Too often there is very little to talk about but what we don’t like—and when you’re picky, or expect competency when dealing with people, all too often what we get is disappointment. Every day for over 6 years now I have put on a leather flight jacket from US Wings. I ride motorcycles all year, and there are maybe a handful of days over that span of time that I don’t have to go somewhere. And when I do travel it is usually by motorcycle. So my leather jacket has to be tough, withstand all the elements and be extremely functional. Even on the hottest days of summer a leather jacket is needed—the mornings are often cool, too cool for naked skin and large bugs pelt you in the torso area while riding. The leather is an offering of armor and is essential riding equipment. Even during a motorcycle ride from Key West to the Everglades 50 miles west of Miami where the real temperature was 107 degrees the early dawn sun was pleasant to the naked skin, but once the day hit 10 AM, it was punishing. The jacket was needed just to stay hydrated and prevent the skin from burning under the sun. Then from Miami to Orlando, afternoon thunderstorms are common, it may be intensely sunny and 15 minutes later a thunderstorm is upon you dropping rain the size of a small fist as hundreds begin hitting you by the minute. Without the leather the pain would be intense, probably unbearable. So because I ride a motorcycle every day of the year I wear a leather jacket every day as well. I have an additional problem, I often meet people where my leather jacket has to go along with a suit and tie. It would be disrespectful to the people I see to show up in a biker jacket with studs looking like I’m going to Sturgis—so I need my leather jacket to look as good as the cloth underneath it. So with all that in mind I have only found one company in the entire world that made a jacket fitting for me and that is U.S. Wings outside of Cleveland, Ohio founded by Sgt. David D. Hack, the Purple Heart recipient and Nation’s #1 US Army recruiter from 69 to 73. He’s been Chief of Police in Sebring, Ohio, and in his spare time founded U.S. Wings in 1986 to the present. His company knows how to make cloths that fit my very intense lifestyle. So you can imagine dear reader how disappointed I was when I went to zip up my well-worn flight jacket a few weeks ago and the teeth were so worn out from use that they no longer gripped each other.
I contacted U.S. Wings to price a new zipper and liner and they responded quickly. The zipper replacement was $60 and the liner replacement was $90, plus shipping the jacket to the New Jersey plant where most of the construction takes place. It was still winter where the nights are often in the mid 20s so I had to be able to zip up the jacket—it simply couldn’t wait. But after careful consideration, even though the stitching all over the jacket was still very much intact it was decided that it was time to retire that jacket and buy a new one. A new jacket from U.S. Wings costs about the same as a good firearm but considering my use, a new one was better than fixing the old one so I placed an order for one of their Signature Series flight jackets with nearly the exact specs.
The order was placed and a few days later the jacket arrived on my doorstep ready for battle. I literally took it out of the box, tried it on for fitting and left the house on my motorcycle. When you meet with people they can tell instantly whether the jacket is a cheap rip-off from some shopping mall vender selling “club” clothing or some piece of crap made for the herds at various coat suppliers destined to be sold in the future at a flea market. It doesn’t matter so much if the jacket is stained from sweet, rain, bugs, or heat streaked, they can tell if it is of quality and if it’s not it won’t look right with a suit and a $500 dollar watch. But U.S. Wing jackets are just fine for this kind of thing and suit both necessities perfectly. The jackets are of a quality where their value never comes into question.
When I bought the first jacket six years ago Hack’s company sent with it some bonus items free of charge—a book about Hack’s life which was actually quite good and a free Moko Man hat which I wear often. As this new jacket arrived I expected him to send something extra, but wasn’t all that shocked when only the jacket was inside. The economy had been hard for everyone, so I figured that U.S. Wings had given up on those kinds of perks to save money. Two days after the arrival of the jacket it was a Saturday and one of my nephews was at my house playing Star Wars: X Wing with myself and one of my son-in-laws as we noticed the mail man driving up our driveway. He dropped off a package and neither my wife nor I expected to receive anything. We took the usual protocols when examining something unusual which arrives at our home, but my concerns quickly alleviated once I saw the U.S. Wings logo on the box.
U.S. Wings had sent a special delivery of free items, a DVD music video titled “The Ballad of Sergeant Hack” by Erica Lane and a special single song CD by the same musical artist called “Believe in America.” Inside also was a special bag designed to protect expensive garments while traveling, such as U.S. Wing jackets and tailored suits. It was a cost that U.S. Wings did not have to incur, they could have just sent the jacket, but as usual they went above and beyond.
The song, “The Ballad of Sergeant Hack” can be heard on the first video on this article along with other videos which give an ideal who David Hack is, and why he is one of those unique people whose personality inevitably comes out in his company U.S. Wings. Hack is a guy who personally wrote President Johnson complaining that he wanted to go to Ranger school. He volunteered for Vietnam during a time when many people were dodging the draft and was a recruiter on the active front designated to reenlist soldiers who were set to rotate out of the combat zones. Needless to say, Sergeant Hack is the real deal and that personality certainly comes out in the clothing line of U.S. Wings.
Hack’s patriotism is genuine. He’s obviously not happy with the direction of the country currently—and his sentiments are much older than the Tea Party. He’s not a “come lately” to the ideal of patriotism and is truly one of the unique people of American culture. I purchase my leather jackets from U.S. Wings because there simply are not better jackets made by any other manufacturer in the world when it comes to military clothing and rugged apparel. I would not trust my jackets to be made by a roving communist from the East or a socialist from Europe or a conquered soul in Russia. U.S. Wing jackets are purely American and made for American lifestyles, and they are the only kind of jacket that I’ll wear.
As is often the case, the company U.S. Wings is the embodiment of its creator, Sergeant Hack and the quality he has directly infused into a great American company. In a day where most things are imports from other countries done cheaply out of necessity, U.S. Wings jackets have an emblem inside all their garments which actually sends a chill up my spine every time I see it—which is every day because I put those jackets on every day. U.S. Wings is a company that I trust because I trust Sergeant Hack and know that he puts a lot of extra effort into the reputation of his company. Most companies that make coats, shoes, boots, or even farm equipment have fallen from grace because the personalities of their creators, the Chief Executive Officers who utilize capitalism to bring joy to the world lose touch with their initial passions. When it comes to U.S. Wings, even after many years of existence, over a long-span of time, their quality and effort are matched by their past performance and it is one of the rare honors that I have had to open a package from them and see what’s inside. Often it is the little things that matter, and when it comes to U.S. Wings a lot of little things add up to greatness, from the quality of their stitching to the measurements of their segments—to the quality of the actual leather. And even when they don’t have to—because the product speaks for itself, David Hack wants his customers to know more about him, so that they know what they are getting is the real deal that won’t falter when they need it most. And when it comes to leather jackets there aren’t any better made.
And now that you’ve read all this, watch all the videos completely and know that what you are seeing is a deep tap-root into American exceptionalism and be damn proud of it.
Also during this week was the start of March Madness, the gigantic NCAA basketball tournament in The United States. I watched several games, particularly the University of Cincinnati against Harvard. UC was a (5) seed playing the underdog Harvard who was a (12), so the game shouldn’t have even been close. Cincinnati should have been able to destroy Harvard, but once the game began it was obvious after the first two minutes that Harvard would win the game—and I declared so much to many people—which is what ended up happening. Cincinnati made a close game of it for a little while, but never led, and was never able to stop the momentum of Harvard. Cincinnati was known for its great defense, and Harvard countered by shooting 3-pointers from behind the arch crushing the Bearcat zone, and taking control of the game. Anyone who is involved in either a military maneuver or a sporting exercise understands that momentum is of utmost importance during strategic engagements, and the way to gain momentum is to keep an opponent from knowing what’s coming. This is why coaches cover their mouths when they call out plays to their teams, and why secrecy is very important.
Most people understand sports, they understand why deception is needed to achieve victory, and they understand the nature of a late game rally to attempt to capture momentum. Human beings design their games after their very lives, so on a perceptual level, it is understood why such strategic implementations are important. Yet for years many thought that the Perestroika Deception from Russian was a conspiracy theory, and that the former U.S.S.R really wanted to be friends with America. American politicians foolishly dismantled the main offensive weapon of the Cold War—NASA and turned their research into memos about leftist global warming concerns and decommissioned the Space Shuttle forcing American astronauts to hitch a ride to space with the Russians—their former enemies. The move by the Obama administration seemed stylish at the time but little did anybody know that the seeds of deception planted by the KGB in America through the education system, through commitment to the United Nations, and a massive debt racked up playing caretaker to the world was all part of the plan—and that Obama was a creation of that deception during the 60s when all his primary mentors were communist advocates—where his college friends were communist revolutionaries and his wife would even work closely with the known American terrorist Bernadine Dorn. All those elements were results of seeds planted by the Russian KGB in the late 1950s, and by 1989 Russia essentially changed their defense against The United States from a zone to man-to-man. The defense called by the KGB was the Perestroika Deception and it allowed them to climb out from under American capitalism and capture the momentum of their strategic engagement with the West.
I had a little fun with Matt at beating Beck to the story, but in all fairness, conspiracy theorists have known about the Perestroika Deception for a long time and have been labeled as “tin hat loons.” I remember a UC basketball game against Duke in the great Alaskan Shootout where UC was down by one point with only seconds to play. Duke was the number one team in America and had something like 5 McDonald’s All Americans sitting on the bench, let alone playing the game. UC obviously had to hit a quick basket but they had to deceive Duke to get an open shot. Bob Huggins positioned Kenyon Martin the future NBA player at half court to draw the attention of Duke players who would try to foul the big man once he cut to the basket. The Duke players anticipated that it would be Martin who would take the shot. Instead Melvin Levett was shadowing the sideline opposite court as far away from Martin as possible. When a long pass was thrown across the court football style to Martin—Kenyon then tossed off the ball to a cutting Levett who was wide open for a dunk that Duke never saw coming. UC had beaten the titans of college basketball, Duke and the headlines littered every newspaper in the country. The only way the play worked was with deception, misdirection, and strategic implementation. People understand these things when it relates to sports, but it is inconvenient to apply the same perceptual knowledge to the world of global politics. So they often don’t see the signs of such strategies, such as what Russia had done with the Perestroika Deception.
