Have you ever been in a situation when you knew it would be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, but it posed great risk to your very life? That is exactly what I was facing in August of 1991 when I looked at the huge Kharbour River bridge that lay out ahead of me. Take a look at my excerpt from my memoirs, The Most Intelligent of Idiots. It will stir your emotions...

A Bridge To Cross

“There are two ways to enslave a people. People do not give up their Freedom. They naturally take it for granted. The search for Freedom has always been the driving force that has risen bowed down and beaten men and women up from the ashes and transformed them into warriors of their people. It is the final understanding that no person can make me free, but the realization that I am altogether and utterly free, such liberty having been breathed into the nostrils of the first man and woman by God.”

Steven Clark Bradley

A Bridge To Cross

The Most Intelligent of Idiots

The Memoirs of

Author Steven Clark Bradley

Ankara, Turkey

July 23, 1991

Thank Goodness for the Guney Express. The word ‘express’ truly was a misnomer for this train. The Guney Express, which I boarded on July 23rd, took me all the way to the Eastern border of Turkey in a rapid time of four days. It was not that I boarded the wrong train but rather that I choose this train for a journey that gave me a tremendous look at the culture of Turkey, from the modern center of the country to the rustic and tough Eastern portion.

I felt many eyes on me; the foreigner seldom seen on such archaic forms of travel as the slowest train in the Turkish rail system. By the time I arrived in Diyarbakir, the capitol of the east and the unofficial capitol of Kurdistan, I had seen the fields being prepared for harvest, the towns that were continually rattled by sand storms and a people rough and hardened by a life that is mean and laborious. Nevertheless, I could not but respect these people for their determination to ilk out a very good life in the sand of a moderately desert lifestyle.

Diyarbakir, Turkey
Train Station
3:15 p.m. July 27, 1991

Diyarbakir’s appearance was nothing short of a page out of some spaghetti western. It is a rugged city with teeming groups of nomadic tribesmen from the Kurdish population. The train station was more like a stable, and as I ventured out to the streets to take a bus to the border with Iraq, I felt like a sore on the end of someone’s nose. I boarded a minibus for the border town of Silopi. The trip was astounding. The periodic police stops, and the road that ran along the Syrian border, created a tense situation as outposts were set up from both sides about every 100 yards. It was easy to see guns trained on each side.

It was dark when I arrived in the border town of Silopi, but long lines of trucks were still ferrying goods and tanker after tanker was rumbling through the small teeming town of desperate people. Massive vehicles passed by in both directions through the very primitive city that had more importance to the trade between Turkey and Iraq than the city’s appearance would indicate. They were headed for the border to cross the Khabur River massive bridge where halfway across puts you into Iraq.

Normally, the lines of loud smoky trucks would be at a standstill, as they waited their turns to hopefully pass through customs and get security clearance. Sometimes, the line could back up the trade traffic a few dozen kilometers between the two very different countries. When I was there, the traffic flowed unabated because, as I would discover the next day, the border was totally unmanned with no security in place on the Turkish side of the Khabur and the trucks passed back and forth unimpeded.

I got out of the van and went into a bus depot and heard someone on a pay phone speaking English. He was a reporter, I surmised, and I actually never spoke to him. I just intently listened to what he was saying to the person on the other end of the line, wherever that could have been. He was screaming into the receiver that his superiors had to get him out of there and that ‘They’ were killing Americans.

He told them that he was going to try to get to the US base four kilometers down the same road that had brought me into the seriously out of control population center of helicopters, US jets high in the air and the sounds of gunfire randomly being propelled into the air. I was sure I’d see Clint Eastwood walk into the depot any moment and ask everyone if they felt lucky. That atmosphere seemed perfect for a gunslinger to burst in shooting. It was no use waiting to use the phone. I didn’t have anyone to call. I instantly snatched up my backpack and went back outside to find a taxi all the way to the US military encampment.

As I waited for a taxi to appear, two Iraqi Syrian Christian men started speaking to me in broken English. I knew that the Kurdish people loved the French, because President François Mitterrand had brought so many of them to France to escape the terror of Saddam. So, not being sure of anyone there, I said, “Je suis Français.” They understood and instantly said, “Oh, you are a French man?” I simply said yes, in French. They gave me directions and one of them got a taxi for me and told the man where I wanted to go … I hoped.

The most interesting part of this story was after I had returned to Ankara. I was walking down Ataturk Boulevard and ran into the same two Iraqi Christians who had flagged down the taxi for me in Silopi. I greeted them in English, having forgotten about my little ruse when I had told them I was French. They were surprised and told me that they thought I was French. I told them that in Iraq, I was French. In Turkey, I’m American.

The driver tried his English on me and it helped me a lot. I was really feeling naked in the taxi as the driver drove me in the dark to where I was told the American Airbase was, at almost 9:00 p.m. Prayer is such a great help in a test or when you wonder if you are about to die. He pulled up to the main entrance of the airbase; I got out and the taxi immediately drove away.

The officers who greeted me at that late hour were not ecstatic about my presence, but I needed a place to sleep. The guards were of course doing his duty, but initially they refused to help me. I told him that he would have to shoot me then, because I was sleeping outside the gate and that if I was killed, it would be on his head. I remember telling him that I paid his salary. He laughed and said, “Yes, sir. Indeed you do.”

He finally relented and called his superior who had already bedded down for the night. In the end, I was given a hot, smoldering room on a cot right off of the radio room. It was so hot that I slept naked and woke up drenched. At first, it was so hot that I couldn’t sleep at all, but the constant chatter back and forth over the radios in the next room almost hypnotized me and after about an hour, I nodded off.

The next morning turned out to be one to remember. Early in the morning, after a tremendous breakfast, I met with the director of the UN in the town. He informed me that if I entered the country of Iraq and was captured, I would be responsible for myself. That was not delightful to hear, but I had already known that. A military vehicle took me to the Khabur River Bridge. They dropped me in front of the abandoned checkpoint.

Out in front of me was the long Khabur River Bridge. The other side of that bridge was the land of Saddam Hussein, which had only recently been pummeled to bits by Coalition forces. There were not even any Iraqi government authorities at the checkpoint and everyone was coming and going at will. I walked up to the bridge and began to walk across. When I arrived at the center of the bridge, a sign was posted that indicated that one or two more steps and I would plant my feet in the country of Iraq.

I did pause momentarily, but nothing could stop a moment whose time had come. I walked on and felt the weight of entering a land like this one. I had previously visited 31 other countries, but this journey had so far been, by far, the most intriguing. I had made a promise to Hassan, and I intended to let his family know that he was alive and well.

When I reached the checkpoint on the Iraqi side of the bridge, I saw large numbers of officers. They looked like something out of the Arabian Knights. These guards were called the Pesh Merga. They wore large turbans, patchwork gowns and strapped across each shoulder was an automatic rifle, rocket launcher or bazooka, not to mention knives and swords at their sides. I was of the impression that security was to put your mind at ease. To say the least, it did not.

I walked up to one of the guardians of the land of sad, bad memories and black gold and handed him a letter that I had received from my Kurdish friends at the Besh Yildiz Hotel in Ankara, Turkey. The black-bearded relic from the past took the letter and read it before calling over two more officers. One took me by the arm and placed me in the backseat of a taxi. The third guard brought over a thick blanket and covered my exposed body. I was on my way; to live, to die, and to do something significant.

The taxi drove and I looked out from under the blanket at the mountains that passed rapidly past my eyes. It was surreal and somehow enlightening to see all of Saddam’s military outposts every thousand yards along the road. That was how he kept his nation of slaves at bay.

I poked my face out from under the blanket and thoughts began to race through my mind about my childhood, my friends, the ones I love and the previous places I had been to, which had molded who I was, for good or for not so good. This definitely had not been my first trip of this sort. There had been Bangladesh, Pakistan, and Senegal, West Africa.

It is mystical and powerful how one’s mind goes back in time when we are in dangerous situations. That was exactly what was happening to me as I saw the mountains that were full of snipers, blown up tanks and other Iraqi destroyed materiel. I just wondered just how far back would my mind take me as I took in all that was zooming past me and around me, so much so that I had not even checked to see if the driver were taking me captive or taking me to my desired destination. I could see in my whole life playing out like a mental movie quite possibly because I was sure this would be my last journey into madness.

The world I had seen and lived in and how it had brought me to that present moment affected me as the world of Saddam and the world I had grown up in both flashed past my mind and I saw all the lives I had touched and those that had made life worth living. It all played back for me so vividly with a view from the backseat and took my mind back to times rarely recalled; times I did great things; moments I was stupid. It all was an essential part for my transformation into the most intelligent of idiots…



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Is this not what we have battled against, for which we gave our blood to free men and women and children from such displays of the hatred of one's skin color?


Look at the videos and then ask yourself if this was the administration you voted for; most certainly, I did not.



Look at the case against two Black Panthers who intimidated and interupted voters, after this federal court case had allready been won.

I cannot believe this nation will let... Eric Holder's Justice department drop a case in which it had already gotten a conviction against the dispicable and anarchist behavior, that if sufficiently, diabolically organized, it could roll up the nation and make it an historic wasteland. Is this the administration this country so hypnotically voted for? Yes it is, sadly.




Millions of us, both famous and those of us who are just not willing to go down without a fight warned this nation about what would be the result of a President Barack Obama. Alas, it is coming to pass.

Like myself and so many of you, we are America under attack by many who no more love this country than Bin Laden does and we have granted them citizenship.

The Carnege's of the past and those who came here to strike it rich and to employ millions upon millions of Americans to work, regardless of their faith, their race, their color or creed. They came to strike it rich, and were in sharp contrast to the masses who are here illegally.


Yet, the illegals are not as a great a danger to the very existence of this nation, this society as those who got to our shores and gained their citizenship, sought only for the purpose destroying us.




While the diversity on the one hand is a cherished and strengthening thing for America. Yet, this nation refused to merge, to mingle and to cherish each other differences and became way too petty and too easily offended to the point that thought will have to be outlawed to keep the peace.



So, we have granted the riches of this nation to men and women who hate what we stand for, and what we will fight to keep. Watch this footage and debate on this Black Panther case that had already been found guilty. These convicted thugs were awaiting sentencing and Eric Holder, the very smart and devious and totally despicable Attorney General of the United States submitted a VOLUNTARY DISMISSAL OF ALL CHARGES AGAINST THESE TWO CONVICTED MEN.


The two men who you will hear say that they need to kill of few of your babies, and who had already been convicted, are now FREE MEN!


After watching this and please tell me if you can support the Obama Administration that could do such a thing. Tell me if you are willing to rush headlong over the Cliff of oblivion for this group of thugs now running the nation. Take a look and ask yourself ... do like living in Obama's America? - Steven
Clark Bradley











Do you find it still impossible that this great nation of freedom could be overrun by forces, not from a foreign power, but by forces that have been ordered to turn upon their own people. Right now, the voices of the American have been loud and passionate. All the polls show that this government is contravening the clear and verifiable will of the American people. This government and this president is stubbornly going against the large majority of the American electorate to put in place a plan for nationalized health care that will change our nation forever.
Steven Clark Bradley - Author of
Patriot Acts Nimrod Rising StillBorn! Probable Cause








Steven Clark Bradley's Blogs http://www.stevenbradley.net/ http://stevenclarkbradleyspatriotacts.blogspot.com/

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In “The Second Republic – Patriot Acts Part II,” the President of the United States is confronted with a radical underground secret cabal that has targeted America with a domestic bio-terror attack that dwarfs the assault unleashed on September 11, 2001.

This second book in the Patriot Acts trilogy takes the reader inside the White House where treachery and terrorism boils below its underbelly. While trying to avoid invoking emergency powers that could destroy American constitutional freedoms, a former Special Ops officer, now the President of the United States, races to stop a deadly virus, which has killed thousands of innocent Americans.

This Fisher Harrison saga, The Second Republic, is an action thriller that could appear on any of today’s headlines, on any given day with a plausible scenario for the death of humankind that is too frighteningly conceivable for comfort.

Everyone has a self interest. I think when dealing in security, it is important to find single-minded people whose single interest of all, because benefiting himself saves the rest of us.

I think the big bucks they get is not a problem. It is important that they not be tempted to farm out their tech skills, and that means giving them their due, and then some, is better than giving it all to the loony tunes in the environmental terrorists.

You know, this new project, Patriot Acts III has caused me to delve into techno material more than I ever have. I have always been for the need to fight control of our free wills to win and to fail. I've done much more of the latter than I ever have of the prior. This one I have really gone into the deep water to weave a tale around computer tech and mind control and what can happen to high tech in the wrong hands with a people asleep at the helm. It has been an education.

The biggest thing I can say from it is that I have a new appreciation for how new wars are fought or shall be, and how freedom as we knew it, shall never be again, because of situations being orchestrated by governments that go beyond the imagination of most. Writers can look at where we are and draw it out to a fictional, logical conclusion, such as I paint in this trilogy, of how real a threat our tales could actually be.

