Category Archives: Terrorism

Getting shot by my “Shadow” at four years old, and other times I was shot at

just me 05

Far from four years old in this picture. But even at four years old I was still just a little kid. My “Shadow” was the same age. He wouldn’t become my “Shadow” for another fourteen or more years. But already the “fun” was beginning.

While getting shot at much less actually being shot is never a fun experience, it is surely formative in one’s life, especially if one is young. I recalled events in my own life the other day when I was at the ammo desk in our local Walmart (as there were especially low prices). As the clerk went to the back to the warehoused ammo in back of the store, a family of great grandfather, grandfather, and father with twin four year old daughters stopped to see about getting an extra small .22 rifle for the girls. It was clearly a military / law enforcement family and they wanted to familiarize the little ones early in life with that which they otherwise saw on a daily basis. Whatever one might think about that – and I myself think that four years old is too young to process what this kind of danger is all about – it served to trigger my own memories of being four years old.

I was out at Two Rivers Lake some miles from Saint Anna (of Lake Wobegon fame) with family and friends including the kids of my dad’s friends and associates. One kid my age had a C02 rifle and started shooting at me, utterly unprovoked, for target practice, no one having taught him gun safety. He was about 35 feet away and wasn’t a good shot, but I could hear the ammo flying next to my head. “What are you doing? Don’t you know those could hit me? Stop it!” Just more shots. There was a corn field just ten feet away from me, and it was late Summer, September 4, 1964, Labor Day, so the corn was already tall. I remember everything when I was a kid, provably, back to one year old, but I digress. I’ve written about that before. Anyway…

This was my first time being in full escape mode, my first time chasing through a corn-field. I fully remember learning on the spot in that very instance to strategize escape, running among the stalks with the rows until there was a space through which I could pop over sideways into another row without slowing down, making sure not to move the stalks of corn as that would give away my position, noting that my adversary could not keep up with me and was angry with himself that I had simply disappeared, he not having a clue about how to track his prey (even with my footprints in the soil). That I could play on this lack of his made me laugh, until I noticed that this particular gun was powerful enough to shoot ammo right through the corn. Run!

I can still hear the ammo ripping through the field all around me: shot shot shot shot shot shot shot. Some stopped short because of hitting the stalks. Some flew past me having only hit some leaves. “Tuh-tuh-tuh-tuh-tuh-tuh-tuh-tuh-” Finally: thud… smack in the middle of my forehead, where it stuck, and caused not only a welt and some bleeding, but a bump on my skull and a scar that has lasted to this day. It had to be dug out. “Stop shooting! You hit me!” I said that with a bit of force, enough to scare the kid. I don’t regret that. You gotta do what you gotta do to stop the threat, right? All this – a stategized escape, learning that I could think quickly and calmly under pressure, learning that gun violence can possibly come from emotions with which you can’t reason but which you can possibly control through use of one’s voice and smarts alone, learning to be situationally aware (especially with that kid anywhere near my vicinity), learning that I could be a victim of a crime, learning that I didn’t have to be a victim, learning that being smart is more effective than anything else, learning self-confidence, learning to size up others, and much more – all these were things that I learned at an impressionable age.

That’s the only time I was ever hit by any ammo, well, except by some BBs of a 12 gauge shot gun from some next door neighbors out in the woods from quite a distance, so it was more like getting hit by small pebbles. They had fired perhaps five times, shooting high in the trees but then lowering their aim. No harm done. Whatever. The escape was effected not by running, but simply by walking away quickly. It’s about mind control. Running might have had them shoot directly earlier. That wouldn’t have been good.

I had the same “shoot high” at first but then lower the range thing happen in a coup d’état in Fiji in the year 2000 at the Pacific Regional Seminary. Before the last of the faculty left, leaving me quite alone at the seminary, we had a meeting in a building closest to the parliament where the 21 hostages including the prime minister were being held. Gun fire commenced and one of the faculty members ran outside to see what was going on with the bullets flying through the trees. I ran out to get her to come back inside as she would not listen to reason from us who were remaining inside. I guess she thought she was being brave in seeing what was happening for us. I ran out and put my face in hers, commanding her rather forcefully to go back in. At that point she obeyed. By this time the bullets were no longer high in the trees but were lowering to just above my head, so, everyone else safe, back in I went as well. These were AK 47s. The shots were, I’m sure, just a warning to get out. In short order the rest of the teaching faculty left the country. The Admin and staff and students were long gone. My own bishop left me there. Fine. There were more incidents when I was there alone but there was nothing quite so directed as all that.

I again had the same “shoot high” at first but then lower the range thing happen just some months ago out at the hermitage, when I myself was doing some target practice. My adversary sent half a dozen rifle bullets smashing through branches and into trees just above me. Warning shots. Whatever. My response was not more target practice, but playing Handel’s Messiah on my phone.

Hey! It worked to get rid of the panther going after Laudie-dog a couple of years back at that same place, so why wouldn’t it work with some freaky human guy? Gun fire makes even the insects stop chirping and buzzing. He was close enough to hear the speakers of my little phone in that deathly quiet forest. It worked. Heh heh heh. I’m certain that Handel’s Messiah is not what was expected. Anyone who likes the Hallujah chorus that much can’t be all that bad, right? Or he must be harmlessly crazy, right? It was to laugh. Again, using your brain is always the best strategy. Had I reacted differently, not seeing him but him seeing me, things could have ended very differently very quickly. And he was there for a fight to the death. You don’t shoot at someone so many times in these mountains and not intend to fight to the death. Anyway, I’ve never given it a second thought. I’ve never had a problem since. I’ve probably made him mutter to himself until this very day: “It’s just that he played Handel’s Messiah on his phone… the Hallelujah chorus…” Heh heh heh.

sniper 2

Oh, I just remembered another time I’ve completely forgotten about until now. This was a sniper shot in the Autumn of 1999 over in Rome. I was up on the top floor of where I was staying, about 85 feet up from street level, a recreation room surrounded by picture windows. I was standing at this window with the exit door directly behind me. I loved to stand there and look out over the city of Rome while mulling over a doctoral thesis I was writing at the time on textual criticism of papyri manuscripts. I was getting creeped out by a window on the far side of a little valley in the city, enough to be distracting, and it was unrelenting. Wanting to think of things more academic, I simply turned to leave out the door onto the roof-patio on the far side of the building where I would pace back and forth to think in peace. But just as I turned out the door to the patio, that nano-second, I heard a sharp crash-crack sound and came back to investigate. I saw a small hole in the window where I had been and some bits of glass round about, but figured it was just someone who had thrown a rock up at the building just to do it, and that it was no big deal. Back I went to the patio and pacing oblivious to the world, thinking of manuscript symbols and dates and the “Reformation” and present day Church politics. But the next day and the next I would be back at that window, as was my custom while deep in thought. I let myself be distracted and noticed that a picture on the far wall from the window, just to the side of the door, has been broken by what I didn’t know, perhaps rough-housing while playing ping-pong. But then I looked at the window again. It was double-pane. It was then that I realized this had to have been a bullet. I followed the unmistakable trajectory (lining up the hole in the two panes), and it went directly to the hole in the picture inside the room. With that I followed the trajectory the other way, and that led me to a large-windowed room (one window always open) on a roof of a building (quite exactly the height of the one I was in) which, now using google-maps distance measuring tool, I find was 427 feet away.

sniper 1

I had always gotten a super-creepy feeling from that particular window. Now I knew why. Left-of-bang advice from those experienced in combat is that you should always take note of those super-creepy feelings. Your senses pick up on things that don’t register in your conscience brain except by way of such warnings as they are things so small you would never pay attention to them even if you did outright notice them. Anyway, no harm done. That didn’t stop me from hanging out at that window to check out the skyline of Rome before my usual pacing. I won’t be able to go back to that building if I’m ever in Rome to dig the bullet out of the brick wall since the building was sold some years ago. As I think of this, I have to wonder if this was a self-admitted terrorist from West-Africa whose confidence I had gained by befriending him by telling my always impossible stories. He couldn’t help himself. I’m so evil and bad that I know how to make friends with the most evil and bad people. I just have a knack for it. I’m sure he reflected on this later and knew he had said too much. He indicated the same to me when I had started to press him again for more info a week or so later, though I was being very clever, and he gave me even more info. I guess this was a way to take out a risk to his plans. I let the FBI know, as his plans involved these USA.