The reason that Vladimir Putin is not afraid of Barack Obama is because he knows that as a child of the 60s, Obama was built from the ground up by the KGB infiltration of communism into the American education system. As I told Matt during our interview one of the reasons all these things are so clear to me now is because I was an extreme rebel during my school days and never accepted any instruction that would cause my mind to acknowledge such deceptive strategies. Obama, who is only a few years older than I am—did. He was raised by flower children hippies and old people who loved collectivism. His strongest father figures were all communist revolutionaries and those were direct creations of the KGB at the time. Putin knows exactly what Obama will do and when he will do it, because it was Putin’s KGB which shaped the mind of Obama—so there is nothing to fear from America when it is led by such an easily controlled mind.
I knew Obama picked Harvard to win over Cincinnati, and during the whole game Cincinnati attempted to win by being conventional—by putting the ball in the hands of their best player. Unlike the game against Duke, where it was deception that won the game, UC tried to play against Harvard straight-up. Harvard defended against those best players, and they won the game. Putin is playing the same game against Obama, and he knows the American president is not intellectually capable to deal with Russia as it has been disguised under the Perestroika Deception. Now Americans are angry that they cannot compete with Russia, we are intertwined with the world in ways that prevent capitalism domination of the global marketplace, leaving us all stuck together like free spirits glued to a first grade student’s art class project. Putin is making a move against the world knowing that military action cannot happen, because America is too far in debt to China, and China as a communist country was formed by Russia. Who controls the strings to China—it isn’t the United States? You can read more about Glenn Beck’s coverage of the Perestroika Deception at the following link:
After a reader tipped me off to the Perestroika Deception and I did some extensive research on my own, I wrote “The Pronoun “I”: Communist infiltration of America by Perestroika Deception” to take it out of the realm of conspiracy into a serious discussion of military, and social strategy. I count on people like Clark and Beck to then take the next leap forward with their massive platforms on talk radio. Beck often has a 15 million listener footprint, so it is good when he talks about the Perestroika Deception to the millions of uninitiated masses who wouldn’t otherwise know about it. Those people who read here and sent it to The Blaze have yourselves to thank. You did a very good thing. Beck is often way out ahead of everybody, but this time it was Matt Clark who beat him to the story of the century, and put WAAM radio in the town of Ann Arbor, Michigan square in the sites of Vladimir Putin—which is quite an honor. Because the thing that Putin doesn’t understand and the reason his KGB had to use the Perestroika Deception in the first place is due to people like Matt, Beck and my readers here at Overmanwarrior’s Wisdom who are clearly superior to Russia, Europe, China and everywhere else that there is collective salvation driving their social and economic trends. It’s not Obama who Putin ultimately has to fight, it is us—and he cannot beat us in a straight fight. He and his Russian counterparts must rely on deception—and once that deception is known, their plan is ruined. On Saturday March 22, 2014 at 1-3 PM Matt Clark played his part in ruining that strategy against Putin, and the world is better off because of it. YouTube is more powerful than the Voice of America was back in the Cold War days, and our interview will be on it for as long as YouTube exists in cyberspace—where people from all over the world can see it. As the Ukrainians stockpile their rocks and sticks to fight the Russian military, Americans are sharpening their knives, loading their guns and also preparing for the inevitable failure of our own puppet politicians controlled by Putin and his Perestroika Deception.
And people like me are chomping at the bit for a chance to do more than just talk on the radio……………………………. I would love to see Putin try to ride his horse down my street with his shirt off displaying his massive stature of 5’ 2” or whatever trying to look bold and regal. He wouldn’t last long—which is why he must use the Perestroika Deception against America.
I feel sorry for people who feel this way. The reviewer simply can’t relate. They have no concept of having the kind of passion for something where sleep, rest and comfort are secondary concerns. They don’t feel those kinds of things, so they think good characters are the type of people who strive to have faults, where they work simply to eat, drink, rest, and have sex. People like that are like monkeys at a zoo looking at human visitors across a gulf of intelligence, beyond the barriers of a cage, and can’t understand why zoo visitors have drinks, and strollers, and small humans in their arms with sunglasses shielding their eyes from the sun. They are primitives, sad and left behind lost forever to faulty thinking and stupidity.
That was a comment I made to an article published on Atlas Shrugged is a Ridiculous Book posted in the Galt’s Gulch site where I have quite a few friends. I read the review linked below and thought that the author Robert Nielsen did a good job citing his opinions, that he did thoroughly read the book and made an effort to have pointed comments. I thought the author was a generally curious person of above average intelligence. However, I also thought that the author might be a radical left winged oriented socialist (Democrat) who was a staunch Keynesian and after looking into the guy a bit, that is exactly what he was. He was a European born and raised amidst the socialism of Europe and simply had no mental mechanisms that could relate to the novel Atlas Shrugged and believed that through democratic consensus that just because a majority of the population on earth does not think like the characters in Atlas Shrugged, that the book is ridiculous and should not have an audience. Nielsen had a number of opinionated passages in his article, but the one below struck me as being the most revealing.
“All of the heroes have this absurd element to them. They don’t stop to eat or rest a single time in the book and it is casually thrown in that they haven’t slept for two or three days as though that would have no effect on them. They have no hobbies or interested (sic) outside work. Even when they are bleeding they don’t feel any pain. In other words they are soulless robots, machines good for working and nothing else. Atlas Shrugged bears a strong resemblance to Fascist propaganda in its treatment of heroes. There is a strong emphasis on the cult of personality, of worshipping men of action in contrast to the masses who are too stupid and cowardly to achieve greatness. Democracy destroys accountability whereas dictatorship is the only system where anyone is responsible. All of the best firms in the book are named after their owner and collapse without them.”
Nielsen says a lot here and represents a large portion of the world who have grown up for generations under kings, princes, fascist rulers, and tyrannical dictators who to them represent the “right” on a political spectrum and democratic socialists, communists, labor unions, and religious collectivists on the other representing the “left.” Yet for me personally, I don’t even consider any of the categories on that scale relevant and long ago designated Europe and its history to be corrosive to the human experience. My ideal of a good time is not sitting in a “pub” with my mates watching a socialist soccer game and thinking that James Joyce was an intellectual giant as the benchmark of good literature. The guy could write complicated metaphors—but to what end—to be haunted by dreams of a fragmented past as in Finnegan’s Wake or to visit a brothel in Ulysses. Nielsen is from Dublin, and so was Joyce and because of my experience with those works, I feel I have a pretty good feel for life in Ireland and what it represents—and none of those things are concepts that are attractive to me.
I find it utterly disgusting that so many Americans have been bred through the education system to believe that the cities of Europe are exotic destinations of culture and sophistication. To me the entire land mass from the shores of France to the end of Russia protruding out into the Bering Strait is a corrupt embodiment and continuation of The Dark Ages. The people from those lands have been conquered and beaten so many ways by so many tyrants that the only way out of the cycle was “democracy” through majority rule. And if the majority are idiots, than so be it. Visiting a BW3’s on a Friday night disgusts me as much as it would if I were in a Dublin Pub with a bunch of socialists banging mugs of beer together in communion around a soccer match—so my feelings are not specific to Europe. And before I say any more, one of my son-in-laws is from England, just outside of London on the eastern side. My other daughter dated a guy from the boarder of Scotland. I have family members from Europe, and I deal with people almost every day in every time zone from London to New Zealand, so I have a very good understanding about the lifestyle of Europe which leaves me shaking my head when Americans seek to mimic that cold landmass with a history of oppression extending from here to the dawn of man shown in the Caves of Lascaux. America was founded by people seeking freedom from Europe and they were willing to die to leave that place. In a lot of ways the pilgrims were the original Gaultchers from Atlas Shrugged they were looking to be free of the religious and political persecution of Europe, which still exists to this very day in Keynesian economics. The thought process moved from churches into the economy but the mentality is very much the same.
Once America was founded and Europe saw that they could visit without being killed by natives, they settled the New England area and brought their stupid European socialism with them in the form of “progressivism,” and started voting for Democrats while encourage America to give up football and making “soccer” the national game…………………………..NO. In many ways Europe is still stuck under the veil of tyranny that they have been confined with since there was an Ice Age and it is utterly disgusting. Atlas Shrugged is one of the first great American novels produced under a relatively new country with a new way of thinking. Now of course the jealous European trained in the liberal schools of Ireland, England and France will scoff at the characters of Atlas Shrugged because they are clearly outside of the European experience.
In reference to many of the successful Americans that I know, it is true that if they do not come to work, or leave a company after they have led it, the company does collapse. Making money is their hobby. I remember a lunch meeting that I had in downtown Cincinnati with some very influential financiers and patent attorneys where the bill was $11,000. These guys did this every day of the week. They made their money under an American capitalist system and could not have done what they were doing in Europe because people like Robert Nielson would think that they had equal rights to that money just because their mothers gave birth to them in Dublin. The people I had lunch with had a hobby that was “making money” which is why they had it. The wealth they produced carried over into every aspect of society from the nice waitress who tended to them daily to the people who imported the food required to feed them. If those types of people didn’t show up for work one day, or decided to go on a vacation, their businesses fell apart because “the people” working for them lost focus and drifted without proper leadership. That is not fascism that is leadership. Fascism is where such a human trait is taken advantage of.
America has created its own definitions and fascism is not even an option. A business leader of an industry is not a fascist, they are a job creator. People are free to leave that job if they discover they don’t like the direction of the company. But to allow a fascist to rule over the entire nation of America—that simply isn’t going to happen. Europeans can’t wrap their mind around that ideal; it doesn’t fit with their history and their foundations of education. To them the political “right” is fascists like Mussolini and Hitler and the “left” are people like Lenin, Stalin, and Marx. America rejected all those idiots because they are collectivists, and in Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged she is introducing an entirely new way of looking at the old problems so that Americans can understand why their capitalist system is so superior to European socialism. Those in love with “democracy” (majority rule, even if a majority are fools) is to commit a political and economic structure around collectivism. In America where individualism is the foundation concept, collectivism is a curse. It is a waste of time to achieve group consensus because not everyone is capable of making proper decisions. The reason for this has been explored by Robert Pirsig in the book Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, another revolutionary work of philosophy done specifically in America. Slowly the old philosophers of Europe, people like Nietzsche, Marx, and Descartes are being replaced by Rand, Pirsig, and Adam Smith.