Albert Einstein said he did not know what weapons would be used in World War three, but that he was sure that World War four would be sticks and stones.

Steven Clark Bradley

Chapter 11

Westville, Indiana

March 6, 2011, 5:12 AM

“You lazy kid. You better hit it. I’m not calling you out again,” Elmer Risner said, as he slammed the front door behind him and entered the crisp morning air. “A boy’s got to have something to do, ‘cause this farm’s not gonna run itself. Can’t you learn anything from your old man? This lazy generation of no-good kids. Wants everything handed to them on a silver platter. We ain’t got no silver platter. All we got is hard work.”

He crossed the backyard and trudged over to the big barn’s front door. He grabbed the door and yanked it open; as he had done each and every day of every year he had been old enough to move it. He inched his body across the threshold where his nose caught a strong earthen-type odor he had never smelled before. The door hinges creaked as Elmer stepped into the barn halfway reluctant about what made that smell. The cows and the horses, even the mule had heard this morning ritual so many times that they did not even fret at the early morning sound of the barn door opening.

What concerned him was not so much the barn’s smell as the hogs’ rather uncharacteristic silence. Those pigs always made a “feed me” racket when he approached them. Their incessant squeals annoyed him. This morning, the lack of noise puzzled him.

He walked toward the pigpen and grouched all the way, “Hey, you pigheaded beasts. What’d ya’ll do, did ya all up and die on … me?”

Elmer Risner bent forward to see what had been the best, most prized beasts of all his livestock. The mess appeared to be something that slightly resembled a pig or pigs, but he couldn’t be sure. Something greasy covered all fifteen of his prize hog’s skins. They had the appearance of being dead days before, but Elmer had fed them the night before. He reached out and touched one of the pig’s ears. The material covering all of them got on his right hand. He held his hand up to his eyes, squished it between his fingers, smelled it, and then wiped his hand on his overalls.

“Last night was the first I used of the new batch of feed.” he said, as he grabbed one of the hog’s legs to pull it out of the pen. As he yanked on the heavy, dead swine, its leg broke loose in his hand.

“What the hell?” Elmer Risner said, as he kneeled and gathered the rotten carcass in his arms pulled and tugged and finally pulled it out of the pen and into the center of the barn where he could see it more clearly. It was a pig, all right, but it appeared to be melting before his eyes. He ran to his truck and backed up into the barn. He loaded the dead hog onto the forklift’s metal plate, and scooped the rotten remains into the truck bed.

“I’m gonna show ‘em the damn thing and get my money back. They killed my prized hogs.”

Washington, D.C.

March 6, 2011. 9:05 a.m.

The black train of slow-moving limousines drove a southerly route on the Potomac River Parkway; a place the Vice President William T. MacDonald had particularly loved. The majestic last example of a whole nation’s grief continued south to Constitution Avenue West. As the motorcade slowly drove down the center of the massive avenue, not another car could be seen. A massive number of people on foot stood silently on the curbside and prayed.

No signs or protesters dared to break the silence. No one made a single statement to detract from the sad, solemn moment that trailed past their weeping eyes. Their friend whom they were getting to know had been suddenly taken from them. Camera snaps could be heard, but not in typical paparazzi-type rush of fervor. Rather the desire to capture history, as sad as it certainly was, could simply not be withstood. Vice President MacDonald’s grieving widow and two girls, still in their teens, waved politely to the crowds, and it all gave them such hope.

As the limo that carried the slain Vice President to his last official meeting passed the Organization of American States, Carrie MacDonald observed the very beautiful and completely heartfelt image of a woman in U.S. Marine uniform who stood at attention with her two daughters flanking her on her left and her right. Carrie’s heart took on a better note to play in her head; one a lot more patriotic. The children would face terribly difficult questions; questions Carrie had not even personally dealt with, yet. The squeeze of a trigger had not only changed the family’s future, the world would be radically altered.

When the entourage passed between the White House and the Washington Monument, the whole train stopped and paused with the President’s office view to the left, and the spire of Washington to the right. The respectful homage became real as the car turned onto Pennsylvania Avenue and onto Capitol Hill. Throngs of people, some wept, others simply watched, all demonstrated the day’s sadness on their faces.

The U.S. Marines hoisted the flag-draped casket, bearing the body of a young Vice President, who had been an obvious choice for his party’s nomination for President in 2016. The great doors opened wide as they rolled down the marble-laden glory of the Capitol Building and with honors; they placed his coffin in the rotunda that had only ever been reserved for Presidents.

Westville, Indiana

March 6, 2011, 9:20 a.m.

Large rolling fields of corn and the combine engines revving up filled the air in the farming community of Westville, Indiana, each morning. Today would be different. A rickety 1980 GMC truck barreled into the small town square. That wasn’t the usual vehicle that Elmer Risner drove into town, but what he loaded in the back had necessitated that he use the old beater, which sounded like a freight train and smoked like an oilfield on fire. He barely applied the brakes before he turned into the parking space in front of the feed store and jumped out of the truck.

Elmer opened the tailgate and pulled the old hog carcass onto the ground wrapped up in an old plastic tarp. He opened the feed store door and pushed it open with his foot and dragged the dead hog behind him into the center of the establishment.

“So, what the hell is this?”

A startled group of farmers turned when the smell permeated the air and entered the nostrils of everyone in the store and that included some women and children that wanted to shop early that morning.

The shop owner stopped him, “Elmer, are you crazy, you stupid hillbilly? You can’t bring that in here. I won’t get the smell out of here for ten years.”

“Carl, you broke it. So, now you bought it,” Elmer shouted.

The store proprietor walked out from behind the counter to observe the putrid-smelling, slime-covered animal. “What the hell is it?” he asked Elmer.

“What is it? It’s a pig, Carl … a pig, that’s what it was, at least, and one of my best ones, but that don’t matter, ‘cause they is all dead, down to the last everyone of them.”

“What’s this … stuff all over it?”

“Beats me, but I want my money back and some to boot. I fed ‘em that feed you sold me for the first time, last night. Then I wakes this morning and look what I got?”

A big whiff of the rotting beast pinched Carl’s nose, and he stepped back. “Now Elmer, I don’t know what’s going on here this morning, but you’ll have to get this thing outta my store and back into your truck. Then come back in here, and we’ll put you on the list.”

“List … what list?” Elmer asked with an air of not understanding plastered across his sun-dried face.

“Elmer, you might be the only one who dragged one of their dead porks in here, but you ain’t the only one who fed their hogs last night. Carl walked back behind the counter and pulled out a piece of paper. “I got a list of eleven, now twelve, with you. Now, get that damn thing outta here and come back in and …”

Carl gasped. “What’s wrong with your face, Elmer?”

“My face? It’s the same damn face I’ve always had.”

Everyone backed up and rushed out of the feed store. Elmer saw his reflection in the mirror behind the counter. A thin coating of the same greasy material that had been on the pig covered his neck and jaw-line. Elmer wiped it off. The blood red skin burned under it. “I guess I got some of it on me.”

“Elmer, get that damn thing outta here, and I mean right now.” Carl wrote Elmer’s name on the list as Elmer covered the hog and dragged it outside. He touched the skin on his neck and jaw areas as they now burned like a hot poker and large blisters began to form.

“I’m guessing you ought to get to a hospital. That looks pretty festered.”

A frightened Elmer Risner pulled the animal to the truck, and it nearly broke his back as he tried to haul it up into the truck bed. He turned to his farmer friends. “Ain’t none of you gonna help me?”

Everyone turned and without word, walked away. Elmer’s limitations multiplied as he found it hard to raise his head. He made it to the truck and left the dead, slimy hog lying on the ground in front of the feed store.

Two dogs came up to the beast sniffing, and they dug their canines into the rotten meat. When Harold Minix, a farmer and close friend to Elmer Risner, noticed his dogs, he yelled at them. “Stop that.”

The dogs raised their hungry mouths up to meet their master’s voice their muzzles covered with the greasy slime. “Now, I got to take you home and wash ya both. Get your asses in this truck right now.”

Elmer drove erratically, not out of anger, but he simply could not see the roadway. He glanced at himself in the rearview mirror. His distorted and virulent face distracted his attention from the road, and the truck ran off the road and into a ditch.

The huge, old truck came to a very sudden stop. Elmer’s head hit the steering wheel, but the gash on his forehead didn’t bother him. Instead, he pulled down the collar of his shirt in time to see the skin on his neck melt away and expose his neck bones.

Tears filled his eyes and a searing heat consumed his body with fire. He tried to scream, but no sound came from his inflamed throat. Elmer looked at himself one last time until his eyes began to melt, and then agonizing pain followed him into darkness.

In his blindness, Elmer fumbled to his right and pulled his gun from the glove compartment and placed the barrel to the side of his head. “It ain’t gonna eat me like them pigs.”

Something like boiling oil engulfed his stomach, and his skin bubbled up and down his legs and arms with a pain was so intense that he could barely hold the gun to his head. He tried to pull the trigger, but with no strength left in his arms, he dropped it to his side and fell over on the seat and screamed one last time before he disintegrated into slimy, silent sludge.

* * *

Harold Minix headed back to his farm north on Indiana 421 to get his dogs washed up before his kids got close to them. He noticed Elmer’s truck off in the ditch up ahead and pulled up behind it and approached the accident scene. “Elmer? You okay?” He peered through the open driver’s side window and screamed, “God save us all.” And he threw up his breakfast all over the side of Elmer’s truck.

He regained his composure and rushed back to his truck to find his cell phone. As he neared his truck, he noticed his dogs hadn’t barked and weren’t visible to him. Any other time they would have been yapping and out of truck bed and at his side. He reached the back of his truck, and what he saw hurt him nearly as much as seeing Elmer’s rotten corpse.

Both unrecognizable dogs lay covered in the same greasy slime and appeared to be matted to the truck bed. He unconsciously scratched his itching arms and realized they were fully engulfed in blisters.

“I’m gonna die, but I ain’t gonna let no one else die, if I can help it.” He dialed 911.

* * *

Carl tried not to gag from the stench, finished mopping the feed store floor, picked up the Rolodex. The operator placed him on hold. “Come on. This is an emergency.”

Someone came on the line. “Hello, CDC, what can I do for you?”

______________________________

Available Now!!! Available Now!!! Available Now!!!
The Second Republic: E-Book version
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The Second Republic: E-Book version
Get it at: http://www.writewordsinc.com/serepaacvo2...

What would America do if we were faced with a horrendous terrorist attack that no amount of security could stop?

In “The Second Republic – Patriot Acts Part II,” the President of the United States is confronted with a radical underground secret cabal that has targeted America with a domestic bio-terror attack that dwarfs the assault unleashed on September 11, 2001.

This second book in the Patriot Acts trilogy takes the reader inside the White House where treachery and terrorism boils below its underbelly. While trying to avoid invoking emergency powers that could destroy American constitutional freedoms, a former Special Ops officer, now the President of the United States, races to stop a deadly virus, which has killed thousands of innocent Americans.

This Fisher Harrison saga, The Second Republic, is an action thriller that could appear on any of today’s headlines, on any given day with a plausible scenario for the death of humankind that is too frighteningly conceivable for comfort.

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Martial Law has been declared, American Troops have been deployed on the streets of all the major cities of America. Americans have been ordered off the streets and into their homes. Patriotic Americans take to the streets to fight for their freedom, and are shot on sight. Does this sound impossible? Does it seem like that could never happen in the home of the free and the land of the brave?

Yet, when a free people no longer cherishes their freedom, when the previous generation no longer passes on the heritage that shed its blood to gain their liberty the only result can be the loss of appreciation and undervaluing of the truths that forged our nation. Such behavior, such lack of resolve to pass on the truths of the American experiment will not make the fall of the republic possible. In truth it will make the loss of liberty, self governance and self determination inevitable.
Steven Clark Bradley
Author of Patriot Acts Nimrod Rising StillBorn! Probable Cause

The Consortium

Chapter Eighteen

Georgetown, Washington D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:47 p.m.

At his home, frightened, angry and ready to run, Richard Leitner, the newest former Secretary of the Treasury by virtue of his firing by President Fisher Harrison earlier in the day, stood at his study in Georgetown, truly one of the classiest famous neighborhoods located in all of the Washington D.C. metropolitan area. He was shamed and out of a job. He looked out the large bay windows of his nine million dollar overlook of the Potomac River front. He had given his life for the Consortium, now; he faced certain ruin and shame all because of a president of less than two weeks who thought he could just throw his career and reputation in the garbage.

“I’ll be damn if he’ll take it all away from me.” He yelled out to no one in particular, with the sincerity of the traitor he was.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:49 p.m.

