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Just a few observations on what surrounds us all…a society that takes itself far too seriously and has some insane idea that we are the pinnacle of intelligent life forms…other humans, all in different forms and functions, and sadly most are stupid and blind to all but intrinsic self-preservation and greed, all examples of a species that cannot learn from mistakes.  Well, you might ask, why not?

This was a letter to a friend, but he suggested the comments were interesting enough to share it with others, so pardon mistakes and I hope there are subjects that help you try and learn more.

One thing we can all take to the bank is the fact that we are sold a pack of lies about life and what the government has discovered in the last 70 years, so what can we do now?  Start crying?  A society, if aware of the lies it’s being fed, must rise up, unite and organize, and with one voice shout, “We will not take this crap anymore, nor go softly into the night.  Tell us the truth or we will start another armed revolution.”  Well, this might have more power in America than Canada, as they have really risen up and fought a revolution, whereas Canadians are notoriously famous for being polite and nice to everyone, hence all the lies our politicians feed us.  It’s a bit funny though, as our politicians lie to us diffidently; they are not so sure of themselves, and go way overboard trying to sound official and knowledgeable; it’s like they know they are not very good liars, and know that they could get caught quite easily and that would end their cushy jobs in Ottawa.  What’s not nice is no matter what they do, they still get that fancy pension package.  I think they would still get it even if they went to jail…we don’t seem to have very good laws, and never had politicians like the American founding fathers…those men were visionaries, and created one of the best political systems against tyranny, although that’s exact who’s minding the store down there now.  Oh those great ironies of life.

I recall reading Marcus Aurelius and his reluctant book, Meditations.  Out of his many thoughts based on a stoic outlook on life, he’s given me inspiration and hope, for while he lived in a decadent and rich empire, he lived a Godly life and was more concerned with how he lived rather than how he could enjoy the power he had as Emperor.  This was especially insightful as it was during one of the most turbulent religious periods humanity has ever known.  Jesus Christ had just been nailed to the cross, and His message was slowly working its way across the Roman empire.  Their pagan gods were no match for the wisdom and truth of Christianity, yet Marcus ignored the idolatry, lived an honest and good life, but had never read the message of Christ.  It’s also sad that at this point, greater steps were not taken to ensure the men who would rise to great power within the Church were not curtailed, and allowed to become as powerful as the Kings they contended with for money and rule.  The church was allowed to form an army, have a navy and fought a great many battles; they would always claim to fight in the name of the Lord, but if you examine many of their battles, it’s obvious they were fought for material goods and Earthly power.  This would go on and allow the terror of the Inquisition to happen, along with the extinction of the Cathars based on different religious ideas, and ideas that were more Christ-like than anything the Catholics tried to stuff down the people’s throat.  This was when the ordinary man could not read, and was reliant on priests to read the Latin version of the Bible, and be told how he must live, and how much he must donate to the church.  Phrases like, “God loves a cheerful giver,” and others like that crept into the Bible, as once man starts to play with the word of God, the words end up benefiting greedy humans more than our divine Lord.

The Emperor Aurelius was the sort of person Jesus referred to as good just because his intellect inspired him to be good and avoid what was obviously evil and bad.  One of the great five “good” , Marcus believed in a single God that was all powerful and full of goodness, and that was enough for him to be careful how he lived, what he thought and how he treated other people.  He was a spiritual man before they knew what spirituality was truly about…as many have noted, being good provides an inner joy that is unlike anything we experience in an unjust world.  Immanuel Kant spoke of the “Moral Imperative,” the innate knowledge that shows us the difference between right and wrong…we are born with a special awareness that a life lived properly is a great joy, while a life of lies and deceit will drag us down, and dampen our spirit.  It is said that a good person can be noticed by his eyes…living a good life brings happiness and joy that pours out of our eyes…the window to our soul.

It could be that the small percentage of rich and powerful, the ones with access to classified scientific breakthroughs, new technologies and any new knowledge that is stunningly powerful, fearfully keep it to themselves, for they are like their medieval ancestors, worried about rebellion.

Sadly, that is a major problem when you assume positions of power and control over  a population that exceeds your handful of elite rulers by orders of magnitude that put you in a precarious position.  How can a thousand rule several billion?  Manipulation…mind control, limited access to anything important and defensive/offensive, and most of all, total control over the money that we all need to be of any consequence.

It’s hardly even worth comparing someone who can buy a block of houses with someone who can buy entire islands or even countries.  If you have more money than any government, you don’t need to worry about bribes and buying those in power, for that government, if it has a sense of self-indulgence and knows that better control over its citizens is the key to remain in power, and the more controls you have in place, the more secure your position as de facto KING.  As I mentioned earlier, this was a great concern in the days of old, and their methods of maintaining their grip over the serfs can still be seen today.  Massive stone castles are fairly safe havens, as peasants with pitch forks can hardly place you under siege, or threaten your gang of enforcers…the knights on war horses.  It was apparent to them that keeping real weapons away from those you rule is a fairly good idea, one that the American government would love to correct, but its population loves its guns, and that is firmly written into their law…the law they can’t break.  They flaunt the constitution as much as they can, write new laws, but those founding fathers were quite clever, and made sure their constitution was for the protection of the people against tyranny. Ironically, those very laws are the ones a whole new age of tyrants manipulate, or ignore as often as they can.  Only the lawyers know when the egregious use of power is unlawful…and many bureaucrats and elected officials vying for more power would love to follow Shakespeare’s advice. “Kill all the lawyers.”  Those lawyers are the only thing keeping the public sector safe from the militarization of the entire country.  It’s already well on its way, but denying the rights of freedom would truly turn America into Orwell’s 1984…a dystopian nightmare that can be seen if one visits China, or is mad enough to visit North Korea.