The characters of Atlas Shrugged are my kind of people. They represent my daily life and I do feel sorry for those who can’t relate. It must be terrible to wake up each morning in such a fog that human faults are the first area of focus. It must be terrible to even consider if “group consensus” is something to measure before taking action. I once went to Disney World with a large group and watched everyone standing in Tomorrow Land for an hour arguing about which thing to do first. Finally, I got sick of it and gathered up a crew who wanted to go with me and I left to explore the park. We had a blast because most people just want to have someone give them direction in life. They don’t want the burden of thinking, they just want to follow—and that’s fine so long as they don’t get in the way. But if they try to hold things up with indecision and personal insecurities, then it is unacceptable to me. The primary question explored in Atlas Shrugged is if the majority should be allowed to hold up the few, when it is the few who move the world, and the answer is no.
People like me do not reach out to the “democracies” of the world trying to sell Ayn Rand or Atlas Shrugged because I really don’t care if people like Robert Nielson accepts it or rejects it. I just don’t want Nielson in a position through his Keynesian economics to hold me up when I want to do something. If he wants to hang out in a Dublin pub watching soccer matches instead of being productive, that is his decision—but he does not have a right to hinder me. The point of Atlas Shrugged is that when this process happens, people like Nielson do suffer. Europe sucks…………..most everyone is stuck somewhere between fascism and communism. The topless beaches of France and Spain do not give culture to a society—it does not make them enlightened. French wine is not better than California wine and the Caves of Lascaux are representative of the same tribal collectivism as the Navajo of the American Southwest—both represent primitive collectivist cultures mired with a basic premise of tribal sacrifice. The America that took Adam Smith’s lead, and John Locke and was first commented on by Ayn Rand, then Robert Pirsig is one that exists outside of European definitions for things. It is not my task or those of my friends in Galt’s Gulch to “sell” Rand to anybody. Her books have sold for decades quite well on their own—people come to her work in their own time in their own way. The difference between a republic and a democracy is that a republic is supposed to represent different people as a representative as opposed to a democracy with majority rule. America is a republic not a filthy democracy! A group of thugs do not have a right to impose on me their beliefs just because they outnumber me. The stupid will always outnumber the intelligent—so the stupid should not have power over the intelligent. The intelligent should not be hampered by fools, lowlifes, and insecure collectivists. That is what Atlas Shrugged is essentially about and why it offendshttp://youtu.be/bWebZ_OqU_c so many people. I can understand that many people don’t like the book or the movies if they identify with the villains—nobody likes being called names. But for years in every movie and book that has attacked capitalism, they have attacked my values, which is what the artists have done to people like me—so Atlas Shrugged is art that I can relate to. I don’t expect the democratic masses to enjoy it—it wasn’t written for them.
It is sad that people like Robert Nielsen are stuck behind on an island of Keynesian economics, socialism, communism, and soccer matches over beer in 200-year-old pubs that smell like dirty feet and swamp ass stained to their wooden chairs after 50 years of use. Like monkeys stuck on an island display at a zoo designed to contain them they can only look across the void at America and wonder why we have it so good, why we have so much money, so many tools at our disposal. But they never get to the answer of why because they are lacking the intellectual tools to step across the barriers which contain them. If they knew how to swim or were not afraid of the water they could free themselves—but instead they spend their days grooming each other and beating on their chests in memory of their primitive ancestors and call those who have left them behind—cultists driven by “selfishness.” I would love to help those people, but not by coming to Europe to copy off them, to play their stupid soccer matches where the game resembles socialism with their ridiculous off-sides rules—where a forward cannot be behind a defense—give me a break! That makes for a boring game and a boring economy, and Europe has both. Atlas Shrugged, an American story, is about productivity, individualism, innovation, and the corruption of the masses and their need for leadership. John Galt is certainly not the next European fascists. He is beyond that kind of thinking—he is all about total independence where individuals are not compelled into imprisonment by the weakest links of society—because those weak links chose to be stupid, perilous, or otherwise reckless with their lives—then expect others to shield them from reality through collectivism. Atlas Shrugged philosophically is a divorce from Europe, and obviously in such divorces there are hard feelings and one side will always try to make the other look bad. But in the end, Atlas Shrugged is a change in thinking that the spouse left behind resents and in this case it is Europe and all its faulty past. Robert Nielsen might feel the chill of abandonment and call after their former lover with disdain and envy, but the merit is rooted in jealousy. The proclamation that some people, some economies, and some ideals are better than others, and that people who love Atlas Shrugged are willing to go off and do their own thing is a reality that the European and the Americans who love the dank culture of that haze covered land is simply too much to comprehend.
Atlas Shrugged is about a new way of thinking where the roots of productivity are not explored through mystical hocus pocus balancing limited resources against equal distribution to the world. It is about what makes resources in the first place so that new things can come to be which ultimately benefit everyone. The question must first be asked, who is responsible for productivity—is it the democratic masses or the few who possess leadership and ability? My trip to Disney World is confirmation that Atlas Shrugged is the only artistic work to properly identify the answer. At the end of that day, a majority of the people in the argument of what to do were still there. They had simply sat down at a few tables and ate food most of the day stuck in inaction driven by their indecisiveness. Me and my group, we rode Pirates of the Carribean—5 times, road the Thunder Mountain Railroad, did the Swiss Family Robison Tree House, saw a number of shows including the Presidents Showcase, ran all over Tom Sawyer Island, did everything in Fantasy Land, shopped, road Space Mountain—3 times and still had time to do more. The rest of the group had not even left Tomorrow Land except to get a place on Main Street to watch the fireworks. That is what has happened to Europe and every single Keynesian economist and every political socialist. They are still stuck in the politics of Europe and are chained to its dismal fate where America has moved on. The philosophy of that “moving on” is chronicled in Atlas Shrugged and is only growing as more and more of those monkeys on the zoo island learn to swim and discover a big bright world outside of their intellectual confinement.
Barack Obama has done a lot of really dumb things during his presidency and has shown himself to be a real novice when it comes to leadership. Obama is the premier reason that an unproven senator rather than a vetted state governor or a military general should have nothing to do with The White House. For those who foolishly voted for this fledgling idiot, the Percival of American politics, the video below is for you. What they thought they were getting in 2008 when they cast their votes for the openly socialist community organizer from Chicago with direct ties to domestic terrorists, FBI tracked communists and a mother who slept her way around the world, was far from a savor. The grim reality of their stupidity is self-evident. Six years later, most of them are discovering what the woman in the following video have—which is reflected in the current poll numbers in 2014.
As I have documented I have been employed just about everywhere and done everything in virtually every capacity. I have been at the very top and I have cleaned toilets—sometimes all at the same time. I have worked on multiple occasions 24 straight hours and then some and done just about every kind of job that human beings have created. At every place I have ever worked and all of the thousands of people I have worked with over the years, all of them with equal access to this site and the words I publish and can confirm if they wish to—because not a single one of them ever outworked me in all my years of productivity. I have always been “that guy” who excelled and strove to do more, get more done, and outwit competitors with cleverness, aptitude, and sheer willpower. What President Obama has declared with his diabolical executive order is that every other worker behind me has been equal to my efforts—the slug who sits in the break room too long, the imbecile who goofs off during the job too much, and the general bench warmer who can now sit at their computer while on salary and play on Facebook being unproductive during their normal work hours so they can milk the clock out and get paid for it by Uncle Government and pimp daddy Obama.
The primary reason an employer puts a worker who shows promise on salary is to avoid having to pay them overtime. For the restaurant manager who might work 65 to 80 hours a week, the owner does not want to break their budget by racking up all the overtime hours incurred by a manager, so they are put on salary to fix the costs. The motivation of the owner to the manager is to convince such people of responsibility to be more efficient with their time and to learn to delegate so that they don’t have to do all that work themselves. But if they chose to work the extra hours they’ll do it at their cost. For instance, if one of their restaurant employees calls off and there is nobody around to do the job, the manager is often stuck having to cover—and since they are on salary it will likely be free work to them. This will cause the manager to hire better people so that they won’t have to do such things. With this new overtime rule by Obama and his gang of government thugs, the manager won’t want to hire another person to delegate to, because they will want to do the job themselves to milk out overtime. Only idiots who have never managed anything at any point in their lives would think that such a communist concept could work in a productive society.
In my personal experience Obama has just declared with his ridiculous executive order that all the misfits, low-lifes, and lazy losers I have worked with in the past were equal to me—and that is just an insult. Compared to me, nobody does equal work for equal pay, because nobody puts the same level of effort into a task. Only a complete idiot with no work experience would believe such a thing, and this is confirmation that Obama and all the socialist knuckle draggers in Washington D.C. are clueless as to what makes an economy tick, and now they have increased the burden on American productivity, not lessened it.
Anyone who has had to manage hourly workers knows that because of the overtime laws created during the “Red Decade” where communism was being openly advocated by the high levels of society in The United States that the Fair Labor Standards Act of 1938 required most workers to be paid overtime in an effort to shuffle profits into the pockets of the common worker. Salaried managers were tasked to combat the kind of waste this created by making sure that most of the work needed by a company was obtained within a 40 hour work week. Without such management hourly workers typically stand at their jobs and string out their tasks so that they can obtain 5 to 15 hours of overtime a week supplementing their income. In union shops this is an epidemic problem which has ultimately destroyed their competitive swagger in the world. The federal government never had a right, or an obligation to determine what was “fair” for a worker in their relationship with an employer. The cost of their intrusion has been productivity.
I have worked for employers who were idiots, and they sought to take advantage of me at every turn. When I discovered this, I either moved on to someplace else, or I worked the situation to my advantage which is fair play. Never have I turned to government to protect me from an employer. It was always my task to handle that myself as it is for everyone. While it’s true that not everybody is so ambitions, they should be……and they will never yearn to be so long as they are compensated by government for work that they aren’t doing in an attempt to equalize their pay and benefits. This attempt at “fairness” by the Obama administration is one of the most obvious validations of their sheer ignorance and lack of worldly knowledge—at understanding what makes a person productive and what inspires them to sit on their ass. This new executive order will encourage a lot more ass sitting and much, much less productivity because now those with management power on salary can milk out a clock too, and will be far less likely to manage hourly workers who desire at every turn to do the same. This is the most foolish thing I have ever seen done by a politician……………which says a lot.
