anyhow. I had to walk several blocks in the rain first to find a bathroom (it’s pretty tough living on the street, don’t ever fool yourself on this one…ever) and then to find that phone to call home and let the wife know everything was fine.
I literally checked a dozen donnikers (port-a-johns) and found no trace of toilet paper. I had left my pack at 1601 with Troy. I had nothing. I was desperate. I finally found a late-night Vietnamese joint and walked inside wondering what the toll would be. I quickly saw my opportunity in the drink case (can sodas with your noodles!) and bartered with the purchase of a V8 (about one federal reserve note) to gain admission into the mens’ room. All was well.
Upon returning to Lafayette’s square, I picked up my pack and walked over to the stage being set up for the ANSWER coalition event the next day, and I introduced myself to some young and seemingly nervous young folks who would be camping out on the stage…seemed like a groovy spot to me but their level of security was such that I couldn’t chill with them there.
I felt a bit sad as I was hoping to lend a hand and do some interviews in the process but I understood why they had fear…it was after dark…and most folks are shot through with it *fear* these days and who can blame them with the state of the world? Between the general uncertainties of life, the quiet and sometimes desperate struggle with the meaning of our own existence and trying to find our place in the universe and the rotten or nasty people and institutions in divers places…it *the world* certainly helps to perpetuate the phantasmal (mind) killer. *inhales sharply and exhales…run-on sentence*
I finally settled on a park bench in the farthest northwest corner. I tarried there for some time and was pleased to meet a few deaf students from the local school (Gaullatin) who were chilling there and having a few drinks whilst getting stoked to the gills about the march and rally to be held in this very place twelve hours later. For many of those gathered, including the organizers, aides, workers, and security it was their first major demonstration. I thought that was great. It was my first as well, and I just knew it would be fantastic.
Eventually the hours dwindled on and after wearing out my thumbs on these kids’ blackberry discussing patriotism, family issues, and life in general…a couple more young folks showed up with a man wearing a Che Gueverra shirt. Could be DC undercover, could be cool folks…but the Che shirt wasn’t really much of a shocker considering the event coming up. I put my “Papa Bear” Bill O’Reilly brainwashing aside for a moment, and I tried to make the angels of Ann Coulter and Anne Malkin on my shoulders be silent and to still my beating capitalist red-state redneck heart…and I met some of the coolest folks on my trip yet.
The man and his two sons were Puerto Rican (Americans) and fine exemplars of some of the finest and most refined lessons in humility, honor, duty, and charity that I encountered in my journey. To quote Pantera…”Is there no standard anymore?” The youngest son was mostly into video games and MMOs (like my misses) and it turned out the older brother supposedly has a forum staffed by those who are haters of his character in WoW…lolz…anyhow he is also a Staff Sergeant in the US Army…and his job is to bring the soldiers home from the war. The soldiers that J.P. brings home don’t get to be with their families any more in this world…he drives them in a horse-drawn carriage through Arlington cemetery to rest with the other unsung, mostly forgotten, and (to Bush and Cheney) seemingly disposable heroes…of this current travesty in the Middle East being waged under the banner of mealy-mouthed and Mickey Mouse imperialism that has produced the one positive effect of being a lesson in worst-case foreign policy and practices. Then there are those who pay in anguish every day.
Upon learning of my personal circumstances, they offered to allow me to share their dwelling and told me they’d take me out for breakfast at a swell joint down by Arlington. I was able to update some folks on the net and I must admit that J.P.’s setup is the uberbomb for gaming with a large flat screen for maximum optical enjoyment. I remember the cool toys I bought in the service. I still buy one every year or so now. I’ll confess, I’m a bit of a minimalist these days.
I slept like a baby on that hide-a-bed…and dreamed of freedom and justice.
***-end part 3 part 4 coming soon – check back and check my other posts. My archives are extensive and at your disposal. Education is freedom. Feel free to email me.
Part 1 Part 2 Photo Essay
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Posted by jeremiasx on September 24, 2007
My ride with the trucker named Dennis got me all the way to Rock Point, Maryland. After quickly ascertaining that trying to move about in the DC metro area by the thumb was a ludicrous and insanely futile prospect, I decided to check out the public transit system. The bus pulled into a large mall parking deck and I ran across the parking lot to catch it, pausing along the way to note a young Chinese kid on a double-length skateboard with in-line wheels…transportation evolves in some venues quicker than others.
I was delighted to find that my trip over to the rail station would cost under a dollar, and then further surprised to find that I could take the subway into the heart of DC for less than two bucks. The subway station was clean and so were the cars themselves, a far cry from the sinister zombie express that one sees in the horror flicks. I enjoyed the ride, which only took about fifteen minutes. I bet anyone driving would have taken an hour or more in serious traffic. Public transportation FTW.
I noticed upon disembarking at the Metro Center Station in DC proper that the entire station was plastered with a recurring theme of picture-ads…on the walls, the sides of the rails around the escalators, everywhere (even in the mens’ room I’m sure, though I was a little nervous of running into a Larry Craig or someone of their ilk in a public DC restroom upon first arrival.) Just kidding. A little.