The trucks that had now encircled the US Capitol were not silent about it. Shots could be heard in the distance, and every person in the Chamber, political, journalistic, civilian or military knew that something was getting ready to explode. Fisher wondered if the pressure was to induce capitulation, or if or if more radical measures were planned to bring about the fall of the government of the United States.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the sound you hear outside these cherished walls, is the sound of threat and the total loss of liberty, the hands totalitarian rulers that will replace one of freedom and thought, which ultimately took it all for granted. Those sounds can never lead to peace, but should provoke a response. Tonight I give you my reply to the Consortium.”

Georgetown, Washington D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:49 p.m.

After Leitner left the Oval office, earlier in the day, he felt ill, nauseous and absolutely terrified. He had traced his steps back and realized that Morgenthau had given him a drink in the limousine to calm his nerves and to persuade Leitener that the Consortium had another job for the now unemployed former Secretary of the soon to be debunked Treasury.

“I just wasn’t cut from the same bitter cloth that Morgenthau and Berkowitz were.” Leitner told himself and rubbing the back of his head. “They know it too.” Leitner’s heart seemed to skip a beat when he thought about what they would do to him. “I’ve been such a coward, only good for final options.” Leitner told the afternoon air.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:51 p.m.

“Earlier today, I asked for a meeting with the Federal Reserve Chairman Mr. Timothy Morgenthau and the Secretary of the Treasury Mr. Richard Leitner. As all of us realized very quickly, when we rose this morning that all of our lives had changed forever, during the night. Our money was gone, our economy was collapsing and tens of thousands of troops have been dispersed throughout the country with the authorization of no one inside the United States government.

“I welcomed these two men into the Oval Office with the hope of being informed as to the nation’s security and financial survival. Keep in mind, these are the men and women who fed the SPU, which we had only recently taken down by force.

“It has been estimated that these men and women of money-lust lost over eight hundred billion dollars when the SPU fell. Now, these hidden-away forces, the same powers who were directly responsible in the deaths by assassination of two great Presidents, Abraham Lincoln and John F. Kennedy who had both spoken out against the Consortium.”

Georgetown, Washington D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:52 p.m.

Richard Leitner continued peering out his bay windows, beyond the Potomac. He could see the great majestic dome out in the distance. The Capitol’s lights that covered the circumference of the dome along with the White House seemed like the coliseum without gladiators. The lights illuminating the darkening sky gave off a false sense of power and filled the almost night sky with thoughts of a once greater day of the power of the American Republic.

“It’s only an image, now; more like a fable.” Leitner said aloud while never taking his eyes off of the capitol building. Somehow, Leitner was surprised that it hurt him to see it all tottering so. He had been sure that the end of the government would somehow be a great thing. Then he felt the claws of the Consortium extend their reach when they were forced to recoup their money. Yet, against his will, he wished it could be as it had always been, but he knew it would never be again. That image, the great country, which had helped defeated nations rather than crushing them would soon become members of the ‘Used to be powerful’ club.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:54 p.m.

“This afternoon, in the Oval Office, two extortionists, men in whom the country had placed its trust, sought to force my government’s hand to give them eight hundred billion dollars today or in two hours face the complete and utter collapse the economy of the United States.

“Since 4:00 a.m. this morning, these evil hoarders of wealth have siphoned off five trillion dollars and distributed it to other countries as seen fit by the Consortium. It is their intension that America never be free again.”

Georgetown, Washington D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:55 p.m.

America was only minutes from a fundamental transformation, and Leitner knew it. In fact, he knew everything that the Consortium had planned, which he also knew made him a very great threat to the cabal. The former Secretary of the Treasury realized that he had become a liability, a danger, a useless mind full of all the tactics, mechanisms and plans of an international club of cutthroat financial terrorists who would stop at nothing now to get all the power they craved. Leitner knew he had failed them.

He remembered going to the Doctor to get rid of the massive headache he had endured since Morgenthau gave him the drink. All he could recall afterwards was waking up in his bed. He still wasn’t sure that the Doctor and the headache had been real or a dream. The pain in the back of his head was no dream, though.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:57 p.m.

Fisher picked up a copy of Kennedy’s 1963 Executive Order for the printing and the circulation of silver backed dollars. “Here is a piece of history that is now serving as a true sign of God’s hand to protect us.

Ft. Myer Military Personnel Division
Joint Base Myer-Henderson
Ft. Myer, Virginia
March 11, 2011 4:57 p.m.

Peter Barlow and Warren Berkowitz knew exactly where Richard Leitner was at the moment. They could see his every movement.

“Warren, he’s going to be on the move. Should we activate him?”

“Well, I’d rather just terminate him, ha-ha, for the second time today, just in a more permanent manner, if you know what I mean, but that would take all the Irony out of the plan.” Berkowitz said.
“You are a witty one, Berkowitz, but right now, I need an answer.”

“Considering that this is the only remaining use for the wimp, so, let’s squeeze his last drop if utility right out of him, Peter, my man. Activate now.”

Both Peter Barlow and Warren Berkowitz saw Leitner’s front door open slowly. Peter placed Leitner’s new ID into the computer and the link to the chip that had been planted in the back of his head only hours earlier, at the doctor’s office, came to life.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:59 p.m.

“Firstly, before riding over to the Capitol today, I signed an Executive Order instructing the US Treasury to print gold and silver backed currency. This process is already underway. In addition, I have issued an order that Federal Reserve notes shall no long be accepted as legal tender for the payment of debts or for issuing credit at midnight, March 25, 2010. All Federal Reserve notes will be turned in and an equal amount of Silver Backs will be returned to you.

Georgetown, Washington D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:59 p.m.

Richard Leitner decided to get out while he still could. He had frantically run around his house gathering the things a single bachelor would need or want. He had closed all the blinds, locked every window and door and set the surveillance system then picked up the two suitcases he had had just enough time to prepare. He planned to drive over to the Treasury to confiscate some personal files and things. Then, his whole body felt like it had been hit by a massive bold of lightning and made him drop the suitcases and the front door key to the ground. His head again began to pound and he threw up all over his front porch and his hand searched on the ground for the key.

“Richard … Richard Leitner, forget the key, forget the door; forget the suitcases.”

Leitner raised his head. Puke had splattered, all over his face. He heard the voice, and it sounded like someone right next to him. He rose off his knees and stood looking around in every direction.
“I know you’re confused. Who wouldn’t be? The sickness will go away soon.”

“Who are you … where are you?”

“That does not matter. We need your help, and then you can be free to live your life.”

Leitner laughed. “I know Berkowitz. Evidently, you do not. Perhaps Morgenthau would give me another chance. Not, Warren; if you asked him about me, he’d say he had already forgotten about me and to learn not to care.”

“Yes, in fact, that’s exactly what he said.”

“I don’t care either. So, get in your car and drive to the Capitol and walk up to the main entrance and show your pass. It’s still active, I checked. Someone will be there to give you something. Take it and wait for further instructions.” Peter ordered Leitner.

Leitner was still feeling sick and fought against the involuntary movements that the voice in his head seemed to be able to control. After a minute, the pain in his head was gone, the fear was nonexistent and he was under Peter Barlowe’s command.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 5:01 p.m.

“While speaking with Treasury Secretary Richard Leitner this afternoon, I informed him that he was being terminated from his job. The Assistant Secretary of the Treasury is the interim Chief Financial Officer of the United States. I have also issued a warrant for former Secretary of the Treasury Leitner for treason as traitor of the United States and an enemy combatant based on his profound cooperation with the Consortium.

22,000 Feet and descending over Belgium
March 11, 2011 1:01 a.m. G.M.T.

“Yes, yes, Peter, you have done well. But then, the guy’s so fearful that we probably didn’t need to spend the money to chip him. I really like that part about forgetting the key and the door; oh, and the suitcases. That was a hoot.” Berkowitz said and laughed. “I mean, he won’t be needing it anymore, anyway. Oh, the things we do for our country.”

“Leitner’s walking up to the main entrance of the capitol as we speak.” Both Barlowe and Berkowitz went silent and just watched Leitner carryout their orders.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 5:03 p.m.

“Finally, tonight is a night that history will record as the gravest danger that the United States has ever endured. Will it record that we capitulated or that we prevailed against a richer and more advanced enemy, because that’s how we won the first revolution, against incomparable odds, and that is how we shall win the second.”

Everyone in the chamber rose to their feet and applause rang out. Fisher let them express their hope and courage while American troops surrounded the Capitol with tanks pointing their turrets towards an army’s own government.

Ft. Myer Military Personnel Division
Joint Base Myer-Henderson
Ft. Myer, Virginia
March 11, 2011 5:03 p.m.

Peter heard what President Harrison had just said, and so had Berkowitz. He knew Berkowitz would order the attack, now that President Harrison proved himself to be all the Warren Berkowitz had said he was. Peter disconnected from Berkowitz for a moment and flipped a switch on a router at just the moment Berkowitz was cut out.

“What was that?” Peter asked Berkowitz. “I hope you have all this crap verified.”
“Trust me boy, have I betrayed you?”

Peter laughed and sneered as he spoke back to Berkowitz. “Of course not; you still need me.” Peter replied. “Trust you, not the best choice of words. Warren, earlier today, you brutally wiped out the one person you actually choose as a child to be with you. Yang didn’t have to die. I worked with him, and he was a great young man, full of reasons to have been kept alive. So, don’t ask me to trust you.”

“Is your mind still back at that courthouse? I had already forgotten him. Let me tell you, I think of people as opportunities. I refuse to be attached to any one of them. I have outlasted everyone of my generation, Peter, my boy, simply because I don’t care. Those three words make the world go round. We have caused uprisings and have squelched them when they had served us enough. We’ve fought wars and supported both sides, killed millions, saved as many and have forgotten so many, many more than we remember and we did it all with money. That’s paper, Peter my man. The only way to survive in the midst of that kind of experience is to let yourself be devoured by it; to let it overtake you until the pain and lack of mercy all around you no longer moves you, until you say with sincerity, I don’t care.”

“And that’s the world I am helping you create? Maybe I’m on the wrong side.” Peter taunted Berkowitz.

“It’s the only world I’ll let be and live. Let’s check out the equipment, what ya say? Are the links all set?”

Berkowitz pushed enter and a transfer of over five trillion dollars started from hundreds of thousands of banks across the nation to two hundred and fifty different banks in thirty-five different international banks. “It’s our money. It has our name on it and that big eye over the pyramid kept our investment secure. Now, the risks far outweigh the benefits.” Berkowitz told Peter.

Peter pressed enter and almost all of the one hundred forty-five thousand troops now distributed across the nation came under the Consortium’s control.

“There are a couple hundred links that are down, but they’ll be overrun. The board’s lit up and I’m activating the trucks.” Peter told Berkowitz.

Peter typed in the number of ten of the chips that had been embedded. The computer found them and sent out a super secure inscription to them. Peter typed the command.

“Encircle the US Capitol, activate the devices and wait for further orders.”

The infantrymen started their trucks and stationed themselves all around the capitol. They secured their locations and posted lookouts. They each turned around and cut a hole into to the back seat and all saw a series of rods, warm to the touch, was arrayed with wires and electronic switches. Each of them heard their orders repeated to engage the device. They all found the USB ports and connected them to a WIFI router relay that could receive and send signals to all simultaneously.

The ten chosen infantrymen were sent the connection request that was accepted and instantly, each of the ten electronic detonators’ signals was locked onto the router that made them all act as one against a common target, the United States of America, all with a single press of a button. The infantrymen covered the back seats and waited. One of them was given an extra task to complete. He headed for the main entrance.

Chapter Nineteen
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 5:04 p.m.

Richard Leitner walked at a normal pace up the powerful steps and right up to the front door of Capitol Hill. He had a normal look across his bearded face. Earlier in the day, President Fisher Harrison had shaken Leitner’s frame of mind, and now Peter Barlowe and Warren Berkowitz had reshaped it. Leitner was placid, stoic and without fear as he walked up the steps to the front entrance.

The soldier who had been assigned to wait for Leitner walked over to him.

“Sir, this is for you.”

He handed Leitner a small box and the soldier returned back to his truck. Peter told all ten of them to verify the devices planted in their backseats. They were all online.

Leitner heard Warren Berkowitz’s voice speaking to him in his head. “You know, I was pissed off with you, but I thought, I’ve got the perfect way to redeem yourself. Richard, you are doing a great service to the next great global power, the United National Consortium. It is you who will launch the newest shot to be heard around the world.”

“Warren, I know what you’ve done to me, it is obvious. Damn you, I would have given my life for you.”

“So, what’s the problem? You’re about to do just that. Now, here’s what I want you to say.”

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 5:08 p.m.

Fisher paused and looked all around the room and took in air before he announced his next decision. “This is an extraordinary moment, and unfortunately, I must take extraordinary measures to combat the evil that is about to be unleashed upon the American people. I ask you to bear with me and consider my reasoning, and to give me your trust. The American People know who I am and that I will keep faith with you.”

US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 5:08 p.m.

