Sometimes I mistakenly assume that someone has the same appreciation for magic as I do but for people of Western European ancestry magic is synonymous with superstition and I need to keep reminding myself of that for the sake of communication. We in the West are raised to be materialists and atheists, after all. This is an occult accomplishment in case you didn’t know; it’s done primarily with sorcery, which is 95% fear and 5% manipulation of physics. Materialists are conditioned to be afraid of the unseen realities so they’re trained to deny their existence. The great coup of the corporate order’s brain police during the last century was to transform that terror of the unknown into complacent denial and it happened in stages, which is one reason I urge people to read real history books if they want to get acquainted with the unseen, essential realities.
So I thought it might be worthwhile, in that context, to share a couple of seminal personal experiences that I had as a youth which sort of threw me onto my current path of enquiry about magic and the compelling power of things we can’t usually see.
Leading up to those experiences, I had acquired faith through religion at the age of 18 when I was in college in the fall of 1967 and it was the sort of experience in which a lot of puzzle pieces leap into place at the same time. Forunately for me, the experience was inclusive because I saw all of the religions at the same time in that light–like chapters in a very long and ancient Book in Progress. I fell hopelessly in love with religions (sans clergy) in that moment and that has stayed with me. Unfortunately, over the ages the corporate order has been able to subvert most of the religions through clergy and the best example of that is churchianity. The next best example is Islam, although only the Ottoman Turks degraded that religion far enough to include violent conversion a la churchianity and that wasn’t until many centuries after Muhammad’s passing. The ‘jihad’ that the media whores yammer about endlessly is just churchianity’s ancient bloody agenda overlaid on their own media version of Islam. Anyone who knows Muslims understands that they’re incapable of waging that sort of war, even if they wanted to, which they clearly don’t.
The only Muslims that are terrorists are the ones who are employed by the CIA, MI6 and the Mossadomites and I don’t think they can correctly be called Muslims, since they also murder Muslims as mercenaries for these agencies in places like Albania, Palestine, Libya and Syria. Remember when the headlines were very briefly boasting about how Al Qaeda and the US Marines were ‘fighting side by side’ in Libya? How many people noticed this clear and obvious confirmation that terrorism is a cynical corporate product and not a religious one? ‘Semper fidelis’ to what, other than to the banksters and their parasitic agenda?
Muhammad explicitly forbade forced conversion and he commanded the faithful to honor and respect the Christians and Jews in their communities; the ‘People of the Book.’ The Ottoman Empire’s historical predecessor were the ravaging Hittites, by the way, and Troy was on the fringe of that empire when the Greeks took it. I learned that recently from reading the Babylonian Woe, which I highly recommend to anyone who wants to see how the banksters’ criminal syndicate eventually came to rule the world through parasitism, which is how sorcerers (wachawi) also operate, by the way.
Uchawi is sorcery. It’s a lovely Swahili word. Africans are acquainted with the workings of magic (‘juju’ in Swahili) the way that Europoids are acquainted with internal combustion engines and electric appliances and I have always felt that this is why the brainwashing methods that work so well on Europoids fail to efficiently move our black cousins. I say ‘cousins’ because our entire species are all technically related to each other–not more than 52nd cousins according to something I read once. Another source observes that if all of humanity were to intermarry for a long enough period, the resulting physical traits would be identical to what the Hawaiian islanders looked like when the Europoids arrived. Having lived and worked in Polynesia (Western Samoa, Tonga and Hawaii) in 1984 and 85 it was easy to observe the nature of that melting pot of humanity.
Polynesians are probably the most gregarious and footloose ethnic group on the planet, in case you didn’t know but we’re seeing some of that same restless spirit in the East African Kidundi who are posting reports here. Every time they get a few hundred extra bucks from one or another of their generous and farsighted readers they make a bunch of orgonite and take it to yet another beleaguered African country to give away to farmers and fishermen. The coolest part of that is that eventually all of these depressed economies and ravaged environments are becoming prosperous and productive in clear stages and that partly translates into a larger market for the Kikundi. ‘Kikundi’ is a Swahili word that means a lot of things, including ‘team,’ and ‘grammatical word group.’