We would all do well to live with our eyes wide open, never trust someone on face value and make sure the truth you are told is the same truth you can find if you read a book.  It’s a lot easier to lie in a conversation; lying in a book requires careful consideration of proofs, a properly worded build up to the big lie and enough little truths to convince the reader that the writer does have some morals and is not selling you some swampland in Florida.

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We marvel at the great ruins across the world, and greatly puzzle over how they were created in South America, high in the Andes.  No trees grow there; they had no wheel nor beasts of burden, so transporting large blocks is a mystery, much more so than the slabs in Baalbek, Giza or the octogonal basalt logs of Nan Madol.  While Stonehenge, the Chinese caves of Longyou and the many temples carved into solid bedrock, such as Kaliskaya, all have some wild theories about sound levitation or the atomic obliteration of rock, yet no such magic suffices for some of the South American mysteries. 

There are conjectures and guesses, as with anything that holds our interest.  Intersecting Ley lines at some sites suggest they could be ancient Star Gates, yet like all extraordinary theories, these demand extraordinary proof.  There are no doubt many reasons these monumental monoliths were erected; along with exact astrological alignment, we have discovered many other precise calculations were used to place them on points of power…although the only Earth power we are aware of are the ley lines.  The imagined “Earth energy” that was harnessed and spread across the ancient world by obelisks is still a bedtime story and unknown.  There are possibly cosmic alignments with Earth’s magnetosphere that could produce unknown energies of which we are currently unaware, if those points somehow interact with a point in space, such as Lagrange points or forces of which we are not aware.  Scientists seem to ignore things like “Spiritual Centers or dimensional connections,” and many other possibilities that require that out of the box sort of consideration.  We are beholden to groups of experts that seem to believe “if we can’t see it, understand it, or have discovered it, it probably doesn’t exist.”  Balderdash.  We couldn’t see the wind, but know it is there; we couldn’t see magnetism, yet iron filings prove its existence…there must be other forces on the frequency scale we have yet to measure, discover or understand.

Well, this is the sort of thinking that perpetuated the Dark Ages, and reduces science to trial and error, with a lot of errors impeding the advancement of our awareness.  Once we delved into the quantum realm, the fantastic results should show us that anything is possible, and that when something observable occurs that defies explanation, only a very open mind will ever discover the explanation, and as Sherlock Holmes deduced, “Once you have eliminated all the evidence, whatever remains, no matter how bizarre or hard to accept, has to be the answer.”  I’ve been pleased to listen to lectures by cutting edge string theorists, cosmologists and quantum mechanic scientists that are proposing new answers to some of the baffling behavior of subatomic particles, including the possibility of computer code, similar to the elegance of DNA, existing at the Planck scale of existence…hidden in the very quantum foam which apparently lies at the very heart of the atomic micro-universe.  Obviously, there must be some set of instructions to ensure that when Mesons, Gluons and Quarks combine into an iron atom, that atom will be the same nature as every other iron atom.  If this implies a Matrix-like nature to all life, so be it; we don’t live in a universe of chaotic improbabilities, we exist in a state of mathematical and geometric perfection…a beautiful existence with evidences of the Golden Mean, Fibonacci sequences and incredible sophisticated and concise design.  We’ve been shown the square of a circle solution that is so elegant and straight forward, even our best mi30nds never thought to approach the solution in this manner…this was shown to us in a crop circle.  It seems certain that the great intelligences of the universe have chosen this manner of communication as it has been noticed for hundreds of years and is only starting to be understood today.  When Carl Sagan sent his detailed map of Earth and sundry information in a binary message to the stars, the answer to his query showed up in a crop circle at Chilboutan about twenty years later.  There were slight differences and even a subtle correction in the periodic tables concerning silicon.  They showed us a triple helix of DNA that represented themselves, gave a population figure of 30 billion, drew a sketch that showed they had a large head and small body, and used a signal device that was much more complex than our basic radio telescopes.  This was no hoax; the science was too exact, and the corresponding information exactly what we might imagine a real message from an alien species to have sent.  It would take an incredibly intelligent hoaxer to do all this, and we don’t exactly have that many genius level humans running around cooking up elaborate hoaxes.  In addition, the message was close to a radio telescope and included a bit-map of what they might look like.  It was spaced and formatted exactly like the message we sent, just so we would know that it was an exact counterpart to our interstellar message; in other words, it clearly stated message received, understood and here is our response.  After this, there were further messages that all met the real deal rules for non-human made crop circles.  Bent, not forced plants, no footprints, odd magnetic readings and everything the experts have discovered from the massive, geometrically amazing circles that appeared within hours, and were occasionally filmed to find orbs of light zipping around, close to the ground, and as they moved, the underlying crops were suddenly transformed into whatever message they were creating.  As the experts say, the real deal, and so geometrically amazing, it could only be made by mother nature herself or some great universal intelligence.  They contained the exactitude of a snowflake in all its geometric glory, plus the divine numerical ratio we find in Nautilus shells, flowers, starfish and a myriad of nature creations that are breathtaking in their glory.  These are the circles that cannot be faked.  A presentation on this phenomenon showed that 500 years ago, they were thought to be “mown by the devil himself,” as there was no way anyone could create such thing in one night.  Sadly, they didn’t have the benefit of seeing them from the air, a small problem that kept the wonder of the Nazca lines secret until we had flight.  Some of these circles represented human culture; one depicted the endless doorway in Lewis Carroll’s ‘Through the looking glass.’  We sometimes forget that the imaginative author was also a brilliant mathematician, which seems to the the basis underlying everything in our universe.  We should also remember that science has admitted they do not understand all things, and admit that dark matter and energy are unknowns…that could also make one curious as to what other invisible forces exist that we are unaware of at this time, but could have known about in the ancient past.