Richard Leitner walked up to the security desk and swiped his badge. The light turned green.

“I want to say good evening, Mr. Secretary, but it don’t feel much like one.”

“Believe me, I know what you mean. It’s been maybe the hardest day of my life. Hope I live through it.” Leitner replied with a smile and leaned over the counter and pulled the guard toward him and spoke softly into the man’s ear. “You need to get all these people out of here.” The words came from Leitner’s lips, but the thoughts were Peter Barlowe’s.

“This place is going boom, and you need to get as far away as possible.” Peter looked into the guard’s face. “Do it now, you have not time to waste.” Leitner walked on through security calmly and steadily up to the House Chamber door and waited there. He slowly opened the box the soldier had handed him at the entrance. It was a remote with just one button.

Ft. Myer Military Personnel Division
Joint Base Myer-Henderson
Ft. Myer, Virginia
March 11, 2011 5:10 p.m.

“Open the door and walk into the chamber.” Peter told Leitner. When he walked in and looked at the crowd there. He realized that everyone knew who he was, and many knew him well. They were not all great men and women, but they did love the country, and many of them loved him, but they wouldn’t after today.

Peter attached a separate cable to the router and sent signals to three different embedded chips. They already had their orders; and were already in place and awaiting instructions; orders that Warren Berkowitz knew nothing about. Peter activated the links and repeated his instructions.

“Come out of hiding and activate plan seventy-seven, on my signal.” Peter saw three lights flash on the screen. He isolated them on the grid and washed them through the system and rendered them invisible to everyone, except for Peter Barlowe. The three immediately did as they were instructed. Berkowitz could hear none of it, but he’d know soon enough from the TV.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 5:12 p.m.

“Let me say that I never sought this position, but it sought me. It has followed me everywhere I’ve gone, no matter how much I tried to run from it. So, it is apparent that I am in the will of a good and righteous God. No president would ever choose to be in such a dire position so early in his term, but this is the task before us, and we will shrink from doing our duty. For, we demand to be free.”

Leitner began walking forward past the members of the Senators and of the House, all of whom knew who he was. They smiled as he walked forward and closer to the President of the United States. It seemed somehow normal, since Leitner was not a stranger at all, and had been Secretary of the Treasury for over two years, one of the most high profile jobs in Washington D.C. Even so, it seemed odd to see this man walking up the center isle towards the President, in the middle of such a powerful and important speech.
“Effective, midnight tonight, I am declaring Martial Law in all fifty …”

“Mr. President!” Richard Leitner powerfully yelled out.

The mere sound of a high-pitched voice sent Senators and Representatives diving to the floor for fear of being shot. The press went wobbly and ran and hid behind anything they could find, but their cameras continued rolling and they filmed an embattled new President of the Republic standing alone, seemingly undaunted by the face of Richard Lietner staring back at him.

The former Secretary of the Treasury felt a twinge of fear looking at the madman behind the presidential podium. Fisher Harrison stood there and sized up this man and knew this was Leitner plus something else.

He’s chipped. Fisher knew that Berkowitz was squeezing the last ounce of usefulness out of Leitner.

“Richard, are you alright?” Fisher asked seeing the remote in his right hand.

“Mr. President, your fired!”

Peter held Leitner’s finger off the button, and Berkowitz and Morgenthau went crazy.

“Peter, what are you doing? You better have this right, or you die before I do.”

“Not to worry Satan, hell is on its way.” Peter replied.

To the utter shock of every member of congress and the media, whose cameras captured it all, three Special Ops wearing Chameleon suits seemed to slide out of the walls and ran up to the president and surrounded him. the Secret service fired shots, but there was such a high degree of confusion, they didn’t know who to shoot at. The Chameleon suits made it seem that Fisher had been fighting with the air. Slight traces of the three figure could be seen, but the Secret Service was for all practical purposes, blind.

Fisher had not forgotten how to ride a bike and he still knew how to kick someone’s ass. He began fighting and the three knew that he’d never be taken alive that way. One of the Special Ops pulled out a gun and shot a dart into Fisher’s neck. Fisher pulled it out, looked at it and fell to the floor. They picked him up and carried him out of the chamber and quickly outside. They cuffed the president and carefully placed his drug-induced sleeping body in the back of the SUV and raced away.

One of the Special Ops spotted Chief of Staff Michelle Oh. He ran over to her and shot her with a dart also as she was running away from him. She fell to the ground and he scooped her up and ran. She too was placed in the SUV.


On the Runway, Brussels, Belgium
March 11, 2011 5:13 p.m.

“What the hell was that? I didn’t authorize saving the bastard. You’re supposed to kill him. You’re pissing me off too, Barlowe.”

“Warren, go to hell.” Peter calmly replied to Berkowitz. Then he typed in an encrypted message to Leitner.

“All Fall Down.”

Richard Leitner, who had awakened in the morning highly respected as the Secretary of the Treasury and was about to die in the same evening of the very same day, as a an enemy of the State and a total disgrace. He held his hands straight up in the air, as Berkowitz ordered him to do. A terrified Congress began rising up off the floor and looked at Leitner. He had been their friend; he had kept up with the Washington party circuit and many of them only now realized it was him. Almost every one stood up now and looked at Richard Leitner. He was not an unpopular guy, until today. Then he screamed.

“Goodbye, America!”

Lietner pressed the button on the remote, and the earth beneath everyone in the US Capitol began to belch and the air was wiped clean from the building as the ten different dirty bombs planted in the trucks surrounding the US Capitol all detonated at the same time. Each one was filled with highly enriched uranium nuclear waste. All ten trucks took on a momentary, very quick red glow, as the devices activated, sizzled and then instantly incinerated everything in its path. The walls of the Capitol were blown inward and the entire structure came down with a sound that sounded like hundreds of voices crying out in sheer and utter pain, which was exactly what it was. The dome collapsed straight downward crushing anyone who was in the rotunda.

Nearly everyone in the House of Representatives Chamber was dead. In one attack, more than half of the government was gone. The explosion tore the building apart. The history of the nation and every living and dead body in the old, sacred, now destroyed monument of freedom and power would devastate the nation to the point of collapse. Suddenly, the whole building began to shake and a deafening rumbling sound of steel bending and walls falling flowed through air as the US Capitol tumbled to the ground in a massive heaping pile of rubble.

The Secret Service who had survived were frantically looking for the president. “Is there anyone there, is there anyone there? Where the hell’s Law and Order?” The large room had gone pitch dark with the lights all blown out and the smoke and something else left the taste of metal in the mouth and it burned the eyes. “We can’t find POTUS.”

The dead were the lucky ones. Instead of dying an instant, painless death, in about thirty minutes, survivors would experience severe nausea. Slowly, but progressively, disorientation would invade their minds. Vertigo and a rapidly world room would make walking impossible. The pain would be unbearable and their bodies would shut down all their organs as the radiation invaded their minds and bodies. In less than an hour, they’d all die.

Survivors, inside and outside the ruins of the US Capitol opened their eyes and felt their hearts beating quickly. Their blood pressure then dropped rapidly and their breathing became labored. Their faces were drenched with sweat as a high fever set in; the results of the overwhelming affects of the massive dose of radiation from the ten devices now clinging to the air took its toll. Over half of congress lay dead on the House Chamber floor and lying in their vomit, and many would soon pray for death.

Outside the capitol, several thousands of US troops lay dead and thousands were on the ground surrounding Capitol Center writhing in pain. None of them would survive.

World Bank, Brussels, Belgium
March 11, 2011 5:15 p.m.

“Good, now that’s more like it. Hollywood still can’t top the real deal.” Berkowitz laughed and clapped his hands. He was jubilant with the success of the mission and ready to open up Pandora’s box.

“Peter, Peter are you there?” The radio echoed in the lower part of the operation’s building at Ft. Myers. No one was there and no one was coming back.

“What the hell, I’m, I mean we’re in charge now. I’ll do it myself.”

Berkowitz sent out a link to all forces under his control. Immediately tanks and armored vehicles began rolling into the streets of every major city in the country. Emergency bulletins began constantly repeating on every TV and radio in the country.

“A state of emergency has been declared. We are now under Martial Law protocols. You are not to leave your dwellings. Anyone found outside will be shot on sight. You are ordered not to leave your dwellings. A state of emergency has been declared. We are now under Martial Law protocols . Anyone found outside will be …”

Thousands of Americans ran out of their homes and poured into the streets. These were their kids carrying those guns and in those tanks. Aircraft flew low over the cities and Black hawks hovered over hot spots where large groups of angry Americans had gathered with large, small, legal and illegal guns and firing them into the air at the jets that were circling. Several Black hawks engaged fire on those armed below. Americans were dying by the hands of Americans. Those who refused to listen to the troops that Berkowitz had sent out were shot on sight and chaos filled the streets of America’s greatest cities.

“We have no enemy to find us now.” Berkowitz said over the radio.

Raven Rock Mountain Defense Base
March 11, 2011, 5:22 p.m.

“Did you get that location?” Raven Rock Site R Commander Rush asked nervously.

“Yes sir, it originated in Brussels.”

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The Green God of America:

When you enter a bank in the United States, have you noticed the quiet and serenity in the space? There seems to be a reverence rivaling that found in most churches. It is easy to see that such a display of piety in the unassuming financial institutions across America is because they are practicing the country’s fastest, biggest and most powerful religion, the worship of the Almighty Dollar. It can be truly stated that God is now green in America. I wrote Nimrod Rising because of this devotion to this pious paper and pristine plastic that has plunged this nation and the world into the abyss of despair for the lives of the unborn, the infirm and the aged.

The World of Nimrod Rising and Manassa Dormin:
Nimrod Rising transports the reader into a world of mayhem where unborn children do not contribute to a thriving economy, so their demise is of no avail. The world of Manassa Dormin, the villain in Nimrod Rising is one without mercy. Those of us who cannot work, cannot walk, cannot feed ourselves are unproductive citizens, and are discarded as so-much rubbish if they cannot demonstrate some utility to the masses. “Should they not just get out of the way and die so there is a bigger piece of the pie for everyone else?”

Utility or Futility:
Does this sound like lunacy? Quite possibly, such words are reminiscent of a page or two out of Orwell’s 1984 or Huxley’s Brave New World? In reality, these unspeakable new age “Values” are found throughout the pages of yesterday’s and today’s newspapers, all throughout the country! Fitting examples are inexhaustible all around us. Perverted pedophiles are abducting and raping our children at an all-time alarming rate and they receive sentences that allow them to return back on the streets in incredibly short amounts of time only to again steal our children out of their beds and finally kill them.

Yet, if you are the chairman of Enron or WorldCom and you can expect anything between 25 to 200 years. That should not be seen as shocking. After all, the offering up of our unborn and growing children, our disabled and bedridden citizens and the early demise of our elderly pales in comparison to any premeditated sacrilege against the Green God of America. So, Nimrod Rising is a scary read. This is not because of the spirit world it describes or the evil men and women doing their mischief, but rather because the seeds of many of the diabolical deeds detailed in Nimrod Rising are only germinating today in society around us.

Quality of Life vs. Quantity of life:
Is all life worth living? Do the old, unborn, the infirmed or mentally ill have no social value? The proposed and not so secret response from the brokers of the culture of death is a resounding, “NO!” In fact, it is easy to see that the whole catalyst of the death culture is centered around one overriding maxim purporting that population reduction must be accomplished without delay and by any means.

Such culture transforming issues as abortion and such organizations as Planned Parenthood have led the way in what is considered to have changed the thinking of Main Street America in what now seems a permanently calloused culture and is considered as groundbreaking and deepening into a six-foot social grave. The money and power such groups wield are also powerful points of persuasion for the mostly lukewarm and milquetoast “leaders” who now control the present and plan our futures. Though abortion is by far the most widely debated issue facing traditionally valued Americans, there are many movements afoot that are not even so quietly laying their framework of treachery and social engineering that also use the premise of population control as their dictum.

The Government of The Culture of Death:
One of the big themes throughout Nimrod Rising is how the government of the world of Manassa Dormin is the power of the Euthanasia movement. Again, the forces of the culture of death are even now gaining great expanses of their foundation for their social house of cards, in the fertile mental ground in the American psyche.

Due to the message purported by a very loud minority to a passive majority that life is based on quality rather than quantity, the old, infirm and mentally impaired and their “safe” are even now being told to accept a “dignified” and “self-determined” death, which is considered one of the biggest pieces of the diabolical picture that is even now being sketched by the workers of woe within the Culture of Death. Matters such as the homosexual movement, assisted suicide, animal rights vs. human Rights, the environments movement and the dangers of socialized medicine in America and the financial constraints of such a program will place on the keepers of the very life you cherish the responsibility of isolating and identifying such drains upon the social banks of goodwill, within the society at large. These things speak loudly within the 596 pages of Nimrod Rising. Yet, it still remains that even the most docile and sanitized amongst us still require ears that hear and eyes that see.

