Dear fragile Facebook followers

 

Dear fragile Facebook followers regarding my YOGA...(you should really check out Instagram Yoga it will blow your mind LOL) 

I’m not searching for my worth, I already know my worth. I’m not a sinful worthless wretch deserving of eternal damnation when I die just for being born human. I’m just a woman, no more important than the animals I love so much, and no less than the churchgoers who’ve devoted their lives to their god. But I'm a fighter and a survivor and for that I'm proud. 

I’m also not disrespecting myself for sharing my healthy strong body that I’ve worked hard for at my age when most have let themselves go. I’m celebrating myself. I respect myself for the self discipline and grit that it took! My husband is proud of me and to those who think my goal is to seek out acceptance or reassurance from others don’t know me at all. 

Exhibitionists do it for the reaction not acceptance and reassurance. I was raised by an exhibitionist. So I am what I am and I’ve come to accept myself for who I am. I’m no longer poisoning myself with drugs and alcohol, my mind is alert and clear, and my body is strong. And I love showing it off.

So to all my critics out there who think I’m searching for acceptance, reassurance, and attention. I already accept myself for who I am, my camera reassures me that I look damn good at my age considering the hell I put it through in my younger years, and what the hell is wrong with wanting attention? Isn’t that what everyone on social media is after? LOL! Look at your posts? They may look different than mine but you’re still seeking attention. We’re human, and who wouldn’t feel good for being called sexy at 50 years of age, especially a mother of 3! 

My motto is SOBER IS SEXY so I will continue to endorse sobriety the way our media endorses alcohol. Except I’m not trying to sell a product under a false guise at the expense of your health. I’m just being me and sharing my journey. I get a lot of messages from men who’s wives are alcoholics and they want so bad for them to be free like me. I also get a lot of messages from women AND men who are inspired by me and have started working out and cutting back on the booze. So I choose to focus on that instead of the few negative critics who are either bitter jealous or guilt ridden for their extreme religious views. I really have nothing to say to you other than lighten up and smile. 

THE WOMAN WHO DIDN’T BELIEVE IN LOVE

 

The Man Who Didn't Believe in Love from Miguel Ruiz

Category: Beautiful words

Created: Wednesday, 09 October 2013 10:53

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The Man Who Didn't Believe in Love

 from A Practical Guide to the Art of Relationship - Don Miguel Ruiz (Toltec  Wisdom  Book)

I want to tell you a very old story about the man who didn't believe in love. He was an ordinary man, just like you, but what made this man special was his way of thinking: he thought love wouldn't exist. Of course, he had tried for a long time to find love, he had observed the people around him, much of his life had been spent searching for love, only to find that love didn't exist.

Wherever this man went, he used to tell people that love is nothing but an invention of poets and religion, just to manipulate the weak mind of humans, and to gain control over them. He said that love is nothing for real, and is thus impossible to be found,  even though he might be  looking for it.

This man was highly intelligent and he could talk very convincingly. He read a lot of books, he went to the best universities, and he became a respected scholar. He could speak everywhere, in front of any kind of people, and his logic was very conclusive. What he said was that love is just like a drug; it makes you feel happy, but it creates a strong need. But what happens when you  become highly addicted to love, and you don't receive your daily doses of love?

He used to say that most relationships between lovers are just like a relationship between a drug addict and the one who provides the drugs. The one who has the biggest need is like the drug addict; the one who has a lesser needs is like the provider. This is the one who controls the whole relationship. You can see this dynamic so clearly because usually in every relationship, there is one partner who is very much in love, while the other one is much less. This leads to the latter one taking advantage of the one who gives his or her heart. You can see the way they manipulate each other, through their actions and reactions, just like the provider and the drug addict.

The drug addict, the one who has the biggest need, lives in constant fear that perhaps he will not be able to get the next dosage of love. He/she thinks, "what am I going to do if he/she will leave me?" That fear makes the drug addict very possessive. The addict becomes jealous and demanding. The provider can always control and manipulate the one who is longing for the drug, by administering higher or lower doses, or maybe none at all. The one who has the biggest need completely surrenders and will do whatever he can to avoid being abandoned.

The man of our story went on explaining to everyone why love doesn't exist.

"What humans call `love' is nothing but a relationship based on fear and control. Where is the respect? Where is the love they claim to have? There is no love. Young couples, in front of the representation of God and in front of their families and friends, make a lot of promises to one another: to live together forever, to love and respect each other, to stand in for one another, through good times and bad. They promise to love and honor each other... and make promises and more promises. What is amazing is that they really believe those promises. For some time after marriage, for a few weeks or months , all those promises are kept one by one.