Someone in the US sent me a money order ($1,000) for Mrs Odondi, last week. It’s going to cost me $70 to send it to her via Western Union but I feel privileged to make that little contribution. This $1,000 will help them make history shortly. We should be so fortunate. Carol and I spent that much busting up most of the US Air Force’s murderous weather warfare apparati in Tornado Alley a year ago and nobody seems to even notice or care that the number of deadly tornadoes suddenly diminished last spring, in spite of the media whores swearing that there would be more than ever [Image Can Not Be Found] but it was a small pleasure for Carol and I, at least, to refuse to let National Geographic’s journalists ‘interview’ us about our work for some hatchet job they were probably planning to do against orgonite, recently.
Their enquiry was a nice confirmation that the sewer rats noticed our success in Tornado Alley, at least. When I refused to dance with them via email they called Carol on the phone, heheh. I guess they underestimated my wife.
Carol is itching to finish the job in Tornado Alley, especially since the Air Force (SS war criminals joined the CIA and the US Air Force when they were jointly formed in 1947–the beastly twins) managed to murder a lot of people in Alabama last spring. We didn’t get to their key apparatus in the South on that trip. I think they were partially goading Louis Onder, by the way, who is the most prolific gifter in the South and lives in the city that they savaged the worst. Klaus in Atlanta may be giving Louis a run for his money by now–that guy is a dynamo, too. He buys a lot of his orgonite from Louis, by the way. Louis’ site is http://www.orgoneenergybalanci……ducts.html and this is in the list at the right of EW’s homepage.
Having sorted out my spiritual bearings at a tender age I was still challenged to make my way in the world, materially, and I kept hitting walls–it was just the opposite of how the doors were opening to me from the unseen realms. I suppose that if I had the gift of psychism I would have seen a lot more but I’ve never felt a lack because my instincts are as good as anyone’s and I just follow those heart promptings when I’m paying attention and it always pays off. Looking back, it’s obvious to me that I was being blocked from material success because I see that happening to a lot of people, now–perhaps hundreds of thousands and that might indicate how many people are actively working to support the parasitic corporate order right now–tens of millions? I failed to stay awake in the classroom in college and even high school, except in the few classes that were actually interesting so I washed out of college after one semester and since I had no job skills and since I have an innate hatred of arbitrary authority I rarely did well as an employee.
A few years ago, when our zapper business grew beyond our ability to keep up with production on our own, Carol and I were in a position to become employers but since both of us always hated being bossed we were sure not inclined to be ‘the gentry’ so we farm our production work out to reliable friends and family who mostly do the work in their own homes. Thomas Paine had said that the employer/employee setup is a needless form of feudalism/slavery so he suggested that people rather ought to ‘sell their labor’ as independent contractors, even if they’re workers in a factory or on a farm. He was ahead of his time in a lot of ways, like Reich later was.
If you are ‘employed’ but have an active mind I bet you always wondered why nearly all of your coworkers behave and think like creepy, backstabbing slaves so here’s your obvious answer. I started to figure this out only after I started my own business in 1990 after having been fired from my last employment. I was a sign painter and computer-generated graphics were making that employment obsolete. I did pretty well after that with hand lettering because there will always be a market for this more artful and esthetically pleasing expression of the trade. I could go back to that tomorrow if I had to. I started to meet other small businessmen who were actually genuine people, unlike the fellow wage chattel I’d been forced to associate with all my working life until then. When you’re around jerks all the time you have to wonder if the entire species is doomed but when we broaden our associations we find the gems among humanity and then we understand that these are the ones who count. Spirituality to me is all about refinement of character, development of discernment and cleaning one’s heart in preparation for being a better servant to humanity and to our Maker. It’s got nothing at all to do with psychism or the occult. Most people who succeed in the latter two are people you don’t ever want to meet.
Orgonite, distributed intelligently in the workplace, ‘urges’ hopeless and degenerate slaves and even the complacent gentry to become more and more fully human, by the way.
I call our business structure, ‘guerrilla manufacturing’ and one of the benefits of this method is that our business has a very low profile so the feds can’t just padlock it and shut it down, as they’re inclined to do whenever anyone has marketed a successful healing device or protocol in a capitalized way. Carol and I grew our business with ‘garagemanship.’ That’s how the Kikundi also got started, as well as several others of our successful colleagues around the world who are listed in the lower right margin of this forum’s homepage.
The internet favors ‘guerrilla marketing,’ of course, and I took to the internet like a fish to water in 1998.