It is a personal insult to me to give workers who don’t put in the same effort that I do, equal pay. It inspires me to work less, not more—and those like me who work hard will decide to shrug off that effort since the government has made inferior employees equal. And that is the source of the problem because if the truly productive stop working hard, what is there that moves an economy……………….some proletariat worker? Give me a break!
Let me deal with two birds here with one stone, the sad story recently at Lakota where a student was thrown in jail for bringing a gun to school and the really stupid idea of putting a roundabout at the corner of Maud Hughes Road and Millikin. I explained yesterday my thoughts about the student with the gun and alluded to a school shooting which I had been involved in and promised to tell a story I had from personal experience. I will do that now, and tie it in to what motorists can expect to witness as they travel through the South East portion of the upcoming roundabout. Many years ago during my junior year at Lakota a car load of boys came to a stop at that exact spot in a car riddled with bullets. The driver of that car died of a gunshot wound to the head, and I was on the other end of the tragedy and will explain the why and how in relation to the current situation. The media turned the issue into a circus, I was considered to be a dangerous gang leader and modern real life version of the West Side Story. Ballistics experts had conspiracy theories about how such an expert shot could have been made, and a manhunt ensued with a door to door search across the entire region. And of course there was supernatural assistance which confirms to me the very existence of otherworldly entities which many would call God. So brace yourself for a hair rising tale and an all too true story of honor, death, and supernatural activity as we jump into the most tragic story known surrounding the hauntings of Screaming Bridge.
But first I have to talk about roundabouts. They are very European and a real pain in the ass. I hate them because they impose too many restrictions on driving. They are fine for the saggy assed Europeans and their unshaved arm pits, their bad breath, and their political socialism because those idiots don’t have anywhere they really need to be since most of them get a month of government paid vacation each year. They are never in a hurry to get anywhere. Here in America, where we are productive and driving along a stretch of road like Millikin enjoying the countryside at about 50 to 60 mph, we don’t want to slow down to 20 mph to deal with a dumb roundabout where some indecisive soccer mom chick imported from New England is blocking our right of way. So since the Trustees of Liberty Township want to adopt all these Agenda 21 oriented “development designs” and won’t listen to reason, then they can drive right through the ghostly apparitions of at least one of the ghosts that hang out in and around Screaming Bridge which is just a few yards south of that location. Out of all the urban legends centering around Screaming Bridge, I know at least one of the tragic stories is true–because I was there.
Read more about Screaming Bridge and the upcoming roundabout at these links:
It was early January at the current Lakota West Freshman building and three guys were picking on some girls who were sitting near me. I’ve told stories before of my experience at Lakota. I had a group of kids who sat with me at lunch who were considered social misfits and were extremely rebellious. I had a reputation for being extremely daring and one of the lunch time games had been to throw food at the Lakota administrators who stood guard around the parameter of the cafeteria during every lunch period. I would often wail large chunks of food at them right in front of everyone witnessing. Most of the time I was very obvious about throwing food at them daring the administrators to do something. Of course their inaction prompted me to do it more, and more audaciously. So I had a reputation to manage when these three boys who had a history for being tough guys started picking on a girl sitting next to me. The boys were very tall for their age and were known to fight often. One of them picked up the coat of one of the girls and tossed it on the floor so he could sit in that particular seat to impress another girl who was within that group of young ladies. The girl who had her coat thrown to the ground protested. One of the boys proceeded to call her very grotesque names. I looked to the Lakota administrator who I had been tossing mashed potatoes at and he showed no signs of doing anything about it, so I injected myself on behalf of the girl. I told the kid to pick up the coat. The boy gave me a smart assed answer as he picked it up and put it back which evolved into a small war between my group and his group for the next week where we had a food fight which escalated over the ensuing weeks. Of course when food fighting lost its effectiveness we turned to games of strength, where I ended up punching a cafeteria plate shattering it into hundreds of pieces. The plates were those old hard plastic types which were extremely hard. When I punched the plate, the center broke away showering my friends and the targets of my aggression with debris. But the rim of the plate stayed intact and badly cut up my fist requiring plastic surgery to fix.
There wasn’t anywhere to go from there but into an actual fight off-site away from Lakota. When the boys saw how far I’d take things they got a little scared. It was their suggestion to fight and none of them wanted to fight me one on one, so they proposed that I fight three of their guys all at the same time at Screaming Bridge on Maud Hughes Road. I accepted once my hand healed up in about 6 weeks and could again make a fist–because I had on a splint which prevented my hand from closing.
At the end of February 1985 Nightmare on Elm Street was playing at the Showcase Cinemas in Springdale and I made arrangements with the guys I was fighting to finally meet at the Screaming Bridge at 10:30 PM. Over the weeks leading up to the event, things cooled down between my group and their group. They were obviously nervous about what to expect out of me. They knew the stories, but were confident that three of them would be enough to emerge successfully from the fight. But they had in mind precautions which were leaked to me by one of the boy’s girlfriends who had a crush on me at the time. She told me that her boyfriend had plans to bring weapons to the fight and were going to set up booby traps on the hillside which was very steep leading from Maud Hughes Road down to the railroad tracks below. Supposedly ghosts screamed at night from there and satanic rituals routinely were conducted to car stereos blaring Ozzie Osborn music. She begged me not to go, but of course I had to. She warned me that they planned to push me down the hill into the booby traps which would be seriously harmful; some of them were jagged toothed bear traps that could take off a leg. Other traps would include spikes angled to penetrate right through a body falling down the hill killing them. The traps would be constructed based on a Vietnam War guerilla warfare manual.
I made plans of my own. My friends all wanted to go to the fight to watch me combat the three guys. It was the talk of the school for that whole Friday. The next day on a Saturday it was agreed that we’d all meet Showcase Cinema and watch Nightmare on Elm Street then head to the fight afterwards. It sounded like a fun night, go see a scary movie, go have a fight at a scary bridge full of haunted folklore, and have a good bit of fun doing it. My plan was to take care of business then enjoy the evening with some girls that we’d pick up at the movie. We’d go in two cars, I’d have my entourage in my car and some of my other friends would arrive by pickup truck meeting me at the fight. On my side there were about ten spectators, five in my car, and five who would come by truck.
Little did I know but the previous weekend I had been visiting another set of young ladies at a nearby neighborhood and a friend of mine in a bizarre act of spontaneity ran next door to a neighbor’s house and attacked a semi truck that was parked there. The big truck had a grill guard that my friend stabbed several times with a knife simulating what effect it would have on a human body. I managed to calm him down after a while. He was trying to impress the girls we were with, and to a large extent, it worked. But when we left the girls house, the owner of the truck had been watching through his window and took down my license plate number when he saw my friend who had done the vandalizing get into my car. Screaming Bridge was only a about a mile and a half from this location and I thought often though-out the evening about the fight that would take place there the following week.
A week later while at the movie, I found some girls to meet up with after the fight, it was a group of five girls, one for each of the occupants of my car. In the trunk of my car were weapons I had brought just in case things got out of hand at the fight later. I of course had my bullwhip, but there were various clubs, knives, a medieval ball and chain along with a number of other melee weapons also there. I was very specific to both groups, the group who would drive with me, and my friends arriving in the truck later, not to bring any guns. If things went bad, we didn’t want to the temptation to pull any triggers. The goal was just to hurt the kids, not to kill them. The goal was to teach them a lesson, and that was all.
After the movie I made arrangements to meet up with the girls after the fight. They didn’t want to go to Screaming Bridge after watching Nightmare on Elmstreet, so agreed to meet us at a local Perkins around midnight once I took care of business. My friends were pumped up to watch a good fight and I was getting revved up now that the fight was about 30 minutes away. We headed out to my car ready for war yelling at the top of our lungs the way boys do when they are getting themselves worked up for a difficult task. But to my surprise, my entire family was waiting in my car for the movie to end and for me to return. They knew I was going to the movies, and apparently the police were looking for me. So my parents and siblings came where they knew I’d be. They had opened the trunk to my car and saw my whip and all the other weapons in there and they wanted to know what was going on.
I tried to explain that the weapons were nothing, but there was a more pressing issue at hand. The truck driver who had his grill guard vandalized by my friend was demanding at that exact hour to see me and get a formal apology from my dad. The guy could have reported this incident to the police any time during the previous week, but he chose that exact hour—strangely. Of course none of the adults knew of the fight I had to be at when 10:30 PM hit. The timing couldn’t have been worse. It could have, and should have occurred earlier in the day, but for whatever reason, the police and the truck owner wanted to talk to me at exactly that specific time.
I was very upset for reasons my parents had no clue of. My mom took my friend’s home while my dad drove me and the friend who had done the vandalism to the house of the truck driver to try to convince him not to press charges. We were driving down Princeton Road and past the intersection of Maud Hughes at exactly 10:26, four minutes from the time that I was supposed to be at the fight. I could see the truck lights of my friends going up the road at exactly the time I told them to be there. It was odd again that out of all times of the day, it was right at that exact moment.
We arrived at the truck driver’s house for a meeting arranged by the police. My friend apologized to the guy, and we spoke for a bit. The guy was reasonable and understood what it was like to be a young person. We had a nice talk. Off in the distance we heard what sounded like fireworks going off. I was very upset about being late to the fight and was very worried that my reputation would be reflected poorly in missing the event. As we sat there I was scheming for a way to get away and sneak over to the fight because the disgrace in missing it would be too much come Monday morning. While my dad and the truck driver finished their discussion my friend and I were standing out in the driveway by the car and we heard sirens ringing all over the countryside. We anticipated that a major wreck had occurred somewhere to the North, and it sounded serious because there were a lot of police cars.
The rest of my evening was trying to explain to my parents what had been going on with the vandalism issue, and trying to explain the weapons in my trunk. The next morning I was glum, I had missed the fight which I’d never hear the end of, and I missed meeting the girls I met at the movie theater. It had been a bad night. I had to work during that following Sunday, so I left quietly and wondered why there were strange cars parked off the side of the road close to my driveway with government plates. There were several, and since I lived in the country, this was a very strange sight.