"Then you'll have a war of control, of manipulation, just in order to establish who will be the provider, and who will the addict. A few months later, the respect they swore to have for each other is gone. You can see the resentment, the emotional poison, how they're hurting each other, until they don't know when the love will stop. Nevertheless, they'll stay together because they are afraid to be alone, afraid of the opinion and judgment of others, as well as their own. But where is love?"

That man used to claim that he saw many old couples that had lived together thirty years, forty years, and they were so proud of it. But when they talked about themselves, what they said was, "we have survived  matrimony." That means one of them had surrendered to the other; at a certain time, she gave up and decided to endure the suffering. The one with the strongest will, and a lesser dependency, won the war, but where is that flame they call love? They treat each other like a possession:

"She is mine."

"He is mine."

The man went on and on about all the reasons why he believed love didn't exist, and he told others,

"I have lived through  all that already. I will no longer allow anyone to manipulate my mind, and control my life in the name of love."

His arguments were quite logical, and he convinced many people with all his words: Love doesn't exist.

Then one day this man was walking in a park, he saw on a bench there was a beautiful lady who was crying. He got curious and, sitting besides her, he asked if he could be of any help. You can imagine his surprise when she told him that she was crying because she had just realized that love doesn't exist.

He said, "This is amazing, a woman who believes that love doesn't exist!"

Of course, he wanted to know more about her.

"Why do you say that love doesn't exist?" he asked.

 "Well, it's a long story," she replied.

"I got married when I was very young, with all the love, all those illusions. I believed I would share my life with this man. We swore to each other our loyalty, respect, and honor, and we created a family. But soon everything changed. I was the devoted wife who took care of the children and the home. My husband continued to develop his career. His success and image outside of home were more important to him than our family. He lost respect for me, and I lost respect for him. We hurt each other, and at a certain point I discovered that I didn't love him anymore, and he didn't love me anymore either.

"But the children needed a father, and that was my excuse to stay and to do whatever I could to support him. Now the children are grown and they have left. I no longer have any excuse to stay with him. There's no respect, there's no kindness. I know that even if I find someone else, it's going to be the same, because love doesn't exist. There is no sense to look around for something that doesn't exist, so that’s why I am crying."

The man understood her very well.

He embraced her and said, "You are right; love doesn't exist. We look for love, we open our heart, we become vulnerable, and in the end all we find is selfishness. That hurts us even when we don't think we will be hurt. It doesn't matter how many times we try; it happens again and again. Why even search for love any longer?"

They were so much alike, and they became the best friends ever. It was a wonderful relationship. They respected each other, and they never put each other down. With every step they took together, they were happy. There was no envy or jealousy, there was no control, there was no possessiveness. The relationship kept growing and growing. They loved to be together, because when they were together, they had a lot of fun. When they were not together, they were missing each other.

One day when the man was out of town, he had the weirdest idea.

"Maybe what I feel for her is love.” he thought, “But this is so different from what I have ever felt before. It's not what  poets or religion say it was,  because I am not feeling myself responsible for her. I don't ask  anything of her, I don't want her to take care of me. I will not blame her for difficulties I may encounter, or unload any of my dramas on her, we just have the best of times together, and we enjoy a lot being with each other.

I respect the way she thinks and she never is embarrassing me. I don't feel jealous when she's with other people, I don't feel envy for her success. Perhaps love does exist after all, but it's obviously not what everyone believes love to be."

He could hardly wait to go back home and talk to her, to let her know about his weird idea. As soon as they started talking, she said, "I know exactly what you are talking about. I had the same idea long ago, but I didn't want to share it with you because I know you don't believe in love. Perhaps love does exist, but it isn't what we thought it was."

They decided to become lovers and to live together, and it was amazing that things didn't change. They still respected each other, they were still supportive of each other, and the love grew more and more. Even the simplest things made their hearts sing with love because they were so happy.

The man's heart was so full with all the love he felt that one night a great miracle happened. He was looking at the stars and he found the most beautiful one, and his love was so big that the star started coming down from the sky and soon that star was in his hands. Then a second miracle happened and his soul merged with that star. He was intensely happy, and he could hardly wait to go to the woman and put that star in her hands.

As soon as he did, she felt a moment of doubt: that love was overwhelming. While that thought crossed her mind, the star fell from her hands and broke into millions of small pieces.

