In it, he displayed disturbing images of the wholesale slaughter of Palestinian men, women and children in their own land…by the inhuman monsters of israhell.
Even though I will usually do all in my power to find that commonality in any human, if it isn’t written on their face for all to see…I find myself recently abandoning that policy when it comes to members of the “tribe”. That bothers me. Like any self-respecting bigot(is there such a thing?) however, there is a twinge of guilt when I opt out of conversations with these people, saying to myself that I already know them, what they are going to say, how they feel about this or that…you know…real prejudice. And I blame them. Well the leaders of their cult anyway. That’s the easy way out. All of us bigots know that. We merely go into group-think mode and ascribe all sorts of horrible things to anyone representing a group, in our minds. This is how bigotry works. We are almost always the good guy. Anyone belonging to a group that has hurt us, or we believe that can somehow, is the bad guy. I suppose that comes from some cave-man DNA and has to do with avoiding poisonous plants or snakes or some such stuff. I dunno.
I have a problem. It’s an addiction. I won’t seek help for it however. It’s espresso. For twenty-odd years I have been hooked on the flavour and the rush of 4 shots of a dark aromatic squeezing of that bean that the angels gave us. Even as I write, I am high on the exuberant feeling it provides. I think Napoleon said it best: “Strong coffee, and plenty, awakens me. It gives me warmth, and unusual force, a pain that is not without pleasure. I would rather suffer than be senseless”.
After first tasting the stuff…I couldn’t get enough. Every day, more and more. On my way to work in the morning. A couple shots or a latte at lunch. A mocha in the afternoon to lift me till the day’s end.
I was a junkie. Sort of. Still am.
Anyway, when I kinda-retired from engineering, I decided to go into the espresso business. I found out quickly that I am no businessman. I don’t value money that much. I drank up or gave away most of my profits. My shop was always filled with addicts like myself…and I liked it. But my accountant and the bank didn’t care much for my dream of purveying this drug to others like myself that were similarly afflicted. A few years down the line…Starsucks came on the scene. They were more expensive than my fare and much glitzier. They sold mostly fru-fru drinks. Kinda-coffee drinks with more sugar than caffeine. Although they espresso-ed a decent blend of coffee…mine was much better…to the connoisseur.
But at the time, there weren’t that many of us out there. So fru-fru whipped-cream sugary drinks and jewish marketing stole my dream of selling what I loved. Oh well. Jews happen.
Anyway, that isn’t what I wanted to ruminate on right now. What I do want to tackle is of a personal nature.
On one afternoon a week, I meet a friend for coffee(make mine a tall 4-shot ristretto mocha). Yes. We meet at Starsucks. I know…I know…I know what you are saying. “How can the Timster sell out like that?!?!” Well, it comes to this in everyone’s life. Where do you draw the line?
I am not relating this horrible admission of guilt to clear my conscience. I am fully aware that this coffee chain is owned by a zionist jew, and probably a great deal of profits from his ridiculously large business is funneled to jews in occupied Palestine. Howard Schultz(CEO) is an asshole. Everyone knows this. Even before espresso could take off in this country…outside of Seattle where he stole the idea and bought a real espresso shop… he changed it into a horribly expensive habit to acquire. And in the bargain managed to put people like us that really enjoy the drink, out of business. I am not bitter. My business failure is my own fault really. I am not jewish. I would never prosper selling anything.
But that’s as may be.
The point is that if I want to go out for coffee in this country…a REAL strong espresso drink, either I try to find a one-owner coffee house…or I just give up and drink Starsucks.
I also like ketchup. I cannot buy a bottle of ketchup in this country without the little circle-U (or other kosher symbols) on the bottle…meaning that some ass-wipe rabbi is getting profit from my proclivity to have this tomato extract on my sandwiches. I am not giving up ketchup. The good rabbi knows this. He owns my conscience on this matter…as Schultz owns my espresso habit(outside of making it in my garage on the machine left over from my shop).
You draw your own personal lines. Those little gutters in the dirt that you draw with your toe, that mean you will not…and no one else better…step over them. Mine is somewhere beyond espresso and ketchup. I can live with that, because I am trapped within my own likes and dislikes. It is easy for me not to patronize television, cosmetics made on and from stolen Palestinian land, or diamonds. I have no use for, or hate all of them.
But even that’s not the point. I support the BDS efforts to boycott israhell. Even with my own money. But I won’t assume guilt for any of my money being funneled into that terrorist state that come from my day-to-day purchases. There is little money in this country, and most of the Western world, that is extracted from the Gentile through their commerce and taxes that isn’t subject to supporting the jewish takeover of this age we live in. But I refuse to own the purpose or the destination of these funds. I place that on the head of the jew himself. I will continue to fight the talmudic values on every front here. I will vilify the judaic in all their inhuman actions as I see them. I will hurt the jew as much as possible with all my efforts…but I will not sit in a cave bereft of all that life has to offer BECAUSE of his intervention into the lives of the Gentile. He, nor no one else will make me take responsibility for the money that I spend to enjoy my existence. I do not give him that power.