The theme of the ads was surprisingly not for any corporate slogan for cola or some new wonder drug for the masses…well not exactly. The ads were for a group promoting the idea of universal health care access. The most noble campaign effort I’d seen in quite a while, especially on such a large scale.
I stepped out onto the DC sidewalk and was immediately struck by the prevalence of homeless people. Not just the obvious ones laid out with all their gear on park benches, but the much less obvious dirty and shady characters hanging in the shadows of the rail station entryway bumming cigarettes and change, the silent and sick ones who huddled in the alleyways cursing God and themselves, and the youngsters who still had the knack to hustle a buck and wear designer clothes that were impressive even if days unwashed.
I was able to head straight towards Capital Hill on the advice of the subway entry attendant, the public information officer or whatever…nice fellow. I paused at various places of interest for short periods to rest my blistered feet, drink water from the public fountains (which are abundant in DC) or even take pictures of things I thought were interesting, such as the blocked up entrance to the Department of Justice…no access there for sure these days.
By the time I reached Capital Hill my feet were really worn out, though I felt a new sense of purpose as I paused to remark with fellow tourists and travelers about the dismal state of the nation. I guess liberals hang out at the Capital reflecting pool like they supposedly do in the media…or whatever.
I caught a couple free t-shirts and made a new friend before I ever went up the steps. I made positive remarks on her “Arrest Bush” t-shirt and she asked me if I wanted one…I said sure, but I have no money for a donation because I hitchhiked up here and have limited funds which weren’t really set for buying souvenirs. She insisted I take two shirts nonetheless and affirmed her faith that others would give more to make up the difference. The second shirt has the motto “We Will Not Be Silent” in Farsi with English underneath, and is a message that alludes to the White Rose Society in the Nazi German era in which many Jews were speaking out against their perception that their race was being singled out for persecution unjustly. It alludes to a point in time when something could have still been done easily to avoid the rise of the powerful Nazi state that crushed this type of dissent in concentration camps with the silent murders of millions, once things had progressed to that point. The seeds of democracy and the seeds of tyranny are long planted in the heart of every state…
I was told to stop and visit with “Start Loving” at the Cannon Office Building, and I made my way over there under the watchful eyes of what seemed to by fifty or more Capital Police armed with everything from the walkie-talkie to fearsome looking riot-action shotguns…I bellowed out a happy Arkansas “howdy” to many of them and received an interesting variety of responses…which was typical of my entire visit, really.
Upon arriving at the Cannon Office Building, I encountered a sight that made my heart merry and sad at the same time. A man with three crosses tattooed across his forehead wearing placards saying “Don’t Bomb Iran” and “Hunger Strike”…
I sat down next to him and we had a wonderful conversation about the prospects of peace and the idea of self-denial as a means of focus in the quest for self-actualization and attainment of a higher understanding of spiritual purity. It was apparent to me even after a few minutes that this man was operating on a much higher level of faith than I, and I had thought myself to on solid ground as it were already. For instance, the three crosses on his forehead comprise what he understands to be the name of God…love…the middle cross says “Start Loving” and he has adopted that as his name of preference. He will factor into the story again later. I sat there and shared my experiences with the world and we laughed and wept together for some time. On one note we did have occasion to disagree…I told him of my plans to talk to the people there in DC and around the country, and he admonished that I temper my righteous anger with peace and love. I reminded him that in one of my favorite New Testament stories, Jesus sat down on the temple steps and braided a whip to drive out the money changers and those who defiled the place and works of God. We acknowledged that the Divine does work it’s wonders in manners both creative and destructive. We parted agreeing in solidarity that peace was the best cause worth pursuing as an extension of love, which is God. “How good and pleasant it is when brothers can dwell in peace.”
I ascended the steps to the House and Senate offices there by the Capital with a feeling of surety that something was amiss in DC…and I found out quickly what it was. The policymakers, the Congressmen and Congresswomen…were not “in the office.” They had taken an early break and were all conveniently “away from their desks.” I stopped by office after office of the people I came to talk to…and was turned away each time with the same story of the “holiday to evade protests and activists” which I assumed by the end of the day had to have been declared in some secret midnight session.
I left them all notes. On their own stationary…that way they would know I had been there in person. I told them how disappointed I was to have come all that way and not had the opportunity to tell them to their faces all the ways in which I believe they have absolutely dropped the ball with the American governmental process. It’s a sad joke, the state of things in our government right now, in case you already DIDN’T KNOW.
My note at Harry Reid’s office was probably the most scathing. It went something like, “The rumors had it that you had a spine…I guess that’s the way of rumors.” I signed them all and I expect responses…I’m not an anonymous loonie who just goes around writing cryptic messages for Congressmen to baffle themselves over for hours. My message was clear. The people do not want this war. It’s time to leave the Middle East. It’s time to hold Bush and Cheney accountable, and on that one everyone needs to stop passing the buck. It’s time to do your jobs, Congress…any day now would be fine. The people demand representation and are NOT GETTING IT.