Now there is an old man walking around the world, swearing that love doesn't exist. And there is a beautiful old woman at home waiting for a man, shedding tears for a paradise that once she had in her hands, but for one moment of doubt, she had let it go.

This is the story about the man who didn't believe in love.

Who made the mistake? Do you want to guess what went wrong? The mistake was on the man's part in thinking he could give the woman his happiness. The star was his happiness, and his mistake was to put his happiness in her hands. Happiness never comes from outside of us. He was happy because of the love coming out of him; she was happy because of the love coming out of her. But as soon as he made her responsible for his happiness, she broke the star because she could not be responsible for his happiness.

No matter how much the woman loved him, she could never make him happy because she could never know what he had in mind. She could never know what his expectations were, because she could not know his dreams.

If you take your happiness and put it into another person's hands, sooner or later he or she is going to break it. If you pass your happiness on to someone else, it can always be carried away. Happiness can only come from inside of you, and it is the result of your love, and you are responsible for your own happiness. We can never hold anyone responsible for our own happiness, but when we go to the church to get married, the first thing we do is exchange rings. We put our star in each other's hands, expecting that she is going to make you happy, and you are going to make her happy. It doesn't matter how much you love someone, you are never going to be what that person wants you to be.

That is the mistake most of us make right from the beginning. We base our happiness on our partner, and it doesn't work that way. We make all those promises that we cannot keep, and we set ourselves up to fail.

 

In Praise of the Foreskin

Nature's Perfect Turtleneck

Remington Write Sep 28 2 gytk67 — Flickr

For my purposes here, I am not going to address the insane controversy around circumcision. How anyone can think that cutting the genitals of non-consenting children and infants of either sex is in any way a good idea absolutely staggers me. 

Bad idea. Stop doing it. Everyone. Everywhere. Just stop.

What I am going to do is extol the virtues of the foreskin. And they are plentiful.

Unusual for a woman growing up in the US of A in the latter quarter of the 20th century I’ve had several intact lovers, the first when I was in my 20’s. George may have escaped the scalpel because his father was a Greek immigrant. I have a dim recollection of being fascinated, sliding that lovely mobile sleeve of skin up and down the shaft, playing with the folds that hid and protected the silky head of his cock.

Many years and many circumcised penises later I met Martin, an Anglo-Irish man who, due to where and when he was born, got to keep his foreskin. I was delighted. Given I live in New York and Martin lived in Prague, yeah, that one was never going to go very far but it was marvelous while it lasted.

And now my current partner in life, crime, and art is intact. When the nurses at Bellevue Hospital came to take him for the routine circumcision that is still happening in hospitals throughout this country, AleXander’s mother was confused. They weren’t Jewish; why would she want that to be done to her infant son. No, that won’t be necessary. I sure wish I could thank Zenona myself, but she died before I met AleXander. Consider this my general thanks to the cosmos and Zenona wherever she might be within its unknowable vastness.

I always thought there was something wrong with me that I just didn’t care for penetration sex with penises. No matter how juicy I’d get, it was never enough without the contributions of a slippery intact cock. Lube helped but it’s sad but not surprising how few straight men seemed to understand the need for a little help there.

That flexible sleeve of skin glides back and forth, smoothly and without the slightest hint of friction. All that beautiful, slippery, pre-cum and vaginal juice don’t just rub off; they become part of the mechanism that keeps abrasion down for both partners. It’s a design that feels really good to me and to my partner.

See Nature only wants babies and the more we fuck, in theory, the more babies we make. And the better it feels to fuck, the more we fuck. This is all part of her mad, glorious plan for world domination and if it’s working a little too well who are we to argue?

And the joys of fellating an intact penis are also myriad. There’s only so much back and forthing one can do with that poor, tight-skinned cut cock. You can bob up and down, nibble some at the head, swirl it around a bit and then bob some more. But the foreskin offers endless exploration and ways of play. I love to slide my tongue inside the foreskin and circle the head. Because the head of the cock is protected as it’s meant to be by the foreskin, intact penises tend to have silky smooth heads, kind of like a gigantic clitoral head with a corresponding level of sensitivity.

Hand jobs are also a wonder when you can grip that gliding sleeve and pump it back and forth without needing to reach for the lube or spit (which never works that well anyway).

Cutting children’s and infants’ genitals is and always has been a form of sexual control (just check out the good Dr. Kellogg sometime and be sitting down when you do).

Here’s hoping that at some point in your life you, too, get the opportunity to get up close and personal with an intact penis. 

