Shootout at the Boobie Corral

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You have undoubtedly heard by now of the second great shootout in Waco, Texas.  The first involved the FBI, the U.S. Army and some unfortunate parishioners at the local Seventh-Day Adventist Church. Over twenty-two years ago the government decided to “rescue” some women and children from the clutches of their own church.  In typical government fashion the rescue attempt became an inferno (literally).

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(Saving the children, government style.  Google.)

This time around the action featured members of various biker clubs.  The Bandidos and several other gangs met at the local Twin Peaks restaurant to discuss recruitment and territorial matters.  It was a sort of corporate retreat for overweight, balding druggies and felons.

Twin Peaks is famous for its sophisticated culinary offerings.

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(Steak Tartare and Foie Gras, anyone?  Google.)

Bikers are famous for … well …

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(Yeah… Why, Google, why?)

Bikers clubs, frequently rivaling the State in criminality, are often subject to intense police scrutiny.  The government suffers no rivals.  As was, the local police were keeping a malicious eye on the two-wheeling hooligans.  They apparently warned the management of Twin Peaks the event would turn out poorly.

At first, things seemed to go well.  “You like riding a dangerous over-sized bicycle without a helmet?”  “Me too!”  Friendships were forming.  Then, sadly, someone said or did something someone else did not like.

A fight began which left nine dead and eighteen seriously injured.  About 170 were arrested following a mass assault by the police who were, conveniently, staging nearby. When the shooting started the cops were ready and participated immediately.  SWAT units and tanks were already on site.

Authorities investigate a shooting in the parking lot of the Twin Peaks restaurant Sunday, May 17, 2015, in Waco, Texas. Authorities say that the shootout victims were members of rival biker gangs that had gathered for a meeting. (AP Photo/Jerry Larson)

Authorities investigate a shooting in the parking lot of the Twin Peaks restaurant Sunday, May 17, 2015, in Waco, Texas. Authorities say that the shootout victims were members of rival biker gangs that had gathered for a meeting. (AP Photo/Jerry Larson) (Read: Costumed gang members arrest other costumed gang members while others retire neath yellow tarps…)

Many of my fellow conspiracy theorist friends have judged that the police, seeking to eliminate corrupt competition, staged the event and sniped those key members of the clubs whom most threatened their dominance.  I, as of yet, do not share this conclusion.  However, if the media resoundingly silences the results of autopsies and reports (as in the first murderous Waco affair), much credence will be given to this view. Already, things are “returning to normal.

As nothing really surprises me anymore, this would make perfect sense.  It would also make sense if this was just the result of redneck stupidity – a sign of the demented times of modern America.  I recently wrote about blacks in Baltimore burning and looting their own neighborhoods in acts of flagrant stupidity.  I also touched on the incessant need of Muslims to shoot up cartoon conventions.  It’s only natural for marginally educated or employed white boys to get in on the senseless violence.

So it goes in America.  What a great country we had.  Remember the 70’s? Or the 80’s? 50’s? 90’s?  It seems like such a long time ago.  Time marches on.  The culture regresses.

I’ve been forecasting a giant, scholarly post of late.  Today will be the day.  I intend to publish a draft today or tonight by hook or by crook.  It’s coming.  As sure as the boobs of Texas are upon you.

Democracy in America: A Charming Children’s Story

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Last week I mentioned that an election was coming.  I also presented my own favorite candidate – Frank the Frog.  Frank will not win and the election is in vain.  Vote if you care.  I don’t.

The Illustrious Barry Hussein El Islam Muhammad Obama the Magnificent has finished the job begun by his predecessors – the country is in ruins.  For his replacement the Democrats have dug to the very bottom of the bag of wrinkled has-beens, to one Hillary Clinton, the wife of “good times Bill, the slickster.”

The Republicans have other, similar ideas.  They would foist upon the people yet a third member of the Bush clan.  Obviously, the people are okay with two families maintaining a grip on national power for two or three or five decades.  Their business.  Is there some national obsession with rats and roaches of which I am not completely aware?

In Iowa the Republicans “think they must soften their image and expand their appeal in particular to women and Latino voters.”  I assume women and Latinos enjoy constant war, perpetual debt and crushing loads of government buffoonery.  Again, their business.

However, down in South Carolina, the GOP still caters to the Budweiser and NASCAR crowd.  There, apparently, women and Latinos are still at odds.  A woman, who had once been a Democrat, shouted, “People are coming in this country across the borders like rats and roaches in the woodpile! … The audience applauded.  She complained that states were registering people to vote and failing to ‘check them out.’ ‘We’ve got to get control,'” she bellowed while munching on a Twinkie.

You would think that after all this time conservative conference planners would have learned the one most important lesson about conservative conferences: Never let the audience speak. Ever.”  They don’t learn.  No-one learns.  Ten thousand years of history demonstrate unequivocally than government does not work.  Democrats love it. Republicans still love it.  The people hoot and holler like chimps in a cage.

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(Large gathering of fat, illiterate white people.  Google.)

The universal message provided by the freedom-loving Republican candidates may be summarized as follows: more war!; Mexicans bad!; Muslims bad!; Democrats bad!; give taxes to banksters!; huff; puff.

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(Bubba believes in the flag.  Google/Getty.)