In reality, the lost history of Alexandria or complete lack of all pre-flood history deprives us of what may have been normal human abilities as suggested in the Indian Vedas.  The third eye, or Pineal gland, was much larger, more prominent and more powerful, and capable of unknown abilities.  A purported black op moon mission brought back a pilot from a crashed ship there that contained a well-preserved woman with complicated apparatus connected to this third eye; small tubes and springs seemed to give her control of the space craft, and the “team” of international astronauts called the appendage “the mark of Cain.”  That was no doubt from the opinion of the video presenters, but you never know.  From the Biblical record, there were a great number of humans who bore this mark, and perhaps they also had major access to the Heavenly technology reputed to have been passed down by the watchers or angels sent to oversee the affairs of men.  If space flight was something they readily shared, who know what other marvels they could have included in their little educational bundle.  Thus, we have a ready-made explanation for the existence of advanced technology in the distant past, and every thinking person has to wonder why archeologists are so vehemently opposed to wonders in the past, as in their special timeline, humanity were a bunch of cave-dwelling Neanderthals barely able to paint on cave walls, yet there are incredible examples of superior building techniques, technology that should not exist and other examples of knowledge that existed in the dim reaches of unknown history that managed to survive the flood catastrophe that almost every culture on Earth records in their early literature.

 

In reality, we have no idea what antediluvian humanity looked like, nor do we know what they was capable of…all we can understand are the megalithic ruins left, or the suggestions of apocryphal writings, including the Book of Enoch, who they suggested built the pyramids in preparation for the flood.  If other entities intervened and gave early humans progressive knowledge, it’s obvious most of that technology didn’t survive, or we just haven’t looked in the right places.  Searching Antarctica would be a smart move, but low and behold, American soldiers are there, and they’ve already classified certain areas, plus with hold everything they have discovered to date.  Sometimes the absence of proof that has a good chance of existing is proof in itself…especially when you have shadowy groups digging around that loudy ascert they have not found anything out of the ordinary.  As Shakespeare once said, “Methinks they doth protest too much.”  When you’re holding a 12-foot spear behind your back and someone asks you where you got the spear, the reply, “What spear?” isn’t really going to fool anyone but a class-A moron.  And from the looks of things, the American government thinks most of the world are complete morons, or they are so arrogant they don’t care what the hell we think we might know, as they’ll just deny it anyway.  Like the obvious UFO reports they later called “swamp gas,” or “the planet  Venus.”  As noted in that alleged report on how to deal with the public when covering up a UFO crash, there was a section on dealing with the media where it said “Just make up a story, and stick to it…no matter how flimsy.”  In other words, once they have shoved the evidence in a U.S. Air Force hanger, they know we’ll never get to see it, so they blatantly lie to cover up something that has thousands of witnesses.  Cases that would hold up in court cannot hold up in reality, as the liars are the ones in charge, and they also have the big guns and control of just about everyone of any importance or power.  By the way, we have Harry S. Truman to thank for that, as he created the first “men in black” group that operated outside the law and independently of any and all governmental influence.  This was the bad move that James Forrestal noticed and tried to do something about…he was thrown out of the 10th floor of Bethesda Naval Hospital after a long psychiatric examination.  Just to show they aren’t totally heartless, they did name a class of aircraft carriers after him…gee, what a bunch of nice guys.  This is exactly what the Founding Fathers tried to prevent under the constitution, and the reality that we were warned about by Eisenhower and Reagan.  At least Reagan had the intelligence to only say something when addressing the world through the U.N.  He spoke directly to Gorbachev “How quickly our differences would disappear if we were facing an alien threat from outside this world…and I ask you, is not that threat already here and amongst us?”  That cryptic quote has got to be one of the most analysed and investigated statements by almost any President, as it was fairly clear that he was talking about aliens that were already here and interacting with us, and who had the power to take over the Earth unless we all acted together as one world.  The petty nationalism of countries would soon turn into a fervent desire to be an Earthling and to fight for this planet.  Yet as many pundits tell us, aliens have enticed certain governments with exotic technology and have the powers to be eating out of their hand, and willing t believe anything they say.  We have been warned in many intercepted and hard to interpret messages from space…the one of greatest import is the one that states something like “Beware of Greeks bearing gifts.”  I believe it was a crop circle in binary that read something like: “Beware those who bring you gifts…be not discouraged, for there is much good in our universe.”  Gee, didn’t these great leaders of ours every hear that old maxim about bearers of gifts?  Did they forget the Trojan Horse?  Or are they so blinded by fancy technology they are eager to sell out humanity just so they and a few rich buddies can hop in spaceships and tool around where we have never gone before.  I really hope we aren’t ruled by idiots that stupid, but it seems that is the case.  From the rumors I’ve heard, it looks like the lunatics really are running the asylum, and the asylum is our planet Earth.  Perhaps they have those medals on too tight, or tightened that dress buckle up too snugly.  How could anyone be so stupid?  Not only that, but what an obvious con, and wouldn’t our “leaders” be watching for that exact sort of behaviour?  Well, I hope the truly spiritual really do win, as those morons could certainly spend a lot of time in some nasty dimension that might cook their underdone brains a little up to normal intelligence.

