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Are You "Right-Wing Fringe", or "Left-Wing Fringe" and How Will They Push You

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posted on Aug, 15 2009 @ 09:44 AM
reply to post by mental modulator

You are definately going to like my other new thread then.

Right and Left : A Control Mechanism of the Skull and Bones Society, the Order of Chaos

To me, The Order, is nothing more than corporate raiders, Hell bent on world domination.

And, I believe they would do anything, including pushing the "right-wing fringe" against the "left-wing fringe".

posted on Aug, 15 2009 @ 09:49 AM
reply to post by SpartanKingLeonidas

This might be off topic, but is the Skull and Bones logo any relation to the SS Officers ring?

Seems similar. Any connection?

posted on Aug, 15 2009 @ 09:53 AM
reply to post by TheMythLives

I believe, yes, that you are correct, because I have connected the Skull and Bones directly to the Nazi's, through emblemage, shared direction, and Hegemonic desire.

Good find. Check out the thread I just created on Skull and Bones.

Right and Left : A Control Mechanism of the Skull and Bones Society, the Order of Chaos

You might say, I created this thread segue into the other.

posted on Aug, 15 2009 @ 12:52 PM
reply to post by nine-eyed-eel

I began this thread in earnest as a look at what certain "groups" might do to force you into an action. Will you be a targeted individual, or can you stand up to their terrorist type activities? Think about it, if they are trying to influence you into a negative action, which is something you stand against, then they are exerting an effort to commit "terror" upon others, through you.

Are you mentally strong enough to see the signs and indicators of your own thoughts, being manipulated via a group of individuals who want you to commit heinous actions, or are you someone who fits the "perfect profile" for their desires towards action, making you the perfect and almost willing patsy? This is something that has always crossed my mind, as to why someone like Lee Harvey Oswald would do what he was alleged to have done, because remember, he was never convicted, Jack Ruby shot him dead before he could go to trial, to tie up the lose ends of the conspiracy.

Did he wake up, too late, to what was really going on, because anyone who has seen archival footage knows that Oswald denied having shot J.F.K., sort of like in the movie Shooter where Government Agents come to him to plan an assassination, and Bob Lee Swagger, an ex-Marine (three names no less) is manipulated into being a patsy, for their heinous goals? I am only refrencing these movies and events, as they could be a way for you to teach yourself, how not to get caught up in their nonesense and idiocy.

I know I would hate to hear of any ATS'er who was used by these groups to their detriment.

The image below comes to mind, knowing you shouldn't do it, but someone provokes you is stupidity.

[edit on 15-8-2009 by SpartanKingLeonidas]

posted on Aug, 15 2009 @ 01:11 PM
reply to post by Chevalerous

That sure was a long and round-a-bout way to say one word.


Thanks for contributing, and feel free to take up plenty of more posts with your explanations.

posted on Aug, 15 2009 @ 06:19 PM

Originally posted by redoubt
reply to post by SpartanKingLeonidas

This thread is asking if you are "right-wing fringe" or "left-wing fringe".

I am an extreme centrist. I dislike most all politics and hold that the vast majority of politicians from either side are crooks.

From there, I like this quote:

"The middle of the road is all of the usable surface. The extremes, right and left, are in the gutters." - Dwight D. Eisenhower


I couldn't agree more! The only politician I liked in a long time is Ron Paul. No matter what people think of him I feel he is a "republican" but really a middle of the road guy who would look out for what is best. I am a Catholic too....BUT, that doesn't mean I "have" to be reoublican and right wing like many would like me to believe. That is a control tool...

posted on Aug, 17 2009 @ 08:12 AM
Okay, so I’ve introduced you to the idea that someone might try and provoke you, because you are “right-wing fringe” or “left-wing fringe”, so let’s step this thread up a notch, and I will give you a few “nightmare scenario’s” for to you to cogitate upon, or for those possibly lowbrow ATS’ers cogitate means, wrap your gray brain matter around.

