With the news spotlight on the Aurora schitzo shooter, and the Tea Party getting blamed, I’ve a story to tell that you will never hear or read in the lame-brain press.
In 1975, like a schitzo with a mad on, I heard voices. The voices I heard were those of America’s Founding Fathers, when I read the Constitution. Had I not received a bigger than life calling, no telling what I would have done. I was imagining taking a machinegun to the IRS. After thinking long enough, I might have done it, and ended with a big smile on my face to spend the rest of my life in prison.
Operating below the threshold of consciousness, but sufficient to influence the mental processes, one can turn anger into positive action. The story not being told, which results in people like Obama getting elected—and gaining control—it reminds me of Flower Mound, Texas, where I built my home in 1965 on the twenty-five acres I had purchased in this incorporated rural 38 square miles.
I was a middle income independent in the lumber industry. My neighbor to the west was the Skillern family cattle ranch. The Skillerns owed a drugstore chain. My neighbor to my south, the Orand family, oil industry investors, also owned a cattle ranch. A mile to my east was the Marcos ranch. Edward Marcos was the chairman of the board of Neiman Marcos.
The incorporated municipality of Flower Mound had an elected city government. In 1970, my wife became city secretary. Edward Marcos and Associates were planning a New Town for Flower Mound. The New Town concept was aimed at solving several social problems—the elimination of the poor living on “the wrong side of the tracks;” elimination of the “bedroom community” of the metroplex; complete cities with their own commercial and industrial complexes; neighborhoods carefully planned with their own community centers, the idea being to bring together people of all income levels. Edward Marcos invited the city government and spouses to visit with him the New Towns of Columbia, Maryland and Reston, Virginia. They were everything I’ve described and more.
Flower Mound was in corrupt Denton County. Flower Mound’s elected city government was replaced in 1974 by a county appointed government. Flower Mound New Town was shut down. The “old settlers,” supported by the press, considered Flower Mound New Town “city slickers” trying to make a fast buck. Edward Marcos died of a heart attack. In 2012, thanks to the lame-brain press, Flower Mound is a bedroom community of 200,000.
What Denton County did was unconstitutional. I personally took the case to the Texas State Judiciary. I appeared in a hearing in the old Supreme Court room in the state capital building. That was not reported, but I was instrumental in replacing the “good old boy” county attorney with a district attorney in Denton County. Nobody knew why.
In 1975, I departed Flower Mound and established residence in Miami, Florida. My lumber business was on the rocks and my wife was divorcing me. I planned on buying a live-aboard sailboat and sailing the South Atlantic Ocean. Rather than with a machinegun, I had legally attacked the IRS. Everyone who knew me thought I’d lost my mind. They were wrong. I sailed the South Atlantic two years, during which time I experienced miracles, and at the same time beat the IRS at their own game. When confronted with the law, The IRS was like a fish out of water. Nobody knows about that.
So where is Congress? Why is America’s “good old boy” Congress allowing Obama to break the law? Where are America’s judges? The law is nowhere to be seen. The American people have allowed a lawless, renegade government to take control of their lives.
To make a long story short, in the spring of 1982 my bride Karen and I bought a home in West Palm Beach, Florida and lived there until the spring of 1999. During those seventeen years, our home was broken into three times. Everything outside that wasn’t nailed down or locked was stolen. Even our locked bicycles were stolen. They were lifted over a seven foot fence. Our car was stolen. I was mugged in my own front yard in the middle of the afternoon.
The southeast coast of Florida has a large population of retired New York Jews living in tiny condos on their Social Security, a large population of Haitians, Guatemalans, Cubans, and Mexicans, including mafia dons and a large population of lawyers, particularly defense lawyers, who own South Florida’s judges. South Florida is the place to go if you are a criminal or dependent. The southeast coast of Florida is known as the home of “revolving door” justice. Jailed criminals spent one night in jail and are back on the street. What would Florida do if the government did not have the money to hand out to the population of South Florida? I shudder to think.
The majority of the above named vote Democrat. The Democrat could be a brass monkey if it had taxpayer money to hand out. Obama represents all of those criminals and government dependents in the inner city—Obama, the redistribution champion of all times. Where’s the money coming from? Obama is killing the goose that lays golden eggs. Time that we cook Obama’s goose.
Be that as it may, the politicians in South Florida did as I directed them, and the judges. The druggie who mugged me had mugged a woman minutes before. If I had been armed, I would have shot him and saved the taxpayers a bundle, but I’d have been in George Zimmerman’s predicament. Too bad about Zimmerman. For being community minded, Zimmerman is a legal victim.
The woman who was mugged, afraid of reprisal, I was told, refused to press charges. Thanks to my quick action, the mugger got caught. He did not get out of jail. The prosecuting attorney informed the court that I was there to protest. This druggie went to prison. If the woman had pressed charges, he would have been in prison for life as a three time loser.
After leaving South Florida’s crime haven in 1999, having sold our home, my wife Karen and I traveled in our RV two years, landing in Shady Cove, Oregon for six years, and then moving to the tall timber near Mt. Hood.
During the time we lived on wheels, homes skyrocketed in price, the reason being that the politicians made it possible for people to buy a home who could not afford it. Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac made it possible for lenders to package a bundle of loans, many of which were to people who could not afford a home, and lenders knew it. Investors were in the dark. While lenders made a killing, investors got royally taken when the housing bubble burst. Then came the bailout. The taxpayers picked up the tab of the crooks who defrauded investors, who made a killing and were rewarded by your government. It is unspeakable what those people are who claim to represent you.
In any event, one day, after nine years in our RV, Karen said to me, “Joe, I hate to think about living in this RV the rest of my life.”
“Well quit thinking about it,” said I. “You know we can’t afford a home.”
A week later, we received in the mail notice from the Veteran’s Administration that I had been approved for one-hundred percent disability due to my World War II loss of hearing. Those voices of the past have continued taking care of me. In March 2008, we moved into our dream home in the tall timber near Mt. Hood.
In numerology, I’m given the number seven as my Life Lesson Number. “You should learn to spend time by yourself, in the woods or by the seashore, where you can get in touch with your inner self and your deepest thoughts because your destiny is to use your mind.” Numerology and The Divine Triangle.
The Lord helps those who help themselves. Living in the woods, in touch with my inner self, I’ve written In Earth as It Is in Heaven 2012. My life story will soon be available at Amazon.
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