Archive for May, 2010

Sublime Catharsis

May 31, 2010

The Reviews

By  S. H. Pearson

In Mark Glenn’s stirring What I Saw That Day, one is swept-up in Phillip Tourney’s sublime catharsis — a long time coming.  The slicing keel of Glenn’s writing is absorbing, engrossing and fluid.  Pages turn unbeknown to the reader as Tourney’s Navy life comes roaring over the gunwales.

What one devours in this book is war at sea that can only be told by a man who lived it —  a story that unleashes the long-muzzled visceral.  Adventure on the high seas has never been served to me like this.  Errol Flynn’s dash and vim can’t match it.  The Golden Age of Jewish Hollywood can’t touch it.

Tourney opens an artery, fire hose-fat.  And Glenn crafts it into What I Saw That Day, gripping tragedy, lashing outrage, strafing strike fighters, blood-on-the-decks.  You can smell the adrenaline.  Hear the screams bouncing off the bulkheads.  This is not a drill, sailor.  Real life never is.

In this read you will find no slow spots.  Every word counts.  Like Mark Twain wrote, “When you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.”  Just open the flood-gate.

The pages in this book fly like the U.S. Navy jets that should have flown, but never came that day.  Thank you, Mr. McNamara, for your strike fighter support to our besieged LIBERTY.  Where the hell were ya?

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Note:  Prior to publication, I questioned both author and autobiographer about a comment on page 218 of Glenn’s manuscript.  Having been asked to read and proof the manuscript, I felt compelled to share my feeling about an irrelevant comment that has no place in U.S. History.  The comment issued from the textual voice of P. Tourney who had no personal stake in making it.  I was shocked that the author went to press with this unethical comment.  And herein express my disapproval.

 

 

 

Rape of the King James

May 31, 2010

The Reviews

By  S. H. Pearson

A holy book is a manual of operations.  Without it, we are a people rudderless.  The King James is glorious high impact.  Succinct.  Lyrically-perfect.  Untouchable.  Like Gabriel’s Qur’an.  Beyond the craft of man.

Other versions of the Bible seem to me like gradations of literary corruption.  This was done so moderate Christians can be led astray over time.  It is a gradual process, this negation of God’s Word, but I see that it proceeds without obstruction.  Karl Marx can be proud of how today’s church is not so much a church as it is a social club and dating service.

There reigns supreme today a shadowy hive of linguists, writers and editors whose mission it is to castrate the Word of God.  They have re-written the Christian Bible in convoluted, wearisome gibberish, loosely adhering to and sometimes altering the text.  Their aim to me is a clear one — wear down Christians with bad writing to discourage them from consulting their Bibles.  Casting them spiritually adrift has never been easier.  Just give them a bunch of new world Bibles.  This strategy softens up the lukewarm loam of today’s congregations.  It lays open the furrows for the seeds of a new Sodom.

The writing in today’s “new and improved” version of the Bible is clear as mud to the literature scholar.  I can imagine what it must read like to the average American.  It burdens the mind to decipher all the new, “improved,” modern English that is purposefully anything but easy to understand.  The Wizard’s new world Christians are good and confused.  Now they are more easily  molded to his impending regime as they tap their feet to his contagious, happy-go-lucky pop music and sing along with his vague, bland, politically correct lyrics.

Today’s Christians have no firm foundation text.  Their manual for living has been contaminated by mumbo-jumbo.  A demoralized, mentally-scattered population is more easily seized by an iron hand.  A house divided cannot stand.  Once they lose faith in their Divine Potter, they become easy putty for the Wizard.

There are many different versions of the Bible today.  This is part of a master plan to divide and cripple Christ’s church from the inside.  The Wizard blithely encourages his Christians to study their new world Bibles.  He knows that they will get lost in the labyrinth of his meaningless jabberwocky.  He inundates them with margin citations and weighs them down with footnotes.  These footnotes are loaded with bogus decoys.  He distracts their eyes with fine print, tiny letters and numbers  in super and subscript, hoping this will further weary them.  It mentally exhausts and frustrates any reader.