Such fairy tales are humorous but foolish when taken seriously.  If the Democrats false egalitarianism had been real thirty years ago things might be better today.  If flag-worshipping Republicans actually had sought freedom, things might be better.  In reality, their lies and deceit have done us in.

Following his in-depth observations of early nineteenth-century America, Frenchman Alexis de Tocqueville, wrote Democracy in America, 1835.  The book is a masterful account of the political and demographic expanse of early America.

De Tocqueville wrote of the three races in the new world at that time: whites, blacks, and indians.  He proposed that whites and blacks would have to get along together in a future in which they formed the vast majority of the populace.  The fate of the native people seemed doubtful to Tocqueville.  Sensing there would be unnecessary, faction-based strife among the people for years to come, he refrained from any ultimate prediction in favor of a “time will tell” conclusion.

Time has told.  Following the two major parties, the people have chosen a sort of mass suicide followed by uncertain government managed life support.  Currently, while the bloated carcass of the American public drools on the gurney, the plug is being pulled.

This all leads me to a charming little tale, told in the far distant future.

In the cold winter of 3187, in the nation of Utopia, two young children dined with their old grandfather.  Following their meal the children enjoyed a brief holographic conversation with their parents.  Mom and Dad were enjoying a well deserved vacation on Mars.

As the evening deepened outside grandpa built a cozy fire on the hearth.

“Come and tell me about your school day,” he eagerly beckoned.  Little Timmy and Suzy recounted with wonder the day’s history lesson.  “Teacher read to us from an old book by Alex Me Folkville!,” volunteered Timmy.  “It was all about the ancient Americans,” exclaimed Suzy.

Timmy inquired of the smiling old man, “Have you ever heard of the Americans?”

“Yes, they were once a great people,” said Grandpa with a sigh.

“What happened to them,” asked Suzy, snuggling under Grandpa’s flannel-clad arm.

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(A future history unfolds.  Google.)

“Well, if you really want to know, I can tell you of the Americans and their strange fate.”  Grandpa began:

A long, long time ago in a land far away, a group of wise men built up a great nation. The people were virtuous and hard-working.  Sure, they had their troubles, but they always tried to resolve them.

In such fashion they became wealthy, powerful, and happy.  They, it were, who invented many of the things we enjoy today – airplanes, spaceships, and cheeseburgers.

Just when they reached the zenith of their prosperity a funny thing happened…

“What’s a ‘zenith’,” asked Timmy as he enjoyed the wood fire.

“‘Zenith’ means ‘height’ or ‘best’,” answered Grandpa.  He continued:

The Americans were a diverse and happy people. De Tocqueville, your Me Folkville, noted their main divisions – white, black and indian or Mexican.  But, for reasons no-one really understands, they all fell under the dominion of two parties of deranged fools.  When I was a lad our teachers referred to the two groups as the rats and the roaches.  I think their real names were the Democrats and the Republicans.

Inexplicably, the free people of America, the most self-reliant and strongest of all people on earth, ceded all control of their lives to the most vile, idiotic, debased and degenerate lowlifes imaginable.

Every few years or so the people would hold a big popularity contest.  There was no need.  Everything was fine as it was.  But the rats … the Democrats and Republicans convinced the people there was good reason to place them in power.  The people filled their time with television, sports, food, and other trivialities.  Politically, they adopted an ‘us’ verses ‘them’ mentality.

Slowly, the politicians took control.  They perverted everything good about America. They made war on all other peoples just for the fun of it.  They spent money to the point the money had no value.  They encouraged the people to hate each other and themselves.  The times were vicious and confusing.

At last, in the middle of the 21st century, things fell apart.  All those great Americans had become a host of overweight, lazy, angry couch potatoes.  They traded their freedom for false security.  They were all on welfare. The world hated them.  They were poor.  They had no purpose.

The politicians and their huckster friends took the last of the money and fled abroad. The people were left in abject squalor.  Bereft of their jobs, their entertainment and their dignity they resorted to primitive tribalism.

The indians/Mexicans were centered in the southwest.  One day it was discovered that there was not a drop of water left there.  The Mexicans, those who survived, all returned to Mexico.

The southeast of the country was inhabited almost entirely by blacks.  In their collective psychosis, they decided to revert to an earlier way of life.  They decided to become slaves on various cotton plantations under the rule of white masters.  Lacking real whites, they appointed several of their own number to serve in this role.  They fared poorly and became extinct.

The whites fared no better.  Living mostly in the mountainous west, after a night of hard-drinking, they became enamoured of the idea of re-enacting the cowboy and indian wars of old.  As all real indians were then fled to Mexico, they held a giant game of shirts and skins amongst themselves. Thus, they uniformly perished.

The great American northeast, cradle of the original nation, was inhabited by one man – a Canadian named Jacque Strapp.  It was never known what became of him.

So the great land became uninhabited.  The old forests overtook the cities and after a whil, few traces of civilization remained.  And now, it is all history.  It happened so long ago…

“Would you like to live like the Americans?” Grandpa asked the children.  “Would you vote for fool politicians to ruin and destroy your lives?”

“No!” yelled both of the little ones in unison.

“Well then, good! Let us enjoy the fire,” said grandpa.

So ends the tale yet untold.  Will it become a reality?  Do we, the living, have the ability to change our fates and future history?

Will you continue to vote for your own destruction?