Anyway, there were plenty of other times I’ve had plenty of guns trained directly at me, rifles and AKs to pistols – not only in other places around the world but right here in Andrews – but nothing ever came of those incidents, so, whatever. I don’t care.

As long time readers know, I’ve only very recently thought of getting a concealed carry permit, since self-defense is a positive contribution to the virtue of justice and I actually had the possibility, now being Stateside, now having a place to practice, now knowing people who could give me some good advice.

But, just to say, my own personal history in all this has taught me that smarts are by far the best defense anyone can have. Learning to be a good shot is one thing, but learning how to escape or at least deescalate is by far the most important. Being disarming – charming, calm, smart, even using a rather commanding voice depending on circumstances – can actually work to disarm someone. That’s not always the case. But I’m happy to have been in some adverse circumstances, as close to being deadly as you can get, to know the difference, at least somewhat, as all circumstances are unrepeatable.

When all is said and done, the best thing to do is to be good friends with your guardian angel. He sees the face of God.

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Filed under Father Byers Autobiography, Guns, Intelligence Community, Terrorism

I’m hunting the next assassin of GOP members of Congress. Join me.

political assassination

To me, it’s obvious. And I bet he’s already been nailed. Field agents just haven’t collected him, you know, so as to find out more about him and any associates while he thinks he’s free, but ready to move whenever things start to get dangerous, the typical m.o. for dealing with terrorists.

Note that investigators insisted that instantly-killed-Hodgkinson was working alone even after more threats came in. Good obfuscation. He worked alone, but that doesn’t mean he never discussed it with like minded individuals of which there are plenty. Anyway, he was a political hack working for a hack political party.

After Hodgkinson’s death, the prank threats can largely be dismissed, except, in my opinion, for one, in an “email” of all things to Rep. Claudia Tenney, R-N.Y., which proclaimed “one down, 216 to go,” and asked with an incredulous tone: “Did you NOT expect this?” Take note of the rest:

“When you take away ordinary peoples very lives in order to pay off the wealthiest among us, your own lives are forfeit. Certainly, your souls and mortality were lost long before.”

Now, let’s do some commentary:

“When you take away ordinary peoples very lives…” — This “very lives” phraseology is unusual, only showing up in literary communication. Here, “very lives” quantifies and defines the existential meaning of the group one sets apart and identifies with, namely, ordinary people who are oppressed by those who have power to remove that existential meaning. That meaning is not something profound, but rather merely equated with possessed property which can be physically removed “in order to pay off the wealthiest among us,” namely, those who are in cahoots with the person who has such power. This is perhaps the most succinct expression of the foundation for violent dialectical materialism ever penned.

The sentence continues directly to state the violence to come to those in power: “your own lives are forfeit.” The double genitive sets up a contrasting parallel with the lives of the oppressed, whose “very lives” are therefore judged to have been brought to be forfeit by the oppressors. The oppressed are as good as dead in the opinion of the writer, and so have nothing to lose. Any violence from them, particularly him, is to be expected: “Did you NOT expect this?” This is either a professor or an extremely well read life-long student. What brings this home for me is ultra-literary usage of “forfeit.” Examples of common usage are “He forfeited his property,” or “He forfeited his life.” But you just never see the correct usage of someone’s life being forfeit. Never. This is highly refined usage of language. This screams a profile. But we’re only warming up:

“Certainly, your souls and mortality were lost long before.” The usage of “certainly” admits that, in the view of the oppressor, none of what was stated above is at all certain, but that what follows is certain, and to such an extent, that all that which may have been uncertain is no longer so, at least in effect, for their following deaths will prove the point that dialectical materialism (always involving violent death) is equated with might makes right. Violence makes one right. The usage of the phrase “your souls” is purely, oddly in this context, religious. But not so oddly. Those who fancy themselves to be refiners and appliers of ideology struggle more than others with religious realities, their very struggle being a scintillating irony that is impishly recognized and admitted with a gleeful edge of purposed evil. “Your souls” cannot be used by anyone Muslim, by anyone growing up with zero religious affiliation from the beginning. It’s simply very unlikely that this person has ever belonged to a Christian sect as, by and large, none of them have spoken with such language for a good 50 years. I would say that there is some chance that this person was perhaps brought up as an Orthodox Jew, but he is most probably a conservative Catholic in upbringing, but someone who is bitterly rejecting that religious upbringing and, I would say, in favor of an entitlements mentality concerned, however, not with any lust for wealth (as he explicitly states), but rather other lusts which hide behind that facade, you know, those issues which also by and large divide Democrats and Republicans as much as they divide conservative and liberal Catholics. The contrast between “souls and mortality” is poignantly doubly anguished. “Souls” are immortal, while our now mortal coil is not. But he’s already rejected the immortality of the soul by his existential limitation of the meaning of human life in his opening statement. This is a projection of his religious frustration onto the Representative. He wants to kill his frustration and I have no doubt that he will attempt to kill the Representative in order to kill off what he doesn’t like in himself. The irretrievably intended violence of his unrelenting ideology comes through with the incredibly nihilistic statement of “mortality” being “lost”, for “mortality” is already dead, and entitlement to non-dead mortality for whatever number of years before turning to dust is the only thing at stake, though “only” means everything to him. The shallowness of life reduced to intellectual prowess at the service of violence is stunning, frightening. As Aleksandr Isayevich Solzhenitsyn put it in his Gulag Archipelago, the frightening thing is not the pain of any torture and death, but rather looking into the eyes of one’s torturer and seeing no conscience there. The last bit about being “lost long before” refers to all this being unalterable, set in stone. The assassination will happen. There’s nothing that can be done about it.

No one who writes this well, this succinctly, this sharply, this intensely, this singlemindedly, with such self-congratulations, such self-importance, such a Messiah complex can be imitated by anyone else. This is not the author of books so much as articles or political analysis for the far left. He’s surely written articles for publication, either internally as policy for a political party or for academic journals or agitator newsletters/websites. He’s simply too well practiced, too good at it to have never published before. The “email” to the political office of the Representative is, I assume, not an email, but rather a contact form. Nevertheless, everything about the computer including the location is instantly known. It’s probably a computer at a university that is open for use to all students (such as in various libraries or department student areas), or an internet cafe near a university or college. But that’s a clue too, right? Easy peasy. Tracking down this guy takes, what, a morning? I wouldn’t let the thing go too long. Such a person can suddenly slip from sight and carry out their purpose. Some might object that this guy is just blowing off steam after the Hodkinson terrorism, his thunder having been stolen by Hodkinson, he wanting to ride the wake of Hodkinson “fame.” But, instead, this guy actually means what he says. So, there’s a pretty complete profile.

 

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Main State and me: a development :¬)

dc-ticket

This is another one of those boring, kryptic, for-the-record posts only a couple of people understand. There’s a development since my last post of this kind the other day. For some reason late last night I felt an urgent need to try to find out a bit more about my “call this number if you need help” instruction given to me back in 1992 by Main State concerning the kind of help they would provide me into the future as occasioned back in the day by my ever present “Shadow” (who, by the way, is making overtures of friendliness to me all of a sudden).

In trying to find out more about the phone number the other week, there was nothing to be found even with brutal searches, not in the Department of State, not anywhere else. I decided to wait until more info was available before calling the number once again. I had called it when I had visited Main State some seven months ago at the end of 2016. A recording provided yet another name and number to call, which only provided yet another recording and this time an invitation to leave a message. I never got a call back. But the message wasn’t unnoticed.