The boys I was supposed to fight had been found in a car at the corner of Maud Hughes and Millikin all shot up. The driver had been killed with an expert sniper shot that came across the field and struck him in the side of the head passing in front of the other two passengers who were both in the front seat. And my name was all over the police radio. I had to work the day shift at the Emperor’s Wok Chinese restaurant on Chester Road that morning for the church crowd and the owner called me into his office where he kept a police radio on. My name was all over the reports as the prime suspect in the murder of a Lakota student. The trouble for the police—they were with me at the time of the shooting—so it couldn’t have been me. God works in mysterious ways. Suddenly missing the fight and the meeting with the girls was not so important, and a new level of concern moved through me. My friends who were meeting me at the fight were now missing. A manhunt ensued.
Their side of the story is well documented by court records, and it was really a tragedy for everyone involved. My friends had arrived at the fight and found that I was not there. The boys I was set to fight were already at Screaming Bridge and told my friends that they had killed me, and pushed me down the hill. This panicked my friends and one of them had brought a rifle, even though I said not to. He shot at the boys as they got in their car to flee the scene. My friends chased them down pelting them with gunfire. My friends thought they were defending me. They didn’t know that the police had already picked me up for another incident. They thought I was at the bottom of the hill in a bloody heap at the hellish Screaming Bridge where the mood of the area was not conducive to logic. The boys I was supposed to fight should have never poured gasoline on that fire, but that was a hard lesson for everyone involved.
As my friends chased down the car of the fleeing antagonists the guy who brought the rifle kept firing riddling the car with gunfire. As the car turned north on Millikin Road a chance shot flew through the passenger side window and in front of the faces of two of the three boys. The bullet hit the driver in the exact spot that a professional sniper would have aimed for which led to the rumors of a professional hit which I had supposedly organized. The reality wasn’t quite so dramatic. My friends didn’t want to kill the kid; they just wanted to scare him in revenge for being scared themselves. The police confirmed in court that they found the traps that the girl had told me that they’d have there, and inside the trunk of the car they found lots of malicious weapons that they planned to use on me during the fight. So the prosecution didn’t have much to go on against my friends, there was intent to harm on both sides, and it was every bit as dangerous of a situation as everyone felt it was. If I had made it to the fight there is a good chance I would have been the one that caused the loss of life, and more people would have been likely harmed, so the situation came out as well as it could have.
Of course everyone felt bad for the kid who lost his life. We hated each other, but not that much. Later in a fight that one of the other kids I was supposed to fight that night found himself in at a Friday Night Lakota football game, he was ganged up on by several other kids and I came to his defense, the same way I had come to the defense of the girl the year earlier. Sure he blamed me for the death of his friend, but I still helped him when he was in trouble—because it was the right thing to do. He suffered enough and was never the same after the loss of his friend which of course nobody wanted to see happen. But a lot of people grew up a whole lot that night, and the community had to come to terms with the kind of violence that can sometimes take place between students who don’t see eye to eye on things. The Lakota administrators were completely powerless to do anything about the matter, just as they are powerless now. They can attempt to legislate away temptations of such violence, but what they end up with is watered down brainless drones in the process. The cost of people’s ambition and will to live are not worth sacrificing just so that tragedies like the one described are avoided. It is obvious to me the hand of God in whatever form one wishes to apply, was at play, because of the strange coincidences that really defy reasonable logic. I don’t believe in tampering with such hands. Fate has to play out the way we carry out our decisions with one another in order to have authentic results.
The recent Lakota student thrown in jail the way he was violated him in many ways. Likely he was in a similar situation as I often found myself in, and he was either the provoker, or the victim, but he was doing what he was doing to act in accordance with his nature. Lakota imposed on that process by stepping in to prevent it so to adhere to a value judgment of society which is afraid of such raw emotion, and is going to great lengths to micromanage thought so to prevent such episodes of violence. They will even go to the extreme of numbing people’s minds so that everyone stays compliant. They don’t care if they ruin people’s thoughts so long as they don’t kill each other on Saturday nights. The value to the institution is the life of everyone even if the result of that life is a numbed down version of their full potential. The big difference with me is that I never allowed myself to become compliant, or brain-dead. I have never sought destroying my mind with intoxicants, so my approach to these kinds of problems are often raw. The result was that I met these boys in the Lakota cafeteria with the full potential of my nature and I had a lot of people willing to follow me into the bowls of Hell—as I still do—because of it. This ability can be used for good or evil. I use it for good as I define good, and that definition does not come from institutional parameters, but from my own life understanding forged by such experiences.
A Lakota student died that night meeting me for a fight that brewed for most of the 1985 winter. I don’t mean anything against his name when I say that there wasn’t anything about that night that I’d take back. A lot of people suffered, it was tragic, but it was authentic and part of a bunch of intersecting lives fighting for their definition of good. For me, defending good was in honoring the right of the girl in the cafeteria not to have her coat thrown on the ground. Was that worth the death of a young boy, or the voluminous amounts of money spent in legal fees—in my world it was. Because right is right, and it is through conflict that we discover merit when the tapestries of society seem inclined to hide it from us. Because of that night and the obvious work from God’s hand in protecting me just enough to let me see the events play out, a tremendous wisdom was given to me which I use to this very day. I was intimately close to the situation without being pulled so far in that I would be lost to legal nightmares forever. I have taken the lessons of that night and done countless good with the lessons. I consider the situation very valuable. I could have done like everyone else and said nothing when the boys bullied the young girl. If I had nobody likely would have died, my hand wouldn’t have been reconstructed by plastic surgery, my friends wouldn’t have been tarnished for life, the lives of the people I was set to fight wouldn’t have been haunted for the rest of their lives and the terrible pain their families have felt all along in the loss could have been avoided. At that time I had just been elected Vice President of the Dan Beard Council because of my work in the Boy Scouts of America’s Explore Post activities for all of Cincinnati. Once my name was associated with the death of a Lakota student, they banned me from further activity which was a terrible cost to me, because I enjoyed that activity. But it was still worth telling the kid to pick up the girl’s jacket and respect her—because he did forever after—at least for the next couple of months. But others had been watching, and knew that disrespecting young ladies, at least while I was around, was not acceptable and I would not put up with it.
Lakota administrators weren’t there protecting the rights of the girl. They were too cowardly to keep me from throwing mashed potatoes at them staining their suits with my lunch on a daily basis. They weren’t then, and are even less now in any kind of position to take a moral stand on anything because the goal of all such activity at places like Lakota are to save lives—not to help create value for those lives. The government institution believes that lives are valuable until of course we are talking about abortion, or the molestation of children, or the sex trade, then they are powerless to offer an opinion because all they care about is that they can manipulate public support for their endeavors, and they can only do that so long as they pack up their mindless students onto a bus and ship them back to their parents at the end of the day brain drained and ill prepared for the future. But at least those kids are alive—by the technical definition. Their heart is pushing blood through their bodies. They do not value life as I do focusing on brain activity being more important than the blood that pours through it. I see every day the corpses of a thousand souls standing in line at the grocery, or showing their friends the latest rare stone quarried out of the blood mines of Africa. Sure their bodies live, but their minds are dead and places like Lakota kill them. Sure they will damn my name for playing a part in the death of a Lakota student, and that event will always trail behind me like many other stories have over time, but I can promise that I have seen lives benefit greatly from their own authenticity, something that I have always pushed to experience. Sometimes you find yourself on the wrong side of the law, or on what’s right such as in the case of the guy who had the semi truck damaged by my friend showing off for some girls. But when I spoke to the guy, he wanted what was right, and when he met me face to face and saw my sincerity, he found we had more in common than not.
The fight at Screaming Bridge in Liberty Township, Ohio at the end of February in 1985 was about two groups of people fighting for their interpretation of what’s right and wrong. The school did not offer the answers to the manhood questions we were asking. So we had to find those answers ourselves. I chose the path of being a daring rebel against authority. The boys I was fighting chose to be a bully, and my friends wanted to experience fearlessness through my actions, so they tagged along closely, and sometimes did things I would never think to do, like vandalize a truck not so much to impress a bunch of girls, but me—to show me how bold they were. The gunshots where probably done for the same reason once primordial motives are ascertained beyond conventional explanation.
The reason we picked Screaming Bridge as the place to fight was because it was thought to be haunted and where else would such a confrontation take place. Young boys want to know that they can go into the mouth of our darkest fears and face the demons there. So while we were fighting each other, we were testing ourselves at the same time, which was the real cause of the fight. I had fought more than one person at the same time on several occasions, but I wanted to do it against guys that were bigger than I was, probably meaner, and I wanted to do it at a place known for demonic practice where even the demons of Hell would be fighting against me. With all those emotions present and the added fear of the place in general, it proved to be too much for the people who came to watch me fight that night without me there to calm their minds with action. But all said, if the hand of God had not interfered so obviously, the death toll would have been far greater, and the impact to the community, much more devastating. God doesn’t come down out of the clouds to sit on our shoulder providing a defined entity that we can often see and touch. But I will never forget the timing of driving by Maud Hughes Road and seeing the tail lights of my friends going to the fight toward a destiny that would turn out to be tragic, while in the company of the police who wanted my head nailed to a platter for an entirely different reason, and would otherwise want to throw me in jail in seconds once the shooting took place. It is in such murky stories like this entry into Screaming Bridge and the folklore of Liberty Township that it is obvious to me that God defends the good even when the ways are not easily defined by the misery present by destruction and mayhem.
When the stupid roundabout is built on Millikin Road cars traveling through the South East portion of that circle will pass through the spot where the bullet riddled car came to a stop. It is the resting place of the guy I was supposed to fight that night which ended straying off the road by a freakish bullet strike. For years I have driven past that intersection and wondered if his ghost was there mixing with the other area hauntings. One would hope that such spirits could move on and not be stuck in a tyrannical limbo, but you never know, especially under the circumstances. I always knew that the car had stopped off the side of the road and not in the path of Millikin Road traffic. Now, with the new roundabout, the road will carry vehicles right through the resting place of that terrible incident. Since history is often forgotten by the next generation and politicians who have no problems building homes on top of tombstones and old Indian graves—and in Liberty Township, this has happened a lot—the mysteries of ghostly apparitions and minor hauntings are something to be concerned about. Now, because of the new roundabout, we won’t be able to speed through that intersection any longer, but will have to slow down and pass right through the spot where the occurrence transpired. So it will surely add one more layer to the deep mysteries and sometimes haunted past of Liberty Township, Ohio, and the occasional terrible things that happen even when the intentions are good and we all find ourselves actors on a stage play of God’s drama.