Bible readers today are bombarded with instructions, details and forked roads of “useful guidance” throughout their texts.  The Wizard knows that most readers will thus give up on Bible-reading altogether — his express aim.  Where knowledge is power, ignorance is a stumbling block.  Without knowledge of God’s Word, Christians are only so by title.

Without knowledge of their Bibles, Christians are like a flock of sheep without a Good Shepherd.  The Wizard is a timeless wolf seeking whom he may devour.  Far be it from their preachers to preach it like Jesus did.  Today’s sermon dares not offend the Wizard of the New World Order.  What do you think got Jesus crucified after all — being politically correct?

It has been my finding that outside of the King James, one is not reading what the holy scribes intended.  Part of the Wizard’s plan for Christendom is to infiltrate their Bible publishers, liberalize their Vatican, cool the passions of believers and render them into tolerant, easy-going cattle.  The Wizard wants a peaceful, acquiescent herd that can be corralled and led without much struggle.  An anxious animal does not bleed-out as fast.  One gets the most out of one’s cattle if he keeps them calm and ignorant of their impending fate.  By the time they smell the blood it will be too late. 

The enemy of God has entered the churches via the Trojan horse of his “new, improved” versions of the Bible.  Now the poor Christians are out in left field, buying the lies and distortions of false prophets and misleading, centrist pastors quoting from these horrendous new world translations.

The King James Bible is considered a great work of English Literature.  As such we are familiar with its poetry.  It is written that all poets channel their verses from external and higher intelligence.  The seculars call this phenomenon “when a poet finds his muse.”  Some believers hold poetry to be the language, aye, the very signature of God.  When the Almighty sends a message through the language of man, it comes in verses.

All beauty expressed in art comes from God.  Whether a symphony, cathedral, song, sculpture or painting — if it’s any good, God had something to do with it.  I theorize that this is why certain cultures and ethnicities cannot make “art.”  They are Godless.  These are the people who invent “better” ways to make war.  They cultivate diseases in petri-dishes and develop faster-killing poisons.  One of them invented the nuclear bomb. 

I have been studying assorted new translations of God’s Word and it reads like no such thing.  What is being done to the Holy Scriptures today is corruption of the original text.  Readers are at the mercy of a committee of translators — faceless, nameless mystery writers who take it upon themselves to undo the work of God-inspired monks.  The translators, in my literary opinion, have thrown a monkey wrench into the Word of God.  They have perverted it with double-talk and gibberish that turns around what a verse is saying.  They strive to be gender-inclusive and politically correct.  These Bible-manglers fail to realize that God is not politically correct.

The new-mangled Bibles read like the work of a Marxist think-tank.  They are re-inventing a wheel that was never broken.  The King James is a pleasurable read.  There is nothing archaic or hard to understand about it.  Conversely it is the clarity of the King James that  threatens the Wizard.  This Bible came along years after William Shakespeare wrote his plays.  I don’t see them re-writing Hamlet or trying to improve on what Shakespeare wrote.  Why then do they dare to improve on the Word of God?

The Bible re-writers are a global outfit.  They read like the enemy of Christ who is working hard to dismantle His churches, confuse and divide his people and lay waste to the Holy Covenant between God and man.  Hold fast to your King James Bibles my friends.  God’s Word requires no footnotes.

The Preacher Killers

May 27, 2010

These two murders cover all the bases.  The first strikes fear into the heart of any white man behind an evangelical pulpit.  The second takes care of any black woman who wants to try it.  It is understood that some of the most passionate, spirit-filled preachers are black men.  So they are definitely in the mix.

Christ and Christians must be put down! — seems to be the message.  As though Christians are a threat to the filth, lies and corruption that our world has become.  Imagine that.  We and our Muslim brothers threaten a house of cards.   So our churches and mosques are under seige.