During that visit to D.C., later that same day, I then continued my quest of visiting the national memorials, putting many miles on foot traipsing back and forth along the National Mall. It was impossible not to notice something out of place in the last 100 yards before finally arriving back to my car along the Potomac. There was another car parked behind mine with a nice, very professional, middle-aged Asian-looking couple inside, the unusual thing being their raucous laughter, the kind that’s a show, difficult to keep going, almost as if they were trying to be noticed. Indeed, they were making a spectacle of themselves as if oblivious to the world around them even while making it clear that they were noticing my arrival with interest. It was so odd that it was enough to put one into left-of-bang mode even though I was sure of their entirely good intentions, making me feel foolish.

As I wrote when it happened, it was then that I noticed, heart sinking, that I had a $250 parking ticket, it being that the handicapped spots in D.C. are not marked with either painted spaces or signs over the spaces as in North Carolina, but only with a sign down the street with a tiny arrow pointing in whatever direction tickets are to be distributed. In trying to pay the ticket online (possible only after about three weeks), I found that someone had arranged for that ticket to be cancelled. The Asian couple immediately came to mind, along with the State Department. But I couldn’t be sure. Until now.

Last night, when I searched again for more info on that phone number mentioned above, a “hit” came up, not only with an entirely different name and an office at the State Department corresponding precisely to my situation in view of my “Shadow,” but even the home address of this person in North West D.C. (a little dangerous for him, thought I, as he would possibly have plenty of disgruntled “clients”). In searching for that info a looked-at-by-almost-nobody in-house recruiting webinar came up. “That’s the guy who was laughing in the car behind mine along the Potomac seven months earlier; 100 percent,” thought I, with myself being the one who was now laughing out loud, “and he’s obviously the one who paid my parking ticket. Same guy. Exactly. Unmistakable. 100 percent.”

I’m guessing that his laughter was about my actually being a priest who has such a “Shadow.” They didn’t introduce themselves to me only because he was apparently fairly new to heading up his office in Main State at the time and it had been almost a 1/4 century since the last time I had contacted Main State, so that they needed to find out for sure who I was after all this time before speaking with me. Just to say, when the FBI had given me a false passport for my own protection without me asking for it twenty years previously, that agent had also laughed at my situation of being priest who has a “Shadow,” he knowing that this was all just too very perfect in favor of my “Shadow,” and he being amazed that I knew anything about the situation in the first place. Like my Asian guy (totally unflappable in the webinar), this FBI agent was otherwise utterly serious, he having been in charge of the investigation of the U.S. Embassy bombings back in the day. I’m amazed that the actual director of that office at Main State came out, and with his wife.

At any rate, this Asian guy seems to be a wonderfully friendly guy, and ultra-super-competent in what he does for international concerns. I’m tempted to make the request I’ve been wanting to make for a long time now. Indeed, at one point in the webinar, he almost seemed to refer to my situation in view of my “Shadow,” the idea being to keep such a “Shadow” illegal in appearance in a foreign country but entirely legal in our own, kind of, perhaps. It’s a kind of make-laws-around-an-existing-situation-to-make-something-else-possible thing. I remember the FBI wanting to keep the status quo of my having a “Shadow” going while merely giving me a false passport of appeasement instead of stopping my “Shadow” from using my identity. After all, he said that as far as they are concerned, my “Shadow” – precisely as a “Shadow” was now a good guy.

In fact, as I read over the 1992 letter of the State Department, it’s clear that they have zero interest in tracking my “Shadow,” but have all the interest in the world in tracking me, and that they have zero interest in helping me secure bank accounts out of reach of my “Shadow.” In fact, they simply assured me that the situation would continue into the future.

All of this explains an “incident” that happened on my return to the parish, after Vienna/Fairfax GMU on 66 West, and precisely at exit 296 of 81 South, the latter exit being a triumph of my little vehicle back in the day. Heh-heh-heh. Anyway, perhaps another trip to D.C. will soon be in order. I’m happy to know a bit more about who I’m dealing with at Main State. As I say, he seems very friendly.

P.S. As it works out, this guy also has pretty much all say about what goes on at the Hague. And that means that I could possibly ask him about a friend, a priest, who someone had attempted to trash there, though he came out shining.

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Assassination of US Congress

Fox: “Scalise endorsed President Trump during last year’s presidential campaign, and has been a vocal backer of Trump’s travel ban. As leader of the powerful study group, he has also spearheaded the effort to repeal and replace ObamaCare.”

Without the quick response of police, “it would have been a slaughter” of house members.

Dem Terrorist: “Are these Republicans or Democrats practicing baseball?”

Answer: “Republicans.”

Dem Terrorist: *** — hail of bullets — ***

Je suis GOP. Je suis USA.

Unity? We have a Constitution and Natural Law.

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This is why KRYPTOS should be easy

brennan gowdy

“I don’t do evidence,” Brennan replied, speaking instead of “intelligence.” Gowdy gets the distinction perfectly. Brennan replied with perfect clarity. Great. Now, if we could only get all the field crowd of the Company to deeply understand that, we would have something. I always fall back on the perfectly logical statement of Donald Rumsfeld:

Reports that say that something hasn’t happened are always interesting to me, because as we know, there are known knowns; there are things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some things we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns – the ones we don’t know we don’t know. And if one looks throughout the history of our country and other free countries, it is the latter category that tend to be the difficult ones.

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Main State’s “Shadow” of mine

money order

This is one of those boring, cryptic, unintelligible “for-the-record” posts, which are as often as not about my “Shadow”. Maybe this is a voluntary offering for a kind of blog subscription, though that’s not requested nor expected in any way on any level from anyone whomsoever. Maybe I shouldn’t be so suspicious and just consider this an offering made in good faith, though, since I’m so evil and bad, I am tempted to think of bribery on his part (for what?) or of my being accused by him of extortion or some sort of blackmail (for what?), all of which would be fictitious on every level, perhaps in order to protect another scenario altogether. Nothing is as it seems in the murky world of shadows. Just for the sake of irony, I think I’ll spend this on ammo to practice up for hostage scenarios. ;-)

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Preparing the shot that can’t be taken: “Terrorism” hits my parish territory

juice bottles

Recently I was at the hermitage for a quiet day, part of which was putting out a few rounds from the Glock into my homemade dot targets. The pattern was about the same as it had been previously at 27 feet, all 15 rounds in the space of the palm of a hand. But this time it is the same number North or South, East or West, which isn’t anything to be proud about, as there should be no directions, just 10-X every time, right? But at least the grip is as it should be with no predominance in any direction.

This was all done with what my practice had morphed into, that is, looking away from the target, spinning about at the screams of some imagined altercation while assessing the situation (type of threat, delivery system of the threat, opportunity), unholstering the gun, shouting some commands drawn from that assessment, drawing the gun up (it already being chambered) and pulling the trigger as soon as the front iron post comes into view IF that’s what the assessment still entails, what with circumstances changing even radically every nanosecond, including what’s next to or behind the target. These were all double taps.

target smiley

But then I added something, just to make the adrenaline flow a bit more freely as it would in the time of some always totally unexpected crisis. In the picture at the top, also 27 feet out, you’ll see two juice bottles side by side on the stump. That represents a hostage situation. When the guys train up for such things, as you can imagine, they are totally disqualified for one stray bullet, as that would defeat the purpose. One just has to be better than that. One has to be the best. I’m far from that. Obviously. But one has to start somewhere. So, up the juice bottles went. The idea is that under pressure at the maximum distance one might expect there to be while still being in the dynamic of such a situation, one hits only the one and not the other, and that the one one is hitting is actually hit. To miss both is just about as bad as hitting the hostage, as you’re not likely going to get a second chance unless the first one hits where it needs to hit. In the meantime, it’s all over for the hostage. Things to practice also include closing the distance if this won’t spook the hostage taker, all the while angling to gain a clear shot and a clear backstop.