Kennedy was shot for what they were sure he was about to say, so most Presidents heed that example and watch out for entrenched spooks with guns.  Every conspiracy theory sounds far fetched, but the only one that makes total sense is the CIA stepping in so we wouldn’t share our UFO knowledge with the Russians…which is what Kennedy was purportedly about to do after he released a memo to that effect, telling the director of the CIA to get the files ready.  Ironically, we know about the Kennedy memo, when it was released and all, but there had been no action on it for six months…the CIA basically ignored the orders, and when Kennedy was shot, the memo was thought to have  been erased.  Oh well, someone always keeps a copy of that really incriminating stuff.  This really made future Presidents watch what they said and who they even whispered to.  They couldn’t come out and say much, but they cryptically gave us the verbal clues to know there is a lot going on behind the electoral scene, and that the real power doesn’t exist in the hands of elected legislators, but in the hands of life-time appointees and bureaucrats in the Military, NSA and CIA

The scant information we have claims humanity was able to alter and manipulate the physical world through the power of thought.  Whether that was enough to shape rock or move gigantic boulders like lego, who knows.  It is an interesting suggestion, but one we cannot prove on this level of existence.  The breakthroughs in string theory back up many wild speculations, including the DMT experience and the ability to transcend this dimension, adopt the correct vibration to visit the next, while the DMT expands our consciousness enough to interact with these multi-dimensional beings that have appeared to others and made the same claims.  When we are confronted with advanced UFO’s that are in our world, but then shimmer and pop out of existence, that’s a fairly good indication that they might have left for a different plain of reality.  Again, we can only guess, and it’s only our imagination that allows us to see beyond the rigid confines of textbooks, exact science and dogmatic theology.  The science we are discovering now seems to allow for this sort of phenomenon, yet it is our own minds and preconceptions that trap us here, while the experts quote what is old, told and considered onefold.  We are taught by those unwilling to look outside the box, so how could we ever trust those people to tell us what they truly find, or what may really exist.  There will always be disbelievers, and when looked at in perspective, it was only a few hundred years ago that we had the Spanish Inquisition and were burning witches at the stake.  And, we also thought the world was flat…well, we still have some of those around, but it’s more to be noticed, like some of the UFO abductees that keep elaborating on their story, especially if they get interviewed or get a camera stuck in their face.

The walls of Sacsayhuaman even brought praise from the Spanish conquistadors, brutes who merely saw savagery, and no strategy, yet the construction of these walls baffled them.  What if unknown technology was used, or merely the manipulation of physical forces which we have yet to discover?  Many things were attributed to the power of thought…of mind over matter; what if this were true?  A form of telekinetic force that combined with Earth energies to manipulate the world in ways we find magical, so unscientific and beyond our rigid interpretation of the world.  There is a point where the two combine, as listed in the Vedic literature of India.

But, what if a general knowledge of the physical world/science was behind their works?

Nanotechnology.  Perhaps the “living rock” was grown in place from seed atoms, then trimmed to suit the walls they created.  This would explain the inexplicable marks and exact groves over the construction, and all it takes is to give our ancestors the benefit of the doubt; advanced knowledge that exceeds ours…methods to manipulate the world we have yet to discover.  Many acknowledge this is possible, as the evidence is there, and the justifications our experts give are woefully inadequate.  If, according to written tradition, they had access to “Heavenly technology,” why is it not possible for them to have mastery over elements we have yet to uncover?  We have dark energy and matter, but how many other things might be missing?  Is our periodic table complete?  What subatomic particles have we yet to find?  Questions are what pushes science…and we are a curious race, so why not ask really dumb questions…they might turn out to be really smart.  We would only know when they are asked, and the answers don’t seem to jump up and bite us, or there are no answers that make rational sense.  Ratiocination, examination and a quick close inspection will never discover everything we need to know, or what we don’t need to know, but need to feel.  The spiritual seems to be off limits to science, as religion has made them counter-productive, or at odds with each other.  Why?  Energy is power, and we like power.  History teaches us that.

 

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D. Fitzgerald ©.

 

Everyone hears of a better way, a better life, and a better world; however, that world has become a dream.  Reality is corrupted by violence, painted in gore and hidden by lies.  That better life is a world within ourselves, within our hearts and within our minds.  We all agree, yet fail to be free.  It remains a concept…an idea we cannot share.

The real world is ruthlessly beyond some philosophical notion…it is inundated with images of blood, endless acts of senseless terror, and murder is measured with a daily tally.

Hate is hard to kill…vicious ideas survive, for fighting words needs a universal truth, and that truth depends on what you believe.  As long as angry murderers poison young minds with their invective, that ugly attitude will persist.  Murder begets murder: a vicious cycle.

Reeling from shocking images of death…acts of human anger prove their is no global brotherhood…we are a world adrift in darkness, our existence marred by a religion of revenge…a religion of death.  Perhaps an alien intervention is the only alarm that might show us we are of one race, and therefore of one mind.  Another unrealistic dream…or one that is suppressed and denied, letting the industries of war profit on our dreams.

Instead of peace we see war…instead of kindness, we see malice.  CNN reports what is relevant, and bad men command media attention with acts of brutal insanity; actions that inflict suffering, and kill innocents.  Instead of love, we only see hate…a hate that leaves a vision of bloodshed ripped apart our righteous souls.

Brutal violence becomes a poisonous tonic fed to children…kids that grow with hate and mature among lies.  Blinded and taught murderous passions, they are schooled in death, and taught to destroy.  They are instructed to kill on a massive scale.  No man an island, they scour continents, their souls twisted into murderous machines intent on maximizing their kills.  Extermination becomes their goal, and their minds are manipulated to harbor disgust for non-believers and distaste for mercy.  They never forget and never forgive.  They maim and kill with no regrets…they live to hate and hate to live.

Through hate filled eyes, they hide behind children and wives…with blinded views and lying tongues, they seek to kill and use their young.  Steered and controlled by leaders in loss of life, the fatalities mount as new bombs are found, indoctrinated, and re-programmed. Names are replaced by explosive potential.   Their goal becomes the annihilation of angels.

Bloodshed burns their inner soul, as demolition delights their angry eyes; to kill the blameless, to burn all bystanders, to lay waste to the innocent and free.

The desolation of abomination begets a vivid image…an image that controls minds and forgets the words of God…the will and grace of God.  The world must follow their hearts and fight all brutal bands of bullies; of prime importance, do something to protect the children of the world, for only love can cure hate…only peace can stop war.  Throughout the world, our future will depend on what our children learn: hate falters when fighting love.