I hope not.  Take a queue from Timmy and Suzy.  Dispense with the rats and roaches of democracy.

Flyin’ N Spyin’

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A little while back I did a popular series on the electronic dangers lurking inside your new automobile.  I started with a post on a 60 Minutes segment on auto computers and their susceptibility to hacking.  I expounded thereon once Senator Ed Markey of Massachusetts released a damning report on the vulnerability and the complete lack of defense provided by auto manufacturers.  The Markey Report is worth a read.

Next I sounded the alarm on the Federal government’s efforts to track you via computers – even in your car.  I noted some might welcome the intrusion – for the children and such.  If these nuts fly commercial in addition to driving, then they will be further elated.  News comes that a disgruntled techie was able to hack into the controls of an airliner and temporarily take over the flight.

The malicious nerd:

hacked the in-flight entertainment system, or IFE, on an airplane and overwrote code on the plane’s Thrust Management Computer while aboard the flight. He was able to issue a climb command and make the plane briefly change course, the document states.

“He stated that he thereby caused one of the airplane engines to climb resulting in a lateral or sideways movement of the plane during one of these flights…

Just so you know, you are now at risk on the road and in the sky.  I’m sure the TSA is hard at work on a remedy.  Maybe passengers will be barred from bringing any electronic devices aboard.  Maybe they’ll have to fly naked.  At any rate, the problem will still exist, but with a host of new issues to accompany.

Things are out of hand.  In the good old days it took a couple of thugs armed with box-cutters to destroy an airplane.  Now, any dork with a smart phone can do the job.

Nightcap, May 13, 2015

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Earlier today I wrote a charming piece about the political landscape of modern America. It contained, among many other tidbits, a link to my Posse Comitatus article.  In today’s ramblings I was a little hard on the public and their beloved political parties.  My apologies.  As a token of peace I offer you a figure and candidate I feel would be a wonderful choice for President!

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(Frank the Frog approves this message.)

His name is Frank.  He lives under the kitchen window.  He’s reserved.

True, he may not be old enough to run.  Then again, when was the last time the law counted for anything?  Frank’s birth certificate and past are none of your business.

I realize that many of you might not like the idea of voting for America’s first Amphibian President.  You bigots…  I’m not even sure Frank wants the job.  He has one now that he is very good at – he eats flies.  Please don’t hold Frank’s lack of unproductive employment against him.  It’s just his nature.  Also, kindly overlook his lack of other qualities folks these days associate with electoral qualification: he doesn’t play the saxophone; he doesn’t use drugs; he doesn’t drink and drive; he doesn’t hide emails (don’t think he owns a computer).

Well, heck, now I’m starting to reconsider…  Frank lacks the energetic charisma of a John Kerry.  He does not have the svelte athleticism of a Chris Christie.  His IQ is probably too high.  Again, he’s known to quietly go about his business and work without bothering anyone (except the flies).

Forget it.  Frank is not Washington material.

Question of the night: If a politician goes to a whorehouse, who then is whom?

Facts of the evening: this has already been the biggest day in blog history (thanks!); I write a lot that never sees the light of publication – I’m working on that; this is the 223rd post to the old blog (223 is an important number when dealing with the government); Frank the Frog owes nothing to the Federal Reserve/money-industrial complex (poor guy could never get elected).

Amidst my writings I am crafting what will be the longest of all my articles here.  When finished – soon I hope – it might be suitable for publication as a book.  Yes, another book I might publish…  In part it is a book about a book.  I hope you’ll read and consider the message I give.

Good night and good reading!

–  Perrin

Far Beyond Control

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“Your” government is officially far past the point where it could be possibly reigned in. Next year must hold in store an election.  I keep hearing and reading that the Republicans and Democrats are preparing their usual assortment of tired psychopaths from which the little people are to select their future “leadership.”  It could be that I have stepped through a worm hole to the past because I keep hearing names like Bush and Clinton.

As George Carlin used to say, “this is the best we can do.”  It will never get better. Incredibly, it gets worse every four years.  I gave up on voting and political participation a long time ago.  I stand by my statement that the last, best chance we had to save the Republic was to elect Ron Paul President in 2008.  We missed it.  Today, I lead a happy life of personal anarchy.  My only involvement with the government is paying taxes and evading the traffic cops.  It works well.  The sheep still don’t see it.

You may have seen or read about the increasing militarization of government forces – the blurring of lines between domestic police and the standing martial army.  I wrote about it previously.

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(USA! USA!  Google.)

Speaking of blurred lines, I, being a recovering attorney, am THE expert on the Posse Comitatus Act (PCA).  The PCA was put into place many, many years ago to halt the use of military forces from providing ordinary law enforcement within the territorial confines of the U.S.  It has not worked.

Law after law and action after action have provided a myriad of exemptions to the PCA. Drugs, terror, riots, training – you name it.  The PCA is moot.

So it is today that most highly trained, deadliest and most feared elements of our armed forces – the special forces – are on the streets training with local police agencies.  It’s like Barney Fife meeting the Seals in Mayberry.  Otis better watch out.

The purpose of elite military forces is to carry out daring missions ABROAD (not at home) in order to disrupt enemy activities with minimal effort or notice.  They are the last force one should want operating amidst the people at home.  This too is lost on the MTV-watching public.