Speaking of domestic terrorism, Menachim Begin and his gang come to mind.  During the early days of modern Israel, according to a lecture I just heard from David Duke, Jewish terrorists were ripping live babies from the wombs of Palestinian women in order to strike fear into the hearts of other Palestinians.  The terrorists took photos of their handiwork as propaganda to encourage their hated neighbors to flee their homes.  Isn’t it quirky how today the Jews call everybody else a terrorist?

Precisely as it is written in the Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion, where it states that all you need is a little blood in the streets to get a population to do your bidding — so the method is employed by the preacher killers, random shooters,  and other cover-up jobs all over the world (too numerous for this entry).  My focus is preachers.

“Blood in the streets” has been employed as a psychological operation exactly as lectured by the satanic author of the Protocols.  It was demonstrated in the Bolshevik and Cuban Revolutions to the letter.

The Bolshevik Bloodbath came twenty years after the following text.  A “circle saw” of a read.  Hurricane page-turner.  Eloquence to smart you.  It is the minutes of a conclave that took place in Basle, Switzerland.  The First Zionist Congress of 1897 is 87 pages of hard-ball.  Get your copy soonest, http://www.amazon.com/Protocols-Meetings-Learned-Elders-Zion/dp/0944379842/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1274931040&sr=1-1#noop).

This Bilderberg of Zionists was leaked to the Britons and translated deftly.  What’s done is done.  All they can do is deny it and hope we buy it.  What else can they do?  Admit it?

To this day the Jews covet Palestinian lands and employ terrorism to expel people from their homes.  In America they just foreclose.

On 8 March 2009, Terry Sedlacek walked into a Maryville, Illinois church and shot Pastor Fred Winters to death.  Sedlacek, based on my interviews with law enforcement and local citizens of Maryville, is a fellow whom few people want to know.  I even offered money to one of his past co-workers to give me a few minutes of her time.  She rapidly declined my offer.  Did somebody already offer her more to keep her mouth shut?  Food for thought.  Boy was she quick to snap a reply, “No!”  And that was the end of it.  That woman was not talking.

Independent thought is the right of everyone. Therefore my mind is a court room.  There I get to be the prosecutor, defense attorney, medical examiner,  and forensic investigator.  In the bright light of examination, I see a diamond from every facet.  Under stereo-scopic acuity, no carbon spot escapes me.  Nor fissure or fingerprint.  I focus and take notes, write-up the report.   But God is the Judge.

Cocky.  Impetuous.  I feel like Seabiscuit before the bell.  No time for filibusters.  Fast-talking ruses can go to hell.  They have no place in my court room.  I decide what holds water.  Only the brass tacks, road-rubber and practical application are worth my time.

So here we have a 61-year-old woman from Oklahoma City who drives sixty miles (one-way) every Sunday to preach to her small congregation in Anadarko.  On 23 August 2009 there is somebody waiting for her in that little church-house.  Somebody who came in through the back door.  A nearby video camera recorded Pastor Carol Daniels’ arrival and entry through the front door.  No surveillance of the back door of course.

Later that morning a pair of congregants tried to get into the church and noticed the door locked with Daniels’ car outside.  They called police and the rest was TV news.

I believe that Daniels’ and Winters’ murders were to intimidate preachers out of the ministry like Palestinians were intimidated out of Palestine.  Pastor Daniels was found naked and cruciform, I think, as a mockery on Christendom by those who hate Jesus Christ and his Church.

Whoever did that stuff, enjoyed it.   Those who play in the blood-bath have their cheerleaders.  Like that sadistic Wikipedia “No-Name” writer who celebrated the lurid details of the Bosnia Massacres in an ocean of charactery (Srebrenica).  Similar freaks wrote about these two preachers in assorted main-stream media.   They read like propaganda mills.

Isn’t it convenient how the authorities removed the back door of Daniels’ church for evidence?  Her killers came in the back door to do her up.  Why remove the back door?  Covering whose tracks?  The killers?  Why?  Broken entries often leave clues.  I wonder what the FBI and their Okey State underlings have unearthed since then?  I wager not a jot.