Teach a child to love and it will spread; train them to hate and war will remain a way of life. They hear what they are told, and see what they are shown…hence, they will never perceive love, nor will they hear compassion.  Brainwashing, molding, and influencing morality, words and ideas erase a soul…replacing all with aggression and deadly delight.  Only Man can value wickedness…a hate that inflames Earthly passions.  Inversely, only God has the power of His word….words that create moral strength, bestow grace, and allow the righteous to mount up with wings like eagles.

 

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A Drugstore Cowboy – Scams & Stories

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NEW BOOK – Divine Doorways…

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Excerpt Chapter 22

Shit—an approaching siren, wailing off in the east.   I calmly headed west, my lights off.   There was a slim chance the cop would miss our car and go for the plant, letting us vanish into the night. No such luck—slim skipped town. This cop sped by the plant, firmly on our tail.   What the hell—the chase was on: I turned on my lights and booted it, hoping our escape strategy would work.   I felt like smacking Deal for screwing around, but I had freedom on my mind, escape punching the pedal.

Drifting and skidding into the first turn, the wheels bit asphalt, and I smoked down a straightaway. I hoped he wasn’t familiar with this area—our route snaked across two subdivisions, then a park. I saw his lights at the end of the street, bending his Ford interceptor behind us.   He had a high top end: good on long streets, but with tight curves and turns ahead, the Celica should lose him on cornering. I prayed he wasn’t on his radio, getting another cop to intercept or block streets. He didn’t know where we were heading, so that didn’t seem likely…this subdivision had several exits. I could double-back, head east or west, or just keep going and make Finch, a major 4-lane cross-street. The cop would catch up on Finch, but I had a surprise, something that might catch him unawares.

It was soon like the car scene from “Bullit,” an all-out chase…a pursuit of desperation. At least he wasn’t blasting us with a shotgun, but if he had a chance, I’m sure he’d pull his pistol and fire at our tires. We downshifted, bounced over hills, cornered on two wheels, redlined through first, second, and third, grinding the tranny way beyond specs. According to our plan, a few more tight turns would put us on Finch, heading for the second neighborhood—with more sharp turns. Deal kept the drugs securely positioned with his feet…full of pure base, breaking one of these bottles would be a costly mistake, and make this whole roll of the dice turn snake-eyes.

He was still on our ass—I spotted him barely making that last turn, before booting it down an “S” stretch. After more Mad Max evasive driving, sliding the car through turns, tires sizzling while drifting on corners, we reached the first exit.   I punched it on the last street, darting out on Finch, the rear tires smoking as they fought for traction.   The pre-dawn lack of traffic turned the roads into a race course; recklessly popping out on Finch, any traffic would have meant instant accident. After a few blocks on Finch, another turn led to the last subdivision, and then the park.

The plan was to lose him at the park entrance; compared to our sleek machine, his car was too wide to fit between the park’s entrance posts. With so much on the line, I ripped through the gearbox, dumping the clutch on each shift, squeezing the car for all it had—each particle of power, every speck of speed.   This was an early morning Daytona 500…one hell of a jaunt, and definitely one for the books, or morning news.   Such a dangerous chase would be picked up by all the media, extra heat I tried to avoid. Smacking Deal occurred to me again, but I focused on the adrenaline coursing through my veins, and the cop on my six.

We were zooming down Finch, his car headlights glaring in my rearview mirror, slowly inching closer, yowling in pursuit…lights, siren, and attitude howling with rage. I had our pedal to the metal hitting fourth, wringing every bit of speed out of this little baby. Anticipating the upcoming turn, I wanted the cop to overshoot.   Maybe he thought I was trying to outrun him on Finch, a big error in our favor. Just before the turn, I downshifted into first, the engine snarling in protest, slammed on the brakes, and barely made the turn on two wheels.   I caught him off-guard and he overshot the turn. With the engine whining in protest, I raced through the gears, downshifting to brake, always following the route we laid out.  I again reminded Deal to keep the drugs secure…I’d yell at him later for causing this chase, and I didn’t need a broken bottle to boost my anger.

I yanked my hoodie back, giving me better peripheral vision. Glancing at Deal, I saw him braced for dear life, his teeth clenched against the car’s wild maneuvers. With my belts cinched tight, I was Zen-like…one with the car, a firm grip on the wheel. As far as chases go, we were doing well…staying ahead. If the cop judged driving techniques, he’d realize I knew this course, and had prior practice in high speed evasion.

Anticipating tight corners, speeding through long turns, I was like Mario Andretti burning down a speedway. Capture is a great motivator.

Some cops live for this shit, others just get really pissed off…especially when you get away.

Still underneath Deal’s legs, the jugs of pure base were taking the abuse; withstanding the hairpin turns, and catching air after hills. I begrudgingly admired the cop for keeping up, but knew we’d smoke him at the entrance.

The suspension rebounded us everywhere, almost wiping us out after bouncing into a turn. Almost like a race car, the bucket seats helped keep us in place, savouring the thrill after the car stayed on course despite reckless abandonment and insane abuse. I had a picture of it falling apart as soon as we got out…like the scene from Terminator III when Arnold deadpans, “I think we need a new car.”

We clipped a few parked cars after bouncing into a tight turn that was almost a total wipe out. The trunk would be covered in expensive dust if we tossed them in with the tools. Breaking one of these bottles would cost…some of this stuff was worth over a grand a gram…after being cut in half. The Percs were fine; plastic bottles of 1,000 could take any abuse, and acted like a buffer for the glass bottles.

It was a lucky break from Deal’s stupid greed, those Percs were what kept the bottles from breaking.

Despite the carnival zipper-like thrill, this wasn’t a joy ride—we had to ditch this hyped-up Dudley DoRight…his radio would soon have the area plastered in pissed-off cops. High-speed activity like this would earn you one hell of a whooping, plus a shopping list of charges. I counted over a dozen traffic offenses without even considering the criminal charges.   I was not going down for this; I’d rip through backyards if I had to…anything to get away.