The people are afraid of everything.  Should the government announce pillow cases are tools of terrorism, the people will dutifully burn pillow cases in the town square.  The fools will demand and cheer as the government bombs pillow factories in places like Libya and Iraq.  Imaginary specters are fought with ferocity and pomp.

Meanwhile, real threats go virtually unnoticed.  Recently, the same week that saw the U.S. military engage in various live terror trainings in the Southwest (against fictitious enemies) saw real terrorists attack a cartoon convention in Texas.  Thankfully, for us, the sane, Texas is not Paris.  In the Lone Star State, muslin extremist face summary execution from even lone police officers.  Don’t mess with Texas.  But, no-one else has drawn the corollary (or disconnect) here.  The vaunted military trains for an attack the police can’t handle at the same time the police handle an attack the military can’t.  So it goes.

The sheep graze on.  Fox News, radio talkers and modern “churches” have instilled in the ignorant people a sense of worship for all things military, all things government – so long as it’s the American military and government.  When two groups of drunks meet at the beach, and fight, the sympathy of the nation goes to that group of martial disposition.  No mind is given to reality.

The Sixth Circuit Court of Appeals has just tried to put the brakes on the monstrosity known as the USA Patriot Act.  The Act was intended to grant additional unchecked power to the central government.  Some in the Judiciary have noted this and its underlying illegality.  It does not matter, as Ron Paul notes.  The Bush/Clinton/Bush/Obama/Bush/Clinton/Etc. executive is above the law and will refuse to abide by any Court ruling which limits their authority.  The Courts, truly least of the three branches, are powerless to enforce their rulings.  The Congress, fat, bribed and stoned into complacency, will do nothing.  The sheep graze.

So, pontificate as you will about the coming election.  I may listen but I won’t respond. I’m not rude, it’s just that I don’t believe in fairy tales no matter how entertaining. Next November, you go out and waste your time and energy, saving us from the other side. Afterwards, you may find me at the local bar or cigar shop doing what I do.  Or, you could just join me in freedom land.  Your choice.

Close Encounter of the Clover Kind

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It never ceases to amaze me how bad most people drive these days.  Folks too incompetent to be trusted with a gun or heavy equipment are routinely allowed to operate automobiles which are considerably more dangerous than most weapons of war. Worse, these fools on wheels continually express contempt and disdain for those of us who can actually motor responsibly.

Last week I had a run in (almost literally) with one of these self-righteous clovers.  At lunch I innocently drove over to a gas station to refuel the SUV.  Ahead of me on the road was a Ford Explorer weaving along about ten miles per hour below the speed limit. A clover to be sure it was.

Clover cruised drunkenly past the gas station and I happily pulled in.  I headed towards the second pump so as to make my exit a little easier.  Out of the corner of my right eye I noticed the Explorer execute an insane 180 degree turn.  Now traveling at the speed limit (though in a parking lot) the Ford screeched to a stop inches from my front bumper.

At this point I noticed a Georgia Tech tag on the intruder’s front bumper.  Clovers are generally none too bright and certainly not mechanically inclined.  I was perplexed.  Then I noticed an ugly woman in the driver’s seat.  She was glaring at me with a look of seething hate.  I did not know why but I understood that she thought I had invaded “her” pump.  Clovers are often possessive without cause.  Being a nice guy I smiled and waved to her.  Then I backed up to the other pump, allowing her access to “her” pump.  She aggressively charged forward – she would have almost pushed me backwards.  Oh well, live and let live…

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(It’s her road.  Move!  Google.)

It turns out we both had business inside at the register.  I politely waited behind her in line whilst another clover gambled away its disability money on lottery tickets.  Ford Tech Cloveress (both ugly and fat) then turned around and looked me up and down. She snorted, “Do you always drive like that?!”  Like that.  It’s always our fault.  No matter what…  Yes, I drive like that.  I obey the rules of the road.  I go where I will without bothering anyone.  I politely help even the most obnoxious clovers at the gas station.

With growing irritation I looked at her and said, “You mean in a car? … Yeah.”  The angry little hippo then rolled her eyes, stamped a hoof and turned back around.  The Gambler scratched away, oblivious to the world.  A fly flew by.

Ticking like a bomb, Clover stewed and turned again.  She, in grunting fashion, began to lecture me about the perils of not making way for clovers.  She explained she worked at a hospital.  She stamped another hoof.  I listened patiently all the while regretting my decision to leave the house without a pistol.  When she stopped to gasp for breath I said, “Thanks for the lesson!” in happiest tone.

Finally, the decrepit numerologist at the counter ran out of luck or money and shuffled out the door. Clover then proceeded to order some gasoline for her mobile battering ram and two packs of cigarettes.  Of course, a health care worker/professor would also be a smoker.

A few minutes later, outside, as I paid homage to OPEC, Clover finished up and heaved her impressive girth into the driver’s seat of her weapon of mass annoyance.  I looked over and waved.  I yelled, smiling, “Have a great day!”  She bellowed something about being safe and respectfully and sped off.  I assume she slowed to a crawl once on the road.  She was then someone else’s problem and peril.

Lord Jesus be praised, I will likely never see this filthy witch again.  However, I know that every single day I will meet other, similar moron highwaymen (and women).

Absent the wonders of modern science (thank you, Georgia Tech) these idiots would have long ago succumbed to the terminal effects of Darwinian selection.  The moral to be learned from this little story is …. Well …. maybe there is no moral.  Nothing to know. Nothing to help.