The reason to train for such an eventuality that will pretty much never ever arise, it that in training for the more difficult one is training for the less difficult by default.

Any classroom training for such an event consists of 99.99% of the instruction being aimed at why never ever to shoot no matter what in such a situation, which is the same thing that is said also to law enforcement, the SWAT team crowd, et al. But then it is mentioned that it might just be the case that in the it-never-happens-anyway situation, you might just “have to take the shot” regardless of the safety of the actual hostage, though taking every precaution that the hostage not be hurt, which also includes putting oneself at risk. The idea, in that case, is that the perp must be neutralized, even if there are innocent bystanders round about the perp along with the hostage and also in back of the perp in the line of fire. In that case, the situation would be, for instance, that the perp is shooting quickly and with success at many people, killing as many as he can. But that’s the moment you wish you had practiced up for the more difficult case as a way to practice up for that which is easier. You don’t want to miss. You don’t want to have to take more than one shot. Anyway, that never happens. Anyway, I’ll practice for it.

As it is, the local Graham Star newspaper just put out a front page story on a possible budding terrorist in these most remote of back ridges of our national forests. It’s a bit of a joke, but at the same time it’s not. Here’s the evidence of a fevered but not lacking in reason mind of a terrorist:

terrorism bomb making

O.K. He’s an amateur, thinking he’s clever. This was at the dumpster site. This could be an attempt at terrorism, but I really doubt that. I think what’s happening is that a prescription druggie guy rooting around inside the many dumpsters at the site in search of discarded but still potent prescription opioids is sick of competition from other druggie guys rooting around the insides of the dumpsters. So, he’s created some sort of booby-trap meant to take out or at least hurt a fellow dumpster diver.

However, that kind of meanness, paranoid about everyone coming into the dumpster site, thinking that any of them could be there to steal “his” opioids in the dumpsters, might just accost those who are there to recycle and dump their trash: “Gimme your meds, or else!” That kind of thing instantly turns into a hostage situation if the wife is taken and he then notices that the husband is there. Dumpster sites are not lonely sites. They are pretty heavily trafficked. This is actually not an unlikely scenario, especially since the perps will be extra nervous what with talk of upping the penalties for dumpster diving (which usually results in all the contents of all the dumpsters being spread out over the lot so as to more easily comb through the rubbish for the drugs.

And we might be thinking, what a bad guy that terrorist druggie bad guy is. But did not our Lord allow himself to be taken hostage by our sins? Did He not lay down His life for us? Thank you, dear Lord. Thank you for saving us bad guys, us really bad guys.

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Depoliticizing FBI: Field Agents relieved

twa flight 800

Depoliticizing TWA Flight 800 by the FBI would also be a good idea. I tried to make that clear to a handful of FBI agents who took special interest in me very close to the time of the event. That interrogation lasted, if I remember correctly, about twenty minutes. I guess they thought that I was somehow the guy who somehow, in some way was responsible for the missile. 

Anyway, I’ve always held that proof of depoliticization comes about when admission of past failures is made with corrections to procedures made with effective congressional oversight.

Regarding Hillary Clinton’s emails, Trey Gowdy tried his best, but Mr. Comey was, in my opinion, entrenched in “reasoning” lacking any syllogism known to man. Mr. Comey, inaccurate as the day is long, got fired. There was no love lost between him and any of the rank and file in the Bureau. They didn’t know what to do any more, what with Hillary seeming to escape justice not according to the Department of Justice or any judge, but in the opinion (who cares?) of Mr. Jimmy Comey himself.  Trey Gowdy would be a good fit to replace him, as he wouldn’t pull any punches in doing investigations. That’s an FBI I would tend to trust.

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Assassin Game, suicide, the day I drew my gun for real. Solution to insanity.

the deer hunter

I saw this tv news story today about the game Assassin this time played on a defenseless woman being carjacked with a gun who wasn’t part of the game. The game is being played around the country at the moment in high schools, colleges and universities, also and especially off campus. It’s also called Gotcha, Assassins, Killing As Organized Sport, Juggernaut, Battle Royal, Paranoia, Killer, Guru Girl, Spy vs. Spy, Elimination, and Circle of Death. If you ask me, it seems to be a development of the role-playing “game” called Dungeons and Dragons, and came out just in those years that that dark game became popular among the same age groups.

Since it is also played in public, it quickly becomes not so much about any fake assassination, but about playing Russian Roulette as to whether you are going to be killed for threatening what for all intents, purposes and constructions is a murder/carjacking in progress as we see in the video linked at the top. Wikipedia has more about it here.

Just to say, if someone came up to my car smashing my driver side window and waving a gun at me screaming obscenities and threats, it would take me about a nanosecond to pump 16 bullets into him and any threatening accomplices, that is, whatever it would take to make the threat stop. I mean, how stupid and sad is that? It’s purposed suicide. Russian Roulette. I would really hate that. All of it. Terrible.

Just to say, I’ve already been subjected to one carjacking just down the road from my parish while taking a retired cop to the hospital for a surgery appointment. We came to a screeching stop right on the highway (lots of traffic in both directions) and, while the cop yelled at me to say the obvious, that this was a carjacking, I already had my gun drawn and racked when, as otherwise never ever happens, the police came screeching up at that very nanosecond, increasing in number to a total of nine cruisers. As you might imagine, this overwhelming force of the police distracted the perp. Game over. To warrant that kind of manhunt I have to think he was a pretty serious criminal. He’s one lucky perp. But, I mean, when does that ever happen? When are the police there at the very nanosecond you need them? Literally, just one second later could have been life changing for all involved. One. Second.

carjacking-

Carjacking of yours truly attempted right at the “X”. Note the guardrails on both sides. We swerved to the left, slamming on the brakes. Traffic was pretty heavy. Carjackers don’t care.

Anyway, this “game” has been going on in different forms since the early 1980s, but it’s catching steam apparently at this time, and the weapons are not only fake guns, but also bombs which waste the time of law enforcement, the FBI and BATFE. With all the real terrorism and violence on law enforcement that we have, this is all a really bad idea, and it can, in fact, be malicious. It’s a felony to purposely waste the resources of the Feds on idiocy like this. I’m all for people being given time in jail for this kind of stupidity, even pursuing felony charges if the circumstances warrant it, such as with a “fake” car-jacking or a “fake” bomb threat at a public institution. A felony would mean these people would not be allowed to possess a real weapon. Good.

Also, just to say, there are apparently “safe spaces” in this game where assassinations are not allowed. Have we ever heard of “safe spaces” for tender snowflakes before? The tender snowflakes are getting to be accomplished assassins. This kind of game quickly becomes practice for the real thing. It took only days for the tender snowflakes to go from giving a can of Pepsi to someone to throwing full cans of Pepsi at first responders. Right? This is no longer the dreamy 1980s. This is the age of total idiots. I really feel for the woman who was attacked in the video above.

Mass Lourdes Pius X BasilicaThis mentality has come about because people have no identity. For those with no identity, death is as good as life, death is better than life. An Opus Dei bishop was once asked what is to be done with youngsters like this, for those who don’t know where their parish church is, for those who are unchurched. His response was immediate: Celebrate Mass better. Yes, the sacredness, the mysterious otherness of God, the radical profundity of the creature worshiping his Creator, with serious, charitable, joyful people being the ones one meets at Mass. Yes, that will be a draw. Young people who are adrift, anyone adrift for that matter, without an identity, is so very thirsty to find their identity in Christ, to be found by Him. And here’s the deal: Jesus is already working on them. All we have to do is offer a little invitation here and there. What say you?