The fascination people have with Aleister Crowley is the direct result of the modern push for legalized drug use, open and same gender sex, destroyed family values, superstitious religious rituals and a number of ailments that we are suffering from in the modern age. In addition to calling himself The Beast, Crowley was a communist. He was so feared that Crowley was banished from Italy by the fascist Mussolini for extreme acts of depravity, and called by his English countrymen as “the most wicked man in the world.” He was a practitioner of sex magic, in which he used massive orgies to invoke the favor of the gods, so to appease them for good fortune. Barbara Bush’s mother hung out with Crowley in Paris, and was likely to have been involved in these bizarre sex rituals. Crowley has directly influenced music artists like Jimmy Page, John Lennon and Jay Z—which is just the tip of the iceberg—and he touched the lives of Jack Parsons and L.R. Hubbard just prior to the creation of Scientology. Hubbard and Parson brought Crowley’s bizarre sex rituals to Pasadena, California through the Cal Tech rocket program and entered the film industry in a big way which is still present to this very day many years after Crowley’s death in 1947. Those influences only grew over time leading directly to the counter-culture movement of the 1960s colliding in California with the Beatles and Rolling Stones music, ushered into subsequent generations by Led Zeppelin. Many actors and actresses have involved themselves in the sex orgies of Parson’s OTO church directly linked to Aleister Crowley. If you have attended a rock concert and lifted your shirt to the musicians on the stage, you have participated just a little in a long-term plan hatched by Crowley at the turn of the 20th Century—and you likely didn’t have any idea. Aleister Crowley has likely touched every life in the world through the high-profile connections he made throughout his life and global travel that had the single-minded purpose of spreading evil to every human being behind a mask of individual freedom.
Crowley wasn’t evil because he was so damaged by his father’s death at a young age that he turned away from God and sought a path to evil. He was evil because he purposely sought to sell himself as an extreme individualist inspired by the writings of Nietzsche yet used dark arts to invoke direct help from the spirit world to help him in the world of the living. His “magick” is a kind of crony capitalism where industrialists look to government to pad their investments from competition—Crowley looked to pad fate and fortune to the acts of the ultraterrestrials—and in many ways he was successful in doing so. Crowley let into the human world a number of dark enemies to life as we know it, and they are loose in the world as we speak. So to understand this mess, we must start at the beginning with an organization that many modern rappers are wearing on their clothing and has deep roots into turn of the century literature—Crowley’s first real membership into a group which predates the progressive movement, the communist influx into America, or even his enormous influence into the Thelema religion.
To understand properly the progressive influence of modern-day America it has become obvious that a full understanding of this deeper, darker secret finally be revealed for what it is. Victorian culture, especially in New England was deeply in love with the “Cambridge Intellectuals” from their home country of England and the membership that William Butler Yeats and Aleister Crowley had with a mysterious secret society. They yearned to be thought of as members of the Golden Dawn, even if they didn’t completely understand it. They did like many people do—they played along with the latest and greatest explorations into philosophical experimentation which would eventually give birth to socialism and communism as natural byproducts of these early experiments into the “Golden Dawn.”
In 1896 or 1897, Westcott broke all ties to the Golden Dawn, leaving Mathers in control. It has been speculated that his departure was due to his having lost a number of occult-related papers in a hansom cab. Apparently, when the papers were found, Westcott’s connection to the Golden Dawn was discovered and brought to the attention of his employers. He may have been told to either resign from the Order or to give up his occupation as coroner.[16] After Westcott’s departure, Mathers appointed Florence Farr to be Chief Adept in Anglia. Dr. Henry B. Pullen Burry succeeded Westcott as Cancellarius—one of the three Chiefs of the Order.
Mathers was the only active founding member after Westcott’s departure. Due to personality clashes with other members and frequent absences from the center of Lodge activity in Great Britain, however, challenges to Mathers’s authority as leader developed among the members of the Second Order.[17]
Compared to the Thelema followers of Crowley’s much later society, the rituals of the Golden Dawn were comparatively mild—likely to be more what was seen in the Kubrick film referred often at this site—Eyes Wide Shut. A surprising number of people were involved not all of them sinister—but looking for an advantage in life granted by the gods. For people who have went to a casino and blew on some dice hoping that “the gods” would grant them fortune with a victory in the roll, what the people in the Golden Dawn society were doing was very similar. They sought to appease the gods of the spirit world no matter where they came from hoping for an advantage in obtaining more power on earth. It may have been simple luck in building a legal practice, or a medical firm—it may have been to obtain security for their industrial concerns—whatever the endeavor—they were looking for a helping hand by appeasing spirits to assist them and they turned to the Golden Dawn to achieve it.
The Golden Dawn never really went away—but it is making an extreme comeback coming out of secret society mode and into the light of day. Recently R&B singer Ciara, displayed in one of her videos a rather extreme support of the order. It is unlikely that Ciara has much of any idea what goes on in the Golden Dawn other than some sex parties and heavy drug use—but her agents, producers, and other handlers who help her market herself steered her in the proper direction hoping that such actions will bring their efforts good luck from the gods.
It’s all a lot of nonsense—but what these crazy supporters of Aleister Crowley have in common are political beliefs rooted in collectivism—socialism, Marxism, and out-right communism but deeper than those are beliefs in collective salvation through the act of sacrifice—sacrifice of goodness for the benefit of the many. There is a tendency for virgin yearnings exploited for the good of a “group.” When groups of people, particularly in Hollywood culture believe that it is profitable, virtuous, or otherwise positive to see Miley Cyrus parade around in a sexual way onstage throwing off the innocence of her childhood with intoxicated teddy bears dancing behind her, there are subtle members of the old Golden Dawn order and Thelema members who believe that their mass ritual of virgin sacrifice which enters into the bedrooms of virtually every adolescent girl brings to them great appeasement from the gods of hidden dimension. The actions are designed on the surface to stir up trouble among the religious conservatives of Middle America and capture the minds of their rebellious teenagers into establishing their own identity. Many of these promoters appear very “libertarian” in their presentations advocating personal sexual liberty, and the ability to abuse drugs. But the real intent of their mass rituals inspired directly from the work of Aleister Crowley is to make the demons of existence shine on their actions—which they actually believe in. Behind their actions is the deep-seated old schemes of communism—or rather communal sacrifice for the greater good—in the case of Aleister Crowley—aristocratic communism where he was certainly the high priest at the front of the effort who was the center of the sex orgies that even likely involved Barbara Bush’s mother.
When Victorian society is mentioned, and the progressives which came directly from their social belief system it was communism that branched off from theoretical to political philosophy. But in regards to religion what they all shared was not a love of Christianity, Buddhism, or any peace-loving thought process describing the afterlife—but hard core human sacrifice if not literally—metaphorically through loss of innocence in a secret society called the Golden Dawn. These societies would evolve over time into the Thelema order which had a church right in downtown Pasadena, California and would infect the entertainment industry with the left leaning vileness seen today—and it all started in Europe—of course—with the Victorians of intellectual elite—and the desire of the rest of the world to live and think as they do—which is why the Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, and the Beatles helped usher in the philosophy of the Golden Dawn in ways that a bunch of robed priests and nude prostitutes could never achieve—global sacrifice and appeasement of the deepest, darkest demons of vile enterprise.
This is just an introduction. Tomorrow we will explore Ordo Templi Orientis (O.T.O.) (‘Order of the Temple of the East’ or ‘Order of Oriental Templars’) which was an international fraternal and religious organization founded at the beginning of the 20th century. Most of those members undoubtedly leaned politically toward progressive politics and because of that deserve great scrutiny now into their real motivations—as to why they support mass killings in the form of abortion, gay rights, crushing the Christian church, and drug abuse legalization as openly advocated. The actions are unquestionably evil—now you will understand why and how the dots connect from occult culture into the mainstream. Sleep well, and come back tomorrow.
The State of the Union speech was such a comedy this year—increasingly made so incrementally over time—that there was very little of it that I took seriously. The most comic parts of it are when for the whole previous year both political sides yapped negatively about each other with much rhetoric and fanfare—yet when the president arrived all those idiots from both sides lined up to shake his hand and get his autograph. When Obama finally arrived at the podium to stand in front of vice president Biden and Speaker of the House John Boehner, everyone shook hands politely and with great respect before Obama basically announced himself Emperor of America. It was hilarious because the politicians were all talk spewing forth criticisms like a Pro Wrestler. But behind the scenes, which is what the State of the Union is really all about—they are friends. They are all on the same team. They are all part of the Washington D.C. beltway and are divorced from the reality of the main streets of America. They are power-hungry, unethical, and more or less scum bags. Out of all the coverage I heard about the State of the Union, only The Blaze Radio Network articulated my feelings accurately. Listen to Doc Thompson’s hilarious broadcast covering the day after the State of the Union Address. It’s well worth the time. Grab a snack, turn off the television, and turn this broadcast on in the background and enjoy the next couple of hours.
Glenn Beck, who runs The Blaze had even more fun to share about his impressions of the State of the Union. I’m not the only one who makes frequent comparisons to the fictional film Star Wars these days—Beck saw much what I did in Obama’s speech. Obama might as well have been Emperor Palpatine from the Star Wars series. I remember when the film Revenge of the Sith hit theaters, many film critics from the left thought that the primary saga villain reflected George W. Bush’s constant lusting to start wars so to fill the pockets of Halliburton. That president was the one who brought us The Department of Homeland Security, and paved the way for all the NSA abuses we see today. But Obama far surpassed Bush with his 2014 State of the Union speech which was almost word for word what was said by Palpatine in Revenge of the Sith. Obama surely wasn’t even intending to copy the Star Wars villain—yet he did regardless. Obama’s power grab was driven by human innate desire—the desire to acquire power, and isn’t specific to Obama—but the people who put Obama in power. That was the point of the Star Wars films, and in the case of American politics on both political sides, fantasy reflects reality all too well. Watch Beck’s radio coverage on this topic.
The idiots looking for Obama’s autograph slobbering over themselves to shake the hand of the president knowing full well that the guy was planning to rule with Executive Orders paints the whole picture accurately. These guys are scum, they are addicted to power, and they are out to hurt us all. They aren’t legislating on behalf of the American people. They are a joke—and they really think so little of us that they will talk bad about the president to his face playing the media angle representing their side—then they turn around and slobber all over him hoping Obama rubs up against them in the hallway so they can die happy soldiers of solidarity.