For you and I, the sane, responsible and courtesy, all we can do is get out of the way and grin and bear it.  I rest my case.  Or, something….

 

The Lesser American Flag Flap

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A long time ago I penned a column called The Great American Flag Flap (I think).  It was published somewhere and I think it was about the attempt of various rednecks to anger blacks by flying the Confederate Battle Flag.   Maybe I have the parties backwards.  It was about nonsense nonetheless.

It has come to my attention that there currently rages across the land a new flag-related issue.  This time it concerns the American Flag.  Maybe you’ve heard the news. A group of black (???) students at a Georgia University (always in Georgia, God help us…) decided to walk on the U.S. Flag in protest of … something.  There’s a lot to protest in Amerika today.  I fully understand that.

Those students have drawn considerable protest of their protest.  Also, other students (?) elsewhere have started threading on flags.

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(Here some bearded yahoo stands on the Flag for something… WDTN.com.)

By the letter of the law (in a book somewhere) this activity is illegal flag desecration. However, the courts have consistently ruled that flag walking (burning, etc.) is free speech protected by the First Amendment.  Remember the First Amendment?  The Constitution?  Rule of law and all that???

I call this post The LESSER American Flag Flap for a reason.  The fact is, all things considered, flag trampling does not overly concern me.  Some of my friends on Facebook see it otherwise.  I have received several requests to condemn these flag protests as a dire threat to everything America allegedly stands for.  I understand this but I am still not concerned.

The protest protesters say things like the following.  Cleetus from Heehaw Junction, West Virginia says, “that thar flag stands for the men who died for our freedoms!”  Lucy Lou from South Hick, Mississippi screams, “theys don’t understand what we has been through as democratic peoples!”  Jethro from the upstate of New York avers: “We have a flag for a democrats.  The country needs a hero.  Yous guys needs to know that the service of the armed forces means more work here.  The terrorists are everywhere!” Well said, Jethro.

I disagree with all of these statements though I respect the sentiment behind them all – except Jethro’s – not sure what he’s rambling about.

Here’s my problem.  Right now, we have a government hell bent on taxing and regulating our people into the grave.  The same government wants to bomb and invade all other peoples on earth.  The police run around murdering people SS style.  There are no jobs.  The children can’t read or eat.  We are beset with hoards of illiterate invaders who are determined to obtain every benefit the welfare office offers.  Bridges are collapsing.  James Brown is dead.  Amidst all this, I’m supposed to be upset because some kid somewhere stepped on a piece of fabric?  I think not.

I just heard the NFL received a 243 page report on Delate-gate.   Tom Brady is in the crosshairs.  Mind you, that’s about 243 more pages than we saw about the 2012 death and destruction at the Benghazi Consulate.

It’s worse.  The head cover-upper of Benghazi is the Democratic front runner for President in 2016.  The leading Republican is a guy named Bush.  See a pattern?

The short, pointless war in Libya was designed solely to steal the soverign wealth fund of that country from the long-suffering people of Libya.  Some $200 Billion dollars worth of funds were whisked out of Libya and into the hands of a British Bank.  No explanation given, no questions asked.  The predicament now over that money is how much our criminal friends at Goldman Sachs were entitled to.

Keep your eye on the soft football, folks.

The crown of insanity sits atop the head of our central imperial government.  Despite robbing a hundred million Americans every year, the IRS still claims you have rights!

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(The Tax Slave Bill of Rights.  IRS/Morgoth.)

Ten rights to be exact.  Do not confuse these with the defunct Bill of Rights which once accompanied the charter of the Mordor on the Potomac.  The tenth “right” brought laughter to my lips: The right to a fair and just tax system!  I tell you that no such thing exists in nature or in fiction.  The system is place is plain but in no way fair.  You simply pay what they tell you or they seize your property and put you in jail.  Resist and they will do away with you.  Just, huh?

Maybe I’m wrong.  Maybe a little more respect for flags and footballs is all necessary to cure the ills of the free world.  Maybe the sun will rise in the West tomorrow.

Cigar Lunacy

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Cigars are a hobby of mine.  I have written about them before and before.

Today I am happy to report that we have crossed a new frontier in cigar legend: the monstrous JFR Lunatic by Casa Fernandez (formerly Tropical Tobacco).  This is a TITANIC smoke – an 8 x 80(!) – and not for the faint of heart.

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(For comparison I placed a Lunatic next to JFR’s already massive 770 and a “normal” sized smoke – an Ashton VSG robusto.)

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(And, next to a book of matches.)

As the resident lunatic smoker of my home shop I was asked to review this beast. Russell kindly provided me with a free sample courtesy of Maritza of Fernandez.

I have smoked 80 ring-gauges before (such as the Asylum 6 x 80).  I found them decent in flavor and consistency but a bit unwieldy.  Damn near an inch and a half in width a standard 80 actually starts to hurt the jaw while smoking.  It’s reminiscent of a visit to the dentist involving one of those devices which holds the mouth open.  JFR has cured this by producing the Lunatic in a tapered or “pyramid” design.  The cap end is about the size of a 60 RG.  This makes the smoking process itself easier.

