Throughout my existence, it has always been uppermost within the furthest reaches of my mind that certain civil liberties were endeavored to be trampled upon by seditionists within the fabric of Ameri-can society. A group of individuals and corporate entities that covertly sought to dismantle the foundation of all that this nation was built upon. To trample upon the sacred constitution that which laid waste and bare the lives of so many of our brethren, to wit the sacrifice of those that gave their everything and all—to a cause much greater than themselves.
From the Lexington Green to our present battles in the Mideast territories, patriots of America entered into harms way with unparallel thought of self; yet unselfishly giving all that they espouse upon their own declaration of freedom against imperial adventurism at the hand of totalitarians that seek to bring down this nation and its way of life.
Our lives have been untouched for over 200 years, insofar as would be categorized as internal strife and revolutionary acts of guerilla warfare. Yet, there exists within this great reclamation of our con-stitutional rights, a certain rogue ideology that further enumerates that warfare is required in order to secure and solidify the principals upon the United States Constitution. An exodus from the realties that brought Americans out from under the yoke and leash of British imperial servitude. A journey into the violence filled world of war within our own borders—Americans against Americans.
I submit that revolution is both a right, and a sacred duty to every American that resides within our borders. Consequently I submit that a revolution would change the face of America and it’s zealous political agenda—but at a steep cost that far exceeds what America’s forefathers could have envisioned during their struggles. I submit that our society, our world, and our country has evolved from those days of muskets and bayonet charges, into a militaristic society that embarks upon wholesale destruction of life without pause or regard for the long-term ramifications thereof. Our nation’s moth-ers have wept and despaired for far to long upon this revolutionary principal.
With utter dismay I have witnessed the obsessive nature of a giant beast arising from the snake pit in our nation’s capitol. A pit of vipers brandishing forked-tongues that deceive the populace with their charm and pompous polished ideologies. This awakening beast feeds upon it’s own unchecked growth, hoping to claim as it’s own, the very lives and souls of its countrymen. But absent from the moral-istic fiber that so intertwines the society of America. Instead, this beast reaches out with it’s many tentacles to wrap itself among the lives of those it swore to serve and protect, and failing to do so, em-barks upon a devious glorification of itself, and seeks to shield and insulated itself from the wrath of those that are cognizant of it’s miserable failings.
I have stood on the sidelines for a great portion of my adult life, watching across the vast horizons for a sign that would bring this epic struggle onto my doorway. At times I would learn or recognize that certain events could be the precursor of that which many so feared, and others desired. The second revolution that topples the pretentious undermining vermin working against America’s founding prin-cipals.
I hear the rumblings of discontent from all walks of life, from nearly every sector, and all speak the same language of distain and malice against the beast arisen. Even then, there are many within, that actively seek to justify a war by weakening the beast through a persisted attack against the system so despised by so many. A war that they claim is both justified and victory capable within our grasp—that we must be the propagators that fire the first angry shot—thereby creating the perfect conditions conducive to further propagation that ushers in a second revolutionary war.
My friends and patriots—that is not the way, at the present time. Do not clamor for war—for the price might very well be your own children and kin’s blood that you offer. Say nothing of your own blood and lives; for a blood debt will be owed by all that tread too quickly and foolishly into this foray. Now is not the time for revolutionary acts that pit each against the other. The time for that must not be on our hands, nor will it be upon our blood. Leave that blood debt to the cronies of the beast—let them taste their own blood first.
A new war must be undertaken—a new methodology that battles from within the beast usurper. We must tear off the mask of anonymity from those hide from our wrath and piety. No more can these petty administrators be allowed to seek or hold elected positions within our political machine. They must be purged as a bad rash must be purged from an infants derriere. These socialist insects must be identified and brought into the light of public opinion—then banished from public servitude forever. America needs not another war, for we have always been at war throughout our history, as our cemeteries will so attest. We must first fight this coming battle with our political weapons—our combined and unified voices that thunder and echo across the plains of America.
That is true rebellion, that is true revolutionary tactics—and the cost isn’t forthwith as steep as Americans killing other Americans. I submit that our course must be as such. That we must restrain our an-gered rage, before it commits us onto the path of blood-letting and violence. For that must not be allowed to happen unless there is no other choice, until the choice is taken from us, and until the beast rises up in violence against humanity. Only then can we tread upon this path with God’s justification and mankind’s sympathies—for anything less than that would be anarchy that leads to our own doom.
Teach not angered retaliation to your children and their children—abstain from harboring mal-content hatred for a unjust system, when the unjustness lays upon the foreheads of those responsible for the beast’s awakening—for the beast’s appetite for power and wealth far re-moves itself from the eyes of God, and foolishly believes itself above God’s wrath and judg-ment.
Sharpen your wits as you would sharpen your battle knives. Razor sharp minds incorporated and united among the far-flung brethren of our cause will damage more than ten thousands knives in a single stroke. For the beast fears not our knives; yet it shuns and hides within its own hypocrisies against the rushing tide of disenfranchised angry voices.
Lest you forget; maintain your readiness both intrinsically and extrinsically. Keep company with those that have crossed the lines of illusionary propaganda to arise in defiance of the beast’s agenda. Shake hands upon the altar of kinship among the brethren that fly the flag of glory in the face of these adversities—for that is what the beast utterly fears and despises, thus make itself weak.
For who among us would be named less than a true patriot, if by action and singularity of mind—he so challenged the beast’s growing blood lust with not a clenched fist—but an open hand that points a shameful accusing finger–calling out the beast’s in its reproachful appe-tite; admonishing those tentacles that sought to appease their own greedy hunger at the cost of our enslavement and subjugation thereof. None; none upon the face of this earth can lay fault or blame at the feet of those that undertake to sheath their knives in the name of ad-dress and grievances, for that is the way the beast can be dismantled in its entirely without obliging the debt of blood inherent. Let us seek a remedy such as this, instead of killing the sons and daughters of America in order to propagate further political discord—for anything other than that feeds the sustenance of the beast, and nourishes its insatiable hunger ever-more. This we cannot more so allow.
Hold close to you heart the innocence of your youth, and clench your fist upon the hilt of your battle knives—but release them for the moment to ponder a world rife with the foul stench of blood spilled at our hands—a stench arising from the slaughtered children of our brethren and kinsmen.
In conclusion; I offer this as a means to an end. That the scales and balance of justice weigh our actions in the coming years. That our cause remain both vigilant and deliberate, and that our actions be honorable and steadfast in the face of this epic struggle for our national identity. I pray that our action exemplify those of America’s forefathers in their struggle against the beast arisen—and that our resul-tant struggles bequeath our children’s children a country basking in the light of democracy and freedom, and a nation of citizens that love their country and fear not their government as we do this day.
Franke Schein—Anchorage, Alaska
NINE YEARS OLD! Look at the burn marks on her hands. THIS IS A RELIGION…?
The “Monster” called her father-shot her nine times, and then killed Sarah’s little sister. I wish that I could be there when this guy is dropped from a long rope off a very tall bridge. i want this bastard to feel some pain on his way to hell.
May he ROT IN HELL!