The only–and I mean, only media outlet that even attempted to cover main street USA’s American perspective was The Blaze specifically Doc Thompson and Glenn Beck. Obama really thinks he’s a ruler—and his fellow politicians are perfectly willing to play the role. They are selling us out—every one of them. Every idiot who stood in line to shake the hand of an American Emperor contributed to the cause.
If I were there would I have shaken the President’s hand? I knew you were going to ask that question dear reader…………F**K NO! I might have politely shunned him and if he tried to force his hand into mine, I would have slapped it away. If I were invited to The White House under this president, I would not go—under any circumstances. I certainly would not stand in line to “touch” the dude.
This folly is not the fault of President Obama. It is a failure of the human condition, the desire to be led about and ruled which comes to us from the distant past when mankind was ruled over by a village chief who designated who made fires, who hunted for food, who had babies and when, and who would be sacrificed to the sun in order to keep it burning in the sky. One would hope that after several hundred thousand years of evolution the human being would have migrated away from such primitive thinking—but we haven’t. The slack-jawed idiots of Congress, the wishy-washy Senator, and the many guests drooling from the gallery were mostly enamored by the grace of America’s symbol of an Emperor—the one who rules them all. Very, very few of the people present were there to defend the Republic of America. Those who have defended America have been label radicals, nut-cases, and right-winged extremists by those who desire to look at Obama as the embodiment of an American Emperor.
Even Bill O’Reilly from Fox News is ga-ga over Obama. He’s actually proud that he is conducting the pre-Superbowl interview with Emperor Obama. Over the last couple of weeks O’Reilly came out in favor of Obama’s minimum wage increase of $10.10 an hour. That should make the pre-interview handshake more pleasant between O’Reilly and Obama. Both guys are wealthy beyond comprehension and are clearly out of touch. O’Reilly doesn’t care where the money comes from for the small business person. He doesn’t care that all the many workers who were making $10 an hour previously will suddenly want $12 and $13 an hour for the same work because now the minimum wage is $10 driving up all wages with inflationary value all over the country. He’s just another sell-out. I still watch him—occasionally he does some good reporting–about as good as any media outlet in the mainstream does these days, but he’s still too far to the left for me.
The White House is just a building with a bunch of bricks in it. I’ve been there and was not impressed. It is a symbol of an American Republic that no longer exists—it is a ghost of its former self and looters like Obama and most of the modern-day politicians are simply using that ghost to advance their lust for power. The White House is not sacred, it is not magical, and it is not enchanting. It is just a building and the people in it are flawed human beings corrupted by the imperfections of the flesh. They are small minded—lackluster collectivists weakened by an evolution of mankind which started in villages and is still functioning from those primal yearnings. The same dust-covered tribes of hunters and gatherers who spent all their waking moments trying to appease the king or chieftain sacrificing goats to the gods of the sun and moon are the same damn fools standing in the aisle of Congress wanting to shake the hand of a puppet in Obama. The whole event was just a ceremony designed to make human beings feel “safe.” To know that their place in the universe is protected by some symbol of authority—in this case it’s Obama. In the past it was Bush, Clinton, and Reagan. In the future it will be more watered down feel-good candidates even more useless and ceremonial as human evolution regresses further year by year until the whole thing collapses.
The humor of the situation is the declaration of dictatorship that completely went over the heads of all present—except those with a mind to notice. It was for me the funniest State of the Union yet. It was like watching Hulk Hogan standing in the center of a ring challenging all comers to a battle to the death—but knowing that off the stage, all the participants were making plans to go out to dinner and roll in the wealth of their falsehoods. Taken in that context, the entire event was quite funny—and entertaining—where it used to be just sad. There was no sadness this time—because I no longer even take it serious. It’s just entertainment by actors who aren’t even good—just cheesy marionettes of global interest.
Thank goodness yet again for The Blaze and blog sites who covered the situation for what it really was……………a travesty of justice cowering in the ghost-like mist of an American Republic.
For the Superbowl this year, even though I like and admire both teams, the defense of the Seattle Seahawks, and the offense of Payton Manning on the Broncos—it is the Broncos that I will be rooting for. During the football year of 2011, Manning was forced to sit out the entire year and watch from the booth in Indianapolis as his football career appeared to be over with a neck injury that appeared irreparable. Yet Manning, with the same resiliency he shows in all of his football games was determined to never say die even when the odds were very much against him. He calmly made arrangements to have his injury fixed with stem cells returning a year later to a new team with the Denver Broncos having a strong season. The very next year, he has taken that franchise to the Superbowl—a feat they would not have achieved without him. Payton Manning singlehandedly cared the team on his back and with leadership that is very unique. He took a team that would otherwise be average—to the most coveted sports event of the entire year—a Superbowl.
There was a wonderful article on this stem cell procedure which I thought was of interest to my readers here at Overmanwarrior’s Wisdom. As my frequent readers know, I am very excited about the cures for cancer, the regenerative growth technology that is happening in the medical industry, and other exciting developments in stem cell research that are currently underway. If Manning had followed the rules in The United States dictated by the FDA, Payton would have found his NFL career over two years ago. He would not be playing in a Superbowl, and Denver would still be struggling to find an identity after their experiments with Tim Tebow.
The entirety of that article can be found at the end of this article for cross-reference but the gist of it is this–Peyton Manning, first injured his neck in a game against the Washington Redskins on October 22nd, 2006 after his helmet was ripped off by Andre Carter. Manning played relatively pain-free the next few years but reinjured the neck in 2010 and soon found himself without his characteristic arm strength. Ultimately, Manning decided to go under the knife in May of 2011 to have surgery on a herniated disk that was thought to cause the pain and weakness. In the weeks following the operation, the NFL’s most marketable player appeared to be on the road to recovery1 but he suffered another setback in the summer of 2011 necessitating a second, far more serious operation: cervical spinal fusion.2 But before he had the procedure, Peyton Manning did something truly bizarre.
Shortly before the spinal fusion, Manning travelled to Europe to have stem cells harvested from his fat tissue so they could be injected into his injured neck. Upon learning of this unusual procedure, I had two questions: 1) Why did he do this? and 2) Why was it done in Europe?
Stem cells are those undifferentiated cells that, like Daniel Day-Lewis, can seemingly turn into anything. They can be harvested from bone marrow, the umbilical cord, blood, or fat tissue – plucking them from fat happens to be technically easy and relatively painless – and through the secretion of growth factors can aid in cartilage and bone regeneration. There’s no definitive evidence that stem cell injections actually work for the kind of neck injury Peyton Manning had, so when it was leaked that the quarterback had undergone the procedure, there were more than a few skeptics.
A professor of bioethics at the Albert Einstein College of Medicine called Manning’s decision “an act of desperation” and Dr. Lawrence Goldstein, director of the stem cell program at the University of California, San Diego said, “It is impossible to know whether the ‘treatment’ will make Manning better or worse or merely financially poorer.”
Well, at age 37, Peyton Manning just had the best season for a quarterback in the history of the NFL. But was it because of the stem cells or in spite of them or unrelated entirely? It’s still unclear. Proponents of the procedure call Manning a poster child for stem cell therapy, while critics say he required a subsequent neck operation precisely because the stem cells didn’t work. (Manning has not commented.) While that argument plays out, a more interesting question remains: Why did Manning have to go to Europe for the procedure? The answer has to do with the FDA and how one defines risk.
A patient can either be consented individually (by signing a form, typically) for a medical procedure—like neck surgery—or exposed to an unconsented risk where regulatory assurances are already in place, like the FDA ensuring that your painkiller is potent, safe, and pure. But where do stem cell injections fall on the consent/risk spectrum? Is the injection of your own cells more like having a surgical procedure or more like taking a drug? Because there is no mass production or distribution involved, many doctors think the risk of stem cell injections is more like having surgery; it can only be estimated by the clinician who is providing the therapy, and it is up to the patient to weigh and ultimately accept the risk and provide consent. The FDA disagreed with this line or reasoning and in 2006 ruled that a patient’s own cells should be subject to the same regulation as mass-produced drugs. Peyton’s stem cells were essentially no different from a medication you’d pick up at the pharmacy.
The outcry from medical organizations was swift, and included critical statements from the American Red Cross and the American Society of Clinical Oncology, which objected, “in the strongest terms to FDA’s proposed regulation of stem cell transplants. This misguided proposal is unnecessary…and exceeds FDA’s legal authority…stem cell transplants are medical procedures. Their use is the practice of medicine, not the manufacturing of a drug as FDA asserts.”
The FDA’s ruling meant Peyton’s own stem cells fell under the purview of the FDA and were suddenly wrapped in red tape. To avoid any possible bureaucratic delay, he simply went to Europe to have the procedure done there. Manning didn’t have time to wait for the FDA or more testing of the procedure, he needed to get back on the field before he was too old. Now the presumptive MVP may be headed for the Super Bowl after a record-setting season. Was it because of the stem cells? Who knows, but the likelihood is that many more people—not just pro athletes, but weekend warriors—will be wanting to go to Europe to have this done, and Peyton won’t just be the face of junk pizza and DirecTV, but of an unproven medical procedure and skirting FDA regulation abroad.
The American government is killing people because of their intense regulations and causing many millions of others to be ill when they don’t need to be. The Peyton Manning story should be a lesson to us all of what kind of medical potential exists, but aren’t options because they threaten the power of the pharmaceutical lobby. As the world watches Peyton Manning in the Superbowl finalize a 2013 season remember that Manning would not be able to play that game if he had followed the recommendations of the American government and the ridiculous rules of the FDA. Look at your own aches and pains and remember the loved ones who painfully left your life through death and illness and answer your own question………………………..why?
The answer is because the FDA wants people sick—so they can stay relevant and keep everyone buying drugs at a pharmacy protecting the drug companies. The option of stem cell research threatens those drug companies by making it so that people could be healthy, instead of always sick. There is more money to be made off sick people than healthy ones.
For all those reasons……………….I am rooting for Payton Manning…………….one more time.