I think you’ll have a really wonderful time.

© Remington Write 2021. All Rights Reserved

I CHOOSE NATURE AND ANIMALS OVER HUMANITY

 

“I have chosen loneliness to defend myself. I protect myself from humanity around me, from this loud and intrusive humanity. I live surrounded by animals, trees, flowers. I have horses, donkeys, rams, goats, pigs, chickens, ducks, geese, pigeons. Then of course dogs and cats. I don't even know how many there are...

I feel much closer to nature and animals than humans. I confess I hate most of the human species. I accepted the cause of animals to finally make sense of my existence here. I'm trying to explain to the man that cruelty inflicted on animals is unworthy, unacceptable, inhumane precisely...

I don't give a damn that the world remembers the divine B. B., that wasn't divine at all.” - Brigitte Bardot

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

“I’m sad that she has to isolate herself in order to protect herself. She is no less beautiful at 86 than she was at 26. The only difference is her sexuality. It is really shitty that the only thing about a woman that seems to have any value is the ability to give a man a hard on. Fuck that! We need to see older, naturally aging women everywhere. When they are bullied in the media, including social media, we need to support these women. Young women need to understand that they are only the beginning of the maiden, mother, crone cycle. Bridget represents the ultimate expression of this because she has now been all 3 aspects of the goddess.“ Anonymous 

The Horror of Trump’s Wounded Knee Tweet

On Sunday, President Donald Trump took aim at one of his favorite targets: Senator Elizabeth Warren, who is hoping to unseat him in 2020. Responding to a video Warren posted on Instagram in which she drinks a beer in her kitchen and introduces her husband, Trump tweeted:

“If Elizabeth Warren, often referred to by me as Pocahontas, did this commercial from Bighorn or Wounded Knee instead of her kitchen, with her husband dressed in full Indian garb, it would have been a smash!”

Trump has long attacked Warren for claiming Cherokee and Delaware ancestry, belittling her as “Pocahontas” and, more recently, challenging her to prove her claims using a DNA test. But his invocation of Wounded Knee—one of the most shameful episodes in U.S. history—is a new low.

On December 29, 1890, the U.S. 7th Cavalry massacred hundreds of Lakota near Wounded Knee Creek in South Dakota. It was hardly the largest settler massacre of Native peoples, but it is the most infamous. To Native peoples it has long been a symbol of U.S. brutality, a reminder of the immorality of a nation that claimed it was bringing civilization but instead brought a slaughter. 

Wounded Knee was the culmination of decades of tension and conflict on the Plains as Native peoples resisted American efforts to expropriate their lands and confine them to reservations. The U.S. government forced unfair treaties on tribal nations, wrenched away their land, failed to live up to its own treaty obligations, and failed to stop settler squatters from invading Native lands. In the late 1880s, a politically potent spiritual movement that Americans called the Ghost Dance grew from the teachings of the Paiute prophet Wovoka and caught fire among the Native peoples of the Plains. As historian Tiffany Hale recounts, it was a complex movement of beliefs and practices offering solace, hope and courage, but American fears fixated on one notion within it: that the proper practice of a prayerful dance would hasten the departure of the whites and the return of lands to Native control and Native ways of life.

The movement spurred American fears of an “Indian uprising,” and in December 1890, President Benjamin Harrison ordered the Army to suppress the Ghost Dance and arrest its leaders. When the U.S. Indian police arrived to arrest the Hunkpapa Lakota holy man Sitting Bull, a Lakota shot a policeman, and the police shot and killed Sitting Bull. Fearing further violence, the Miniconjou Lakota Chief Spotted Elk (also known as Big Foot) decided it was time to move. Under his leadership, a group of Lakota set out across 200 miles of frozen prairie from the Cheyenne River Reservation to the Pine Ridge Reservation. Other Hunkpapa Lakota fleeing the Ghost Dance crackdown joined him and their numbers swelled to around 400 people—mostly women and children. 

Members of the 7th Cavalry intercepted the Lakota refugees on December 28, 1890. Ordering them to make camp at Wounded Knee Creek, Army officials demanded they give up their guns. This made Lakota people, who were hunters, vulnerable to violence and hunger. The next morning, after giving up their rifles, the Lakota were subjected to a destructive search operation. Soldiers scoured the camp for hidden guns, tearing apart the women’s bundles, smashing dishes and seizing knives, awls, tent stakes—anything with a sharp edge. During the search, according to several accounts, a man named Black Coyote either did not understand the order to surrender his rifle (he was deaf and did not speak English) or resisted because it was valuable to him. A scuffle broke out, and someone (it is unclear who) fired a shot. Then, the Americans unleashed their firepower.

