One hundred fourteen hours after the power here was knocked out by the storm, a tray with warm potatoes and carrots arrived; the first food we'd received with any substantial nutrients in it; at breakfast there were grits, some egg substitute and pseudo-link sausage; I managed three cups of decaf.
The sudden, but long-awaited influx of vitamins, minerals and now caffeine have jogged my writer's memory and kick-started the quill-hand. Referring to an outline, on the cardboard backing of my yellow tablet, shows that Chapter Six was to detail the 'spirits' involved in the story about Daddy's cousin Bob.
Those 'missionaries' working behind what would soon be known as the Iron Curtain must have provoked the spirits of unknown millions when they moved those genealogies from their hiding place.The focus of that powerful 'psychic energy' soon settled geographically upon the stewards of the deep limestone caves outside Salt Lake City.
On a much more contained scale, my own examination of the genealogical records being kept had 'disturbed' a 'string' of related familial spirits. My Father's psychic influence, magnified by his physical departure in JAN 1987, was urging my consciousness along this path. He'd left his only son with so many questions; his body had been cremated and his Masonic 'doeskin' mysteriously passed down with a collection of electrician's tools.
Once all the pertinent paperwork had been properly filed in SLC, the psychic disturbance around the son hit a new, much higher 'gear.' A reliable source for processed data, that we sometimes refer to as 'ideas,' had been 'forged,' that would neither break nor bend. As the Master had begun teaching(MATT 4:17), the son soon developed an awareness of the spirits surrounding him.
A sort of 'peak' was reached, on NOV 1, 2012; the son was sitting just down the hill from those tennis courts; courts where, as a vigorous young man, his Daddy had hit a few with Bitsy Grant, on some of the City's finest clay. The spirit[s] 'spoke,' "Albany." He practically ran to catch the last bus; at seven AM, on NOV second, he was in Albany. No need for him to process what was already processed data.
On MAR 3, 2015(approx. two years will have passed), his brain having been 'baked' long enough in the 'Good Life City,' this faithful son stood before Ms. Patricia King, in the Broad Street branch of SunTrust Bank, and was 'given' these words to speak:"Well, if that's the way things stand, then, for the next seven to ten days, I will do everything in my power, to see that this building burns to the ground."
All the players in the bank at this time had been waiting for that speech; a speech that I am certain was being recorded. Trish let off the most pitiful, and sadly unrehearsed, little high-pitched 'scream' of pseudo-terror; that was the 'cue,' upon which two, of the three armed police officers(already present in the bank, before the son was ushered into Trish's office) entered the cramped office, to subdue the 'suspect.'
He would repeat, verbatim, these same, calmly-expressed words, for the compact tape recorder, that the police investigator had used to create an accurate record, when the suspect had offered to make a statement, without the presence of legal counsel. Approximately one hundred and twenty days later, this faithful son would learn of his indictment, by the Grand Jury(in its MAY term), on a charge of Terroristic Threats and Acts; would learn of the perjured testimony, furnished for the jurors by Albany Police Department 'prosecutor,' which indicated the perpetrator's desire to unleash a fiery conflagration, while all the people present were trapped inside; would read this scary terroristic threat made against so many innocent people, in very intimidating CAPITAL LETTERS, screaming from the page mailed to him, at D-315 in the DCJF.
Is all this 'special treatment' really standard procedure in 'Dirty County,' or is there some way to make more sense of what has been happening to this detainee? The rapid approach of the second anniversary, taken together with recent developments in 15R360, which certainly indicate a change in direction for prosecutorial strategies, reinforce the son's observations of two-year cycles prevalent in these spirit-directed 'campaigns.'
What might the spirits desire in Albany? What might the son be given to say to mental health professionals that could effect any desired changes in the personnel involved, or in their actions? Why has "DC" so recently obtained a signed affidavit, from a witness to the conversion of deliveries of fresh meats to the DCJF, by Major Haggerty and Rick Haines, to their exclusive benefit? Can this stuff reach as high as the TRUMP White House?
My connection to the spirits has always been a profound one; to my Father, a 'lucky man;' to his Father, who 'skated' through the Great Depression with my Father in tow; and, I'm sure, to Peter DeNise(my Greatgrandfather), who'd brought his many children south, to Atlanta. The strand, that is this blessed family, stretches back to Revolutionary soldiers fighting for freedom from their Colonial oppressors, back to the early settlement of New Amsterdam, by refugees from French Catholic persecutor's bloody onslaughts against my early Protestant ancestors.
There is an important struggle going on; there is a role in that conflict which can be freely chosen by any individual; but when one's immediate ancestors have chosen to be active participants, one finds that certain paths have already been prepared for them. When we choose such a 'prepared' road to travel on, the acts he or she will be called upon to carry out, sort of come naturally, and the blessings poured out 'from above,' are often more than one has time to collect!