To me, these murder cases are as transparent (real sense, not buzz-word) as a clean window.

*** Cursory Sources:

http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2009/03/09/national/main4852851.shtml

http://blogs.discovery.com/criminal_report/2009/09/carol-daniels.html

For psy-op purposes only  http://www.examiner.com/x-6121-Oklahoma-Crime-Examiner~y2009m8d30-Church-murder-see-the-autopsy-of-slain-pastor-Carol-Daniels-WARNING-graphic

Disappearance #2

May 21, 2010

I notice how WordPress edit mode has been gnarled-up.  They disabled full screen mode and other composition and editing functions.  They took away the image import icon by covering it with bogus, redundant “new functions.”  On blogspot, I have no copy/paste functions.   Strange co-incidence?  I doubt it.

Hence, this entry looks unprofessional.  But the content sure is there.  And so are the pictures.  Beyond my ken how I managed to post them, given the monkey wrenches.  Ever heard of the term, “let’s wing it?”  I do that a lot.

On a wing and a prayer.   

Shortly before 6:00pm I noticed small, round, sporadically-spaced clouds drifting in from the Bay.  Some were uncommonly low and did not seem natural.  They looked like cotton balls.

A small, white, twin-engine jet came from behind me.  It was noiseless and flew through a small cloud.  I watched, expecting to see the jet come out of the other side of the cloud in three seconds or less.  It never did. 

There was no place for it to have gone.  There were no other clouds near the one it had just skewered.  The trajectory of the plane was horizontal when it entered the cloud.  Unless it rocketed at a hard angle and pierced a veil that was at once illusory and obscuring — I can think of no other way for the jet to have disappeared.  Could it have been a hologram?  A projected image?  Like perhaps the moon?

The sky was an opague-blue colour.  Pastel.  A half-moon was visible directly overhead in broad daylight.  The sun was still high in the western sky and shooting bright rays over the rooves of houses when the jet disappeared.

The plane looked like it had been spray-painted white.  I snapped a photograph just before it entered the cloud.

A few months ago I saw the exact same thing happen not far from here.  It was a similar looking jet that flew into a cloud and never came out.  It entered a small cloud at good speed.  The altitude was eye-friendly.  I felt confident about what I had seen.

And phoned my home-town airport where Daddy used to keep his planes, imparting to the man there what I had seen.  He never got back to me.  I didn’t think he would.  There seems a black pall of secrecy that has been cast over all aviation.  Nobody’s talking.  Like they all had their lives threatened or something.  Air traffic controllers of every stripe are petrified with fear.  Their throats dry up and they get scared when I ask them questions.

Here is a strange drone-looking thing I saw only seconds before the jet disappeared: 

The FAA recently removed the N-Number Look-up Page from their web site.  I wonder why?  Could it be because recently I published the names of agencies to whom aircraft in my photography is registered? 

As for the disappearing jets, if over the course of my life it only happened once, then I could call it an isolated incident.  But now it has happened twice.  So that makes it a topic. 

Once again, I encourage all of you to invest in a good binocular if you have not already.  There are things going on overhead that bear considerable watching.  Some of them you can see with 20/20 naked eye.

 By these planes, it looks like a lot of contractors are cashing in on the aerosol tanker frenzy.  I have even seen old, modified prop-jobs on the band-wagon.  Anything for money.     

 (Steiner, Bushnell, Nikon, Pentax, Eagle Optics, Orion, Celestron, you get the idea)

British Petroleum

May 18, 2010

You gotta ask yourself two questions about what’s happening in the Gulf of Mexico. 

What are the chances of something like this happening? 

What could be the motive of making it happen?

Swami Says

May 2, 2010

The Reviews

By  S. H. Pearson

 

In studying the Swami’s ocean of digressive lectures, I see the aim of his handlers.  Calm the cattle.  Make the corporate workforce easier-going.  Make them more manageble, pliable, offering less resistance.  Like Eckhart Tolle, Swami says to go inside ourselves for peace and bliss.