The women and children ran, but many were gunned down by bullets and cannon shells fired by U.S. soldiers as they fled. Those who made it past the firing lines could find little shelter in the flat and denuded December prairie, and many were murdered by cavalry troops who hunted them down. While a few Lakota men managed to grab a gun or a knife, they were no match for the Army’s strafing and shelling. The slaughter was relentless. American Horse, an Oglala Lakota who spoke to many survivors of the carnage, reported that as little boys emerged from the ravines, they were immediately surrounded and “butchered.” Powder-burns on the dead made a clear case for atrocity: Only guns held close to the body in point-blank executions leave such marks. Historian Jeffrey Ostler concludes, “By the late afternoon, when the firing finally subsided, between 270 and 300 of the 400 people in Big Foot’s band were dead or mortally wounded. Of these, 170 to 200 were women and children, almost all of whom were slaughtered while fleeing or trying to hide.” At least 20 American soldiers received the Medal of Honor for their part in the massacre. 

Wounded Knee was an atrocity on such a scale that, in a way, it became a symbol for all the other atrocities. It is no coincidence that Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee is one of the most influential popular books on the larger atrocity that isAmerican policy toward Native peoples, or that Wounded Knee, South Dakota, became the site of militant Native resistance in 1973. So when Trump made light of Wounded Knee, he invoked an episode that still remains raw and powerful in Native memory today. 

Not only does his tweet joke about a massacre, his continued taunts reinforce insidious stereotypes about Native peoples, and especially Native women. The popular story of “Pocahontas”—about an Indian maiden in love with a settler man—is itself a Disney fantasy, and one that, as historian Honor Sachs argues, “props up white supremacy.” There’s more. To Trump, real Indians are clearly a defeated remnant of the past, frozen in time at Bighorn and Wounded Knee, wearing “Indian garb.” 

Here’s the thing: In 2019, there are over 570 tribal nations in the United States that are recognized by the federal government, in addition to scores of nations that are recognized by state governments or are seeking recognition. Native Americans are modern people living in urban, suburban, reservation and rural communities. As citizens of sovereign tribal nations, Native peoples have rights and responsibilities that are determined by their nations’ distinct governance practices. Tribal governments, for their part, have laws and policies to address the needs of their citizens: Some nations issue passports for their citizens; they run schools, health care facilities, child welfare offices, libraries and museums. The list goes on and on, undermining antiquated ideas about Native peoples that continue to circulate in pop culture.

While Trump’s tweets rely on stereotypes evoking the Disney character and hypersexualized women dressed up as “Poca-hotties” at Halloween, the reality for modern Native Americans, and for Native women in particular, is different. Earlier this month Indian Country celebrated as Sharice Davids (Ho-Chunk) and Deb Haaland (Pueblo of Laguna) entered the U.S. House of Representatives. At the same time, Native Americans are all too familiar with depressing statistics about Native women who face appalling rates of domestic violence, rape and murder. As Amnesty International reported in its 2007 study Maze of Injustice, Native American and Alaska Native women are 2.5 times more likely to be raped or sexually assaulted than women in the general population in the U.S., and over 34 percent of Native women will be raped in their lifetime. More recently, researchers reported the shocking number of Native women who have disappeared: According to statistics compiled by the Urban Indian Health Institute, 5,712 Native American and Alaska Native women and girls were reported missing in 2016 alone. Native women are also four times more likely than non-Native women to see their children removed from their custody, and Native children are 14 times more likely to be held in state foster care. 

You wouldn’t know about the real-world challenges that Native American women face from listening to Trump—or from listening to Warren for that matter. In response to the racist, misogynistic Pocahontas slur that has been aimed at her since 2012—after the Boston Herald published a story reporting that during the mid-1990s Harvard Law School officials “prominently touted Warren’s Native American background”—Warren has mostly sought to protect her own reputation, insisting on the veracity of her family lore.