Fact or Fiction:
Perhaps, you will say that such men and women described in Nimrod Rising do not exist. Then, take a look at many of the current leaders of the culture of death in America today. Though I am absolutely for planning a family and for the use of contraception, I would never support the use of abortion as a means of reducing the world's births. Margaret Sangor, the Founder of Planned Parenthood said herself, and I quote, "The most merciful thing a family does for one of its infant children is to kill it." She propagated wiping out the African American race and was a huge supporter of Hitler's views. Yet, today, her organization, with these goals, is supported even with federal dollars. George Felos, the attorney who assured the death by starvation and dehydration of Terri Shaivo in 2005, is the leading lawyer for encouraging assisted suicide and euthanasia of the infirm, the elderly on the basis of some vague standard of the quality of life.

Based on such a standard, would it not be logical to simply walk down the streets of our cities and rid the poor homeless of their lives devoid of quality? This is where such views eventually lead; to a place where no one has the right of self-determined longevity unless they possess some utility other than life itself? One need only use their mind to go beyond what your teachers taught you and let humanity speak to us and follow the statements to their logical end result. Nimrod Rising does just that and creates the unspeakable world that such current-day values will ultimately produce.

Perhaps, there are those who feel these words are far fetched, but I have been around the world in 34 countries and I can say of a truth that the family and life itself is at risk by those who no longer hold anything sacred or of lasting value. The story you are about to invest your time in shall speak its mind and challenge you in many different ways concerning the dangers facing us. We fight to preserve a nation from terrorism, but if this is what we are fighting to preserve, would you lift a finger in the defense of an obtuse and reprobate society as that which I have just described? Nimrod Rising goes a step beyond most books that seek to warn a society of its plunge into an abyss of despair and ruin. Nimrod Rising seeks to reveal that the true catalyst for the ideas espoused and widely accepted today. This world, hidden from human sight but as real as the hidden cells that give life to our bodies, extends beyond our own sphere. It wishes to pull down the kingdom of man to reestablish their rule of the Watchers on the Earth.

A Society Without Faith:
This is the world of Nimrod Rising. It is written as fiction and is based on reality. Therefore, I wish to dedicate this book to all the Theresa Shiavos of America whose unfortunate lives have run headlong into the merciless, unrelenting will of the false god in whom increasing numbers of common people have placed their trust, in this country today. This is not a book written against the liberals of this country. Nor is it a vindication of the political right. In fact, it is an indictment of both sides of the massive green beast that runs roughshod over friend and foe alike.
The real purpose of this book is to reveal the true nature of the culture of death that has come to pervade over every major decision we face. It has been penned to warn a great nation that a land is nothing without the care and mercy shown to its less fortunate. It is submitted to you to underscore that the measure of a great nation is not in its GNP or its S&P but in its TLC. On the contrary, the words written here have been tempered with fear and trembling for the nation I love. The indisputable facts laid out herein are written in shameful disgust over the failure of the moral base of America to adequately speak out and stand up to be counted. No great nation can long endure under the strains of the obtuse who seek to systematically destroy those whom our nation had so long defended, in a word you and me.

Learn From History or Repeat:
America threw its youngest and brightest into WWII to fight an intolerable tyrant and the idea that only the State could decide who was worthy of life. We fought and died to bring Adolph Hitler and his regime to an utter end because of his disrespect and utter disregard for life. Now, today, in America, we have Judges seated in a leather chair behind some large desk not making choices to help someone live but rather deciding who should die. America stood tall and brave against the forces of Communism because of just such an evil philosophy as this, which religiously and progressively marched its people to a dreaded drum right to the very precipice of death and defeat; a defeat brought about by our commitment to freedom and life.
Ride The Storm Of Nimrod Rising:
Yet, today in America, are we really better than those we destroyed? Are we really different? Perhaps the Nazi movement and the Communist ideals are not so much dead as they are renamed Republican or Democrat and recast in more benign and more beguilingly subtle silhouettes; wrapped up in a tattered swath of red white and blue and empowered by a document that no more represents nor resembles the original constitution of the United States of America than did the Communist Manifesto or Mao’s Little Red Book! The diabolical forces at work in Nimrod Rising are the seeds of destruction in America today and must be rendered powerless.

How Shall We Then Live:
We cannot stop them from speaking out, lest we defeat the very freedom we seek to preserve. Yet, we must always be vigilant and ready to work against them by recognizing the forces at work, and the masters they serve, which make up America’s emerging culture of death, lest none of us have any quality of life. It is imperative that we take another look and reaffirm the words of Philosopher, Francis Schaeffer when he said that there is no life that is not worth living. If we believe that, then we should pose ourselves the same question he asked, “How shall we then live?” Come and ride the storm of Nimrod Rising. It might scare you to life!

This outstanding research article is one of the most illuminating pieces of political information I have ever read. It tells us about the hidden, subtle yet aggressive power brokers who have locked up society through political intrigue and fraud. I think you’ll find it very scary indeed simply because it is true.

Our nation, these United States were born from defiance of the thievery of bankers- it is both our heritage and obligation. We’ve grown up with many of the inherent rights American Patriots fought for and won more than two hundred years ago; we Americans have an obligation to stand against the current fruition of three hundred years of a banking conspiracy. If we do not stand against this plot, there will be nothing left for our future generations. This plot is real - can you disbelieve those original American Patriots who guaranteed your freedoms in the Constitution?
Every dollar printed by a bank requires a payment of interest in return. Before the Federal Reserve printed the money, private banks were given charters to print the money - these private banks have always been paid interest. The only two Presidents in the history of this nation who printed U.S. Notes, a debt free currency outlined in the U.S. Constitution (Article 1, Section 8, Clause 5,) are Abraham Lincoln and John F. Kennedy. Kennedy printed U.S. Notes for the purpose of paying off the Federal debt… a feat only accomplished by Andrew Jackson. J.F.K planned to abolish the Federal Income Tax, which merely goes to pay interest to the Federal Reserve, rendering the IRS irrelevant. The IRS is merely a collection agency operating out of Puerto Rico, which was created by the Federal Alcohol Administration, which in turn was absolved shortly after the revocation of Prohibition. Furthermore, the Federal Reserve's top seven majority owners are all families of Europe! In the words of fellow writer Christopher Mark, “The Federal Reserve is about as federal as Federal Express.” It’s a huge extortion scam!
In order to pay for the Civil War, President Abraham Lincoln issued a debt-free U.S. Note nicknamed a ‘greenback.’ This prevented the banking institutions from reaping the huge benefits of wartime borrowing- the major lever of accumulating banker’s wealth for nearly three hundred years. President Lincoln was quoted as stating, “The money powers prey upon the nation in times of peace and conspire against it in times of adversity. It is more despotic than a monarchy, more insolent than autocracy, and more selfish than burocracy. It denounces as public enemies all who question its methods or throw light upon its crimes. I have two great enemies, the Southern Army in front of me and the bankers in the rear. Of the two, the one at my rear is my greatest foe.” Lincoln was, of course, assassinated, as John F. Kennedy would be; is it mere coincidence that both of them printed a debt-free form of currency? Lincoln made a startling prediction, “Corporations have been enthroned and an era of corruption in high places will follow, and the money powers of the country will endeavor to prolong its reign by working upon the prejudices of the people until the wealth is aggregated in the hands of a few, and the Republic destroyed.”
Another adversary of the bankers, President Garfield explained, “Whoever controls the volume of money in any country is absolute master of all industry and commerce.” It seems a man possessing this knowledge would have tried to remove the bank’s power and give it back to our nation. It also seems likely this is why President Garfield was shot dead.

Andrew Jackson, upon entry into the Oval Office, called a delegation of bankers into the White House and told them, “You are a den of vipers and thieves! I intend to rout you out, and by the grace of the Eternal God, will rout you out!” This was not a man to sidestep issues - Andrew Jackson was a rambunctious man who took problems head-on. What’s more: he solved them! This was the only President in U.S. history to ever reduce the Federal debt to zero. He may not have been exaggerating when he said, “The bank is trying to kill me! But I will kill it!” After he dissolved the Second National Bank of America (back then banks were granted twenty year charters to print money) there was an attempt on his life. The would-be assassin pointed his pistol at President Jackson and pulled the trigger- the gun jammed. An enraged sixty-seven-year-old President attacked him with his cane as the gunman pulled a second pistol out and pulled the trigger- again, this gun jammed! It seems ‘the grace of the Eternal God’ was with President Jackson!
The international bankers have been combating Americans since before the Revolutionary War. Benjamin Franklin explains, “The Colonies would gladly have borne the little tax on tea and other matters had it not been for the poverty created by the bad influence of the English Bankers on the Parliament, which has caused the Colonies hatred of England and the Revolutionary War… the inability of the Colonists to get the power to issue their own money, permanently out of the hands of King George III and the international bankers, was the prime reason for the Revolutionary War.” Once the Colonial Scrip was outlawed, the bankers didn’t keep enough money in circulation; this caused widespread indigence throughout the Colonies.
Thomas Jefferson knew of the great evils done by these bankers: “I believe that banking institutions are more dangerous to our liberties than standing armies. Already they have raised up a moneyed aristocracy that has set the government in defiance. The issuing power should be taken from the banks, and restored to the people, to whom it properly belongs.” Jefferson also made predictions as to the goals of the international bankers; their goal has always been to dominate all governments, and he knew this nation would be under constant attack from their subversive tactics. Thomas Jefferson foresaw, “This is the tendency of all human governments: A departure from the principle becomes a precedent for a second (principle); that second for a third (principle); and so on, till the bulk of society is reduced to mere automatons of misery, to have no sensibilities left but for sinning and suffering…” That about sums up our decadent society! “And the fore horse of this frightful team is public debt. Taxation follows that, and in its train wretchedness and oppression.” Who else could have a stranglehold on our Federal Government other than these international bankers? If their power were ever taken away from them, there would have been a great war against them… how else could their power have been reduced? Of course we know, the power of the international bankers has grown exponentially over time- and so we’re alive now at the pinnacle of their achievements… and height of our danger. President Jefferson predicted, “If the American People ever allow private banks to control the issue of their money, first by inflation and then by deflation, the banks and corporations that will grow up around (the banks), will deprive the people of their property until their children will wake up homeless on the continent their fathers conquered.” Well, a private bank has controlled the issue of our currency for nearly a century, and we’re nearing the globalist/international bankers crowning achievement. What can result other than their total control over all property and money? We are truly in dire straights.
Through groups such as the Bilderbergs, the Counsel on Foreign Relations, and David Rockefeller’s Trilateral Commission, the wealthiest men of the earth have joined together to command every aspect of our lives. Through their control of education and mass media, they’ve promoted decadence of all sorts. In my school they taught us the theory of evolution during fifth grade; they were mandated federally to teach eleven year olds that they came from monkeys! The fact is, a system of self-governance is only operable when people follow a code of ethics- erode the conscience of our nation, and it will implode. This is the reason Christianity has given way to false churches which claim to be Christian; this is the reason MTV constantly shows men kissing; it’s also the reason the media shows men to be concerned exclusively with fornication, and the reason women are mostly shown cheating on their mates. All of this contributes to the decay of the family- leaving sole loyalty to a corrupt system of government. Author of Common Sense, Thomas Paine noticed, “A long habit of not thinking a thing wrong, gives it a superficial appearance of being right.” Add to the equation a sixty-hour workweek and the people are enslaved without the sloppiness of physical shackles. Thomas Jefferson said it well: “Our liberty cannot be guarded but by the freedom of the press, nor that be limited without danger of losing it.” The solution for the bankers to overcome freedom of the press: consolidate until we can count the media corporations on one hand.
The idea that we are so civilized is absurd! As a world, we’ve descended to a level of decadence likely thought impossible in past centuries! It seems ironic to me that as technology increases, society has suffered a meltdown. “Enlighten the people generally, and tyranny and oppressions of body and mind will vanish like evil spirits at the dawn of day,” again, Jefferson. We have made great strides to this end- our numbers continue to grow- the world has reached a state so destitute that people are taking initiative to discover the truth. Citizens have grown tired of the ‘news’ and are turning to alternative media. A full page add ran in the Washington Post for Fromthewilderness.com, which mentioned a dozen other news sites. It’s the old analogy of a hand around one’s neck- as the grip tightens, a reaction is imminent. As Alex Jones says, “We’re on the march, the Empire is on the run!” To those who will not stand up for future generations of Americans, Samuel Adams spoke thus, “If ye love wealth greater than liberty, the tranquility of servitude greater than the animating contest for freedom, go home from us in peace. We seek not your counsel nor your arms. Crouch down and lick the hand that feeds you; May your chains set lightly upon you, and may posterity forget that ye were our countrymen.”
John Dickinson realized, “We have counted the costs of this contest, and find nothing so dreadful as voluntary slavery. Honor, justice, and humanity forbid us tamely to surrender that freedom which we received from our gallant ancestors, and which our innocent posterity have a right to receive from us.” The Founding Fathers advise us to fight! They advise us to stand up against tyranny- of course, after all peaceful routes have been exercised. Though, if the spirit of these valiant men had always been present in this nation, we wouldn’t be facing this current predicament… they would have never let things get this bad!
I will not be a slave! I will not see the new generation of my family be as slaves! The only way to prevent this slavery is to defeat these international bankers who’ve nurtured themselves as parasites on Americans and the world for hundreds of years. They are but a few dozen men tormenting the earth, and all the technology in the world cannot defeat us if the men who’ve sold their souls would just steal them back by standing up for what’s right. There may not be a better creed than Jefferson’s, “I swear upon the altar of God, eternal hostility to every form of tyranny over the mind of man.” The reality of the situation is also best summed up by him, “The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time, with the blood of patriots and tyrants.” It’s a shame that sick and corrupted men have brought this upon the people of the world, and we can only hope a solution will arise before all peaceful attempts have been exhausted.
Americans, people of faith and conscience, and U.S. soldiers- we must stand up to these globalists before it’s too late. They believe the earth is their possession! We must prove them wrong! In the immortal words of George Washington, “Let us therefore animate and encourage each other, and show the world that a free man, contending for his liberty on his own ground, is superior to any slavish mercenary on earth.”

