This Website is Completely Solar Powered! - Resist Rackets not Words - Springfield, OH - Read it and Weep
Below are personal sentiments at the given moment in time.
SORRY BUT NOTHING IS IN ORDER IN THIS SECTION OF THE WEBSITE.
Even the Pages are not in sequence. LOTS OF LUCK piecing it all together.
Before I make the entries, one last Interesting Note:
2019 update: I could not locate anywhere in the Government Reports of the mere mention of the two dead young adults in this first expose seen below.
In fact, it appears that the Internet has been scrubbed of this issue (I found only two remaining "news" sources that still had the story within their archives).
So much for bothering to leave comments on the "news" sites, huh?
Imagine your young adults are murdered, but later to find that they aren't so much as worth the mention to be counted in the Government Reports of Murdered Citizens.
*Clicking the following link will show a file of those slain and the reported reason why. Be aware that the file may incur extensive wait time, there are three files with the largest being over 7.7mb. Be sure to scroll all the way to the right to obtain more details of how each of them found their demise and which group caused the murders.
Here are the individual files which might be more readable if downloaded first (especially the second one):
2019 update, links are already banned, sorry.
We can do better than this un-evolved leadership.
But whether we or they, we had better do something smart, and quick.
Time is almost out for US.
Chain-of-Command, and the Decommissioning of a Nation
Okay, the Preface was a dumping ground, pending review.
Now on to the meat and potatoes.
Of all the absurdities of this "New World Order", nothing hit home at just how subtle, how out-of-the-public's mind, murder can be when considering the operations of those that own the media programming, the prisons and jails, the police, the courts, the media programming, the children's curriculum in all the schools from grade-school to University. Nothing could ever be compared to the sudden exposure of all the FBI, S.W.A.T., Provo Police, Detectives, Channel 2 & 5 News, of all the supplemental witnesses such as the nice Mormon couple that ran the Provo Utah Amenity Inn; still nothing could hold the murderers accountable.
Provo heard a lie via programming,
and the rest of the world heard nothing,
of two very dead kids.
Not even God could have saved those young adults for the onslaught that was to befall them while they slept.
This shocked me.
For some indoctrinated reason it was somehow presumed that the reporters would be eager to share the lengthy interview I had with them. Instead, the only words worthy of being "newsworthy" apparently were a redundant bam in "bam, bam, bam".
So this was a true-to-life lesson to me on the phrase, "media spin".
I don't recall if they even put a face with those helpful televised words but would like the proper proceeds for my having partook in the deception.
Corporate programming had me instantly converted from a witness to a crime, to a nameless, faceless person that only heard "bam, bam, bam".
They left out some parts, such as where I stated there was not due process of the law as they blasted those young adults to death with a barrage of bullets.
They failed to report any need for a lawful fair trial, before the executions of a young boy who was "wanted" because he was alleged to have ties with the White Supremacist (boogie men), and they fell almost silent to mention almost anything about the dead innocent girl that was also murdered.
Monopoly programming failed to mention the fact that I had related to them of the lack of announcement from the police.
there was no humane method otherwise exercised by grown "normal" men to arrest a young man.
Grown men could not conceive a better means to get the young adults out of the only door to room 212 of the Amenity Inn Motel.
The media failed to mention that I stated that the actions of the armed men put the rest of the public at risk, and that the humane thing would have been to get the rest of us citizens out of the motel for our safety before throwing a grenade through the window.
Instead, the "officer friendlies" used a grenade, the media PROGRAMMERS referred to this in a one-liner as a "flash-bang device". As if we couldn't possibly be any more dumbed-down. We should be so lucky that the media mafia didn't refer to the grenade as a "goo-goo, gah-gah" ...."flash-bang device"...phhhttt.
Instantly after the first loud bang from the grenade came down the door with a barrage of bullets to ensure that the boy and girl were dead where they slept.
I had never heard a blast that loud before, but I stepped out into the outside as pieces of the ceiling were flaking down to my room and bed.
An agent spotted me as I walked around to look upstairs! He was possibly FBI, not police, and not swat. Dressed in a black suit and suddenly activated as if by a switch, pointing to me as he walked aggressively in my direction shouting,
"GET BACK! GET BACK IN THERE! GET BACK AGAINST THE WALL NOW!!"
He had me inside the room and I was pretty much with my back against the left wall toward the head of the bed. He briskly walked past looking pumped up on the devil and demanded to know who else was with me in there. But he was already knowing the answer as he did a quick look-see into the bathroom and the tiny coat area, and was heading back toward me barking the order that I was to stay in the room and not come out.
However, that order seemed a bit vague. There was not the attached time frame.
Since I was expected to appear at a new job in the morning, after the man left from my view, came I out with a load of laundry, exiting left to the small laundry area in the inner-corner of the motel that was shaped like an "L".
The view from the laundry area allowed increased visibility to the upstairs action.
The motel was either out of detergent or I hadn't the correct change, so I began to pass through the parking lot toward the road where the media were held back, their trucks and antennas and cameras and microphones moving back and forth.