The taste is excellent – the same blend as ordinary JFRs.  The cigar is well constructed and burns evenly.  One distinct problem, though, is that the smoke does not hold it’s ash well.  The ash produced is a clean, light gray color but after half an inch or so it but be tapped off in order to prevent an accident.  With such a ridiculous girth the center of the ash is still active and could cause a burn if it fell off inadvertently.

Another problem (or benefit) of the Lunatic is the smoking time required.  The smoke is immediately flavorful with no bitterness.  It has a woody, earth Nicaraguan taste which is consistent.  However, I estimate it would take at least three hours to finish this monster.  Theoretically, it might take up to four hours.  This is great for a fishing trip but might be overwhelming for average afternoon enjoyment.  Again, I must warn that is not a stick for novices.

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(Not a beginner cigar.)

In the end this may be too much of a good thing.  I will likely stick with routine 6 x 60s and 7 x 70s for heavy flavor delivery.  However, I did like the Lunatic immensely (pun…).  I don’t have a rating system but I do like it.  My description herein should suffice for you to make your own decision.  I suspect this novelty will remain just that and only available for a short time or in limited quantity.  For an estimated $10 it is really a bargain.

Of course, if you must have a GIGANTIC smoke look no further than Indigo’s Chief.  At a foot and a half long it should last all day and then some.  Good luck finding one.  Better luck finishing one.

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(As crazy a comparison as may be made…)

Whatever the size or flavor, remember,

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(Yes, Rudyard, a good cigar is a smoke.)

For the skeptics and haters:

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(The real lunatics are politicians and their enablers.  Put that in your pipe and smoke it).

Happy smoking!

Nothing to Worry About

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Several years ago I wrote a book I never published – I have not published it yet.  The central theme of the text was that worry is a waste of time and that, rather than fretting constantly, one should use one’s time to the best and highest endeavors possible.  I think this will lead to a happier life on earth.

Meanwhile, I write here about many subjects I find alarming and which may cause some to fret and worry.  My purpose is only to educate and not to burden any with fear. Fear is a funny thing.  It’s natural purpose is to use the brain to wake the body in answer to physical danger.

Today fear is usually utilized as a weapon to keep the public in check – see H.L. Mencken on the aim of practical politics.  A famous American socialist once (in half truth) declared, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”

Regarding life in the new Amerika, many insist “if you ain’t doing nothing wrong, you ain’t got nothing to worry about.”  They especially say this concerning interaction with the police – and especially when it is someone else doing the interacting.  This view is usually espoused by a “God-fearing conservative” to the host of a radio program.  I have derided this nonsensical assertion time and time again.

The unfolding debacle in Baltimore, Maryland again illustrates the sobering point that the innocent do have something to worry about (or fear).

Twenty-five year old Freddie Gray was chased down and hog-tied by Baltimore police officers for the high crime of making eye contact with the officers.  Gray was then thrown into the steel back of a paddy wagon.  In violation of police procedures Gray was not seat-belted or otherwise secured.   His complaints that he couldn’t breath and his plea for a medical inhaler were ignored.  Gray was assaulted and kidnapped.

The cops drove around for a while with Gray bouncing around in the back.  Several times they stopped and consulted with other officers.  Gray begged for help and was ignored.  Each time Gray was re-positioned in unsecured fashion in his rolling torture chamber.  By the time the van reached the police station Gray had suffered a broken neck.  He died as a result.

At lunch one day last week I listened for a few seconds to one of those right-wing radio shows.  The caller or guest  was explaining that Gray probably had a pre-existing injury and that injury was the real cause of this demise.  The torture during his kidnapping merely added the final straw.  Cursing, I turned off the radio.  I should have called in and explained the centuries-old law on this point.  There is an ancient legal maxim (in torts and in criminal law) that you take your victim as you find them.  In civil matters this is known as the “eggshell plaintiff” phenomenon.

A criminal wrongdoer is not relieved of culpability because he happened to choose a weak victim.  The fact that a person is predisposed to injury is no excuse for harming the person.  A person of conscience knows he shouldn’t harm anyone – weakened or not. This point is lost on the tobacco chewing NASCAR set.  Mercifully, it is not foreign to the Maryland State Attorney.

On May 1st, that Attorney, Marilyn J Mosby, charged the criminal officers involved in Gray’s death with various criminal charges, including murder.  The free people of Baltimore rightly celebrated in the streets.  All to often the police are granted blanket immunity for actions which would land any ordinary citizen in jail.

Mrs. Mosby also concluded that Gray’s arrest and transport was illegal: the police had no reason to believe he committed any crime.  He committed no crime.  Looking at the police is not a crime.  Walking or running away from the police is not a crime (as the police are known to murder people, it might be a good idea).  Carrying a pocket knife as Gray did is not a crime.  Assault, kidnapping and murder are crimes.

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(Brian Rice, criminal police agent.  Google/ABCnews.)

In ancient times the police were held to a higher standard than ordinary people due to their positions of power.  The common law of old England held that not only was an officer criminally and civilly liable for his mal-actions but, also, any citizen witnessing police misconduct were obliged to take whatever action was necessary to protect the innocent.  As such, on rare occasions criminal officers were subject to summary execution in order to preserve the freedoms of the people.

Today, our rodent politicians and the limp-wristed weaklings of society bemoan any action, no matter how justified, which interferes with police activity (right or wrong).  The new mantra is “submit and obey” for the people rather than have the police “serve and protect.”  These low-minded, soulless beings also share responsibility for deaths such as Gray’s.