Listen up now, because I am going to go through several events in my life, where I was forced to use my brain extraneously in a large capacity towards tactical maneuvers, that means I had to think in order to survive and not be pushed into an action which might get others, or myself harmed because of someone else’s stupidity.

Lesson One : When I was a teenager, and I am going to use these examples as a “group” trying to provoke me into an action, so bear with me, I had a really big mouth, imagine that if you will, and when I went to school, I spoke my mind, which tended to get other people upset with me, I wonder why.

When I entered seventh grade, I was living out in the boondocks, way out of the city proper, and I had just moved the year prior, and knew no one on this bus route because Junior High School was a whole new animal I had to learn to tackle. Well, day upon day, I got on the bus and seemingly survived it, other teenagers ignoring me, some taunting me because I was quiet, and yet other looking at me strangely because I never talked to other people and I always carried books like The Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew, Murder on the Orient Express, or Sherlock Holmes, so them, I was weird. Imagine that, a teenager who likes to exercise his brain instead of his mouth all the time with stupid gossip and whatnot.

Well, being the resilient young man I was, I would ignore them, and continue reading my books, fascinated by the stories they told of intrigue, guise, and mystery of the “who-done-it” variety. This is a lot easier than I am letting on, because there’s the other kids who jostle you with their backpacks while getting off the bus, other kids who flick your ear to agitate you, or kick the seat because of some 80’s rock band is screaming over the buses radio about ”Come on feel the noise…”, but I got pretty good at ignoring those types of things because I was caught up in some book where I literally became the character, and ignored all outside input.

Day after day of this went by, and I was in Heaven because I could shut out these rude interruptions, and figure out what the Gaijin was with the hero when he was called that in Shogun, or sailing a ship fighting pirates in the Caribbean (no, none of this Disney nonsense, I was reading about historical pirates, or Long John Silver on Treasure Island), or even imagine I was casting magic spells with Gandalf against Orc’s to save Bilbo. Little did I realize, but I was being watched, evaluated, and plotted against by teenager’s who deserved to go to school in a detention center, not in the public school environment. One fine day, when I was between books because I had soaked up all the interesting stories to me in that particular library, I decided to listen to the conversations around me, and unfortunately for me, I longed for warm environment of my books instead, because the topics whizzing by me were about other students sneaking cigarettes in the girls bathroom, other students getting in trouble because they said a foul word and the teacher sent them to the principle, and still other students gossiping about sex and how they would love for their boyfriend to go to second base, instead of being such a pansy.
Well, for those of you who have not had the privilege of knowing me long here on ATS, or have never come across a post in the past, as a teenager, I was a devout Christian, right-wing conservative to the max. Yes, I did mentioning imagining casting magic a bit ago, but I was a teenager who understood that magic was only fantasy or an illusionist like Harry Houdini or David Copperfield pulling slight of hand, so it did not bother me to read about that, although my parents were absolutely against it because it was “of the Devil…”. Gentle reader, can you sense me rolling my eyes, even now, just like back then when I was a teenager when my mom or stepfather would say something like that which I thought was batty as Hell? Well, I am, so let me carry on with my story, please.

What did I do, which caused me so much headaches I take Excedrin as I tell this story, to these other teenagers? I voice my opinion, loud enough to be heard, and it was contrary to what they wanted to hear, of course. Remember, I had a big mouth, and still do, so bite me and let me carry on with the gist of the predicament I walked my way into, okay? Okay. I spoke up to little Suzy Smoker (I forget her name, but this is after all a re-telling of a story) and told her she wasn’t eighteen and it was against the law that she was smoking in girls bathroom, and she should be suspended for her actions. Oh yeah, did I mention my righteousness was more than sufficient to judge others on the entire bus?
Well, little Suzy smoker and her friends lit into me, telling me what kind of tool I was, that just because she was thirteen and her mom and dad would eviscerate her if she got caught, that who the Hell was I to tell her she was wrong, and what was wrong with me for not doing like her.

Like, Oh Ma God, I think I’m just gonna die, he talked to me like that (this is me, imitating the bubble-headed Barbie).