After fishtailing down a narrow street, I saw the cop well behind as I slid onto the last street…a dead end except for the park entrance. Even if he was on the radio, there weren’t enough cars around this early to box us in; based on his relentless pursuit, it looked like this Sheriff wanted to run us down himself. Maybe he knew it was a dead end: maybe he could taste victory…but we were heading right through the upcoming barrier, leaving him no choice but to do a U-ee, and race to the park entrance on Sheppard.

The path was just ahead…I slowed down, carefully centering the car. When the front end made it, I dumped the clutch and forced the rest through…after some scraping, screeching, and losing a mirror, I was free.

Shazam—we were now protected by that narrow gate, racing along a gravel path…the cop’s Ford Crown Victoria a foot too wide to fit.

Our escape route paid off, but we still needed to get out of the area—before barricades or road-blocks locked it down. I wondered why he didn’t check the plant; obviously, he was responding to the alarm, but they didn’t really know what was going on, or why we were running. Whatever…we were running from the scene of an alarm, and that was enough to peg us as the reason for the alarm…they must know that plant stored tons of narcotics, and was a prime target for cowboys like us. I could hardly wait to see what we scored.

We were soon engulfed in trees as we booted down the finely-packed path. I flicked on the Brights. I wondered if the cop would ram the solid barrier in frustration or just turn around and use his speed to reach our exit. At this point, we had a huge lead—all he could do was call another car to cover the park entrance. Those steel posts were firmly set in concrete, so ramming them would only batter his car. He’d see the narrow gate and know this route was planned in advance. He’d also realize this was a well-thought out heist, and maybe feel better about losing us.

This and other adventures are in my book, Drugstore Cowboys – Scams and Stories…a wild read…a journey of discovery we all went through, but with varying degrees of passion, and different consequences.

http://www.createspace.com/4848532

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00NZ6MAPY

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Horror…in scope

These days are marked by horror, an evil that springs from a group mind…malice without empathy…a visceral anger that will shatter everything at one point.

We wonder why people are willing to blow themselves up and kill innocent people…I totally disagree with this method, yet I can see what drove them, if you remove the brainwashing and sociopathic training.

Something needs to wake up this thing we’ve created we call society.  It’s broken…the only people that know it’s broken are the ones at the bottom…the ones who suffer the indignity of cleaning it and clamoring for a few dollars…the rest are all nice and happy, retiring on more money than most made during the height of their earning capacity.  If that’s not a good clue that something is wrong, no amount of words will ever change anything, and only dramatic action will receive notice.

The rich are afraid something might mess up their perfect little worlds…they don’t want change…they want to continue to make obscene amounts of money, and to hell with the poor shmucks they’re squeezing for every dime they can.  They are sitting pretty.  The rest of us poor slobs, managing enough for a few slices of bread, we are the ones that need something to change.  Unless we unite, show our overwhelming numbers to the 1% who own and control everything, things will go on as they always have…the rich fuck the little guy, and he’s so sore he can’t fight back.  It’s time to take a stand, pick a side, and pick a fight.  Yeah, lots of suppressed rage here, in case some psychologist or sociologist wants to know…hell, it might affect their $200 an hour rates…

Live well, or die poor; that’s the bottom line, and all it takes to change that is a lot of very angry people uniting and saying they are mad as hell, and they’re not going to take it anymore. I saw that in a movie, and it seemed to work, so why not take a lesson from Hollywood, stand up and be counted on to change the system. Time is not on our side. This whole depression can be seen as another money grab by the weathly…just to justify the mere pittance they shell out to their employees. Suppression is more like it, and it turns to jubilation in the mansions of the oppressors. Think about it, and examine what’s really going on…they control the media, so we can’t listen to what they say…it’s time for word of mouth, and reality.

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I must warn you, this is another do-good point of view on a problem, a sociology 101 textbook phenomenon. Word food for the starving reader. Something for those that care about others, or stuff I shouldn’t bother writing about…the same old lollipop, even coated in fruit-loops, still tastes the same. Whatever, however. But, if you don’t write about these things, they fall by the wayside…like cigarette butts flicked into oblivion by careless smokers…people who think if it’s out of their hands, it’s not their problem anymore…until the nightly news shows a massive forest fire, thousands of loving and friendly trees burnt to death…thanks to the careless butt of some unknown and nameless smoker. Regardless, the eternal question always raises its beaten face…who are you to tell me what to think. Hey, words are harmless, unless they hit home and reveal something you don’t like.

Without pointing fingers, naming names, or tossing blame around, it’s hard to explain or justify Vancouver’s homelessness problem. It’s warmer here…maybe that attracts more street people…but it’s an embarrassment that should be cleaned up. The Main and Hastings intersection is like junction of hopelessness and despair…the epicenter of a blatant drug problem that radiates out into a circle of destitution, misery, and endless torment. Hard done and done hard. A hard life is life that’s hard. Be nice and open your doors. Smile. Let someone camp in your backyard…if you have room. That’s what they did in the old days, but modern life is about property…and my property is private. No entry. Violators will be shot. How humane. One in the head would end a life of misery. Thank you. That sure solved things.

On the street, there is no responsibility, and no one has an easy answer to change this sort of attitude. Police walk by crack smokers and people shooting drugs…they’re like giant cockroaches…infesting every alley in the neighborhood, an infestation beyond extermination. When writing about this problem, caution is in order…you must not offend certain governing or socially interested parties, or they will have your balls for breakfast, and make sure your writing is boycotted, censored and stifled. Not too attractive to a writer…but, w.t.f., I’d like to put the pricks of the world on notice…I really don’t have your best interests at heart…if greed and human nature are to blame, I’m all for roasting the dickheads that perpetuate or profit from this problem…and yes, certain establishments fight over monthly welfare handouts…steady cash, and it adds up…the more bodies you cram in your hovel of a hotel, the richer you are…every month, like clockwork.