Before reading their "news" programming,
When was the last time you heard of S.W.A.T. serving a warrant against a guy who simply made a verbal threat (nothing physical) to a woman that had blocked him into a parking space because she was inconsiderately parked, causing him initial harm?
The story has changed a few times with the media PROGRAMMERS.....conveniently the versions have been removed from the internet (and our mental consideration).
As for their last-ditch effort and claim that he was a white supremacist, they could have stated he was anything under the sun, such as Black Panthers, Zionists, Taliban, Martian.
One thing is for certain though, we would never know that he donated a body-part to an un-related young parent that he did not even know (or of any other good that he did while alive).
With only one solitary viewpoint, our ability to reason is clouded by the "news". The Good will not be tele-vised.
But somehow to be in that particular group warrants capital murder without a lawful trial.
Meanwhile the plutocrats that create these Profitable (for them) laws, and also the atrocities and violations of the very same laws, are never atoned-for by this present form of Justus.
I have my reservations about the sanity of our population having been exposed to bad programming.
*It is noticed this date, April 4, 2018, that virtually all reports of the murdered young adults appears to be completely removed from the internet. This date I see there's not hardly any indication of anything that happened there. This is par for the course with this type of rule. I tried searching Google with search terms such as: "amenity inn 212 Utah flash" and,"amenity inn 212 Utah murder" and, "amenity inn Provo Utah murder two".
Then one result promised a synopsis that the killers were "cleared" of the shooting deaths of both kids.
I found the link using search terms in google: "amenity inn Provo swat FBI".
I see that the myriad of comments were also removed concerning the murders.
Cleared with Fabrications
Swat break down door unannounced laying down a fluffy pillow of bullets after first utilizing a grenade against a U.S. Citizen. "Authorities" claim Scott Biswell was of soundness of mind to awaken in milliseconds to locate a gun (or was it a television remote-control, or cell phone, aw heebeejeebies it was dark in there, let's call it a gun!), and pointed the gun at officers as they burst into the room unannounced , to defend himself against the unverifiable, unannounced, unknown aggressors / attackers that firstly threw a grenade and 50 + bullets into their room where the "wanted" kid (and innocent girl) slept (and were no threat to society, unlike others).
Did you notice in one of the "news" reports by their programming loudspeaker (media programming),
that the media bothered to make the statement of defense for the police,
stating the police did not actually shoot at the girl?
The "news" stopped at that point with no clear statement stating why or which officer shot the girl.
Is that not the most heinous audacity?
The boy is guilty for letting the bullet pass through him and therefore killed the innocent girl.
The bullet is guilty for not acting like a "smart" bullet.
The real killer is not so much as named in this present form of Government's Programming. The grown adult men that pulled the trigger to unleash a flurry of bullets however, are not guilty of anything (according to this form of justus).
Again, since when does it become necessary (let alone legal) for S.W.A.T. and the F.B.I. to serve a warrant for a verbal threat made by a martian, a whale, or a "white supremacist"?
Via programming, heard was one man's "news" title, "white supremacist killed", and all cognitive assessments and reasonable rational responses are turned off as if by a switch.
(Did I mention programming is not just for computers?).
The reason I felt compelled to go to the Press Conference in the first place, was due to a conversation I had the next morning after the bloody night. Going into the front desk of the Inn, the kind blondie Mormon lady and her husband were the caretakers at the motel, but the wife spoke alone with me somewhat candidly.
We began to discuss what happened the night before in more detail.
The woman behind the desk became visibly disconcerted when I related to her that one of the agents had told me that the motel had been staked out for three days to catch the man up there, but were not aware of the young girl in room 212.
The woman became visibly startled behind the desk, stopped me and stated,
"that's impossible. The girl is who rented the room and it was her that came down to pay the daily(?) rent".
The Mormon lady went on to state that her and her husband were not even aware that a man was residing up there since it was rented as a single-occupancy room to the girl only.
I left the Mormon Lady's presence and walked back to my room, noticing the state-sponsored smashed-out window, the damaged door, the caution tape, some holes from shots fired.
The mess was evidence of programming to the extreme, unlawful actions that hired men were, in their best wisdom, taking actions to "ensure the safety of themselves" (against two sleeping kids).
Then, while sitting on the edge of the bed, I began to again contemplate that for months I had been told from numerous family members and acquaintances from numerous states all across the country telling me that the FBI was looking for me. And now here they were, right out in the parking lot just the night before.
I began to recollect also, placing it into context, that I had inadvertently told my girlfriend I was in the room directly above me, the room without a window, the room that surely had splattered blood over every wall and piece of furniture.
The "news" was reporting that one of the murdered had located and pointed a gun at officers, and that he somehow was able to do this feat despite the blast. I knew that a large sound will actually cause the human to drop things, and will not increase in cognitive abilities. A large blast will make you loose footing, will make your knees go weak, will suddenly incapacitate a person. Yet the "news" programming stated the opposite, and most humans would simply accept it on face-value, having no other testimony available to consider.
In fear, I left to a country park to pitch a tent, and considered what to do next.