In a strange but happy reversal of fate the officers who murdered Gray are facing up to 63 years in prison.  This will not help Gray at all but it will set a new precedent that (as should be) the police are not above the law.

Those six criminals in blue and their useless enablers have also stirred up other crimes against society.  Following Gray’s murder the oppressed of Baltimore took to the streets to vent their pent-up frustration.  This provided cover for gangs of looters and thugs to move in like vultures and riot across the city – causing damage untold.  This is a familiar pattern.  This pattern demonstrates how upside-down America has become.

In a perfect world the police would leave people like Freddie Gray alone and spend their hours weeding out the ruinous members of the populace given to riot and loot when the opportunity presents itself.  The rest of the people would express heartfelt appreciation. We have a long way to go reach this perfect place.

Until then, we must continue our vigilance against the forces of evil.  We must live aware of these forces not in fear of them.  In the words of Jesus, “And fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.”  Matthew 10: 28 (KJV).

Trial By Jury, The Yellow Ribbon Myth and the Decline of an Ancient Institution

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The ancient Greeks and Romans had the crazy idea that a man accused of a crime should have the benefit of a public trial.  During this ordeal the accusing party (the State) would have the burden of presenting facts, which might establish a crime.  The Sword of God crowd would hold these base allegations sufficient to show the underlying criminal act.  Our ancient ansestores had other ideas.  To them the issue was important enough to warrant consideration by an assembly of impartial justices – a jury.

Of old the jury consisted of various members of the accused’s peers.  These were his friends whom knew him well.  Why were such pre-disposed men considered impartial, as they were friends of the accused?  The idea was that, being men of honor, they would hear the evidence and weigh it in their minds fairly regardless of their relation to the suspect.  The fact that they were friends of the accused served as a check against an illicit prosecution.

If “X” was charged with a baseless crime, the jury might collectively judge that, “yes, X is given to bouts of indiscretion, but he would never do something like this.  Or, they might find that X, while am affable fellow, might be the sort who would commit such an act as alleged.

The system, while not perfect, worked well.  In Rome, such trials were reserved for the upper classes – for men of privilege.  Commoners were generally tried by magistrates in shorter, more informal settings.  These lessor citizens, being of lessor importance, faced lower burdens of proof and lower levels of punishment.  Fair if not.  Members of the elite classes, given to higher responsibilities, were treated to high levels of justice.  See the defense of Milo (a murder suspect), presented by one Marcus Tullius Cicero, one of the greatest lawyers of antiquity.

This theoretical approach to justice lived on after the 5th Century, being embodied in the Magna Carta, a core right of Englishmen.  Thus, the right to a jury came to America.

Today this right is practically non-existent.  In modern Amerika a jury trial, while nominally “of one’s peers” is one assured not by your peers.  The fact is that very few criminal prosecutions end with a trial.  Most of those end with a conviction (the vast majority).  This is due to the overwhelming influence of the State and the extremely limited powers of the accused to resist such influence.  Every effort is made to ensure that the jury does not, in nay way, know of the accused on a personal level.  Further, only those enslaved to the power and suggestion of the accusing State are favored or empaneled.  The system has been turned on its head.

Lately, several high-profile trials have made the news; these illustrate my point that there is no right to a fair trial in Amerika.

In 1989 Debra Milke was tried for the murder of her four-year-old son, Christopher.  A jury (not of her peers) found her guilty – based solely on the unsupported testimony of a rogue police detective.  Despite all indications of innocence the State’s chosen jury found Milke guilty.  Thus, for several decades Milke lived in the daily terror of Arizona’s death row – dimmed to die for a crime she did not commit.  The guilty parties averred she had nothing to do with the crime.  This did not matter to the State until the matter was finally (thankfully) reviewed by the U.S. Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals and the Arizona Supreme Court.  See also: Arizona Supreme Court Won’t Allow Retrial of Debra Milke. The prosecutor is, naturally, frustrated by this untimely carriage of justice.

Milke was blessed by higher intervention.  Too often the innocent in Amerika are executed for crimes they did not commit.  A recent admission shows that the FBI and its crime lab have doomed at least a dozen innocents to death.  You have probably never heard of these cases of injustice.  So it goes.

Thus do the innocent, robbed of true justice, resort to filing pleadings in courts entitled, “F*ck this Court.”  This one warrants reading and consideration.

Debra Milke faced execution because a heartless police officer lied under oath.  The officer has since “taken the fifth” so as to avoid prosecution himself for his lies.  The citizens of Arizona will pay millions of dollars to right this injustice.

A thousand miles away, in Boston, Dzhokhar Tsarnev has been found guilty of the Boston Marathon Bombings.   His was one of the most bizarre trials I have ever heard of. See: Boston Marathon bombing trial: 18 jurors at a glance.  The jury was selected based on their indifference toward the accused and their alliance with the state.  Tsarnev was not allowed a defense.  Rather, he, by way of his “counsel,” admitted guilt but relied on specious allegations of the undue influence of his older brother.  His brother and other key witnesses were, conveniently, dead.