Every problem has a cause, then a symptom, and usually has several solutions. Seriously, are all the solutions just crap that backroom municipal mouth movers come up with? Just a lot of endless talk and no real action? Like any social creature, the homeless exist for many reasons…some enjoy kissing responsibility goodbye, thumbing their noses at collectors and banks…some are temporarily caught in unfortunate circumstances, some are medical patients who had the hospital stripped away and are still wondering what happened, some are textbook apathetic gentlemen that tilt at windmills, sell drugs and curse the damn wheel of fortune, while some actually want real homes. The major problem these poor people face are the well off, homesteaded families, groups that put their own interests first, and say to hell with all the lazy, no-good poor people that can’t afford a house. They have stories about hard work, scrimping and saving, doing without, hardship and personal sacrifice…according to them, that’s how they got their million dollar home in Point Gray or North Vancouver. Balderdash, they got help from rich friends or relatives. Uncle Joe’s 3 million estate? Got a loan from a rich family member? Gloating over high paying jobs to cover a high mortgage? Overpaid jobs they got from cronyism, pork-barreling, tutelage, patronage…never from personal merit. Or, get rich the old fashioned way, inherit.

The recent Vancouver blowup over a small, temporary winter shelter demonstrates a significant problem homeless people face…hubris and selfishness…the snobbish “not in my backyard” group. Homeless are considered pariahs, while smarmy, self-righteous, and greedy people only care about themselves. If it’s good for homeowners, they’re all for it…yet, as soon as there’s a tiny problem, some unknown situation they only heard about on the news…they instantly call foul…yelling and screaming about their expensive real estate…how less fortunate people are driving down the price of their property, infringing on their privacy, and disturbing their peace and quiet. Heartless and cruel would be a kind way to describe these people…I’d start wondering what God is going to say when asked about love, charity, and being the good Samaritan? Even ET’s believe in a God, according to reports.

Sorry, no one owns the world, we’re only temporary tenants, and the world is already way over-stocked with crazy people, some that actually run entire countries. Basically, we all have the same dignity and free rights we are told exist – somewhere.

These rights might only be philosophies of the mind, tasty brain food…concepts that exist on intellectual levels, problems that are debated from leather chairs over 18-year old scotch, and are buried in thick, College-only books. In reality, that’s where philosophy is, and they can philosophize about the existential nature of that truth until the cows come home. There’s many voices in the world, and there’s a lot of hoarse throats in Vancouver. Voices that backbite and whine…voices that cry, sob, or beg…pleas and reasons that fall on deaf ears…utterances that are merely whispers…untold realities of life that successful people ignore…these are the voices that matter. Hope slowly disappears through neglect, and the croaking for support eventually fades away, until there’s nothing but a D.O.A. to deal with at the local morgue.

This is when I often wonder…why do people still argue about this, or bother writing about it…political hot potatoes, hey, it’s big at election time…but normally, no one cares or wants to read about it…no one does anything, and people get bored hearing the same old, same-old re-purposed, re-packed social problems over and over. E-gads. Screw it. Live and let live. Vancouver has a large share of the homeless, poor, and addicted…all broken lives that implode nightly on the six o’clock news…yet no one listens, no one wants to interfere with their comfortable lives by feeling remorse…the same story heard everywhere…while these true unfortunates really need our help…genuine assistance that treats the source, not the symptom…help by people that actually care and have the power to help.

No one wants to get involved…watching T.V. is always a more pleasant family-oriented activity. Go downtown with the family and hand out hot soup. Teach the kids the reality of life. Only action groups throw it in society’s face, so when it hits home, people start to feel guilty about the poor, especially around Christmas…this makes them throw some coins in a relief can…or dig around cupboards for expired canned goods…donating this wealth of unwanted over-ripe edible crap to food banks, then feel like they have done their bit to pitch in.

Vancouver…the condo-capital of Canada. People here spend more on parking meters than shelters for the homeless – parking downtown is six bucks an hour, and shelters are merely one-night stopgap fixes that ignore the long term solution of permanent housing. Everyone likes a roof over their head…food in the fridge…money in the bank…high paying, secure jobs…all the stuff so-called normal people take for granted. As long as it’s not in their backyard, they don’t care…and if it is, they just build bigger fences.

Politics aside, action groups only come forward on their own behalf, picking a cause to champion, and something for them to get paid to do…they get the same treatment…asking for government handouts…getting results like unwanted cousins begging for money, and just enough is done to give elected officials something to say when asked what they are doing to solve this blight upon society. These grants are usually eaten up by staff salaries, office space and expenses, and when it comes time to put money in needy hands, there’s barely enough to order a super-sized meal at a burger joint. Their overall attitude was blatantly apparent throughout the 2010 Olympic games…authorities warned our multinational visitors to stay within certain boundaries, and never venture near the social blight at Main and Hastings… Vancouver’s dirty little secret.

Unlike a broken record, I’d like to offer a few observation on Vancouver’s homeless condition. Omitting labels like unfortunate, problematic, or other wordy presentations crammed with fanciful facts that end with a period, it’s time someone looked into the situation and gave an honest report. A truthful analysis that showcases what is really happening, discarding the previous useless and endless government reports full of euphemisms and incredibly self-serving studies. The crap that always makes the Government shine like a white knight…the metaphor that tells of a crazy man…the great Don Quixote tilting at windmills of the mind. Well, go big or stay home…if you have one.