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Filed under Guns, Road danger, Spiritual life, Terrorism

Belarmine’s six rules for critica textus. “Palimpsests of Kryptos!” she yelped. “Ain’t a hooker,” whispered my Shadow.

analyst

[[[ This is just one of those boring for-the-record posts that make no sense except to one or two readers within electronic range of the bird’s eye above. The rules presented below are a favor to “the hooker” who’s “not a hooker,” but rather an analyst, a recruiter, a watcher, a baiter, a betrayer, analogously “a hooker”, and a very close associate of my “Shadow.” If I were to be terribly cynical, I would just say, “It’s all too easy” and then just leave it go. But that doesn’t do anyone any good. Maybe these rules will help her figure herself out in the proper way, with the Holy Spirit. Right now she’s reading herself into what she’s doing. But that only brings her to herself, and not even that. ]]]

Bellarmine

These are the six rules of Saint Robert Cardinal Bellarmine, S.J., regarding textual critical redaction of the ancient manuscripts of Sacred Scripture many decades after the fourth session of the Council of Trent. The rules are utterly unscientific and self-serving: check out the words in red. Nota bene: the “regia” is the ancient Greek manuscript he and the commission of Cardinals used as a working document for this project, all at the behest of the Supreme Pontiff. The manuscripts he used from the Vatican’s Apostolic Library are duly noted in the registers. Yet, he had more manuscripts available to him than this. Research has become difficult for reasons I cannot share… yet… The politics are… heart-stopping…

•••—•••—•••

1. Quando plura manuscripta antiqua convenient cum vulgata latina: mutetur regia.

1. When many ancient manuscripts agree with the Latin Vulgate: the ‘regia’ is to be changed.

•••—•••—•••

2. Quando omnia manuscripta contra vulgata et contra regia inter se conveniunt: mutetur regia, sed in notationibus ratio reddatur.

2. When all manuscripts against the Vulgate and the ‘regia’ themselves agree: the ‘regia’ is to be changed, but the reason is given in the notations.

•••—•••—•••

3. Quando vulgata non refragatur, et maior pars manusciptorum contraria est regiae; mutetur regia, et reddatur ratio in notationibus.

3. When the Vulgate does not oppose, and a major part of the manuscripts are against the ‘regia’, the ‘regia’ is to be changed, and the reason is given in the notations.

•••—•••—•••

4. Quando manuscriptum unum vel plura concordant cum vulgata, id annotetur in variis lectionibus.

4. When one manuscript or many agree with the Vulgate, it is to be noted with the variant readings.

•••—•••—•••

5. Annotationes fiant ad finem uniuscuiusque capitis.

5. Annotations may be made at the end of each of the chapters.

•••—•••—•••

6. Quando clare apparet, aliqua verba esse addita ex alio evangelista, eorum non habetur ratio: ut v. g. Marci 8, Saturati sunt omnes, illud omnes translatum est ex Matth. 15 in graeco.

6. When it appears clear that other words have been added from another Evangelist, they will not be reckoned: so, e.g., Mark 8, Saturati sunt omnes, that omnes was transferred from Matthew 15 in Greek.

/// These were first published in the most bloody days of World War II in an obscure though official journal and within days of Divino afflante Spiritu, perhaps in mockery of Father Andreas, Bellarmine’s secretary. But such arrogance was without understanding. At any rate, these rules could just as easily have been written by Erasmus or Luther, and were written by them in their spirit. Meanwhile, I had sent in a request to my close friend, the Cardinal Prefect of the Apostolic Library and Archivist of the Holy Roman Church, describing the resulting work. He sent the logistical prefect of the Library at the time on a wild goose chase that would result in a letter describing the results of the search. The ambiguity of that letter was masterful. The search was called off for incredibly specious reasons. I didn’t bring it up for some six months, but then, up in Saint John’s Tower of the Secretariat of State, I did ask his Eminence about this with a rather leading question which provoked a response that, all that time later, was instantly filled with anger yet perfected pleasantness, bitterness yet perfected cold-as-death intense calm. He had been waiting on edge all this time. His answer, given after a hesitation of, say, five full seconds (and that’s not easy) with every word calculated as in an impossible chess game (just nine words), was ferociously ambiguous, using multiple negatives and the passive voice, making the intent unmistakably clear. The tone was that of a challenge, as in “You’ll not succeed (though you just might)” [those not being the words he used]. I have to bide my time on this one. Pretty much everyone is dead who would stop the project. And… and… I know where to look.

At any rate, Bellarmine rejected this relativism of his “rules” at the end of his life and was beatified also because of this rejection of the error of his ways. He had been prostituting himself for decades as a man of consensus with the new Protestants, a kind of self-appointed embodiment of anti-Counter-Reformation. But then, thankfully, he went into full Counter-Reformation mode. It seems that his doing that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I’m not sure of the exact day, but it seems that the day of Bellarmine’s recanting is the day the genocidal thirty years war was to begin raging throughout Europe doing in thirty to fifty percent of the population of Europe. Bellarmine’s influence on the Church and on politics cannot possibly be underestimated.

“That’s stupid, Father Byers: religion has nothing to do with the real world,” say the manipulators of our own day. I have to wonder if analysts today are so humble was Bellarmine as to figure out that they are not as clever as they think they are. I doubt it. They can make the same mistake as Bellarmine, wasting their time, even if they faithfully follow the Treasure Map. They forget the quasi part of quasi per manus, thus rejecting the One who could draw them into the truth (see: A Most Glorious Day), thus prostituting themselves to the praise of others, thinking they are clever by clicking mouse buttons day and night, continuously, scouring, creating an imaginative story line, scouring this web site and that, clicking on dozens and dozens (rarely even some hundreds) of posts morning, noon and night, clicking and clicking, searching and searching (clever searches though) not only my site, but those of my friends. It ain’t gonna help. Reality is more complex and simple, more profound and simple, than any scouring is going to realize. **.***.***.**9. It’s all too easy, too easy to bait, to send her on my own wild goose chases. Actually, the activity from that one computer is a bit creepy.

I shouldn’t be so cynical…     I’ll pray.

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Filed under Adulterous woman, Ecumenism, Father Byers Autobiography, Intelligence Community, Interreligious dialogue, Jewish-Catholic dialogue, Terrorism

Holocaust escape: Today’s yesterday

f 35 israeli air force

There are those who, being in an extermination camp, escaped. Here’s a STORY and a VIDEO about a tunnel for the purpose of survival.

For those who don’t know, I’m Jewish, I’m a Catholic priest, and I have travel protection ordered by the State Department because of certain untoward events in my life that involved the political-military affairs office of Main State at Foggy Bottom.

This story has been published before, but it bears repeating: flying along with an air marshal next to me, as usual, this time from Paris to New York on Air France, mind you, the conversation got onto the holocaust. The Federal law enforcement officer was rather extraordinarily anti-Semitic and anti-Catholic (those being the days of the Obama administration). He said that if Catholics are forced to pay into Obama’s abortion superfund by way of insurance premium on-the-side-direct-payments into that fund, such Catholics who refuse to do such a thing should, if things get ramped up a bit, act like the sheep-led-to-the-slaughter-Jews who simply, he said, submitted so nicely to the extermination camps. I guess he was trying to provoke me to cause a scene. I didn’t take the bait, but… Just. Wow.

Anyway, no, the Jews just couldn’t do anything about it, except here and there. Those who could do something did. They story and video linked to above detail just that. Anyway, the air marshal guy in question doesn’t represent the present administration in the White House. So, whatever with that. But…

A question remains about a preemptive strike against Iranian nuclear weapons production sites made specifically.

  • Is it just bluster that Iran repeats so many times throughout the years that Israel will be wiped off the face of the earth? To answer that the question about Iran being the leading state sponsor of terrorism in the world has to be answered.
  • Are those who say that a preemptive strike will make things really difficult for Israel going forward correct in their assessment? The relevance of the question is only known with the answer to the question as to whether it’s best to be alive and well or instead dead or rotting alive from radiation poisoning. Must one wait to attempt a tunnel escape if one can stop the attack before it happens?

All this should be obvious, but tender snowflakes who claim to be entitled to anything and everything turn out to be the most vicious of genocidal maniacs, saying that Iran has a right to kill off whatever populations on the earth that they want to kill off.