Carol and I bought a motorhome a couple of years ago in case we need to mobilize the central operation of worldwithoutparasites.com again [Image Can Not Be Found] but as the secession movement grows stronger in America we’re being bothered less and less by the federal felonious sewer rats, I’m happy to say. That doesn’t mean they don’t still want to kill us, of course, and just the other night Carol woke me up in the wee hours (she’s only done that once or twice, before) and had me go downstairs as fast as possible because a fed’s cellphone rang and woke her up. We keep a shotgun by the bed, which they all know. The clever buggers were gone before I got downstairs. I ought to install a few motion-sensor cameras around here and post the sewer rats’ photos so some readers won’t think I’m nuts when I report these trespasses [Image Can Not Be Found] and I suppose I could even post a photo of the footprints they leave in the snow when they come in through the back door while we’re gone. They even left a ‘deposit’ in our downstairs toilet during one of our trips just to spook Carol’s daughter, Jenny, who comes to the house to do our shipping and bookwork three days a week. It didn’t work on Jenny because she thought I’d done it and was a little sore at me until Carol explained the situation. By then, the shock value of the discovery was past. I don’t even use that toilet, by the way–I courteously do my business in the one out in the hangar. When Don Bradley told me that the feds were doing that to him when he was out of the house I felt a little envious because I like it when I see confirmations of their intrusions. I think they want to scare activists that way–maybe it works on PJ folks but they would rather have their throats cut than lift a finger to improve our world so no federal wage slaves will ever take a big terrorist dump in their water closets.
Enough of our readers have had similar experiences that they feel confirmed when they read these accounts, though. Otherwise they might be inclined to assume that they’re ‘just imagining it.’ Lots of us on EW have these experiences but only a few will report it, unfortunately. Ten years ago there were so few people experiencing these things that almost nobody believed me but my writing was entertainment for the others, at least.
We had to take our business on the road for a year in 2000 when the feds started railroading zapper makers into the USSA’s Gulag Archipelago. The stupid nazi parasites who control the USSA soon figured out that this sort of suppression no longer works, thanks to the internet. I started calling for the dissolution of this terrorist federal regime publicly during that year–even before they blew up the World Trade Center and started slaughtering freedom fighters abroad at London’s behest. Later on it became obvious that state secessions are going to accomplish that without even shooting these omnipresent sewer rats, including the murderous and still oddly-complacent US Congress. Politicians are so stupid and shortsighted but I suppose all parasites are.
My big brother, Jim, handed me a copy of a pretty good biography of Thomas Paine a couple of years ago and I devoured it because several more big puzzle pieces dropped into place, thanks to our freedom-fighting forebear, who evidently wrote most of the Declaration of Independence in the spring and summer of 1776 as soon as he got off the boat from England, where Benjamin Franklin discovered and recruited him. Paine inspired the American Revolution with his pamphlet, Common Sense , at the same time. When we consider that the internet wasn’t available it’s a genuine miracle how fast that pamphlet spread throughout the colonies in a properly grassroot way. Paine almost died of typhus on the voyage and he arrived quite sick and debilitated. Typhus was one of Great Britain’s biological weapons in those days. They weaponized smallpox in the next century and their masonic agents (the new Smithsonian Institution, missionaries and merchants) in America used lovely, smallpox-infested blankets to decimate (“kill, destroy, or remove a large percentage or part of”) most of the native tribes during the westward expansion that followed the Civil War. Benjamin Franklin’s mentor, Cotton Mather, developed the first vaccine in order to combat the British effort to depopulate the colonies in the decades before the revolution.
Paine tried his best to get universal suffrage, including the birthright of women, Indians and blacks to vote and not just white property owners. He also figured out that much or most of the oppression in the world (intellectual, economic, political as well as spiritual) is enabled by clergy, so he campaigned for independent examination of reality so it was the clergy who managed to erase him from history, even before he died. The masons who dominated the US Government, including Paine’s friend, Jefferson, stood by and were afraid to resist. Most of the clergy are still masons, after all–especially in the Bible Belt where satanism is also the most prevalent. It’s ironic that Paine had been a Methodist minister in England for awhile. I think he got expelled from the church because he invited women to preach to his congregation.
The finer aspects of the American spirit are embodied in this man, a great deal more than in any of the other founding fathers with the possible exception of Benjamin Franklin. He was no saint, of course, but who is?