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What would you feel if America fell and the nation was taken over by a dictatorial power? Would you adapt? Or, would you lay down body and soul to protect your homeland? Read Chapter two of Steven Clark Bradley's newest work in progress, Automated Response and feel what could happen unless we are vigilant and devoted to the United states of America.

Automated Response

Patriot Acts Part 3

A New Line Emerges

Chapter 2

Edgecombe County, North Carolina

September, 1969, 1:52 p.m.

“Just deal with it.” was the last thing Peter Barlowe’s father had told him, before he died.

Peter had walked into his home in Edgecombe County, North Carolina just as he had as far back as he could remember. There, to the right, he saw his father, Marshall sitting on the edge of the couch with his face buried in his palms, shaking and weeping a torrent of tears.

“Dad, where’s mom?”

Peter Barlowe looked at the various things that were scattered around his father, on the couch and the floor. He saw pictures of his childhood, his mom Betty and his dad’s great-great grandmother Winnifred Atkinson Barlowe’s portrait, who had lived in Edgecombe Co. The floor was littered with old folders everywhere; all of them opened with their contents spilling out.

What’s he looking for? Peter wondered. “Dad, where’s mom? You’re starting to scare me.”

Marshall Barlowe looked up at his son with a face that screamed out disaster and guilt.

“Mother, you want your mother? Well, boy, you ain’t got no mother. Not no more.”

Young Peter Barlowe took in the words from his father. The pitch, the expression across his father’s face and grave sound of his father’s voice, and most devastatingly terrible thing of all was the words themselves. It all told this young twelve year old boy that his life had been drastically altered and was in permanent disrepair.

Marshall Barlow sat on the edge of the couch with his eyes weeping into his palms. He raised his head and gazed at the son he had always loved; an affection he had rarely attempted to display.

The expression he saw on his son’s face made him hurt so badly that he had to hold the gun in his left hand down with his right lest he raise the barrel to his head and pull the trigger earlier than he figured he’d be forced to.

“Peter, I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t; I swear I did. Everything about that damn place is automated, and it’s only the beginning. Don’t try to run, cause they’ll kill you.”

Peter looked over at his father and took in the words that even he, at his young age, realized would be the last ones his father would ever say to him.

“Son, I love you, I always have. But, you cannot give up what’s ours and what was started by our kin, our blood.”

Peter walked slowly closer to his father and saw the gun in his hand.

“Dad, what’s wrong? I know about the lost colony and the stupid shooting over a stolen cup that was to have killed off all of them, and I know about the SPU. I’m not afraid; tell me what I have to do.” Tears rolled down the boy’s face and he felt as if his knees wobbling under him. He took a deep breath and steadied himself.

Marshall looked at his son, Peter with serious etched all over his face.

“My boy, Michael O’Rourke has taken the line; he stole it from Eldridge Harrison.”

Marshall saw the confounded stare in his son’s eyes.

“Peter, I know, you’re young, way too young to endure what has happen here today. I …”

“What has happened? Where is my mom?” Peter demanded.

“Son, listen to me, you can’t run! If you run, they’ll kill you, and I can’t stop it now. Once a thing like this gets rolling, there’s no stopping it. This will never be far from you, Peter. Once they take you …”

“Take me, take me where?”

“You have to grow up fast and stop the system. The new line will build it, and they’ll use it too.”

“Dad, I don’t understand anything you’re talking about.”

“That’s not important. They’re going to take you, son and when they do, you’ll be chipped. No one knows the things we’ve done. No one even comprehends how many masters we’ve served; all the while exacting all the power, funding, technology and information they took as their booty. Every president since Wilson’s been our puppet, and that was all under a civil leadership. When this crowd gets their claws on the codes we have from every nation that’s anything, no one will ever be able to stop the SPU.”

Peter mouthed the letters S.P.U. “You’ll forget these things after they block out this day, and God knows how many others from your memory. But, my only hope is that if you hear the words, ‘automated response’ they will force this day back into your mind. That’s the best I can do, son.” Marshall Barlowe stared back at his son and rose from the couch.

“Peter, listen carefully, they’ve built a system that will take down the whole thing down. Just deal with it …”

Young Peter Barlowe turned his head toward the shattering sound of breaking glass and then saw a hole appear in the center of his father’s forehead. Blood shot out of his dad’s head and splashed over Peter’s face. Peter dived to the floor and heard the back door fly open and slam loudly against the wall. He lay silently and exposed on the living room floor and saw four sets of feet enter the room. He saw them walking over to him and then they grabbed him and lifted him up.

“Peter, we got here as soon as we could. You’re dad’s had a nervous breakdown, I’m afraid.”

“Mr. O’Rourke, you just killed my dad. He told me everything. I will not go with you. Did you kill my mom too, you lying bastard?”

“Listen, calm down. I didn’t kill anyone. Your father was about to kill you too. Come on now, you’re delirious, and I’ve got just the thing to help you forget all about this.”

Michael O’Rourke walked over to Peter and put his arm around his shoulder. Peter pulled away from him and punched the much larger man in the ribs. O’Rourke felt it, too.

“I don’t know what to believe.” Peter said in a child’s manner that seemed to pretend it all away.

“Of course you don’t, Pete. That’s actually good, in a strange sort of way. In fact, I fully intend to tell you what to believe, my boy.” O’Rourke looked at his men.

“Get him outta here. And, one of you get back in here and clean up this mess.”

Michael O’Rourke, the new chief of the Strategic Perception Unit could not believe it had come off so flawlessly.

“Finally, it’s all mine. Now, I’m the real most powerful man in the world.”

Three large men picked up Peter Barlowe and cuffed him and led him outside. As they walked him out the back door that had been kicked off its hinges, Peter saw the lifeless body of his mother sprawled across the blood-splattered table, with a large knife protruding out of her chest.

“You killed my mom! You bastards killed my mom!” Peter screamed and fought to get away from his captures.

Two of the men carried twelve-year-old Peter Barlow out of the house and to a black car with US Government plates. They jostled him into the car and he looked to his left at another young unconscious body next to him, in the back seat.

“Fish, Fisher is that you?”

“Oh, don’t worry about him; he’s OK. As a matter of fact, why don’t you join him?

The SPU operative placed a mask over his own face and closed the backseat divider and pressed a button his on his dash board that sprayed half the normal dose of gas that he’s have administered to an adult. The young boy pounded on the divider but soon, he felt his strength give way to a sleepy, foggy haze and everything went dark.

Falls Church, Virginia inside SPU Center

March 7, 2011

“I remember.” Peter said quietly, but more loudly than he had intended as the darkness of 1969 fade and his eyes gazed into the darkness of 2011. He fine-tuned his ears to the sounds of soldiers as they walked down the huge Falls Church facility corridors.

“It’s an automated response.” Memories started flashing and streaming through his mind and he saw what this horrible system would do.

“Peter, listen carefully, they’ve build a system that will take down the whole …” his father had said. “Just before they blew him away.” Peter whispered. “…if they take us down, everything goes with us.” He had heard so often since he had become part of the SPU. The memory shot through his mind and he grasped the sides of his head. “We’ve chipped every soldier, Marine, Seaman and Airman since 1988, and Reagan, Clinton nor Bush knew a thing about it. Even Tate didn’t get that information.” He groaned in mental agony.

“Your dad killed himself!”

“No, you killed him.” Peter Barlowe, heard his mind silently cry out.

“Your father killed your mother; stabbed her in the heart.”

“You lie.” He screamed out loudly and looked down at his watch. “Only two minutes.” He told himself. “I have to stop it.” He heard the sound of heavy footsteps voices approaching his location. He stopped breathing and listened carefully.

“This O’Rourke guy is dead.” One soldier said to the other. “Yea, Harrison’s not gonna take any shit!”

“Jaime’s dead? That leaves only me to take all the heat.” Barlowe realized.

He positioned himself with his back to the wall of the cleaning room and switched his flashlight on. Peter looked down at the chameleon suit he had put on. He pulled the mask over his face and pressed a button on the inside of his jacket. The suit came to life and he took on the colors and blended into the room, but the suit’s one flaw was the initialization process that produced a whining sound that the SPU techs had not managed to rectify, and which the soldiers policing the corridor could hear.

“Did you hear that?” One soldier said to the other. Barlowe heard the soldiers walking toward the door.

“I have to get to the chamber and reset it the failsafe.” His watch told him he had forty-eight seconds.

He heard the footprints coming his way and saw light break through the darkness as the cleaning room door slowly opened. He pulled his legs back prepared himself.

Two US Army soldiers aimed their weapons into the room and looked inside. They saw nothing and walked into the room. When they came close enough to trip over Peter, he drove the force of both his adrenalin-laced legs into the chest of one of the soldiers. Peter leapt to his feet and rapidly raced down the corridor, firing as he ran as fast as his legs would take him.

The Army advance soldier was one of a team of ten sent in to conduct code enforcement and to shoot anyone on sight who threatened US Forces in any way. The soldier ran into the corridor and saw him. The one soldier still left breathing ran after him and radioed his commander.

“I got him, Peter Barlowe …”

“One second…”

“One second, I ain’t got one …”

“Who are you, what company?”

“Taggart, sir, Advanced Infantry Clearance.”

“Give it to me, soldier.”

“I got Barlowe. You know, like the number two … sir.”

“You’ve got a shoot to kill on that dirt bag, Taggart. You Copy?”

“You better believe it … sir. Target is racing around into the left corridor.”

“Secretary Blake wants Barlowe dead. Do you copy that?”

“That’s affirmative and happy to oblige; engaging now.”

Taggart crouched forward and advanced with his weapon held tightly and impatiently ready. When Taggart turned the corner, Barlowe sprayed bullets in every direction. Taggart took cover and returned fire, even though he couldn’t see anything except the holes that Barlowe was inflicting upon the facility walls.

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JAIL FOR NO INSURANCE UNDER PELOSI BILL

The nonpartisan Joint Committee on Taxation reported that the House version of the healthcare bill specifies that those who don't buy health insurance and do not pay the fine of about 2.5 percent of their income for failing to do so can face a penalty of up to five years in prison!

The bill describes the penalties as follows:

* Section 7203 — Misdemeanor willful failure to pay is punishable by a fine of up to $25,000 and/or imprisonment of up to one year.

* Section 7201 — Felony willful evasion is punishable by a fine of up to $250,000 and/or imprisonment of up to five years." [page 3]

That anyone should face prison for not buying health insurance is simply incredible.

And how much will the stay-out-of-jail insurance cost? The joint committee noted that "according to a recent analysis by the Congressional Budget Office, the lowest-cost family non-group plan under HR 3962 (the Pelosi bill) would cost $15,000 by 2016."

Obama's bill provides only subsidies to help pay this enormous sum after families making about $45,000 have paid 8 percent of their income for insurance and after those earning a household income of about $65,000 have kicked in 12 percent.

The Joint Committee on Taxation noted that, although the Senate Finance Committee version of the bill did not include criminal penalties, "The House Democrats' bill, however, contains no similar language protecting American citizens from civil and criminal tax penalties that could include a $250,000 fine and five years in jail."

Remember that simply buying catastrophic insurance, which may be all the young uninsured family needs, does not constitute having adequate insurance under the Obama bill. It has to be total, all inclusive insurance for one to avoid the penalties in the legislation. That is because Obama wants to use these premiums from the currently uninsured to subsidize his program.

So Pelosi is requiring Americans to pay these steep premiums, or a fine of 2.5 percent of their income for not doing so, or, potentially, go to prison!