Laughing? Good, because so am I.

Then, silently I brooded, receiving nasty looks from little Suzy Smoker and her Barbiettes, and then I heard little Billy Potty-Mouth talking about how he was in so much trouble because he said crapola (I cleaned it up for you,
) and how his parents were going hit the ceiling when he handed them the note. Again, my tongue licked across my lips, and I spoke up. Kind of silly, aren’t I? I told him he should quite whining about it, and be grateful his stepfather didn’t have a paddle an inch thick with Whale of A Wallop written on it and beat him senseless (I am exaggerating at the re-telling of this, but to a teenager who still got his butt beat, it was pure torture). Oh, this did not bode well for me, he told me to mind my own business, and called me a freak because I always seemed like a Boy Scout, so how the Hell did I ever get beaten. Actually, I was a Cub Scout for a while, my parents dropped it because of the uniform costs, but he didn’t know that, and for those of you reading this now, I’m an adult leader in the Boy Scouts currently, and after this incident I was a Police Explorer in homeschool for High School, but I digress, back to the story at hand.

Boy, I was two for two, on a fast losing streak. Should I really share my thoughts and the encounter of the other individuals? Sure, why not. You’re not bored yet, and my fingers haven’t tired out from typing.

Remember the next one? I sure do. Well, I turned to the other set of teenagers and chastised the one for talking about having sex before she was married, and her and her friends shouldn’t be discussing that type of thing, it made me uncomfortable, because I was a Christian.

Yes, I realize, I am a glutton for punishment, sue me.

Oh, this went better than expected, because not only did the one group of sexually depraved young teens light into me about being too nosey, but they lit into me about being weird, because I didn’t talk about sex, and then, to make matter even more furious for these teens, the boys behind me who I had ignored lit into me, asking if I was a virgin, if I knew what “nookie” was, and poking and prodding me verbally (I would have broken them apart while Martial Arts if they had laid a finger on me) about being a “goodie goodie” and a nark because I would tell on them for doing and saying things on the school bus. Were these other teens just stupid, did they not know I knew what happened to nark’s by watching the example of other kids who were stupid enough to ratfink out their fellow students?

This, my fine feathered friends, is why I never talked, was always the quiet kid, and always buried my nose in my books, they did not judge you. And, you could guess the outcome easier, because after a while you get good at guessing the end of the stories, whereas fellow humans are hard to read, well at that time in my life they were.

So, after this all calmed down, yeah I’m laughing too here, the other kids turned back to me, and began asking me questions, ones that made me even more uncomfortable, like why I was still a virgin (I had dodged that answer before, but they were good guesses, especially when my face turned beet red and I squirmed in my seat), or if I liked to smoke pot, or even did I think I was better than them or something. Oh yes, can you see the building crescendo of ”She’ll be coming around the mountain when she comes, she’ll be coming around the mountain when she comes…”?

I opened, my big fat mouth, yet again, and blurted out several things that set them off.

I told them the following, follow with me through this discourse, if you will.

I don’t have sex, because I’m a Christian and you’re not supposed to do that because God said it was wrong

Smoking pot is wrong, and you’re lucky the Cops don’t lock you up.

Yes, I am better than you, all of you, because I’m not going to burn in the Hellfires of brimstone and ash, like all of you idiots.

Remember I said I had a big mouth? Yes? I told you so, and I was only a teenager, and it only got bigger with age and vocabulary. Oh this got all sorts of laughs, guffaws, screaming at me, you name it. Then, it got worse, yes, you heard me right, it got worse. They teased, taunted, and twisted my thoughts around on me, stuck their middle finger (yes, in that rude gesture) through their other hands index finger and thumb imitating sexual acts, or worse yet, their tongue, kicked the back of my seat, or tripped me when I moved seats or got off the bus, and this last for the next year and a half, this kind of sheer stupidity, because I was “right-wing conservative” and believed in my right to sharing my thoughts in a verbal manner spouting off laws, Christian ideology, or worse that I was better than them.