It was while living in that tent, eating creative meals of dry cat food, too broke for people food, I again called my ex-girlfriend for more details about her encounters with the FBI.
Nothing she had to say gave a clue as to why they were still hunting me.
While at the park, the on-site parks-man and I struck an agreement that I would install a couple of masonry wing-walls outside of the restrooms for him. His recompense would be to letting me stay in the Park beyond the "lawful" allowable time-frame, of which I was already beyond.
He remained to watch and help with the unloading of the concrete block and mortar from his truck until he felt comfortable that I knew what I was doing.
While unloading the materials, the Parks Agent and I spoke. I told him how I had recently been released from jail, and of the outrageous reason I was placed in their jail in the first place. I told him I was held in jail for months but the facts are that I hadn't done ANYTHING wrong aside from wanting to be left alone and not bothered anymore by the police. I think my "crime" was disorderly conduct...phhtt....after they beat me up.
The groundsman inquired more, and I told him. I told him how Tamara, my ex-girlfriend, had pulled a gun and pointed it at me.I told him where it happened, directly in front of the door of a"7-11" convenience store on such-and-such street *AND THAT THE ENTIRE EPISODE WAS RECORDED ON THE 7-11 SECURITY CAMERAS. I told him of how I was incredulous at her sudden explosive demeanor, how I walked toward her grabbing her by the arms and shoulders and how I shook her into her senses. (Tamara is Bipolar. Bipolar people aren't necessarily bad....just not always predictable, even when medicated, in my opinion).
I told the groundsman how relieved I was that she hadn't pulled the trigger (even if it was just a BB-gun), and how quickly the situation had been quelled over whether or not I slept with someone other than her (it's a ridiculous story that I won't even bother to elaborate upon, coupled with the fact that She and I had only known each other for a few months...maybe a year in all, but I doubt it).
Suffice to say, Tamara became calmed down and we began to hear the sirens getting closer. I'm not certain that it was out of caring for my freedom that she told me to run.She knew about the problems I was having due to the government officials and their hunt for me prior to the Amenity Inn murders (which followed after my release from jail from this very incident).
*Sorry, this account is totally out of order. The sequence of events will be better situated within this writ when time permits.
But when she said run, with a look that I knew was my last, I ran.
I didn't get very far though.
Jumping Back to the park:
The time came that the Parksman could no longer hide me as a semi-permanent tented fixture.
So God sent me an old farmer.
He and his wife took me to their house and expansive property.
After placing me in a small trailer which was also on their land, I was told to tend to the place feeding livestock and obtaining eggs and the such.
But the real job was selling his relative's potatoes to the general public.
The potatoes were delivered from Iowa (if my memory serves correctly) via Semi-truck and long trailer. Tractor Trailer-beds full of un-bagged red potatoes. My main job was everything from unloading, weighing, bagging, marketing, and sales. I worked alone and that suited me just fine.
It was decided that I would do my best to sell something I knew nothing about.
So I built large pyramids of bagged potatoes stretching for probably more than a quarter-mile of frontage beside the road
(the farmer actually owned miles of frontage though).
And with each hundred feet or so of road frontage that a passerby on the fast-paced road drove,
the driver had to see my 4 foot by 8 foot signs all painted up and leaning against the pyramids of bagged red potatoes.
Believe it or not, it soon became a pseudo-success, gaining much higher profits to the farmer (and me) than each of us had expected.
This went on for awhile, but something seemed to have spooked the old guy. Finally he stated he felt as though I were making too much profit (* However, the deal was that I was to give him only what he had initially asked per pound of potatoes. The fact that I was voluntarily giving him more than what he had asked for, eventually became paled when he learned of what my profit was which was about double his pay. Technically my part was only manual, and was a quid pro quo in percentage (i.e. The Landowner told me a price to pay him per every pound sold, there was not any price that I must sell for so much as he obtained his price per pound).
Those red potatoes were the best potatoes anybody that bought them had ever tasted. There were no culls like the potato farm I worked in New York as a youngster. These potatoes were healthy, looked good,tasted good, and were worth paying more for.
But the retired old farmer ultimately called a halt to the whole operation.His argument was that my prices were not inline with the prices at the stores and then threw in some mormon scripture that put an ominous gloom over the success.
I knew he had probably just hit a geriatric moment, or phase, so there was no use in disputing the matter.
The reason for it's success was also due to the fact that the old farmer owned so many hundreds of acres of land, which would also add to the income from potatos.
The cattle had to be "found" (seriously), but luckily the old farmer cued me in on their grazing habits and I could find them readily to bring them in.
But while four-wheeling the plains looking for the cattle, I found skulls and cool rocks and dead twisted timber and stuff that looked like movie-props. If something looked unique, it was picked up and the stuff brought to the side-of-the-road trailer which the farmer allowed me to reside in.
Would you believe people were buying the stuff!? ROCKS even!
BONES AND SKULLS, DEAD BRANCHES, and more were made into collages and garden-art that finally earned me enough money to buy my own food and hygiene items, etc.
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