im not gona lie, im about sick and tired of people just shrugging at me and saying, "eh, i can't do anything about it" or looking me in the eyes and telling me to shut up. no joke, someone looked me in the eye and said, "you should just stop, because i'm not going to lose any sleep tonight. and when i wake up, i'm not writing my congressman. i don't care dude."

you make me want to fucking vomit. dumb fucking slave. you're worried about going out to karaoke with your friends and scoring with some tool. fuck you, fuck your way of living. you don't stand up for freedom, you'll get what's coming to you: slavery.

and nowadays, slavery under governments mean death by firing squad in a concentration camp. all the while, the people living around the camps, won't even acknowledge that your around.

remember, the people that lived near the nazi concentration camps had ash coming down like snow and said absolutely fucking nothing. so when the time comes and the government finds you are no longer needed, you're tossed into the camps and left to fucking die. hows that sound?

fucking slime bag. reap what you sew mother fucker

 

PS. your a bitch

Watch the Valkyries, they're on their ride.

The last time a tear fell from my eye was the day a foreigner performed a false oath and took the office of President of the United States. But sitting at work at about 4:30am reading a book titled, "Battle for the Republic, The Winter War", a single tear fell from my right eye. Here is the passage that brought it on.

"On Sunday afternoon, formation was called in the meeting hall that had also been used for classes the past weeks [5 week boot camp]. The captain asked the men to take their seats up front in the hall. Upon doing so, once all had filed into the room and were at their seats, the old Special Forces sergeant called them to attention. Then the doors to the side of the hall were opened and the visitors, along with the ladies of the company entered. Five of the women stood to the side of the doors bearing several items wrapped in dark blue cloth. The wive and girlfriend line the walls of the room and stood waiting. Each had a small cloth bundle with them. The old sergeant called out, "parade - rest." The captain stepped forward to the front of the formation with his XO beside him alone with his staff. He looked at his men and turned to the guests and women and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, I present the fighting men of the 34th Company. We pledge our lives as your shield against the tyrant." The five women stepped forward and came to stand across from the officers. The captain's wide stood facing him sideways so as to also face the men. The old sergeant called out, "Company, atten-shun!" She then said, "Men of the 34th Company. We thank you for the gift of protection that you offer. As a token of our love for you, we present the unit colors made with our own hands. Each of your women stitched a part of it. We present this to all of you and for each of you a blade to help protect you in your work. God bless you all." The captain came forward to his wide and she uncovered the bundle. In the cloth law a new reproduction of a model 1918 Knuckle Duster trench knife. He looked at it and then at her. He picked up the knife in it's sheath and stepped back. Each officer stepped forward and were the presented their knives by their wives. Then, one at a time, each man was called up and his wife or girlfriend presented him with a new blade.

The private, like a few of the men, had no family near, but when he was called forward, an old grandmother stood waiting for him. He stepped forward and stood at attention. She unwrapped the knife she held for him. It was not new, it looked worn from use. She said, "This was my fathers. He carried it to victory in World War One as a Marine. Since I have no sons or grandsons, I give it to you. Carry it to serve you and to defend us all." He took the blade and bowed slightly. The woman smiled, leaned forward and kissed his cheek and stepped aside. The rest of the event was a blue. He had never been given such honors.

So now, the private waited along with his company as the reserve for the convoy ambush. He patted the knife on his pistol belt and waited for the order to move out. The test of fire was upon them all.



As a soldier in the Civil Defense Corps and the Illinois Militia at Large, I draw a great deal of pride from my service. But the minute I fly the old colors of my unit, I get attacked and shunned by those who aren't only closest to me, but are the ones I'm doing everything I can to protect. But the INSTANT my family gets a US Navy flag in the mail, their eyes light up and they get excited. "Oh gosh it's here! Let's hang it up outside for Jessica! Hurry, Ryan, go hang this up outside!"

I give up. If I sit here and try to pull the wool from your eyes, your squeezing them shut anyways. And if I let this pull me down emotionally any longer, I will falter. You are truly lost, and unfortunately you will never understand that.



"Tyranny is rarely seen but by those who oppose it."