Anyone who is familiar with the U.S. prison system can attest to the large number of people incarcerated for similar white collar offenses. That the House bill would treat failure to carry health insurance or pay the fine as tax evasion or willful nonpayment is amazing!

And where is the constitutional basis for requiring everyone to buy insurance? It is OK for a state to make drivers pay for automobile insurance. Driving is not a right, it is a privilege, and the state may regulate it by demanding insurance. Banks can require homeowners to buy insurance as a condition of their lending. But how does the federal government get the right to require a family to buy health insurance or face a civil penalty and, failing that, to face either a criminal fine or jail?

The tough penalties in the House bill are designed to keep insurance companies from opposing the bill. It was the relaxation of these penalties in the Senate Finance Committee version of the legislation that led the companies to reverse field and come out in opposition to the legislation. The insurance companies want to see their coffers swell when tens of millions of new customers are required to buy insurance. The more draconian the penalties for failing to pay them large sums of money to pad their bottom lines, the better.

The more you read this bill, the worse it gets.

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HUMAN EVENTS
Click Here To Go To HUMAN EVENTS

Point Of No Return!

Just before the 2008 elections, the conservative economist and commentator Thomas Sowell warned that a Barack Obama presidency would prove a "point of no return" for America.



Why? Because once in power, Dr. Sowell explained, President Obama and the Democratic majorities in Congress would effect such radical changes in our nation's economy, legal structure and social fabric that there would be no rolling them back.



Today, we stand on the brink of Dr. Sowell's prediction coming true.


Consider the following...
WE ARE ON THE BRINK of a government takeover of the health care industry that will empower federal bureaucrats to make life-and-death decisions about your medical care -- a system certain to favor the politically well-connected over ordinary citizens, as it does in Canada -- and that will put all your private medical records in a government database (don't worry, they promise never to use them against you)



WE ARE ON THE BRINK because we have confirmed a Supreme Court nominee who believes that her own ethnic prejudices as a "wise Latina woman" are more important in deciding cases than our laws or Constitution -- a woman who has ruled that discrimination is just fine when practiced against white males





WE ARE ON THE BRINK of enacting "cap-and-trade" legislation that will cripple American competitiveness in the global economy, double home utility bills, add thousands to the cost of new cars, and cost U.S. workers an estimated 2.5 million jobs per year -- while doing next to nothing to impact a "global warming" problem that is largely fictitious to begin with


WE ARE ON THE BRINK of becoming a nation where a majority of citizens receive lavish government handouts and benefits but pay no federal income taxes -- while continuing to vote themselves still more benefits from the shrinking minority who do pay taxes (at ever more "progressive" rates)



We are on the brink, in short, of a revolutionary transformation of our system of government and our way of life -- one that will turn us into a European-style social-welfare state where only politicians, government bureaucrats, and their favored interests are able to thrive -- and where the only "liberty" that remains is the government's unlimited freedom to control every aspect of your life.


I ask you now, my friend: Would you want to live in such an America? Would you want to bequeath such an America to your children and grandchildren?

Neither would I. But guess what? We don't have to. Because believe me when I say...

But we'll have to fight. And we'll have to pull together -- as conservatives, as patriots -- as never before.





Because make no mistake: Our would-be masters in Washington will stop at nothing to secure the power they've come to think of as theirs by divine anointing.





Already, they are using the full force of federal power to crush whatever opposition stands in their way. For instance:

• They fired AmeriCorps inspector general Gerald Walpin for blowing the whistle on the misuse of AmeriCorps funds by Kevin Johnson, the former NBA star who is now mayor of Sacramento, California and a prominent supporter of President Obama.

• They silenced the author of an Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) report that was skeptical of claims about global warming, including whether carbon dioxide must be strictly regulated by the federal government, on the eve of a vote on "cap and trade" legislation

• They abruptly "retired" longtime Amtrak Inspector General Fred Weiderhold just after he met with officials of the government-subsidized rail service to discuss evidence of its meddling in financial audits and probes.




And there is worse to come as they prepare to silence conservative talk-radio by reviving the Fairness Doctrine... and to enact "card check" laws that would expose anti-union workers to intimidation and harassment... and to pass the so-called Freedom of Choice Act to force pro-life medical professionals to refer patients for abortions.

And who will stop them? The "watchdogs" of the mainstream media? The ACLU? Don't make me laugh.

But all is not lost -- far from it. For as bleak as things may seem right now, freedom of speech and of conscience is not dead in America. It's just gone underground...





... to The Conservative Underground -- where people like you and me are free to think, say, and believe whatever we wish, no matter what the forces of political correctness may have to say about it.





Here in The Conservative Underground, you're free to speak your mind even if...

• ... you don't believe that Barack Obama is the Second Coming of J.C. (unless that J.C. is Jimmy Carter)
• ... you don't believe that man-made "global warming" is a proven fact -- much less an excuse for destroying the U.S. economy -- just because Al Gore says so, especially when hundreds of respected scientists publicly disagree with him

• ... you don't believe that the way back to prosperity in America lies in soaring tax rates and massive new spending programs that will add trillions to the federal deficit and eventually lead to runaway inflation

• ... you don't believe that power in America should be transferred from our duly elected representatives to a small army of unelected "czars" (over twenty, at last count) appointed by President Obama

• ... you don't believe that the U.S. Constitution is a "living document" that means whatever any Supreme Court majority declares it to mean
• ... you do believe in all the old-fashioned virtues and principles -- such as faith, family, freedom, and self-reliance -- that made America great, and can help restore that greatness once again.


If those are the things you value most -- and that you think are still worth fighting for, no matter how bleak things may seem at the moment -- then let me be first to say...






Welcome to the Conservative Underground

CLICK HERE TO ENTER - Human Events' Conservative Underground...

Patriot Acts by Steven Clark Bradley

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The 'GIVE' Act (Generations Invigorating Volunteerism and Education) Calls for Your Kids to be 'Owned' by the State.

Here is what President Barack Obama said when he was Candidate Barack Obama: “We cannot continue to rely on our military in order to achieve the national security objectives we've set. We've got to have a civilian national security force that's just as powerful, just as strong, just as well-funded."


Here is what he has planned and brought about since being elected: The House bill, H.R. 1388 is called the GIVE (Generations Invigorating Volunteerism and Education) Act. Patriotic Americans have been wondering how and when Obama would enforce a "National Civilian Security Force.” We are now seeing a framework emerge that paints a totalitarian portrait of this socialist president’s agenda to create his own defense force that will enslave our children and young adults into a civilian “forced-volunteer” armed defense group. The following information is before you in black and white.

The GIVE Act of '09 is available as a pdf file. The following text was found on pg. 76 of the 303 page .pdf: [Emphasis added.] SEC. 6103. ESTABLISHMENT.

There is already an established legislative branch a commission known as the ‘‘Congressional Commission on Civic Service’’ (in this title referred to as the ‘‘Commission’’). SEC. 6104. DUTIES. (b) SPECIFIC TOPICS.—In carrying out its general purpose under subsection (a), the Commission shall address and analyze the following specific topics:

(5) The effect on the Nation, on those who serve, and on the families of those who serve, if all individuals in the United States were expected to perform nationalservice or were required to perform a certain amount of national service.
...
(6) Whether a workable, fair, and reasonable mandatory service requirement for all able young people could be developed, and how such a requirement could be implemented in a manner that would strengthen the social fabric of the Nation and overcome civic challenges by bringing together people from diverse economic, ethnic, and educational backgrounds




There is nothing - NOTHING - in the Constitution of the United States that warrants, mandates or permits this, but that has never stopped this President or this congress from doing what is specifically prohibited in the constitution before, and the Republicans are right in the thick of it with the Democrats.





The media is giving Obama a free pass? The U.S. House of Representatives has approved a plan to set up a new “volunteer corps” (‘Forced Volunteerism – The world’s most obvious oxymoronic term) and they are consider whether “a workable, fair, and reasonable mandatory service requirement for all able young people” should be developed. What the White House and the Congress are actually doing is trying to find the right terminology to bring this charade about that can pass constitutional muster in the Supreme Court.






The legislation also refers to "uniforms” that would be worn by Obama’s conscripted “volunteers” and the “need” for a “Public Service Academy”, which will be a 4-year institution” to “focus on training” future “public sector leaders,” and the training will apparently occur on “campuses” Instead of camps.

The vote on H.R. 1388 reauthorized, through 2014, the National and Community Service Act of 1990 and the Domestic Volunteer Service Act of 1973. These were acts that originally funded the AmeriCorps and the National Senior Service Corps. It also reauthorizes the programs, but also includes “new programs and studies” and is expected to be funded with an allocation of $6 billion over the next five years, according to the Congressional Budget Office.


Freedom-loving American, both Republican and Democrat, are concerned with this program. It is to include 250,000 “volunteers,” and is the beginning of what President Obama called for during his presidential bid which he named as his “National Civilian Security Force” In that speech, then candidate Obama urged the creation of an organization as big and as well-funded as the U.S. military. He has declined since then to elaborate.


Canada Free Press reports:

The Give Act puts makes Obama’s unconstitutional plan, what he says is New Leadership for New Times, and which is called Public Allies and is modeled after Saul Alinsky’s “Peoples Organizations” and is operating under Michelle Obama with an alleged operating budget of more than $75-million a year. According to a fact sheet about Public Allies, “President Obama was a member of the founding advisory board of the non-profit organization. Michelle Obama was the founding Executive Director of Public Allies Chicago from spring, 1993 until fall 1996. She served on Public Allies National Board of Directors from 1997 until 2002. Obama was no longer on the board when Michelle was hired.


Radical First Lady?
Michelle Obama was also a pioneer in the social entrepreneur movement that stated that its mandate was for the creation of new approaches and to organize to provide new solutions to social problems. Like most things Saul Alinsky, H.R. 1388 sounds noble in stating why wide-sweeping change is necessary. “The Give Act” aims to “leverage investments to increase State, local, business and philanthropic resources to address national and local challenges.”





All encompassing in its power, H.R. 1388 takes control of all volunteerism in America, and impacts everything from the lemonade stands of children, to the residents of senior citizens retirement homes. So far, the only media to have taken an interest in these disturbing plans have been right wing blogs. First, our ears perked up when we heard Michelle Obama speak these weirdly authoritarian words:

“Barack Obama will require you to work. He is going to demand that you shed your cynicism. That you put down your divisions. That you come out of your isolation, that you move out of your comfort zone . . . Barack will never allow you to go back to your lives as usual – uninvolved, uninformed.”



Then, last summer at a campaign rally in Colorado Springs, Obama took the occasion to introduce his plan to implement a “National Civilian Security Force”, in which he described an organization “as big and well-funded as the U.S. military.”



Media outlets were so perturbed by Obama’s bizarre words, they airbrushed them out of the published transcripts of the speech. And then, right after he was elected, he raised eyebrows again with this audacious change.gov “Office of the President Elect” website post:



Obama will call on citizens of all ages to serve America, by developing a plan to require 50 hours of community service in middle school and high school, and 100 hours of community service in collge every year. See? There’s that word, “require”, again, which was eventually scrubbed from the site when an internet uproar ensued. And, who can forget Rahm Emanuel’s words from his 2006 tome, The Plan: Big Ideas for America, which we didn’t hear about until after the election:

“It’s time for a real Patriot Act that brings out the patriot in all of us. We propose universal civilian service for every young American. Under this plan, All Americans between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five will be asked to serve their country by going through three months of basic training, civil defense preparation and community service.

Here's how it would work. Young people will know that between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five, the nation will enlist them for three months of civilian service. They'll be asked to report for three months of basic civil defense training in their state or community, where they will learn what to do in the event of biochemical, nuclear or conventional attack; how to assist others in an evacuation; how to respond when a levee breaks or we're hit by a natural disaster. These young people will be available to address their communities' most pressing needs.”

How about not?

Now that a form of this plan has been passed by the House, could we possibly get someone in the media to please take an interest? I suspect most Americans would be creeped out by this. But they have to know about it, first.



Obama’s Civil Defense Program Resembles Domestic Draft
Paul Joseph Watson Prison Planet.com

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

A newly rediscovered 2006 audio clip has shed more light on Rahm Emanuel and Barack Obama’s plan for compulsory community service and a “national civilian security force”. In an interview with Ben Smith of the New York Daily News, Emanuel outlined the agenda for military-style training, essentially a domestic draft, aimed at preparing Americans for a chemical or biological terrorist attack.


Asked by Smith about the universal service plan and whether people would have to live in military barracks, Emanuel laughed before responding, “We’re going to have universal civil defense training, somewhere between the ages of 18 to 25 you will do three months of training….but there can be nothing wrong with all Americans having a joint similar experience of what we call civil defense training or civil service in service of the country, in preparation, which will give people a sense of what it means to be an American.”


In response to the point that the program was significantly expanded in comparison to what the U.S. government already has in place, Emanuel responded, “Guess what – we have a lot more challenges so we are going to need a lot to do it.”