The case was tried backwards.  The prosecutor first present victims of the bombing and their woeful statements – this usually comes after guilt has been established, during the penalty phase of the trial.  Tsarnev’s counsel never even questioned these witnesses.  The government then presented an unopposed fable of how Tsarnev constructed and utilized homemade bombs.  Again, no challenge came from the “defense.”  The lack of direct evidence was deafening.

Having admitted guilt and completely failing to challenge the government’s base allegations it was a given fact Tsarnev would be found guilty.  They strategy (if any) of his counsel was that he would attempt to evade the death penalty by way of the supposed undue influence of his dead brother.  Charming.  Pathetic.

It is entirely likely that this young man played a part in the bombings.  Thus, he deserves execution for his crimes.  However, I have long suspected he was only a pawn in a false-flag operation designed to test America’s willingness to endure a police state (shelter in place, and all that).   We will never know the truth here.

As a former criminal defense attorney I am well aware of the failings of the modern, American jury system of “justice.”  Here follows the entire account of one of my trials in federal court, before a jury and bereft of justice.  The names have been changed to protect the innocent, the guilty, and me.  This story was originally designed for publication (never achieved) in a major news journal:

The Yellow Ribbon Myth: Amerikans Do Not Support The Troops, Nor Justice.

Do you “support the troops?” One sees countless bumper stickers proclaiming such support. I no longer believe the propaganda. When someone says, “I support the troops,” I hear, “I support the government.” This concept was made painfully obvious to me during a criminal trial last fall.

My client, “Donny’s” case, in a U.S. District Court, 2012:

I’m am calling my client “Donny” as I have not yet sought his permission to use his name; I also may be restrained from using certain facts due to Orders of Sealing/Impoundment.

Donny enlisted in the U.S. Army while in high school and completed basic training the summer before his senior year. Donny received an appointment to West Point though, after one year, he stopped his education and entered the Army as an enlisted man. He served with the 375th Ranger company in Afghanistan where he was forced to kill men, women, and children. The experience haunts him daily.

While in the field and during additional training he sustained major injuries, which necessitated his retirement on disability: I think his physical was 50%; his mental injuries (PTSD, psychosis, etc.) were 100%. During his tenure he rose to the rank of Sargent and was awarded so many medals and commendations that multiple forms DD-214 were necessary to list them all.

He received continuing physical and psychiatric treatment at the Augusta, GA VA hospital; they placed he on enough narcotics and psycho-tropic drugs to turn anyone into a zombie. His mental condition was initially rated as temporary. Throughout 2011 he pursued the status of “permanent and unemployable.” During this time he suffered marital and mental health-related troubles daily. Towards the end of his bureaucratic ordeal he made a phone call to the VA national “service” center.

During the (recorded) call he made statements which the VA took as terroristic threats – they alleged he said he was going to the regional VA office in Atlanta to kill the first 3,000 people he encountered using unspecified weaponry. My review of the call lead me to believe he was not sane during the call, that the government’s allegations were a wild, composite stretch of the words used, and that VA’s service isn’t. He was originally arrested on State charges. He was legally carrying a pistol at the time though the arrest was without incident. Damningly, his permanent status was approved the next day. He was released on bail only to be rearrested by the feds, charged with violating 18 USC 875, interstate terror threats (a 5-year maximum felony). Had he specified a “weapon of mass destruction” he would have faced 40 years in prison.

I was appointed as defense counsel and immediately moved for a psychiatric evaluation, thinking this would easily end the case. After several months I received a lengthy report from the MCC New York which exhaustively listed Donny’s chronic mental problems and concluded he was permanently psychotic. However, the good (government) doctor also stated he was obviously sane at the time of the call and competent to stand trial.

We elected to present the matter to a jury, figuring no twelve people could possibly convict a sick man for seeking help from the only source available. We were wrong. The government’s doctor explained the extent of Donny’s condition. The VA representative from the call stated she was not threatened by Donny’s language. The VA stated they did not take any defensive measures when faced with this 9/11 magnitude threat from a man they had trained to expertly kill other human beings. The VA storm-trooper in charge testified he lied under oath to the Grand Jury to obtain the indictment and that he, for no reason, held Donny’s elderly, disabled father at gunpoint AFTER the arrest. Despite all this the twelve morons returned a guilty verdict in less than half an hour. As an aside, at trial the government sandbagged me with thousands of pages of previously withheld discovery and they handed me the afore-referenced pistol LOADED in open court (I cleared it in disbelief).

Donny was sentenced to time served with the probationary condition that he continue his torture at the VA. When I walked into the hearing I was greeted by the AUSA and the VA goon who both suddenly agreed Donny was out of his mind during his “crime.” Donny accepted his sentence and declined both an appeal and a request for a Presidential pardon. I fear his condition will worsen, perhaps with morbid consequences. He is a delightful but pitiful and broken man. I was saddened and broken by this affair.

In modern Amerika Grand Juries, while supposedly independent in their deliberations, are little more than tools of State prosecutors.  The defense is usually excluded entirely. The State has the free reign to present any “evidence” no matter how contrived.

The trial that follows (if any) is a showing of prosecutorial imagination and juridical ignorance.  Less that 3% of defendants are acquitted under this system.  The innocent are convicted and often executed.  The lucky escape after years of torment.  Life goes on and things are not likely to change any time soon.

I will, shortly, present an alternative, if primitive, alternative to this mad, fixed system of “justice.”  Until then, be forewarned and prepared.