The one and only time, to our knowledge, that Warren has admitted how destructive the name-calling is—not just to her, but to Native Americans—was in February 2018 when she made a surprise appearance before Native American-elected officials at the National Congress of American Indians. In her speech, Warren compared the Disney film with the “real” story of Pocahontas and then noted that the story has been “twisted” for political purposes. Recalling a November 2017 White House ceremony honoring World War II Navajo code talkers, Warren reminded listeners that Trump had disrespected war heroes when he mentioned Pocahontas in connection to the senator during the solemn event. This was an important moment—Warren noted the disruptive and disrespectful effect these references have. At the same time, it was frustrating. While Warren acknowledged the violence Pocahontas endured during her short lifetime, and she could recognize the manipulation of a young girl’s experience into a racist joke, she never uttered words suggesting she understands this is a slur that targets Native women. And she has been silent since. 

If Warren really wants to counter Trump and his gleeful invocation of genocidal violence she should denounce the use of Pocahontas as a racist and misogynist slur. She should use her platform to shift the narrative about Native peoples in the United States, pointing to their enduring sovereignty and the imperative that the American government rectify the harm it has done them. She can draw attention to the recently lapsed Violence Against Women Act, redouble efforts to renew this important legislation and advocate for practical solutions to gaps in jurisdiction and funding that will help Native American women and tribal nations pursue justice. It should go without saying she should abandon and apologize for her talk about herundocumented family lore of Indian ancestry, but she has to go beyond that. It’s time Elizabeth Warren uses this as an opportunity to defend Native women, and not just

https://www.politico.com/magazine/story/2019/01/17/the-horror-of-trumps-wounded-knee-tweet-224024

SPIRITUAL SELF RIGHTEOUS ASSHOLES

Spirituality is often associated with a sense of exclusivity. Following spiritual practices and ideas may bring a sense of “specialness,” of having access to esoteric knowledge that most people are not aware of. Of course, this is an unhealthy tendency, and actually contravenes the real aim of spiritual paths and practices, which is to transcend self-centredness and narcissism. However, some people are certainly attracted to spirituality because of this sense of specialness.

This is a large part of the appeal of conspiracy theories, too. They also make people feel special, that they possess secret esoteric knowledge that others are too naive or dim-witted to take on board. In many cases, spiritual conspiracists are simply expressing the same impulse for a sense of superiority and exclusivity in two different areas: spirituality and conspiracy theories.

Second, authoritarian figures like Donald Trump (or in the case of Durckheim, Hitler) may appeal to a devotional, guru-worshipping impulse. I am aware that Trump does not have this effect on all conspiracy theorists, and that some people who believe in the conspiracy of 'the great reset' do not view him in quite so reverential terms. But there is certainly a tendency for some spiritual conspiracists to revere him. This relates to another unhealthy reason why some people are attracted to spirituality, and to gurus (or spiritual teachers) specifically. Although many people devote themselves to gurus to further their own spiritual development, others view gurus as powerful, parent-like figures who can take control of their lives.

As I noted in a previous post, this is due to a desire to return to a childhood state of devotion and irresponsibility, when their parents had complete responsibility for their lives, protected them from the world, and satisfied all their needs. Authoritarian leaders like Trump have a similar paternal, protective appeal. Their authoritarianism is an attractive throwback to parental omnipotence during early childhood, and we instinctively offer them the same unquestioning trust that we did to our parents (which is the same unquestioning trust that many disciples offer their gurus).

NO GOOD DEED GOES UNPUNISHED

 I always hated this saying. Firstly, the things we do create consequences not punishments and rewards. That’s narcissistic mentality. Doing things for rewards or punishments. 

Secondly, if you do a good deed don’t do it for the reward, recognition, love, acceptance, or acknowledgment. Otherwise it’s not a good deed it’s manipulation. Another narcissistic tactic.  

If you want to help someone out do it because you genuinely WANT to. Not for rewards. And if people want nothing to do with you it’s a consequence of your behavior. Not a punishment. Life owes you nothing. 

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN (MAGA)

Why does Q bother me so much? Maybe because it’s main theory is to make America great again. Trump and Trumpanzees chanting MAGA. Since I empathize with the Native Americans I guess I don’t think America was ever great to begin with. White man has done nothing good to the land but destroy it. Leaders only want to build on and trash it. Look around and you’ll see trash littering the roadways and fields, smoke stacks polluting the air, pipelines and oil spills ruining our waters not to mention the animals we put behind bars for our entertainment and food sources. Even our food is poison.

Make american great again would mean to treat it like the
Natives did. I understand, men are conquerors and every tribe since the
beginning of time has been wiped out by the next stronger tribe but
that’s besides the point. If the Natives were dumb uneducated savages
and white man so civilized and mighty and great, then why is our land
in such chaos? From the medical industry to our decline in the family
unit to our leaders and prisons, it’s all just one big failure. And all
I hear is make America great again. Great for whom? 