Swami says, “You are God.”  There is no sin.  Hell is negated.  Morality is negated.  “Without an ego, we are Christ.”  Be hollow bamboo.  Just focus on your breath.   Drift on the spiritual tide.  Life has no purpose.  But death has the sting of a thousand scorpions. 

His message to the common people is that instead of aspiring to the ring, be grateful for your finger.  This serves as a universal message to the working class.  Just be happy under your yoke, pay your taxes and soldier-on.  No need to worry about what will happen to you.  You can’t do anything about it.

There is a caste system inside the cloud of democracy instead of a silver lining.  Some people are born to be mill horses according to what I see in the bean fields.  There are brown people who can’t speak English bent over fields of tomatoes, beans, strawberries and other pickables, working like slaves for next to no pay.  

All that high-flown myth about Democracy and equality is a lie.  They commission guys like swami here to lecture a schtick to the mill horses and corporate wage-slaves about how they are supposed to be thankful for their fingers and toes (if they still have them).  I wonder what swami tells the guys coming back from the fabricated war who are missing arms and legs?

The swami’s lectures support the Georgia Guidestones.  He laments present world population and says that there are enough babies in the world.  He keeps looking to his left in flitting glances — as though to seek approval  for what he just said.  Sometimes the swami forgets what he said before and contradicts himself — oops. 

Jesus Christ, I read, was a dynamic speaker.  He cast broad his golden seed to an audience so vast that he had to lecture them from a fishing boat — one that had been pushed away from the shore so they could see him.  They came from everywhere to hear Him.  Everywhere.  He didn’t charge a fee.

Democracy seems more every day like a ruse for the ruling Bolsheviks who have commandeered our ship of State.  They did it in Iraq too and look what a mess they made.  They did it in Germany and Russia.  Swami, I’m convinced,  is a Bolshevik.  He bashes Holy Matrimony, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. 

He says with reptilian demeanor that books are written to confuse people.  So he bashes books too.  Yet he learned most of what he knows from books.  Along with every engineer, scientist, medical doctor and lawyer that ever lived. 

God’s Word is written in books.  Maybe that’s why we are told that books were written to confuse people.  Certainly you will be confused by Zondervan’s offerings.  Avoid them.  Seek rather minimalist copies of  King James Bible (1611) and The Holy Qur’an.  God’s Word is crystal clear and requires no footnotes.  Man cannot improve on it.  That’s how you will know it’s God’s Word.  Because He is a straight-shooter.  Read those two Books and you’ll have legs to stand on.   

There are no wasted words or hot air in Qur’an and King James.  Nor convoluted mumbo-jumbo with 500,000 margin notes.  For that, consult Zondervan Publishing or the recently re-named Biblica (formerly International Bible Society, yeah-right).  First they merged with Send the Light (paa-leez).  Then they changed their name.  But can a leopard change his spots?  Hell no.

Back to Swami.  His message has a pervasive theme:  Worry is bootless.  Be open, receptive and gullibe.  But fear death because it will hurt.  Don’t aspire to a better life because you’ll soon be reincarnated.

Swami never defines enlightenment but claims to be enlightened himself.  He dangles this mystery before his audience like a carrot, a piece of candy or the Holy Grail.  Swami says there are many levels that must be attained before one reaches “the Master” who will lead a seeker to enlightenment.  But he never goes into detail about these levels.  Maybe we should track down Robert Buhlman and Gary Zukav to ask them about it.

Death needs to be feared or else the threat of global terrorism would lose its sting.  Hence the 1000 scorpions.  I get it.  So life is purposeless.  We should give thanks for our slavery.  There is no such thing as right or wrong.  We make our own hell by thinking too much and feeling guilty for our wrong-doings.  Swami says the key to enlightenment is “thoughtless awareness.”

The human mind tends to think that if B is true, then A and C must also be true.  Seems like Swami is banking on this as he mixes his apples.  They come at you fast.  By the time you sort the fruit, you begin to know him.  You cannot pilot the spirit on rotton apples.  I don’t care who is tossing them at you.