Anyway…I have been a regular at Starsucks for so long that I have gotten to know some great people that work there. They are Gentiles. They are decent humans working for a living. They routinely give me my espresso at a discount or for free…and I tip them generously.
There. My conscience feels a little better now. Not perfect…but we all have our lines to draw.
We of a certain age must own this generation and their child-like compliance to the way things are. We conceived them, we raised them, and we spoiled them. We clearly didn’t do a very good job. It really is our fault. Not the younger ones that refuse to grow up and take on the responsibilities of life as so many of us had to do at an early age. We saw a time when things weren’t so great. We vowed that our children would not have to experience the pains that we did. Not reflecting on the fact that those very experiences, those hard times that shaped us, were necessary to produce the decent people that we are. Our intentions were good. Our heart was in the right place. But what we produced was generally speaking, a weak-willed irresponsible generation, totally dependent on authority. The authority of that babysitter that we left them with…the media. That media raised them when we were at work…so these children that we bore know only to return to it in adulthood. They literally know nothing else. To we that had these children, TV was just an entertainment. To them it is the world.
Now things still aren’t so great, but our mistaken rearing techniques are the cause of most of the troubles.
I have an intelligent friend that sees me as a kind of wacko. Someone not to be taken too seriously. I tell this person things, and they go “uh-huh”…as you would to a child that tells you of the boogey-man in the closet. But the same information that I give them which they take with a grain of salt, when heard on their TV or read in their paper, all-of-a-sudden becomes fact. That amazes me. Time and time again, I am “proven” to be correct about some thing or another, and yet they refuse to believe it from my lips. It must be read to them a few days later by some bleach-blond that routinely forgets into which end of her shoes to put her toes. And that is what I am talking about. This information is at my friend’s fingertips, and yet they prefer that some pixilated bimbo give them the version to believe.
That blond and the company which pimps her have become “Mommy”. No child fears much else than a spanking from her…be it an item like… “A Denver man that refused to pay a speeding ticket, was found to have antisemitic website links on his home computer”. Or… “Palestinian terrorists launched six more missiles into a sparsely populated area of Israel this week…thankfully there were no injuries”. It’s all the same. Fear, hatred and lies to produce the same in the viewer’s childish mind.
We did this. We handed these animals our children’s minds.
So with all the fear-mongering that Mommy cranks out of that box of hers…it isn’t any wonder that I get so many “anonymous” readers. I get it. You are afraid. On one front or another, you are afraid that Mommy will spank. You have seen the red faces and red butts of those that crossed her and you don’t want to join them. But does it hurt that much?
A wise-guy once told me when I was oh…twenty-something. .”growing up doesn’t hurt”. Well, I took that as any twenty-something might…as an insult. But he was right. It was time to get a spine and take responsibility for my own actions. And I have since then. They know who I am, and where I live. NOT growing up can hurt much more.
In this sense, and not one of condoning any type of warfare, I think a few of us should read “The Red Badge Of Courage” again. That book and “1984” should be enough to tell you that the only truly important personal accomplishments in life are costly. But like the black eye or the swollen lip that you dreaded from that fight you previously ran away from…it just doesn’t hurt that much, and you stood up to the bully. Win or lose, you didn’t run. Mommy tends to bully all of you. Your real “Mommy” and the one that you turn on with your remote, like dutiful children. Love your real Mother. Turn off the other “Mommy”. If all of you children would do this…the electronic “Mommy” would lose her authority. Then you become the master of your own fate. It’s just that simple.
I don’t deify leaders. Never have. I figure they have enough admirers without adding my critical adoration to the mix.
I met Jack Kennedy. When I was a little kid at school, we were out for recess on our asphalt playground on a chilly autumn afternoon playing a game of “scrub baseball”. A block-long black limo pulled up and a man in a suit got out. No cameras. No reporters. An unscheduled stop. Our teacher called us all over to the iron fence and this handsome young man shook our hands and poked and teased us and asked who was up next. When he saw my friend with the bat he said “keep your eye on the ball”. That in itself was nothing. Our fathers told us that all the time. It is amazing though, what that little piece of advice can do for a kid’s swing. If a child is really listening to the coaching…he can clear his little mind of all other distractions and smack that ball as easily as slapping apples from a tree. Focus…that’s the thing.
He waved goodbye while telling us to make sure that our parents went and voted for him in a few weeks. I was too young to know what that meant. I don’t know why he stopped and kidded with us. Maybe he just liked kids and he had some time to spare between whistle stops. Anyway, it was in all the papers.
Like Bill Clinton often said about meeting Kennedy at a young age…it made a huge impression on me. But obviously the impression left on me, was of a different bent. It was more and more important to me as I grew…and of course he and “Camelot”, did not.
Not long after that, the world ended. I was about ten I think. The young man that had poked and kidded us was making an announcement on our television that clearly frightened my parents. This then frightened their children. This was about the Cuban missile crisis. I understand a bit more now of what was actually going on behind the scenes when that message was delivered to us. But it was unprecedented in my lifetime till then. It was the first time most had ever heard official warning to a populace of an impending nuclear exchange.