Clergy exercise uchawi. It’s the nature of the job so even the ‘nice ones,’ are guilty of it. Wearing a turned-around collar and black garb puts someone in the position to be regarded as an interlocutor between the individual and his Maker. This is a pretty good word, though it’s not often used any more: a person who takes part in a dialogue or conversation.
When I was visiting Kizira Ibrahim in Uganda I watched him do a sort of exorcism on a possessed teenage girl. It reminded me of how my sometime mentor, James Hughes used to do the same thing for people who wanted to get clear of invasive influences and programming shackles. He did it for me in 1998, in fact. Kizira did it following a cool drumming session and James does it with an inspired and artful combination of sound, crystals, colors and breath.
Kizira learned much of his craft from his mother, who was a mchawi (witch) and I gather that his Muslim father was the one who taught him that prayer to God has to be private, without the involvment of clergy (interlocution). James was raised in the Catholic Church but even as a kid he knew that it was just theater. After he was struck by etheric lightning in 1979 he just knew how to fix people and this happened to him in midlife, before which he had no interest in spirituality or metaphysical subjects. He was a contented and successful Maytag Appliance dealer until then. It took him five years to come to terms with what happened to him and to commit to the healing business, instead, and in those five years he lost everything and was bedridden. It’s a great story. He didn’t intellectualize spiritual matters and lived in the moment but my experience with him gave me a deeper appreciation for The Operators, which is a term that works well for people who are alienated by the notion of religions. When we consider that a person’s heart is more important than what he believes it’s easier to disregard the things that divide our species, most of which come from clergy or other mind control specialists and enforcers–the brain police.
Of course, prayer and piety aren’t the same and the shallow folks who have always represented the bulk of religionists will put piety first and the more genuine people of faith (always the tiny but essential minority) will be obvious to us because they’re in touch with their finer heart promptings and base their behavior on those. These are the few who grasp the Creative Word aspect of all the true religions. Real prayer is from the heart and not muttered in a pious and fervent way as a mob. ‘An hour’s reflection is better than seventy years of pious worship.’
Work can also be a form of prayer or worship if it’s done in the spirit of service to our fellows. We’re fortunate when we can find a line of work that benefits others, which is why we often meet people in the ‘service’ trades who are so content. We even know some cops in that category. One of them is a police chief, Billie Phillips, whom we (the etheric warfare weekly chat group) helped rescue from an elaborate FBI sting operation in 2005 after he contacted Carol and I. He got into trouble with the feds after he stood up in a police-chief convention and said that his department was not going to support the new Homeland Security protocols, which of course are unlawful and Hitleresque. After he humiliated the FBI sewer rats he was invited to join the patriot speaker circuit [Image Can Not Be Found]
I think it was my religious experience that caused me to recognize uchawi when I first encountered it in Germany in 1969. I had joined the army in near desperation after I spent a couple of years trying to find my way into a trade. I didn’t manage to find an opportunity to do that for ten more years, in fact, and it was an uphill struggle for another five years before I could stand on my own two feet, economically. I was forty before I became self-employed and by then I had four kids and a dangerously psychotic wife, who has only recently stopped seeking to destroy me. Life finally got smoother for me when Carol and I got together in 2000. Yikes.
I was actually happy to see that uchawi runs the world because until then the world entirely confused and depressed me–made no sense at all. I’ve always been a little bit agoraphobic, which is one reason I’m so suited to doing this internet stuff. After a day of errands in town all I want to do is take a nap. People in 3D have always exhausted me a bit and there are only a handful of folks I can comfortably spend time with–including Carol, fortunately [Image Can Not Be Found]
In Germany, where I had been stationed as an infantry chump, the wachawi came out of the woodwork and tried to manipulate me into ‘joiing up.’ It was a filthy version of epiphany (• a manifestation of a divine or supernatural being.• a moment of sudden revelation or insight). Since this first happened to me in Germany I got kind of excited when I read Jim Marrs’ The Rise of the Fourth Reich, which is about the SS infiltration of the US Government after WWII, which I assume (but Marrs doesn’t directly state) was at London’s behest, since they also used SS war criminals to bolster their puppet regimes in the Middle East, including Israel, after the war. SS and uchawi are synonymous, I think you’ll agree. I think our informal chat group are the only people who say out loud that the SS are simply the ancient Vryal. My experience in Germany also helped me appreciate what Al Bielek told Carol and I about Montauk’s and Project Rainbow’s connection to the nazis during WWWII. I have to keep reminding myself that most people haven’t experienced these things so they need to keep what I’m saying in their ‘wait and see’ file. If more folks would read Marrs’ and Farrell’s books about the current role of the SS in the only terrorist regimes (US, UK, Israel) we could end this nightmare a lot sooner. Then you could also put some more of what I’m saying into your active files [Image Can Not Be Found]
After a bit I saw the old occult network of the Germans throughout the hierarchy of the US Army in Germany–it was just like some of the vampire movies we all love to watch. That was kind of invigorating to me because until then the world was just a bother and a bore to me; now it actually got interesting. Years later Don Bradley told me that reptilians run all of the bloodbanks and conduct the Red Cross blood drives because they need to drink a lot of human blood to maintain their human disguise. I don’t doubt it, especially since I had already seen a few reptilians, one of them in full form. I didn’t see any of that until 1999 and most of what I’ve seen was in Southern California within a few years of that.