What challenges is Emanuel referring to? The same crisis foretold by Joe Biden, Colin Powell and others that we are “guaranteed” will unfold shortly after Obama takes office?


“It will be a common experience and we will be prepared, God forbid, God forbid that there is a chemical hit, another terrorist act or natural disaster becoming more frequent – there’ll be a body of citizens who are ready and capable and trained – that’s all you have to think about,” said Emanuel before smugly declaring, “We’re all here for you OK? It’s a circle of love.”



Asked if the training would be military style, with people wearing uniforms, Emanuel stated, “If you’re worried about are you going to have to do 50 jumping jacks the answer is yes,” adding that the service could be done through state national guard.

A jumping jack is a military term for an exercise otherwise known as a star jump. What on earth does Emanuel mean when he says Americans are going to be forced to perform military-style physical exercises and what does this have to do with civil defense or preparing for a terrorist attack? It sounds more like the state-mandated physical workouts described in Orwell’s 1984.



The video then features a clip from C-Span from August 2006 in which Emanuel is asked whether the program will be compulsory, to which he responds, “In a sense it’s required of everybody, 18 to 25, three months, and at some point at that point you do it.”




The use of the word “required” is noteworthy, because this exact terminology was removed from Obama’s change.gov website when controversy over the program arose last week.

The militarized nature of the program and its supposed intention sounds more like a draft-lite than the “community service” angle now being pitched on Obama’s website. It also bears similarities to the nationwide FEMA-run program training pastors and preachers to act as “pacifiers” in the event of martial law being declared after a terror attack or a natural disaster.



Will the liberal left pay as much attention to Emanuel’s stated agenda to implement a proxy domestic draft as they did to rumors of Bush bringing back conscription, or will the true scope of Obama’s “national civilian security force” continue to fly under the radar?


Watch the clip below.

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We have been called Un-American:

'Un-American' attacks can't derail health care debate Nancy Pelosi and Steny Hoyer

Nancy Pelosi declared that our protests were not grassroots Americans but instead Astroturf -



She has stated that, “America will be far safer if we reduce the chances of a terrorist attack in one of our cities than if we diminish the civil liberties of our own people.” Yet The Speaker of the House of Representatives turns right around and condemns the millions of Americans who personify the meaning of freedom by marching, blogging, writing letters and speaking over the airwaves in the legal and God-given right to exercise our civil liberties and duty to preserve the nation from tyrants and traitors like Nancy Pelosi, Steny Hoyer, Barack Obama, Cass Sunstein, Van Jones, Ezekiel Emanuel, Joe Biden and the list goes on. They were successful and managed to dupe millions of us (Present company excluded), into voting for an administration and congress that hate America in her present and original form.

Let me say it then. America, I am very proud of you! We have stood up, spoken up, risen up and said, we are not duped anymore! This has not become the Obama free-for-all that the left wing radical fringes thought the election of Barack Obama would produce. This is still our country, our freedom, our Constitution and our right to have a say in what happens to our families, our wealth, our military and our freedom. We will not stand still and watch the not so slow evaporation of freedom in America. We now see a united front made up of Republicans, Democrats, Libertarians and and Americans from all walks of life hitting the streets to declare, not now, not tomorrow, not ever! For in a true and wonderful way, the American People are speaking out and it is just the beginning, and we shall not go away! God bless the American People!



Why Americans are Up in Arms
By: Floyd and Mary Beth Brown
FrontPageMagazine.com | Monday, August 31, 2009


Leftist elites are up in arms about Americans up in arms. At two recent Obama town hall meetings, men exercising their Second Amendment rights were spotted carrying firearms. While we do not condone threatening the president or anyone else for that matter, these citizens are well within their rights. It is legal to carry a firearm while demonstrating to protect your liberties.



In New Hampshire, William Kostric showed up near a town hall meeting carrying a pistol, and a placard proclaiming, “It is time to water the tree of liberty!” in reference to the famous Thomas Jefferson quotation, “The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of tyrants and patriots.” Kostric had no intention of hurting the president; he was exercising his rights and making a political statement using the pistol as a visual reminder. When interviewed by Chris Matthews of MSNBC, Kostric said he went to the town hall because he “wanted people to remember the rights that we have, and how quickly we are losing them.” After making this statement, Chris Matthews verbally accosted him and compared him to John Wilkes Booth and other fanatics. Kostric clearly explained that he was not advocating violence, but was practicing his constitutional right to bear arms.



The second incident prompted the media to erroneously pronounce the opponents of Obamacare as racist rednecks. A young man named Chris wore an AR-15 slung over his shoulder with a 9 mm pistol strapped on his hip. Roughly a dozen others were also carrying firearms with Chris outside an Obama appearance in Arizona. Earlier, these individuals coordinated their right to openly carry firearms with the Phoenix Police Department. They deliberately did this to show the country that the Phoenix police are very supportive of their rights to keep and bear arms. The elitist media missed the whole point and went ballistic.

Chris Matthews fretted about assassination attempts, while Contessa Brewer stammered, “there are questions about whether this has racial overtones... I mean here you have a man of color in the presidency and white people showing up with guns.” MSNBC’s pop culture analyst Touré anxiously said, “I’m not going to be surprised if we see somebody get a chance and take a chance and really try to hurt him.” However, these talking heads glossed over a crucial detail: the man carrying the AR-15 was black. They were dishonestly trying to portray the group of gun toting citizens in Arizona as racists. MSNBC cleverly edited the video footage to show only the semi-automatic rifle, hiding the face of its bearer, Chris, an African American.

The liberal media conveniently ignore that in 2000 at one of George W. Bush’s events, Black Panthers demonstrated while carrying firearms. The Black Panthers actually have a history of murder and violence in contrast to the Phoenix demonstrators. The Panthers, just as newsworthy, generated no buzz at the time. They should have been referenced in light of recent events by these talking heads.

These liberal media elites outraged by gun-bearing citizens showing up at Obama events have probably never used a gun in real life. Chris Matthews, Rick Sanchez, Contessa Brewer and the rest who assume guns represent violence don't likely own a firearm. Most Americans don’t see firearms as a symbol of violence, like our founding fathers, they see them as a tool for personal protection.

The founders recognized the significance and importance of firearms. "Firearms stand next in importance to the constitution itself,” George Washington movingly said. “They are the American people's liberty teeth and keystone under independence … from the hour the Pilgrims landed to the present day, events, occurrences and tendencies prove that to ensure peace security and happiness, the rifle and pistol are equally indispensable … the very atmosphere of firearms anywhere restrains evil interference -- they deserve a place of honor with all that's good." William Kostric and Chris have it right, if we don’t stand and demonstrate peacefully for all of our freedoms, they will quickly slip away and vanish. Remember, it’s much easier to hold onto something, than try and get it back after you’ve lost it.
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Floyd and Mary Beth Brown are bestselling authors and speakers. Mary Beth's latest book is featured at www.condibook.com. Together they maintain a blog at www.2minuteview.com.
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Paul A. Ibbetson September 3, 2009

The TEA Part movement, which started for most as a small grassroots effort by disenchanted Americans to voice their disapproval with the government, is now growing to epic proportions. The movement has transcended the bounds of simply being events that people have heard about in faraway places, to events happening in almost every town on any given day. In fact, for TEA Party goers, it's no longer a case of trying to make a single event, but how many events can you actually make. With that said, even though the growth of the TEA Party movement has expanded to the size that even "Bagdad Bob" (Saddam Hussein's former information minister) would have to recognize, there is still much confusion as to who the people that comprise the TEA Party movement are, and what brings them together.

To properly answer this question, one must attain the high ground. That is, the best vantage point to observe the totality of the TEA Party environment. For me, this bird's eye view came from the speaker's platform at the 2009 Wichita, Kansas, 'American TEA Party.' Like a growing number of Americans today, the Wichita Kansas event was not my first "TEA Party." However, it was my first time to speak in front of hundreds of TEA Party goers, and my first time to announce each and every guest, and meet every vendor and organization.

Coming to terms with the bird's eye view, and the reality that it brings, is somewhat of a double edged sword. From the optimum vantage point, I can now see that there was much less uniformity among TEA Party goers than I might have initially thought. For example, there were citizens and groups who have economic concerns that are hardly considered by people who were attending to voice their concern over abortion issues. There is certainly no uniformity of overarching policy agreement among the TEA Party crowd members, which included Blue Dog Democrats (of the "Democratic Blue Dog Coalition," made up of "moderates" and "fiscally conservative" Democrats), conservatives, independents, and libertarians. There were the obvious cultural differences between the seniors (with their folding chairs) and the teens (that would just as soon stand). Other apparent differences within the crowd were the mothers jostling their newborns and the business men who just never seemed to remember to turn their cell phones off. The TEA Party goers were as different to one another as were their political views. I know; I walked the booths, I pressed the flesh (shook hands), and I gave and received an ear-full of agreements and disagreements on the world of politics until my throat was sore and my ears were ringing.

Yet, with all the differences that can separate the people boldly represented among the TEA Party attendees, this motley crew of contradictions stands side by side united, prepared to oppose the current government, under a common cause. What is the common factor that binds American's together who think so differently? It is the component of "American exceptionalism" that transcends all other descriptions of why Americans are who they are: freedom. It is freedom at its basic core. Americans of all walks of life demand the freedom to decide their own future. They demand the freedom to disagree with their government — even as they demand the freedom to disagree with each other. In reality, it is the most defining, as well as beautifully stubborn, characteristic of the founding fathers that remains within the bloodlines of the greatest majority of Americans today. When a clear and present danger threatens to cut the chords of freedom from the American people, we are galvanized by an intrinsic commonality to act. This valuable point may have been lost on the European journalists who were present at the event, but it is the obvious cohesive factor that gives the TEA Party movement it's large attendance numbers, and it's ultimate power, by unifying a common thread among the myriad of specialized concerns found at each TEA Party — from town to town, and state to state.


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Paul A. Ibbetson is a published author and lecturer on the Patriot Act. He is a former Chief of Police of Cherryvale, Kansas, and member of the Montgomery County Drug Task Force. Paul received his Bachelor's and Master's degree in Criminal Justice at Wichita State University, and is currently completing his PhD. in sociology at Kansas State University. Paul is the author of the book "Living Under The Patriot Act: Educating A Society." Paul is also the radio host of the 2008 entertainment program of the year, "Conscience of Kansas," 91.9 f.m. www.ibbetsonusa.com
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'Tea Party Express' trucks on with tour
aimed at health care - CNN

They're angry and not going to take it anymore. And now they are doing something about it -- again. A protester takes part in an anti-health care reform rally August 14 in San Francisco, California. On Friday, the Tea Party Express group sets off on a bus tour starting in Sacramento, California, and winding down in Washington on September 12. At that point, the group notes, a three-day march on the nation's Capitol will take place to protest health care reform and what they see as big government.


The tea party movement gained momentum this year; several parties were held across the country this summer to protest President Obama and the Democrats' economic stimulus plans, among other things.


On July 4, nearly 2,000 advocates, toting signs and chanting slogans, rallied outside Congress. Activists said the TEA Party Day -- an acronym for "Taxed Enough Already" -- was in response to runaway government spending. But now, the focus is on health care reform, an issue that has brought about demand for bigger, more encompassing debate throughout the country and in Congress. "What brought everything together was the Obamacare idea, which contains every odiferous objection," Tea Party Express organizer Mark Williams said Friday. "Is it health care? [Sen. Ted] Kennedy care?"


Conservative groups such as Freedom Works, run by former House Majority Leader Dick Armey, Campaign Liberty and the Institute for Liberty are just some of those who will attend the march.

The caravan of vehicles features two 45-foot buses along with several RVs and a contingent of SUVs and support vehicles. It will head east from California "to unify, educate, and most importantly encourage Americans to continue their opposition of deficit spending, government-run health care, and irresponsible bailouts," the group said in a statement.


The tour is being funded by Our Country Deserves Better, a conservative political action committee.

When asked why tea party groups are now angry over the rising deficit and an increase in government's size, which started during the Bush administration, Williams countered: "It hadn't reached critical mass."


But Williams, who said his organization is nonpartisan, was quick to point out that the rallies are not aimed at one politician over another, namely President Obama.


"This is not people upset over one particular politician or one particular party," Williams said. "In fact, if you ask the Republicans in the crowd, you'll find they are just upset at their party as they are at the Democrats." Jeremy Bird, deputy director of Organizing for America, the successor group to Obama for America, said the anger over health care reform seen in town halls is being fueled by cable news channels singling out rowdy activists.


"Supporters of reform are far outnumbering opponents," he said. "And unfortunately, some of the 24-hour cable news echo chamber has focused on the small minority of folks who have tried to disrupt it."

Bird's group is also holding a multistate tour aimed at dispelling health care reform rumors.

"We're having great stops ... overwhelming support from local elected officials from average citizens," he said.