Not to mention all
the bombing we do to other countries.  How is that helping America? We
are our one and only worst enemy. We are destroying ourselves. And we
want walls put up to keep the enemy out.  What a joke. We’re still
abusing the Natives and their precious land to this day, it’s not in
the past it continues today. So I guess that’s why I get so angry at
the Q movement. They’re nothing but a bunch of ignorant rednecks who
feel entitled to destroy and control others all in the name of god and
country. Just like America got started. Destroy a people, shove our
religion and culture down their throats, and destroy their land to
fill their greedy pockets while claiming they are the greatest country
and race on earth. They even celebrate cutting off half of our men’s
penises at birth destroying the greatest connection between man and
woman all in the name of medicine. Please, pass me the puke bucket..

https://youtu.be/KLODGhEyLvk

Boarderwall

NEW WORLD ORDER

Written by Yukon Jack

“”Once upon a time, a long time ago in a slave Midwestern state, a young man who was to become Yukon Jack the writer was having a magical boyhood in the woods observing Nature while trying to escape the religious indoctrination.  I was born into a sexually repressed and very deeply emotionally depressed Christian society and I didn’t like it one bit and I found my escape by getting away from my family and being alone in the woods.

Nature was my refuge from the madness of modern society and its slave indoctrination centers called churches and obedience centers called schools.  I wanted nothing with neither, don’t get me wrong, I love to study and read, but I didn’t like adults lying to me about God and history.  It was only a matter of time before I and many others were singing along silently with the hit Pink Floyd tune Another Brick in the Wall:

We don’t need no education
We dont need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the classroom
Teachers leave them kids alone
Hey! Teachers! Leave them kids alone!
All in all it’s just another brick in the wall.
All in all you’re just another brick in the wall.

My teachers recognized my resistance and often made examples of me, embarrassing and humiliating me in front of the rest of the class.  I took the abuse nobly.  You really have to be an arrogant asshole to do what every teacher does in America, stand up in front of bunch of innocent children and lie your ass off just to get a paycheck.  Most teachers are pathetic cowards, spineless bricks in the church-state wall of evil.

I can still vaguely remember when one lay teacher teaching catechism, a stern yet nice older woman looked directly into my eyes one morning and said to the class and to me, “You really don’t believe what I am saying do you?”.  I didn’t answer out of pure fear, there was no way I could challenge the entire doctrine of what was being offered, I just stared blankly back at her incredulity as if looking at a nondescript ancient brick wall that needed to be torn down.

I can remember my entire life as internal rebellion against all that was being imposed on my impressionable mind, especially by the religion of my parents.  What I wanted and what they were saying went against my desires, my very being was trying to flee their self imposed imprisonment.  I didn’t know it at the time, but now after decades of soul searching and writing I can now articulate the situation, I wanted to live and they were already dead and awaiting termination.

Christians are part of a huge world wide Jewish death cult, they are real life Zombies whose brains are infected with death cult memes.  Religions are memetic viruses being passed from generation to generation, they are not truth about god or our life-death situation, they are simply memeplexes that gained dominance by rules of Natural Selection.  Memes follow the same rules as genes, they have to survive, thus religious memes that survive are aggressive and dominant regardless of what they are doing to the human host.

The incredible popularity of Pink Floyd’s number one album of all time The Dark Side of the Moon, meant that I wasn’t the only one, and I hope my essays appeal to those that also want to live, to really live life outside of the repressive Judeo-Christian culture of endless warmongering.  I am sick of Christianity and the Amerikan nation it built, a disgusting nation of cowardly Judeo-Christian retards now celebrating the American Sniper movie rationalizing the mass murdering actions of it’s Christianized soldiers.

During my upbringing, I didn’t feel very connected to my own family – religious indoctrination can do that, those that were buying the religious memes felt alien to someone outside that mental structure, by letting the Christian program into their souls, were becoming intolerable to my very being.  As a result I became alienated from my own family, I was having nothing to do with the Jew religion of Christianity, its self sacrifices, it’s end of life survive death wish.  I couldn’t understand why anyone even cared, who cares about old age or dying?  I wanted to live now, those concerns of what happened after death were not part of my reality.

I had no idea at the time what was really going on, that humans were just the first earth specie gaining self awareness from an evolving big brain.  They were waking up in the matrix, they were scared out of their wits, afraid of starving, afraid of not having enough.  Religion gave them the answers, religion tamed the terrified mind.  Americans, who had more than any other nation in history were the most scared, so repressed and frightened as to put up with the completely contrived Vietnam War, killing without conscience.