There is a 'hedge of protection' being provided by these powerful spirits, which can(often does) confound even the most powerful(politically & financially) adversaries, as they go about their business of 'working your destruction.' If you can ditch the hatred your 'natural man' hatches for these powerful enemies, you can better 'see' the difficulties they are having when dealing with you, and enhance your 'invisibility,' as you approach to the most dangerous and effective proximity.
Most of all, there is this outpouring of ideas, to be used in critical 'decision-making,' which will keep you on your pathway-of-invulnerability, while your adversaries grow weak enough for their inevitable destruction.
My life has been marked by these battles, fought against indignities and unrighteous dominations. At age six, I'd been called into Principal Bell's office for playing cards on the playground. My young friend and I were suspected of having been gambling; Bell's attitude towards playing cards, perhaps an affect of his 'churchedness,' was perceived as an attack on 'me Sainted parents(card games a treasured family activity).' I refused to be convicted of having done anything to be considered wrong; fought this adult authority-figure like a lion!
When I was eighteen, I invited Mr. Bell and my favorite (6th Grade)teacher, to attend the Star Student banquet, held at the Dinkler Plaza Hotel downtown, as my special guests; it was the year Mr. Bell retired from Public Education.
When I was twenty-one, I filed with the NLRB, a charge of 'unfair labor practices' against my labor union's officials. Then, in 1972, it turned out that I was the only local stage employee 'qualified' to travel around the US with a national dance company. The Union and I were mutually agreeable to 'being shut of' one another for awhile!
In nineteen eighty-four, I was the picket-line captain on the entrance gate for the Georgia World Congress Center, determined by the NLRB to be the only authorized site there, for my Union's legally-sanctioned peaceful demonstration. Without receiving any pay at all, I walked that picket-line twelve hours a day, seven days a week, for months on end, while listening to members complain about four-hour 'tours' they walked every other day. I was the only one to show up there the morning it was seven degrees below zero. I was the only one walking out there, with a sign in my hand, when Michael Jackson brought his Tour to Fulton County Stadium. Eventually I was FIRED; I'd done the job too well!
On nine/eleven(2001), at nine AM, I began a campaign against the Trustees and Administrators of my one hundred and thirty million dollar Pension Fund; it was in 2006, after the OIG had resolved the program fraud-issues, when this privately-funded defined benefit plan was terminated(over three thousand employees were affected). My sworn enemies in that campaign dubbed me 'Chicken Little;' there were a lot of people in Las Vegas who wished that they had been listening, when the sky actually fell.
The OIG will be very interested in DCJF and Dougherty County(and the City of Albany), when I present them with the detail-worker's affidavit. The financial rewards stemming from a RICO prosecution, of every person guilty of program fraud, during the twenty plus years that the organized criminal activity has been going on down here, will virtually guarantee an exhaustive federal investigation, and a mammoth list of defendants brought to trial.
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Was Oedipus, the parricide who sired children by his mother, a product of the subconscious mind as Freud thought? Was he a mythological figure? Or was he a real, historical person?
Such questions have provoked interest among historians and authors for centuries. In Oedipus and Akhnaton, Immanuel Velikovsky identifies the scene and all the personages of the Greek Oedipus legend with the life patterns of the family of the Egyptian King Akhnaton, reputedly the first monotheist during the most famous period of Egyptian history.
As a feat in unraveling myth, lore, and fact, Immanuel Velikovsky's startling new approach can be likened to the evidence of Schliemann's discovery of Troy, of the discovery of the Minoan civilization, or of the deciphering of Mycenaean.
The legend of the Oedipus cycle, in which Dr. Velikovsky finds a parallel to the House of Akhnaton, involves the family of Oedipus, King of Thebes -- his blinding and exile, his curse on his sons who subsequently slew each other at the gates of Thebes, and the courage of his daughter, Antigone, who entombed her fallen brother despite contrary official decree and was herself immured in a pit-tomb as punishment. The tale, filled with unsurpassed suspense, becomes even more compelling as it is related to historical fact.
Dr. Velikovsky uncovers and examines the parallels between the myth and the fact; he solves a number of mysteries concerning the tombs in the Valley of Kings, Tutankhamen's famed burial ground, which have long puzzled archaeologists; and he brings vividly to life all the figures of both ancient tragedies.
This thoroughgoing analysis, as the author's far-ranging mind makes clear, has much more than archaeological implications, for it illuminates the nature of classical tragedy and has bearing on Freud's own unresolved conflicts. It presents, in fact, a rewriting of ancient history at exactly its most renowned period. Oedipus and Akhnaton is an extraordinary literary and historical study.
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I want to know what drug you can take that makes it possible to scribble down every single burp of your cerebral cortex.
But Christ, Phil, I've got to tell you that I'm at least partly in awe. It's pretty obvious that some of your shtick eventually got stuck that way, but pulling off those mannerisms can't be easy; we're talking a certain degree of brass balls. On one hand, putting your full name, SSN, and bank account number on a public blog might be considered foolhardy -- but on the other hand, you've turned your whole freakin' life into a public art project, and I'm not joking at all when I say I've got a kind of grudging respect for that.