Let’s just repeat: Self-defense and/or defense of the innocent is not a lesser of two evil; it is a contribution to the virtue of justice.

But there are limitations. For instance, it wouldn’t be right to kill untold numbers of civilians in nuclear preemptive strike; conventional weapons can be used. We just witnessed usage of the MOAB, right? You don’t have to use just one…

 

 

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My Shadow is buying himself or…

shadow money order

Sorry, this is just another of those annoying “for the record” posts. Long time readers will remember “my shadow” who stole my identity as early as the mid-late 1970s or early 1980s.

After a break, it’s happened again. Another installment of $100.00. It’s always the same. I declare these on the blog, put them into my checking account, and will include these in my taxes. I take pictures of them with all the numbers so that they can be tracked. It’s his hand-writing. Am I extorting him? Is he bribing me? Is it something more innocent? More nefarious? The only hint is that he said it’s all he can afford right now, meaning that he thinks it warrants a lot more than $100.00 a month on average. I don’t want this, but, hey, I’ll take it.

I did tell him that I wanted to make a deal with him without saying what that was, and without asking, he started sending me $100.00 money orders. But the deal I had to make with him had nothing to with money, but rather with Main State at the Department of State at Foggy Bottom just off the West end of the National Mall. Inasmuch as I don’t understand what’s going on it’s only going to get worse, because I’ll keep pushing until things are clarified. My Shadow is not one for clarifying anything. It might do us both in. But that might be better for the world.

Oh. And just a reminder, as of this writing…

terrorist attacks counter

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I love that bumper sticker @ 72 virgins

72 virgins dating service

This bumper sticker was seen in my driveway the other day, not on the bumper of this friend’s truck, but on the back window of his truck.

I like that Pope Francis doesn’t want us throw around insults just to do it.

But this bumper sticker is merely a rather sharp reprimand of ISIS-minded people who torture and kill people just to it, hoping that they will themselves be “martyred” so that they can go to heaven and have 72 virgins to rape for eternity (since it’s all about women’s rights, right?).

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Forcing Vatican regime changes and…

assange

The rather well connected Thomas D Williams (son in law of an acquaintance of mine) wrote the other day about a conspiracy to force Benedict out and to replace him with someone a bit more malleable[!], hinting at this, among other things, by way of tidbits from Julian Paul Assange’s Wikileaks about John David Podesta, and from hints from Archbishop Luigi Negri, close friend of Pope Benedict XVI: HERE.

edward arsenault

But hey! What do I know? All I know is that the little tidbits that keep coming in are consonant with and answer the most questions about various developments, including the double-murder of Pope Francis’ pregnant “Front of House” “Receptionist” at the time of the gay-marriage referendum in Italy, when enormous pressure was put on the Catholic Hierarchy not to say anything about it, or else. I mean, really, the repeated tantrum like public protestations of the porporati that they didn’t say anything were apoplectic. Some pieces haven’t yet come into the spotlight, and need to be aired. The pressure isn’t just about moral topics and the manipulation of voters’ consciences.

I think I should go have a chat with Julian. I do, after all, have a number of ulterior motives to go to London. The Embassy of Ecuador is just a stroll away from where I would stay, which is just on the other side of Hyde Park (with some 40 volumes of materials to analyse there…), and a bit closer to the American Embassy [!], and a stone’s throw from Tony Blair’s back yard. I’ve been waiting to have a certain chat with Tony since early 2010 about a certain televised debate I would like to set up. He would be the moderator. It’s on a topic he’s spent his retirement facilitating one way or the other. A best friend of mine who is also a best friend of his would boil the billy for the encounter. I don’t think it’s illegal to speak to Assange, or slip a message to him, since he hasn’t been formally charged with anything as far as I know. If you know differently, let me know.

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Filed under Holy See, Intelligence Community, Military, Politics, Pope Benedict XVI, Pope Francis, Terrorism

Father Byers: Thank you Nikki Haley! “USA! USA!” and “US-UN! US-UN!”

All of a sudden America is no longer a puppet for Islam.

I love that. I could have written that speech.

Disclaimers: I’m a Catholic priest, and I’m also Jewish, you know, mom, grandma, great-grand-ma… enough for me to be a Knesset qualified Israeli. I’ve lived in Israel. Been there multiple times. I have friends there. Contacts. Dare I say המוסד has always been really good to me. I think Israel has a right to defend itself, has a right to security, has a right not to be obliterated by Iran or others. Moreover, “Salvation is from the Jews,” said Jesus. And Paul:

They are Israelites; theirs the adoption, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises; theirs the patriarchs, and from them, according to the flesh, is the Messiah. God who is over all be blessed forever. Amen.

Disclaimers: I also deplore unjust actions meant to antagonize, and I saw really a lot of that while living in Israel and spending really a lot of time all over the West Bank, far North to deep South, West to way to the fence on the East. I raised my voice about injustices to the consternation of many others. Economic slavery only brings frustration and anger and… revenge. There are a million little anecdotes that I heard from friends, but those add up to make a culture, a policy. Also, just to say, anecdotally, a Palestinian man saved me from getting shot by wild IDF gun-fire (spraying bullets just to do it, or perhaps a bit directed). Another saved me from abduction. Another very dramatically stopped me from getting killed. Ironically, it was while I was attending a university in the occupied West Bank that I noted just about half of the student body also wanted peace by way justice, so, I’m not alone in that. I would like to see it be easier for priests and nuns to renew their visas so as to work in the clinics and schools and orphanages that no one else takes care of. I condemn what comes down to a forced removal of Catholics from the West Bank to anywhere else in the world, as the former Patriarch had warned was happening in one of his pastoral letters.

Having said all that: Thank you, Nikki Haley. What you said had to be said. Utterly reasonable. Keep up the good work. I had to laugh out loud at your rambunctious and repeated statement: “US-UN”! Hah! That should be a new chant at all South Carolina sporting events along with “USA! USA!” Let’s shout: “US-UN! US-UN!” Hah! What a great day brightener.

img_20170222_073706Totally off topic (and I ask forgiveness in advance… I put these things up for a reason…). After my sacramental visits on my day off yesterday (some hundreds of miles), bringing Holy Communion, Anointing the sick, and other sacraments, I was able to get off a clip or two from the Glock. It’s been a while. This is really the first time that, instead of aiming so much, I was concentrating on the basics (as I’m a complete beginner), so that with now abandoned Israeli-carry, I was practicing drawing from the holster hot. This is what I did with the bottom corner of a moldy folder from the hermitage (which is still there I’m happy to say). That folder was the only target I had to use. I was aiming to the upper right side of that pattern, so I’m still a bit South and to the left. But still pretty good I thought for this activity.

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Filed under Jewish-Catholic dialogue, Military, Politics, Terrorism, המוסד

Spiking terror just down the way

spike

One of our popular walking trails just down the way from the parish, where a bunch of us priests went hiking one beautiful afternoon of the diocesan retreat some time ago, was booby-trapped with many dozens of hidden spikes impaling the feet of hikers. The path was closed and a team of metal detector guys was sent out. As of this writing, about 40 spikes have been found along 18 miles of trails being investigated.

I could understand that some kid getting horrifically smacked down at home might, in a psychotic episode of rebellion, set one or even a few spikes, all in a blur. But not dozens. That demonstrates forethought and a malice that is not in reaction but on the attack. I don’t think it is just some meanie meanie knucklehead. We did have arsonists go out to set the forest this past Summer. But that was easy. You light a match and walk away. But to set spikes to be invisible as in the picture of one of the spikes above takes a huge amount of energy just for one. This is not just a case of the meanie meanies. You prepare these spiked branches beforehand, then make multiple trips on the trail with a few at a time, digging them into the ground and then making the ground look undisturbed. I mean, this is not the work of a druggie on drugs, as the drug effect would wear off long before setting even a small number of the spikes. Moreover, there are so many set so quickly that this is not just one person, but a fairly large group. And to hide something right in front of someone’s eyes takes a great deal of attention to detail that druggies even good moments simply do not have.