Well, the jewish took care of Jack for Dimona, refusal to sell israhell f-16’s, attempting to abolish their federal reserve scam, Northwoods and a slew of other ashkanazi reasons. But that was then. To me at the time…when they had him killed…the world ended again in a way. Some innocence was lost and I stepped into a much larger world. Even the radio airwaves played a song which, although had nothing to do with Cuba or communism or jews, nonetheless kept that phrase on the tip of our tongues as we sang along…“don’t they know it’s the end of the world?”
The world has ended many times since then. For all of us. Not just radical change in our personal lives, but the world outside our heads.
I also met Bobby Kennedy…well, his wife anyway. He was speaking at our town square…a small republican town. After the speech, he and Ethel went to the Democratic headquarters in town…and a few friends and I were milling around there getting bumper stickers and pins and such. We didn’t know they were coming so it was a surprise when they walked up to us. Ethel shook my hand and thanked me for my support. Me? I wasn’t supporting anyone…but that was a nice sentiment. She was so exuberant and pretty and open-faced. It was hard not to fall in love at first sight. Bobby was across the room engaged with others…I didn’t wait to talk to him. Sorry I didn’t now. Oh well…it was in all the papers.
But jews put and end to Bobby too. Shame.
I look around and see the end of another world. There is no innocence left. They see to that. Amerikan Idolatry and faux revolutions, and the world we used to know is no longer good enough for them.
Maybe I am not getting across what I want. Perhaps I am not “communicating effectively” to use a phrase that in Jack Kennedy’s time would have sounded very odd. Things change. Worlds end.
So anyway, I was just thinking about all the things that have happened since that autumn day when the soon-to-be-assassinated president told us to keep an eye on the ball. I still am, Jack. I know who is pitching it. I know who killed you and your brother… when that world ended.
I have decided to cash in…like…I dunno…WhatReallyHappened or Prison Planet. Yeah, that’s a way to get more folks on my bandwagon. I’ll reprint stuff that other real journalists have written, and by their content I will set up a kind of “shadow philosophy” that my readers can change to fit there own. I’ll be like the jewish publishing moguls. Nothing editorial. No real opinions that tie me down to a view of things that my advertisers(I will have a bunch of them) won’t like. Maybe just some snide comments that can be read in many ways. Yeah…that’s it! If it’s anti- NWO-Masonic-Illuminati-Big Government-even israhell(as long as I don’t actually vilify judaism), I’ll reprint it. Why didn’t I see the potential here before!? I could be rich! I could be famous! I could have a “following”.
Ya see…Ted stopped by again. For those of you that don’t know Ted, he is an extra-terrestrial dog that gives me advice. Well, suggestions anyway. Ted and my wife are tag-teaming me about money. It’s their contention that if I am spending so much time and energy on this little effort of mine to be a thorn in the side of the jew, that I should at least make a wage doing so. They have convinced me. Time is money.
So from now on, I will be selling t-shirts, DVD’s and Dr. Shapiro’s youth serum.
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There won’t be any of my opinions flying your way from now on. No profit in that. There will however, be the opinions of others. I am going to concentrate most of my efforts from now on, in bringing you more real news, truth and pundit opinion.
If there is a family in Woodland Hills, California that have had their basketball goal ripped out of the ground by evil neighborhood associations….I’m on it. If there is an 80-year-old woman being fondled by a TSA goon…I’m going to give you the gory details. If you see chem-trails in the sky over your neighborhood…I am there for you, and filming. I am going to start reprinting Max Kaiser’s column about what to invest in to make money off the NWO. He knows best and is on OUR side. You will be reading endless examinations of the fraud on Wall Street. Who got what bonuses. Who is running the biggest ponzi schemes across the world. Buy the T-shirt! If I don’t make 3 million dollars by the first week in June…the NWO is going to shut me down, fellow readers… and put me in prison!
I will have a special correspondent covering the next Bilderberg meeting, no matter what it costs me in hotel bills and HD filming. I am just that concerned about informing you about these Illuminati bankers and Masonic hand-shakers…the bastards. Get my DVD and find out more!
I am taking off the gloves here. For you. So you won’t have to. And I PERSONALLY guarantee Dr. Shapiro’s youth and anti-cancer serum. I look years younger and I am told by the good Doctor that I may live forever. Order a bottle now.
I am also going to start making personal appearances. I feel my public will demand this of me. So does Ted. He has taken on the role of manager. He says…go one way…or go another. Don’t sit on any fences. I tend to agree.
Of course to you the reader…this means benefits all around. You will be part of a REAL movement. A club of sorts to beat the bad guy back to stone. You will, of course have to join(hit “join” button) to take advantage of all these savings on products and “special” announcements. But by joining(a mere $2,500 USD or 20 Euros per month) you not only get my opinion…you get the TRUTH!
I think this is my calling. I always wanted to be an affluent celebrity…living on a tropical island somewhere…now Ted has shown me how…on the backs of my readership. You will no longer get the “truth” for free…hey, I got a lotta costs out here folks! Like everything else in Western society that you have learned to pay for…now you pay Timster! Yay!