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These words could be classified as opinion to some, a guide by others, or a lifesaver for the few. Many have read and tried the grandiose guarantees from magical success manuals—methods that promise to transform your life for the better. And, it takes a whole book to do so. If so bewitching and poignant, why do people forget the main premise, or overlook that punchy statement that changes everything. The one that offers a better strategy for using your knowledge. For everyone has their own education, a curriculum uniquely their own. Weak in some areas, but expert in others. Does it take a book to point that out to you? If I discovered a simple sentence to re-shape and revitalize my life, I’d memorize it…repeating it again and again, like a mantra to myself.

A single sentence of absolute wisdom, in crystal clarity, would be hard to forget—moreso, if truly wise, and entirely absolute. There are many books focusing on positive thoughts, but few ring and resound throughout a person’s mind. Ultimately, if their life can be turned around by this mystical phrase—they would shout and dance with that phrase falling from thieir lips and cavorting in their hearts. A mighty statement indeed, with the power to erase failure, croon success, and chant victory! What a miraculous string of positive words…or paragraphs. Or perhaps the whole chapter held the key!

People know when suffering depression, or feeling sad and lachrymose, it’s a good idea to get out and see the world: meet new people, talk with old friends, or do something to take your mind off whatever is troubling you. Frequently, it’s because of something nasty or mean someone said or did to discourage you. Don’t let them have any power over you. Thinking with a positive attitude is an accepted strategy for self-help. Natural endorphins can re-charge your inner batteries, stimulate certain areas in your brain, and like the Energizer Bunny, you’re be-bopping around in no time. People only have power over you if you give them permission; deny them that power, and start chasing your dreams. Don’t take anything personal…no one reads your mind, or knows the real you. Off-the-cuff comments are meaningless; like water, let them run off your back. Develop a strong back-bone, and believe in yourself. Nothing people do is because of you—it’s because of them. Never make assumptions; usually, they’re untrue, false, and cannot influence you, unless you give them power. Don’t empower them…ignore them. Only love puts you in a state of bliss; love everything, and nothing can harm you. Happiness is our lost paradise: Moses called it the Promised Land, Buddha called it Nirvana, and Jesus called it Heaven; mystics call it a new dream, or your personal realm of enlightenment. You can choose suffering, or complete happiness. To live in Heaven, or live in Hell. Pick your attitude; believe what you want, and forget what other’s want you to believe. What you truly believe makes you happy and full of joy, so don’t accept what other people think…that’s their problem, not yours.

True hope is a waking dream. Follow your dreams with confidence, in the direction you’ve selected. Live the life that fills your dreams, a life that brings happiness and inner peace. You have every right to dream heroic dreams. We grow great by dreams; notice that all great men are dreamers. Martin Luther had a dream…sadly, it’s still being fought over, but the positive power from his dream reshaped our notions of race and human equality. As wishes inspire dreams, so dreams inspire wishes. What is the difference? A wish is seen as an ethereal action with no substance, yet a dream contains a reality, but a reality that is reshaped into something good.

In dreams, we are true poets, true philanthropists, and full of love and charity; turning that into reality merely takes work, commitment, and determination. Go confidently in the direction of your dream and live the life you’ve imagined. You are the only one who holds you back. Hope is a waking dream, and your reality can be refocused, reshaped, and altered. We have so many great adages that all push us in the direction of that apple in our eye…the apple can be real, and it takes willpower and charisma. Some think they are without these qualities, but we need only believe in ourselves. If courageous enough, our dreams are great enough to change the future. They are goals to reach, milestones to pass; only through truth and effort will them exist. Stare deeply and fearless into that dream, and you will soon be dreaming dreams no mortal ever daring to imagine. There’s nothing like words to move a heart, yet confidence and faith are required to get up and start putting your wishes into reality. We must pursue the ineffable with effort, for from nothing will always come nothing…add action, and the world can be at your doorstep. It’s easy to say, but all we need is true faith and we start marching towards that wonderful horizon we see in our mind’s eye.

Whatever you’ve heard, whatever you’ve been told, there is nothing like the dream to build a new future. We grow through our dreams; what you’ve fantasized about in real life becomes alive in your dreams…everyone has the right to dream heroic thoughts. Follow your dreams, for as you dream, so shall you be. Think big, or stay home. Home is safe, but take fortune by the horns, and boldly take it where you want it to go. Unlike the endless reams of motivational sentences, this is succinct, and to the point. Hold on to your dreams; young or old, always dream, for dreams are what makes life challenging. Without challenge, we fade away, disintegrate, and cease to have a purpose. Hang on to your instincts…chase your natural intuitions and grow, for when you lose the desire to upgrade your outmoded mental software, you’re left in the dust, and sadness takes over.

Pursue your imagination, dream your dreams, as the dreamer, dreaming, dreamt. And forevermore, chart your desires, dream with all your heart, and grasp what you will. A dream is a phantasmagorical image, a picture from your soul, a vision of a future, a daydream of what you want from life. If your reverie stimulates your personal gumption and drive, focuses and orients your mind to the attainable, you search for that dream, with all your heart, all your soul, forever reaching, until you touch the untouchable. A poor man is not without a cent, but without a dream.

Go softly and surely in search of your dreams! Live the life you have imagined. Not the virtual video game version, the real McCoy. If your life is not what you’ve imagined, keep dreaming, keep track, and then walk the path to fulfill your imagination. There’s never been a more rewarding experience. Dream on. Almost sounds like a song…wait, I think it is one…sing it, and sing it with conviction and belief…only you know what you really want, so go out into that big wide world and find your little portion of heaven. Do not be afraid to put your dreams into action…once you’ve passed that hurdle, anything is possible.
thanks,
Fitz…www.saatchionline.com/Artidan, my art gallery, but lacking my newest art,
or newly out, @ artFitz – a new site in progress, as the artfitz name seems to ring…
check out http://www.createspace.com/5025327 – a book on the unknown
or my action and philosophical reality http://www.createspace.com/5080668 – finally edited and on sale.

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