Outside of the casinos, the economic salvation of far Western North Carolina is the tremendous natural beauty of these highest of mountains in the eastern United States. Smoky Mountain National Park is the most heavily visited of all National Parks in these United States.

We’ve had an actual terrorist incident at a local high school a while back, where one kid was planning a horrific attack but was discovered before being able to put it into action for ISIS. Even here. Incredible. I guess even we, in the remotest of places, are not so remote that terrorism cannot reach us. But people are in denial. Typical comments are about people just not being nice anymore. “Not nice.”

landmineBut maybe I’m just shell shocked by having been to many violent places right around the world. Maybe I’ve talked with too many people who have suffered the fate of landmines and this triggers a response in me. There are places where there are literally millions of landmines with the local populace still being blown to bits decades after they have been set. It’s not all about mental health or giving people a job they don’t want. Evil is real. Do we want to share the greatest love of our lives, Jesus? Yes. Some people don’t want to know this love. We don’t give up on them, but we do take in the reality of what is happening.

Could this just be a sick kid. Perhaps. At any rate, have situational awareness. I’ve said before that an important method of situational awareness is to calmly note ways of diffusing any possible situation. I would add that another important element of situational awareness is the famous: “If you see something, say something.”

Example: As I recounted in another post, for all I say about situational awareness, I must confess that I was caught totally off guard while sitting in the office of the local law enforcement to have a chat about the executive order on immigration when a guy came in brandishing his weapon in my direction. The unexpected does happen. Did I expect that? No. Did hikers expect spikes? No.

Can you think of an analogy for the spiritual life?

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Terrorizing terrorists: DON’T DO IT!

adoration

Jesus, Terror of Demons: Have mercy on us!

When demonic hatred and lust for demonic power is admitted into the heart of man, creating terrorists where there was none before, there seems to be no possible limit to the lusting hatred that is thought to be absolute power.

One calls to mind the mountains of dismembered bodies of the Sinaloa cartel, the burning, beheading and crucifying of children by ISIS, Hitler, Stalin, Pol Pot and on and on in the entire history of fallen mankind.

The terrorist latches onto a perspective attractive to him, the idea that he is in control on a universal scale, a conceit deceitfully appearing not to be constrained by time. It is eternal. Killing by way of terrorism those who otherwise live forever is a reality which cannot but suck one into this ever so violent self-referential vortex in which one pretends that one is not spinning about, but one is rather orchestrating the surrounding disturbance.

Until the unexpected comes about. One’s bluff is called. The terror of the terrorist in that moment cannot be equaled by all the other moments of terror had by innocent victims of terrorism. When the terrorist is caught out, the jaws of eternal hell yawn open, and the begging begins. When the Suffering Servant said, “Father, into your hands I commend my Spirit!” the demon terrorists cried out in terror…

“NO, DON’T DO IT! Don’t die! Come down from that cross! Don’t actually go ahead and die, calling our bluff! No! That’s not what we wanted! Remaining on the cross you will save them and manifest the Love of God! No! We just wanted to terrorize you into caving in to us! Don’t call us out! Don’t die! Save yourself for this world and save us from eternal hell!”

And He did die, victorious by dying, immediately entering hell to reprimand all the fallen spirits, providing them with irony that would make them writhe in frustration for all eternity. The Son of Man will now rise from the dead. Terror, for the innocent victim, in view of eternity, becomes a blip, a nothing. No power in that terror. Hah!

And then, the terrorist, the Roman Soldier who thrust his sword into the side of Christ Jesus, seeing that this battle was between God and Satan, immediately recognizes that the real terrorist is Satan, that the real Conqueror is Mary’s Divine Son. He, the soldier, the “enemy”, now says: “Truly this was the Son of God.”

“Do not fear those who can kill the body,” says Jesus. “Fear Him who can cast body and soul into hell.” That would be God, for only God is the One who will come to judge the living and the dead and world by fire, judging justly the true terrorists, Satan and those who remain with him, judging with mercy those who come back through redemption and salvation, like the Roman soldier who had been so good at provoking terror becoming the megaphone of believers throughout the ages: “Truly this was the Son of God.”

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Ikhwan الإخوان‎‎‎ (Muslim Brotherhood) – Terrorism in America [[Updated]]

suicide-bomber

Profiling regardless of group? Suicide vest / wired button? Yes to all the above. 18 pounds of explosives. This was a Spring day, which can be brutally hot in Israel. Anything suspicious about his wardrobe choices on a hot day? About his wide, cargo-carrying stance? About his face of despair? About his surroundings? Profiling is sometimes necessary.

Whatever about the al-Aqsa Martyrs’ Brigades and so many others, the day will soon come when also the Muslim Brotherhood is listed by these U.S.A. in the category of terrorist organizations, which is only right, seeing that the “Brotherhood” has done so very much to promote terrorism right around the world and right here in these U.S.A. I can’t wait for the day that the “Brotherhood” is designated a terrorist organization and the day the FBI is mandated to rid these U.S.A. of terrorists and terrorist organizations, that is, even if they plan and promote their attacks inside of mosques and “cultural centers.” In the previous administration, mosques and “cultural centers” were off limits. The only reason I can see that this mandate has not already happened in these first days of the new Administration in D.C. is that blitz arrests are still being organized in view of the present change of perspective. I, for one, am willing to testify against the Muslim Brotherhood, whether in a sworn statement adding to mounting evidence favoring such operations or in court if there is any kind of appeal against an Executive Order that may be granted to the “Brotherhood” by the stacked U.S. Judiciary.

One group publicly offering support for the Muslim Brotherhood publicly told me significantly in late 2010 in Columbus, Ohio, that a Shariah inspired honor-killing of a contemporary convert to Christianity (Fathima Rifqa Bary) was necessary. It’s the same group that said that they are gathering enough individuals to do whatever acts they think are necessary to take over America for Allah so that, when the time comes, they will do it. They could say these things with impunity at the time, under that U.S. Administration. But the time is coming when that impunity will no longer be the case.

In the Free Dictionary we have a succinct paragraph about sedition:

Sedition is the crime of revolting or inciting revolt against government. However, because of the broad protection of free speech under the First Amendment, prosecutions for sedition are rare. Nevertheless, sedition remains a crime in the United States under 18 U.S.C.A. § 2384 (2000), a federal statute that punishes seditious conspiracy, and 18 U.S.C.A. § 2385 (2000), which outlaws advocating the overthrow of the federal government by force. Generally, a person may be punished for sedition only when he or she makes statements that create a Clear and Present Danger to rights that the government may lawfully protect (schenck v. united states, 249 U.S. 47, 39 S. Ct. 247, 63 L. Ed. 470 [1919]).

It seems to me that purposed recruiting of individuals to commit acts that would bring about the overthrow of the government at an unknown time (=any time) is a clear and present danger, especially when public support is made for organizations such as the Muslim Brotherhood. I don’t think one has to wait for any buttons to be pressed. It seems that the fellow in the picture above had a failed suicide-bomb button. Not all of them fail. Enough is enough.

UPDATE: If you read between the lines, you might be able to see that for the time being I’m being extra careful. The reason for this is that the swamp of pro-Islamicist terrorism which exists among our Law Enforcement, Intelligence Communities, and various entities among the Feds needs to be drained. Here’s a deadly example from a friend at JihadWatch.org.