My stepdad was set up in business by my wealthy grandfather, who also got him into freemasonry. Grandad, George Croft, was a protegé of Harry Truman, who used his president uchawi to keep my father out of the war after he became a pilot in the army air corps in 1944. George Junior was sore about that and he hated being in business, so as soon as the Korean Conflict broke out, he became active in the Air Force, learned to fly jets and got shot down and captured in North Korea on his very first mission. See, the Russians got the best German SS aeronautical engineers, so their air force destroyed nearly all of ours in Korea. Did you know that the Korean War ended the day that Stalin died or was murdered? Russia used Chinese cannon fodder to drive the Americans out of the north. The Chinese troops were the surviving Nationalist troops who didn’t make it to Taiwan after Mao took over and they were forced at gunpoint to advance on the Americans. I got an awful lot of usable information from reading that exhaustive biography of Mao by Jung Chang. I don’t know why anyone wants to remain ignorant and asleep when all of this wonderful information is available. When I was struggling to figure things out none of this was easy to find and now it’s everywhere.
A few years after he married my mom, my stepdad joined the Red Cross and we were sent overseas (Guam) where it gradually became apparent to me that he was working for someone in addition to ‘the Red Cross.’ Carol and I now assume that he was assigned by the CIA to be my handler when I was six. I apparently washed out of MK Ultra by the time I was fifteen, which is when we moved to Guam. I broke down and cried when Carol and I trespassed onto Fort Hero at Montauk to do some of our initial gifting in March, 2001. I don’t cry much at all, otherwise. In those days, the CIA was still at least partly populated by people who had some humanity but society was already schizoid in America since the beginning, hence the wholesale slaughter of Indians in the name of Jesus during the westward expansion and even in the weird Puritan days. I don’t think you find humanity in the sewer rat agencies any more and even the masons are getting more and more obtuse, though their numbers are dwindling–have been for a long time. DB told me that one of his jobs was to recruit youngsters into freemasonry, rosicrucianism and theosophy. All newagers wholeheartedly serve theosophy but only a few of them actually even know about the organization that drives their stupid belief paradigm but this is a typical parasite’s dynamic, after all.
My other uchawi epiphany happened in Louisiana in 1972. One of the only jobs I ever sort of liked before I finally got a trade was as a lifeguard in St Louis after I got ejected from the army. I built a small sailboat during that summer in my folks’ backyard and launched it in the Mississippi on Labor Day, end of summer. I sailed it a thousand miles to Baton Rouge, on my way to Central America (that was my dream when I was in the army) and met a fellow who owned a sugar mill. He took me ashore, treated me to breakfast at his plantation and urged me to go to work for him. I thanked him but was restless, so I sailed on south but that night, as I was tied to a revetment on the side of the river opposite the ship channel, a seagoing ship passed by on the wrong side of the river, very close to me, and the bow wave threw me up onto the rocks and the boat was broken apart. Bummer.
I went back to the guy’s place and he gave me the dirtiest, hardest job in the whole plant: climbing up onto truckloads of sugarcane while they were being unloaded with a crane, gathering up 80 pounds of cane in a sort of stretcher, weighing it, chopping the roots off all the canes and weighing it again. The difference determined how much was paid for each truckload and I had to do this entire process every twenty minutes throughout the twelve-hour day.