Dictator Obama with all his threats of using Executive Orders to bypass congress leading up to his State of the Union speech made one of the most reckless proposals a sitting president ever made. Obama proposed a mandatory minimum wage hike for all employees involved with government contracts and urged all companies everywhere no matter of economic ability to adhere to a minimum wage of $10.10. To the everyday person, more money for the same work sounds appealing—but those people have never struggled to collect payable accounts to make a payroll. What this president has just proposed is a mandatory decimation on labor margins that while have a devastating impact on the flow of business. Now, Obama has no idea why his dumb idea will be such a travesty. He thinks he’s helping people. But for a sitting president who wants to create jobs—he is clearly out of his mind—he’s just proposed a policy that will destroy them.
Of course the President and his advisers are proposing this hike in the minimum wage because of their belief in socialism. They don’t believe that the “greedy” business owner has a “right” to the profits of their endeavors. They believe that all people from the simple laborer to the CEO are “equal.” They believe that everyone should show up for work each day and play their roles at their places of business, take their pay at the end of the week, and live their “middle-class” lives under the rule of people like Obama and his government bureaucrats. But—their view of the world is severally flawed because it does not incorporate the most important ingredient into hiring a staff—potential.
Not all employees are equal. Some are better than others, and not all people are worth the same money. It doesn’t matter if people are white, black, purple, yellow, green males females or some combination in between—what does matter is whether or not employees have gumption—drive—and a sense of quality in their lives. The worker who makes silly fart jokes during an entire shift is not worth the same amount of pay as the worker who is always looking to stay busy and pushing themselves to advance by learning more. The worker who does not have the personal ambition to try to be a better person is not worth the same as the person who tries every day to go to bed at night better than they were when they woke up.
Obama’s minimum wage increase with the stroke of an Executive Order—bypassing congress ignores this basic premise in hiring practices and makes American productivity less competitive because the weak and un-ambitious are now getting a raise which they don’t deserve. This incentivizes companies who might consider doing business in America to take their endeavor to India, China or Malaysia where employees will work for very little money-making doing business in those countries much more appealing than in The United States.
Obama has artificially created value with his stupid little pin and his foreign Jakarta education that will guarantee wealth redistribution not from the rich and the poor in America but from The United States to third world countries many of them plagued by socialism and communism. China is a communist country………..in spite of Hong Kong being the freest city on earth. By forcing companies to push back against this minimum wage law, Obama wants those companies to relocate to poor economic regions where cheap labor resides. Isn’t it obvious? Government cannot create value—or jobs, yet Obama’s reckless attempt in spite of the good intentions are just further ignorance of his economic ignorance. Where value is created artificially the bad are rewarded while the good are penalized. The good is the productive worker, or the actual job creator. The bad is the lackluster human being who just wants to do the minimum in life, get their pay check, and buy a six-pack of beer. Many of those same stupid people are currently paying more taxes than they need to on their IRS forms so that they can get a $3000 check back in the spring because they are incapable of saving money. As they file their taxes they already have their money spent planning vacations, new computer purchases, and fancy dinners. Once the money is spent by May they will be broke until the following year waiting for their tax returns once again. Those are the dumb asses who will benefit from the minimum wage increase—not the frugal, diligent worker who may have worked hard every day for years and is currently making $10 to $11 an hour on a general labor position. Now Obama has given the less than efficient worker an equal status forcing an employer to decrease their margins—which many won’t be able to do—it will be easier to just take their operation out of America where labor is cheaper.
When the terrorists of 9/11 attacked the World Trade Center in New York City in 2001, they intended to attack America’s symbol of economic power. They hoped to bring down the American economy—and for the most part their act was successful. America handcuffed themselves in reaction for over a decade after. But Obama as performed a much more effective terrorist attack that was undoubtedly hatched long ago with his friendships with the American terrorists Bill Ayers and Michelle’s law office buddy, Bernadine Dorn. With the stroke of a pin, Obama has done much more to destroy the American economy than run a plane into some buildings. He has attacked American business directly—with an Executive Order—and a philosophy bred by socialism—and all the failures that follow in its wake.
This minimum wage law is not about being “fair.” It is about wealth redistribution not even from the rich to the poor but from one country to other countries suffering from economic depravity because of their commitment to social collectivism. To be a strong country, it takes work, innovation, and effort. Americans aren’t just born, they are made. By raising the minimum wage, Obama takes money from those who have worked, innovated and put forth effort and gives it to those who have not. He also destroys the next generation of Americans by rewarding the lazy incentivizing more people to be more so. Why should employees work harder if the good are paid to be bad? The answer is that they shouldn’t. Yet that is what’s happening, and the reason is more than just a thinly veiled attempt at fairness. It is a form of terrorism intended to drain the wealth of one nation into others—and that is why it’s a crime, not a good tiding designed to do good. It is sinister for all that will result and the evil was ushered in with cheers and fanfare……….as it always is.
After listening to Meryl Streep attack Walt Disney while honoring Emma Thompson’s rabid feminism, it does not surprise me that many men these days seem to prefer the stinky exit of the human body’s digestive system as opposed to a heterosexual relationship with these modern “man hating females.” But I am not one of those guys. Even the vilest feminist is a better option in my book. As progressives would label such a position “homophobic” I would call it sanity, clarity in thinking, and the best option available. Some people have phobias of spiders, some of snakes, some of heights—mine has and always will be that of the poop particle. I have one real fear out all possible fears and that is of the remnants of material left over after the digestive process. I have never liked seeing cow patties on my grandfather’s farms, I hate watching dogs defecate—and worse yet—eat it—and I have absolutely no desire to ever pursue an orifice that creates such matter in pursuit of sexual pleasure. With that hatred of poop particles in mind, this educational film from the late 1950s reflects my impression of the “homosexual.”
We live in a society where declaring that sex which involves fecal matter is healthy, proper, and naturally good. If anyone disagrees they are called a “homophobe.” This behavior has paved the way for the child raped by his teacher in Michigan. CLICK TO REVIEW. Likely, that teacher wouldn’t have even been a teacher in the type of society ran by those who made the homosexual video above, as that society would have spotted his antics in the light of day. As things are today, nobody is comfortable calling out any kind of homosexual behavior that might lead to abusing children, because they don’t want to be attacked by progressives calling them “homophobes.” In 2014 that is nearly as bad as being called a “sexist.” If you don’t support feminism, you are a “sexist.” If you don’t support poop particle sex, you are “homophobic.” Both carry a social stigma created by a progressive establishment and those types are directly at fault for creating scenarios where teachers like the one in Michigan have the ability to destroy the lives of his students. The fault is squarely on their shoulders.
As much as progressives hate the naivety of the 1950s and all the times that came before it where tradition and family value paved the way for strong healthy lives—the world they have created is far, far worse. Can anybody in their right mind declare that feminism has worked? Can anybody declare that the Michigan teacher was not mentally insane because of his sexual prerogative? Can anybody think that Meryl Streep would be a fun date? Progressives have created these problems, and they suppress a value judgment against them by calling sane people names for trying to identify the problem. At least there was a time in America where bad behavior was identified and a warning to future conduct was attempted. It may have been fear based, it may not have encompassed the entire enormity of the homosexual complexity—but at least a social norm identified for the benefit of a majority of the population was considered. At least children were getting a warning of what to look out for among perverted adults. Back in the “old fashioned” days, such people hid their behavior. Today they run labor unions and make decisions right out in the open.
The way society is today people who might otherwise warn children away from parasites like that Michigan teacher keep their mouths shut because they don’t want to be called a “homophobe.” But is that such a bad name? Is it really a negative to be told that a person doesn’t enjoy poop particle sex? It isn’t to me. It states that my mind is not confused into behaving like a dog but would prefer even a feminist over a homosexual. I may feel sorry for the person attracted to such things, but that doesn’t make them superior to the biological structure that was bestowed on mankind for the sake of mating rituals and human evolution. The warnings of the 40s, 50s, and very early 60s were valid even if they were rooted with fear and religion into conforming society around a set of values that were being recognizably lost.
As despicable as Meryl Streep’s political views of men hatred are, she would still be a better dinner date than the eventual peril of the poop particles in a man’s hairy ass. That to me is the gauge of sanity in our modern time where such judgments are forbidden to even be discussed, let alone dealt with. In my family we have a couple of dogs and I watch often in horror when one sniffs at the other after urinating, or defecating and becomes quite excited about the occasion jumping around as though they just found out they won a million dollars. We also have a cat, and sometimes that animal will puke right in the middle of the floor and the dog will come and lick it all up clean. This behavior is disgusting by every measure of human value judgment—except the homosexual leaning beings. For them, this behavior has appeal, and from my point of view—is reminiscent of an illness of some kind. Such illnesses could be treated if they were identified, but instead they are promoted. That lack of proper danger recognition is what lead to the kind of rape case that happened in Michigan between a union president—teacher, and his student. In a society that called such behavior bad, the rape and abuse likely would have been averted.
We’ve all been told that we need to be open to other ways of thinking and embrace the “progressive” view of the world which states that feminism is more important than traditional value, and that same-sex practices are equal to traditional heterosexual practices. But they are not. One involves poop particles and the other doesn’t, and poop particles are not good, healthy, or delightful……..unless one considers themselves a dog. And that would be an insult—and nobody wants such a thing leveled in their direction. So what do we call such people? For all the faults pointed out by progressives toward films like the training film against homosexuality in the 50s, nothing has been offered as a modification or replacement to the attempt to at least identify bad behavior that might truly endanger children. Instead, we are told to look the other way and ignore the faults that progressives have brought to us all in pain, suffering and misery. And not even the fine acting of Meryl Streep can disguise her cover of a truly disgusting premise behind the progressive platform—that of the poop particle and the terrible expulsion of human waste that propagates from such unions in a sexual ritual centered purely on pleasure like a mindless animal—instead of the continuation of the human race. At least in the 50s they considered the impact that such behavior would have on children. The modern progressive does not—instead they seek to use children for their own pleasure and attempt to excuse the behavior as a “learning” experience that will pave the way to adult behavior that will never be able to relate to traditional value—which was always the real goal of their maniacal strategy.
I will give credit to the gay community and the progressive in general for one aspect of their strategy which is brilliant–the use of Meryl Streep as a growing advocate of feminism, erosion of Second Amendment rights, and general liberal causes. Many men who do not find such revulsion toward fecal matter as I do are choosing the gay life than a life shared with a feminist man-hating radical which substantially bolsters their numbers. The way to make more people turn toward homosexual behavior among men is to provide them with Meryl Streep as a spokesman for feminist causes…….brilliant.
The Overmanwarrior 