The Vietnam quagmire was a perfect reflection of middle America, bound to duty and to death cult memes, “God and Country” as they say, Americans suffered their own internal cultural insanity.  After all it wasn’t Hindus sending their children overseas to kill some fourth world rice patty dwellers – it was first world Judeo-Christian Yahweh indoctrinated war mongers doing, waving the flag and clutching their Holy Bibles and perfectly willing to kill the incredibly gentle and beautiful Vietnamese people.

Americans can not believe they are the monsters tearing up the world for their Jewish masters, this is due to the myth they whole heartedly subscribe.  Western peoples can not see the monster within, that monster is the the Jewish written Holy Bible indoctrination, the upload of the evil memes that turns a normal loving and joyful human into a Talmudic directed psychopathic killer.  Yahweh kills and to be a man, to be right with god, so must you kill for the Jew.  This Jewish Bible hatred for the other drives American wars, witness the popularity of psycho Christian indoctrinated sniper Chris Kyle.

Not I, I wasn’t fooled by any of it.  I knew it was wrong, I could feel it was wrong.  That is what separated me from them, those internal soul feelings were more dominant in my being than theirs, I did not let fear rule, I did not believe in a fear based myth, I did not feel that I needed to be saved.  So my other favorite song in those unbearable teen years was Baba O’Riley by The Who with the infamous lyric “I don’t need to be forgiven..”

This idea that I was somehow born guilty and owed my life to God, or that I owed a corrupt government taxes or war service didn’t resonate with me.  I didn’t owe anyone anything and all these adults who thought this were already dead.  Teachers and preachers are real life Zombies, dead people that want to eat your brains, infecting others with their memetic viruses, getting others diseased to do the dirty work of the Jew.

We are free beings on an lovely planet infested by superstitious Bible carrying primates who are to timid to confront their own fears and are willing to bomb whole nations into ruin before they self examine the bullshit Bible memes running on their brain hard drive.  The God of the Jews is a big mother fucking lie and Christians need to get over it and see the Jewish shitheads starting WW3.  No god tells you to kill the other.  The Jew simply invented a god to motivate you to do his dirty work.  God is a meme, he only exists in a book and in your mind, and once this virus is uploaded, the infected becomes the tool of the Jew.

What took my entire life to realize is that Christianity is an insane Jewish death cult.  There is no angry god, there is no afterlife punishment, no god is going to judge us, no loving god is even capable of judgment.  Humans judge, not god.  Those in the flesh judge, those in spirit can not judge. Judgment is associated with competition for food and survival in the material realm, judgment has no role in the realm of spirit.  All those who go to the other side tell us that is the way it is and that can also be logically deduced.

Since there is no judgment except from us (and no afterlife judgment except the one we imagine in the next life), we are obviously projecting our own limitations into that realm, thus we don’t need to be saved by Jesus or anyone else. We only need to be saved from Jewish literature.  We need to be saved from the bad thinking of Mr. Jew.  In fact our salvation comes when we as a specie wake up from history but first we must realize that believing in a judging god is making our collective ego god.

So while the whole world is completely mad and going to hell in a hand basket, you won’t see me holding hands with the Gentile slave singing praises to Israel or Yahweh, you will never see me at a Christian wedding or saying dinner prayers to the father god, it is all an insane lies of power mad theists who made you feel guilty for being alive.  The judging Jewish ego is not my god, the Jew is not my god, the Jew is the evil consuming the world and salvation is realizing that the Jew is Satan.

I want nothing to do with Christian Amerika.  I will be running from you Christians in the glorious healthy body that Nature created, without shoes I will be running down that pristine redwood leafed trail back to the godhead, away from you.  Like a deer I will run from the madness of this world and the myth that bonds you to the Jewish warmongering civilization that never satiates it’s bloodlust.  Have fun in your upcoming wars, have fun acting out your Bible memes, have fun killing for Yahweh, have fun taking your soul to hell for the ego of Mr. Jew.

So what I see coming this year is nuclear war with Russia.  This insane culture not satisfied with the Jewish bloodlust of wrecking so many Middle Eastern states, is not completely out of it’s mind arming the Kiev Junta, the Jew installed government attacking it’s own citizens exactly like the Israelis attacking the people of Gaza.  They are now shelling civilian areas just like Israel does.  Mother fucking Jews are starting WW3.  Are your ready for the fallout?"
Written by Yukon Jack~