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Joaquin “El Chapo” Guzman, American puppet[?] treated like royalty

el chapo.png

Joaquin “El Chapo” Guzman is in federal lockup, up on the tenth floor of Manhattan’s Metropolitan Correctional Center, second in security only to the ultra-super-max in Colorado. There are more than forty witnesses ready to testify against him. I’d like to add one more name to that list…

From prison, Guzman will continue to head up the world’s largest drug cartel (concentrating on cocaine, heroin and meth), which is, as expected, also by far the most violent. His Sinaloa thugs have killed more than 30,000 people, a third of the more than 100,000 people assassinated in the Mexican drug war. That’s not counting the millions whose lives were destroyed by his drugs right around the world, and millions more for succeeding generations. He is largely responsible for the rampant drug use in these USA, and is indirectly responsible for all the crime and murder and family sorrow related to the presence of drugs. Anyone who has ever helped him now has a debt of honor to work against him…

I would have some questions for our own government about all this, you know, why it seems that he was simply our puppet, someone who would destabilize a neighboring country so that it couldn’t possibly prosper. Remember how he was the hero assisting the U.S. government in the investigation of the assassination of Cardinal Ocampo? Remember how we supplied him weapons? Is he here in the USA because he won’t be able to talk much to the outside world about our partnership with him?

I would have some questions for the Mexican government along these lines, such as why Mexico, which wants to see Guzman convicted and imprisoned about 100,000 times more than these USA… why did they give him up to these USA?

Guzman enjoys 240 square feet of floor space. Multiply that by air space up to the ceiling and that’s 2,400 square feet. That’s one hundred times as much space as American prisoners in, say, the New Hampshire State Prison for Men, where inmates get a total of 24 square feet, that is, a coffin sized bunk two feet high, two feet wide and six feet long. That’s it. These USA treat Guzman like royalty. Why is that?

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Filed under Drugs, Military, Prison, Terrorism

Update: My terrorist friend and the terrorist friend of USMC Secretary of Defense James “Mad Dog” Mattis

26th U.S. Secretary of Defense USMC General James Norman “Mad Dog” Mattis asserts that we can get along with the Islamicist countries at least on some security cooperation by way of the inspiration of the greatness of America, noting that this is a better way to go because, as has been pointed out with the way things stand now (because of the past number of years), Islamists would rather put up with an imperfect government of their own free will than be forced to like America at the end of a USMC bayonet. I agree with all that only because I think the General has enough sense to see that security cooperation as that which needs double and triple checking, something we can actually do. It’s like giving fighter jets to such a country, knowing that Israel and the USA can take out those out-of-date planes in a nano-second. So, nobody is hoodwinking anyone.

If anyone should think that Mattis is crazy for hearing out his engineer-terrorist friend, let me offer my own similar anecdote on my encounter with one of the most deadly terrorists in the history of Israel…

jacobs well

“Hey!” said I to myself in early mid-January 1991, “why not jump on a bus and go deliver some anti-terror gas-masks to the Missionaries of Charity sisters up in Nablus in the West Bank before Saddam Hussein starts lobbing scud missiles on our heads?” So, off I went with the Jerusalem campus of the Pontifical Biblical Institute crowd shouting after me that I was really, really unwise. I knew that anyway, so, O.K.. I think they said something about a possible curfew as well, but, what does “possible” mean except possibly not?

I jumped off the bus on Al-Quds Street pretty far south of the city of Nablus and walked in, trying to get a feel for things, imagining biblical scenes playing out before me. On my way to the sisters, I wanted to stop and have a drink at Jacob’s well, which I did. But, before I got there, a young man I’m guessing twelve years old came up to me and asked me where I was from. As I think back on this, this was pretty brave, as the streets were completely empty. In Israel/Palestine, just because people stay inside, lock their doors and shutter their windows doesn’t mean a curfew, just that they are being careful. The monastery at Jacob’s Well had also been locked up, but the monk-in-charge let me in.

Anyway, when I said America, he got all excited and started telling me in broken English about how much he would like to go to the USA as he had some relatives there. “Great!” said I, and I asked him when he was coming over. His expression went all dark, with eyes glazing over. “I’m not going,” he said to no one in particular, as if he were asserting the fact to a vacuous universe. “But you have relatives there,” said I, encouraging him; “Why don’t you go?” “I would love to go,” he said; “America is a wonderful country. There is freedom.” “Come!” I exclaimed. “There are things I need to do here,” came the answer. He had a look that I would only come to recognize later as “The Look”, the look of terrorist who has been marked for a suicide mission at some point in the future. His mention of “things” he needs to do bothered me enough that I had mentioned it to others back at the Institute.

terrorist suicide bomber

I asked him to direct me to Jacob’s Well. Actually, we were within sight of it and he pointed it out with some anger for how stupid I was for asking him that. Calming down, he said that he had been there himself, outside the door, but had never gone in. The conversation switched to politics, his own poverty, and religion. I was pretty straightforward about my being Catholic. What I noticed in all this was that there was a kind of steel fist gripping his soul, suffocating him, that wouldn’t let him think about the topics he so very much wanted to think about. While “seeing” that fist crushing the life out of him, I saw clearly that he was looking for something from me, from anyone, different from what he had been getting from anyone around him. I hope I gave him something, but, was it enough? Evidently not. Some years ago, when I saw this picture of the young man, I froze, having the strong sensation that this was the fellow with whom I had been speaking in Nablus. If anything, it was a spitting image. I could be wrong, but, wow: it’s him.

This is Saeed Hotari, although the idiot military wing of Hamas, Izzedine al Qassam, who sent him to his death, called him by his father’s name, Hassan Hotari of Qalqiya, which is just a half a day’s walk from Nablus. It seems they had moved to Zarqa on the far side of Amman. He was there at the beginning of the time when Abu Musab al-Zarqawi was there, but then he made his way back into the West Bank. I’m only guessing here, but the bomb Saeed would go on to use was so complex and so powerful that he would have had to have help by the likes of someone like al-Zarqawi. There’s simply no other way.

Saeed was the suicide bomber who had taken so very many lives ten years later, in 2001, in Israel, West of Nablus. Dozens dead, scores and scores injured: the Dolphinarium attack against mostly newly arrived Russian Jewish girls. Again, it’s absolutely a spitting image of him. Ten years had passed since our conversation. He held off for ten years. But in that time, of course, much can happen and much pressure can be applied. He was vulnerable to being misled again by the likes of someone like al-Zarqawi. People do have free will. Hearing what his family had to say, you would think that it was the greatest honor that their son had killed himself and so many innocent people. His own father is perhaps the most guilty.

This is another reason why, I repeat, that I’ve made Islamism a bit of a project in my life. I’m guessing I’m a bit sharper with things now. It’s not a talent you want to have to use, or want to have come by the hard way. But, as the FBI puts it in their training materials, one needs to prepare for “The Coming Storm” (see: Active Shooter: The Coming Storm (FBI: Train now!)). I wish the CIA would put out something similar. We’ll surely be seeing more of this, more of “The Look.”

After drinking water from Jacob’s Well, I found the Missionaries of Charity and had a good time with them. But then I needed to get back to a bus going to Jerusalem. So, off I went, but I was still far from everything on the Northern side of Mount Gerizim when I found myself in the middle of an ambush, with the Israeli Defense Forces shooting in every which direction. The megaphones they used on top of their SUVs commanding this and that echoed from every which way, making it impossible to know which direction it was coming from. It’s seems there was a daytime curfew after all. That’s surely why Saeed ran out to meet me. He figured that anyone disobeying a curfew while carrying a package had to be a fellow terrorist. Anyway, they wanted anyone on the street to make their way down to a certain intersection, but a Palestinian man called me into his house so I could escape the bullets, and then, when all was calm once again, he politely asked me to be on my way. I thanked him for saving my life, risking his own to do it – with me looking much more Jewish than anything like a Muslim – but he just insisted that I now be on my way. Good people are to be found everywhere.

Islam has nothing to offer its adherents except the self-congratulations their submission to Allah brings to themselves, except the misery of oppression that submission to Allah brings. America always looks better, also because – I would say this – because of the circumstances which are brought about by and large by people of faith. That’s very attractive to the dark side. We should encourage that whatever way we can. I agree with Mad Dog Mattis. Yes, I do.

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Filed under Interreligious dialogue, Terrorism