I trekked the other way down Pennsylvania Avenue to what I discovered to be the “backside” (The South Side) of the White House. On my way I found a new way to circumvent the poster ban…I strapped my poster advertising the march on 9/15 to the back of my pack. Most folks stopped to see what it said…I hope some of the same showed up due to my getting the word out the only way I could. Turns out there were also thousands of handbills passed out by dedicated members of the ANSWER coalition and the Iraq Vets Against The War…everybody does what they can, I guess.
Anyhow, the poster advertising the march comes into play on the south side of the White House…I took off my pack and sat down cross-legged to hang out and smoke a cigarette right front and center where everyone congregates to take pictures and enjoy the view of the South Lawn…I was immediately accosted by a Capital Police officer, whose name I didn’t write down unfortunately, who TOLD me to immediately produce identification. I told him I would be happy to give him my name, address, and date of birth…but that I knew of no law requiring me to either carry or produce state-issued identification upon the mere routine request of a law enforcement officer. He told me that in DC there WAS a law on the books that said I had to. I complied but as I handed him my ID I told him that if that were truly the case, the Founding Fathers would have even more to be ashamed of that evening as they rolled in their graves. I don’t think he liked that.
He came back over and tried to play a little verbal volleyball with me, and after a few minutes of getting his ass handed to him by a weirdo with a sign on his backpack he finally conceded that I had the right to sit there on my ass and smoke cigarettes as long as I so desired. I reported his attempt to enforce a statute I’d never heard of (and probably doesn’t exist) to the Captain of his White House detail during the Code Pink protest, a man who I came to admire for his seeming virtue and dedication to his job. He was also the most knowledgeable and intelligent of the DC cops I encountered, and conceded that I had a point about the guy hassling me for ID behind the White House without any probably cause or even suspicion, and that he would “look into that for me.” An AP reporter snapped a shot of our conversation, which he might have interpreted to be a heated political debate, but the reality was that we were trying to talk over the airhorns and drums of the Code Pink protest happening immediately behind me.
The Code Pink ladies amuse and impress me equally. They have such a keen sense of humor and political irony, and such a way of expressing themselves publicly with confidence and solidarity of values. I was happy to meet many of these ladies who were invariably kind, considerate, and thoughtful to the extreme. I was proud to have been present to witness a far more humble act than my own when two 23-year old kids who walked 4,000 miles from San Francisco (walked, not hitchhiked) sat down on the sidewalk and were peacefully arrested in an act of civil disobedience to protest the war and protest for impeachment to be put back on the table.
After Code Pink vacated the sidewalk the DC police took down the police lines and reverted to the typical regulations regarding protests there, which include the stipulation that there be no static protest between the two light poles in the center of the sidewalk in front of the north side of the White House, the side most of us see in the movies with the lights and the fountain out front…anyhow, between the poles one must keep moving, and I thought it to be an odd and absurd regulation…so I protested it.
I walked in circles talking to the DC police, Secret Service, and closed circuit TV cameras until about 4:30 in the morning that first night. I had long and interesting conversations with the authorities, the passersby, and even a guy claiming to be a TV reporter from Virginia.
The conversations I had with the law enforcement officers were the most rewarding. I pointed out how ludicrous it was that I was walking in circles in front of the White House in the wee hours of the morning, and how equally ridiculous that our tax dollars were paying them in double capacity to make sure I kept moving to enforce the statute. Some were stoic and tried to ignore my rant, but I would hook them in with an impromptu game of hopscotch or even doing the Michael Jackson “moonwalk” at one point…I know he grinned on that one but I bet he’d never admit it to this day. I wasn’t surprised that with hours of helpful instruction, lessons in recent and ancient history, and kind reminders of the virtue of truth and integrity…many of these gentlemen conceded I was the sanest person they’d ever seen walk in circles in front of the White House until the wee hours of the morning.
I talked with a couple of old Jewish ladies who were vehemently pro-Bush (imagine that) and they both walked away in disgust after I managed to counter every single point they made. (It’s easy to defend peace. It’s hard to defend war.) Many more came up to me and shook my hand and walked with me as we discussed everything from health care to gun control…to the mysteries of 9/11 and the continuous proliferation of the tools of destruction unabated across the face of the planet for profit.
I eventually wore my feet down to nothing but pulsating, blistered stubs and had to call off my all-night vigil in favor of some much needed rest. I chose (by accident?) the church two blocks from the White House where I AM TOLD President Bush himself attends about once a month, with great fanfare and motorcades and advance teams in front of the procession sweeping the homeless from the area with neat and quiet ease.
The night in question was not a night for Bush to come to the garden to pray, apparently, and there were half a dozen homeless men and myself sharing the park benches out front. Those park benches are not meant for sleeping, by the way. They are about four foot long. My feet were on the ground and my pack was on my chest in my tight grasp as I nodded in and out of consciousness, aware of the stares from both the homeless “regulars” and the pedestrians of the early morning hours in DC.
I am a stranger in a strange land, and always have been. More to come.
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