[I just sent this to
http://www.foxnews.com/ Near the bottom, under logo "STRAIGHT TALK" w/ caption "Drug War Casualties In Views: If it was a military action, many war crimes would exist" To be sure!
Fox news! This after Walters fudges all over your propaganda campaign and the Hoover Institute dedicates their weekly editorial to the same sentiment.
So it looks like your war is almost over. Thank GOD for that! My best years are gone and you own my mother and most of my siblings. But my kids may one day breathe free air. That's all I ever really wanted.
Before I close, though, I have to tell you about a dream I had some years ago. I'm not making this up, I think it may have been precognative in a symbolic way. Lord knows I had enough clues as to what was going on and who was behind it, though I steadfastly refused to put it all together in any conscious way.
At the time, I'd say around `97 or so, I'd become interested in industrial hemp. Contrary to the lies you like to tell (maybe even believe?), I'd found plenty of reference to industrial hemp in just about any historical document I looked at. I have a copy of the 1856 Patent Report, which shows hemp as having been among the top 5 cash crops in all of what is now coal mining and tobacco territory. So I decided to take a closer look and, eventually, made friends in Vancouver. Having been raised a staunch Republican Presbyterian, this was a bit of an adventure outside my normal social circle. These friends told me about Jack Herer (The Hemperor... I'm sure you've heard of him) and Ibogene; about political plots involving the DuPonts, Mellons, Anslinger and Nazi sympathizers. And I was apprehensive about these people, their agendas... the unknown.
So one night around that time I had this dream. It's one of those rare ones that's so lucid and yet strange, so vivid and powerful that I was able to tell my husband just about every detail of it in the morning and am still able, five years later, to clearly remember it.
I was going to go to Vancouver--this strange and beautiful land full of wild people that I'd heard about--I was going to see for myself. Friends warned me to be careful or, better yet, to not go there because it was too dangerous, because associating with 'those people' might earn me a stigma that would be hard to wear later; might even cause me to have to stay there, like it or not, in a sort of exile.
Well I decided to go anyway. And the way there was interesting in itself. It was a suspension bridge made of rope and wood, all mossey amd dank spanning over a deep and misty gorge. Standing at the head of it, one couldn't see the other end; it just seemed to dissapear into a heavy fog. But people were coming and going on this bridge; strange people, but not unpleasant. They reminded me of all the strange peoples and creatures that populate JRR Tolkein's works of fiction.
On the other end was a smallish way station of sorts. There was shelter to be had, an old style inn, food and drink, some touted as being medicinal in nature--good for treating ailments common to the wayfaring patronage. It struck me that there was absolutely no advertizing, no familiar logos at all. If one wanted food or drink or information, one had to find a person and strike up a conversation to find out. I was easily able to find food and drink from a man (well, dwarf in a dark traveling hood) who was sitting a table, eating but not particularly enjoying a quick meal.
He told me where to buy the food, how much it cost and where I might find lodging. He didn't ask my business, and I got the impression that it would be a breach of courtesy to ask his. Then he said "Fare well, friend, wherever you go. And be careful of the soul suckers!" Then he returned his attention to his meal and I wandered off, wondering what the soul suckers were.
Then I saw one! He stood out. In this bussy crossroads of humble, simple folk, there was a man in a blue business suite with close cropped hair, shaven face and eyes lit up as one on a whole lot of amphetamine.... Take Weaver hastings, for example, cut his hair, add 30 lbs and 10 years and put a suite on him. That's the man I saw. He looked and me and smiled asif he'd been watching me all along, waiting for me to notice him.
The look of him, and that he just didn't belong in this picture, and that he seemed to be expecting me, all together gave me a terrible fright. Far worse than the bridge or any people I'd seen at the way station, and some of them seemed to be warriors. I felt compeled to follow him and find out what he was doing here. He walked casually among the people. Some seemed to avoid him, to warn me and others off with looks, but not words. Those who noticed him seemed frightened of him. But most just didn't seem to notice him at all.
Then he walked up to a person who'd been walking down a path on the edge of 'town'. He smiled at me and winked, asif to say "Watch this". He shook this other, smaller person's hand and engaged him in friendly conversation. Then he gave me 'that look' again over his shoulder, he reached out and tilted this person's head back and SUCKED HIS SOUL right out of his throat! It came out visibly, as a mist. Then the man in the blue suit tilted this person's head forward again, leaving him just as he'd been, except that there was no soul in this walking body. His face and eyes were blank and void of intelligence or human spirit. And yet he walked on about his business asif nothing had happened.
It was then that I noticed the same blank void in the faces of those people who didn't seem to notice this stranger walking among them. And it was then that I noticed others like him, both male and femail, harvesting souls as he had done. And he looked at me again with great pride and malice, asif DAREing me to do something about it.
And it was then that I discovered, in real life, the lowest common denominator to the task before me. Just make them see. That's all. Those who know you for the soul suckers that you are need to alert the rest. There are plenty more of us than there are of you. And even many of those who you thought you'd either destroyed or owned permanently are coming around.. And Betty, some of them are very, very angry!
So, what will you do with yourselves when the war is finally over? During and after WWII, I understand that a lot of Nazis found refuge in Venezuela. But you're also Jewish, right? So I guess, without the political cloute you're about to kiss goodbye and the money that goes along with it, you wouldn't find a lot of solace among your Nazi cronnies. Maybe you should think about moving to Israel. There are far worse monsters than you on all sides of that mess. You'd fit right in.
Well, whatever you do, good luck. I do mean that. I have no wish to see anything bad happen to you. I think you're probably haunted already. I'm just very pleased to see your ability to do further harm eroding daily.
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Ginger Warbis | He who laughs lasts.
http://Fornits.Com/