The only other work I’d done during my voyage was as a day laborer in Memphis for a couple of weeks because I’d run out of money by then. I was living on beans in those days. Most Americans have never experienced real poverty–same with most people in Western Europe.
I had lived in Arkansas during most of my childhood but that was during segregation and I never even met a black person in those years. I rarely even saw them, though they made up a third of my town’s population. When I went to work in Louisiana I was only one of a handful of whites who worked in that plant. The others were the owner and a few Cuban engineers and technicians. The whites were expected to take their meals in the owner’s big house and the blacks had their own messhall. The food was pretty good in the white folks’ dining room but after my experience in Guam as a teenager and with the army guys I knew who were blacks and Mexicans I felt powerfully drawn to eat in the blacks’ messhall. The food there was incredibly good and the company was a lot more fun and interesting, too. My employer got a little sore at me for rocking the boat (that wasn’t my intention) but he wasn’t a bad guy and I think he wanted to understand me.
The people who got really mad at me were not visible, as it turned out. After a few days I got that familiar scent of occult manipulation that had been so prevalent around me in Germany. My black coworkers had been courteous but aloof, though they were curious about this odd Yankee among them and no doubt amused. One young fellow started coming around the mill and I knew right away that he was a nexus of occult energy–voodoo. Everyone, including the owner, were clearly afraid of him and several times this guy tried to arrange my demise, including loads of cain dropping from the crain’s bucket where I’d been standing an instant before. I was in touch with my instincts, enough, to follow them without question by then; I was in my element [Image Can Not Be Found]
The disharmony grew exponentially for the next few weeks until the conveyor belt broke during the buildup of a savage thundertorm and everyone suddenly fled, including the owner. They knew about uchawi in a way that northern whites were oblivious to. I stayed there and was frankly happy for the break because I’ve always loathed toil. If it weren’t for the opposition I’d probably have left weeks before if I’d still had a boat. I decided to read and I started seeing this young voodoo guy lurking around in my peripheral vision, shirtless and carrying a machete. I knew he was looking for an opportunity to murder me and there were no witnesses. I was ready to die because anyone who has faith is not especially eager to remain in this world longer than necessary, of course.
When he was standing right behind me, probably ready to chop my head off, the storm suddenly passed, the sun came out and everyone came back to the plant within a few minutes. I had mixed feelings of relief and disappointment but it felt nice that I’d apparently passed a test about commitment.
From that moment all the blacks were friendly toward me and one of them even arranged for me to get a room in a boarding house in Scotlandville, which is the black suburb of Baton Rouge. I eventually got a job as a cook in the BR airport’s restaurant and made a lot of friends in Scotlandville, where I discovered that ancient African culture is alive and well in America. We whites who are fortunate enough to be given a glimpse of that are still few and far between, unfortunately, but that situation is improving with each generation.
The day after the event at the sugarmill I was called over to join a group of my coworkers during a break and I was introduced to the young man who had been in a position to murder me. His demeanor had changed for the better and my coworkers were trying to help him heal and to assume some accountability in a gentle way. That’s the old African tradition at work in America and we more recently read about how our African cohorts gently influenced some of their former oppressors (some police and a judge who had tried to railroad Dancan into prison) with gifts of orgonite and zappers, which were well received.
Gandhi was not opposed to violence but he correctly determined that non-violent resistance to British tyranny was a workable strategy in India. It didn’t work as well for Martin Luther King in America, I think, because the traditions are so different, here, and not as homogenous as in some of the older cultures.
To me, state secession is a lot more elegant than ‘civil disobedience’ and it’s not rebellion at all; it’s a process of growing awareness. It’s actually less violent than Gandhi’s revolution because nobody has to get shot or beaten up in the process, though all of the feds, including Congress, who are felons might be held accountable in proper state, county and local courts of law in coming years, depending on where they’re arrested.
Cops know better than most that martial law won’t work and they plan to quickly get as far from their uniforms and squad cars as they can the instant that the stupid feds might declare martial law. Most of the soldiers are abroad, murdering patriots in other lands and even they would not enforce martial law if they were here. The Chinese and Russians only want to trade and prosper and they’re the only likely candidates for coming here to enforce martial law so they won’t come. I think it’s al downhill for the wachawi who run the parasitic world order, now. When the first US state secedes, Britain and Israel will also fall and that will be the abrupt end of financed war and terrorism in the world.
~Don