To be continued in the next post…

posted on Aug, 17 2009 @ 08:12 AM
Here I am, back yet again, to finish off the one story of my life, when I was “right-wing conservative” and the other teenagers were obviously very different than I was at the time.

This type of nonsense kept up off and on until the last six months of eighth grade, yet somehow, I was stupid enough to keep on opening my mouth. Remember, it was big, and for some unknown reason no one had stapled it shut for me at the time. One fine day, standing at the school bus stop, waiting for Steve, the substitute driver to come along and pick us up for another fun filled and exciting day of Junior High (please, note the sarcasm). And low and behold, what do I see, but the two brothers that usually stay at the back of the bus, with the “cool kids”. On the way to the bus stop they decided to be rather ambitiously stupid and leap up and down on one of those car counting devices that the local Police puts out across several lanes of traffic.

Being that I wasn’t particularly impressed with this stupidity, and thinking the bus driver would laugh, I mentioned it to him on the way to school. He was after all the same man who ignored my pleas for assistance and always was telling semi-naughty jokes. Anyway, the bus driver was not necessarily impressed with their actions and the end result was them getting suspended for multiple days, which got them also punished by their Corvette driving parents. I swear that was not my intention but the end result still made me smile devilishly. Once the brothers got back to school, the threats of violence and their stupid attempts of brutality and intimidation began to get worse than they already had been, but they multiplied even further and were compounded by the fact that they essentially rounded up all the individuals on the bus who really weren’t that fond of me.

Now the fact that this was six months before the last day of school these geniuses (read tactically less intelligent than myself) decided to begin to tell me every single day that they were going to get permission to get off the bus together, this being a group of fifteen boys, to go “play football” together (read kick the ever living crap out of my butt). For six months, I attempted to tell the Principle, gee he didn’t like me, the Dean, the boys were watching me and my actions and always got there first, or to other teachers I thought might help. You think it’s difficult to find an adult in school, and you’d be wrong but ones you felt you could trust when half of them were people who thought your problems were stupidly less than theirs. I thought adults were supposed to care about kids and their problems in school, but guess what gentle reader; you’re wrong and so was I.

On the last day of school, having not told my parents about any of this since I was taught to handle my own problems (read my parents were busy working multiple jobs, and essentially I was on my own) I took it upon myself to take a four foot chain and sneak it into school. Well, long story short, I snuck it throughout the school where all the other kids had knives and an assortment of worse weaponry than I was toting around. Locker to locker or class to class, hiding it behind my school books in my pocket or wrapping it around my waist under my belt line, I had learned from the year and a half of these other teens nonsense to not let them know what I was doing if I could help it. It didn’t exactly sit right in my gut, but I did it nonetheless, and got away with it I might add. When the school bus stopped, the driver being the nice guy he was, called me up to the front of the bus first and gave me some sage advice. He said “Jason, you better run like Hell and not look back”, to which I replied…”Steve, I’m not running this time, I’ve had it with running” and I proceeded to pull the chain out of my pocket just a few inches. You know in the cartoons where some big bad wolf’s eye bug out and get the size of dinner plates? Well, Steve’s eyes did exactly that and he told me not to hurt them. I told him I had no intention of hurting anyone, unless they got within my four foot radius, then I’d trash them pretty good.

I proceeded to get off of the bus, walking backwards since knowing you never turn your back on the enemy, and pulled the chain out of my pocket. I began swinging it around like Conan the Barbarian on steroids, oh wait that was Arnie with the steroids, with a sword. Now if you’ll remember what I said before about the bus driver, you can imagine the reactions of the rest of the school buses kid’s reactions. The bus driver stopped the bus and looked out of the door, screaming at me to drop the chain and to run. Was he stupid? Drop my weapon of defense? No way was I going to do that. I began backing away slowly step by step from these other boys with chants from the school bus that I should kill the boys along with other mixed reactions from, “Holy crap, Jason’s standing up to them”, to “Oh My God!” I was ignoring all of that though and keeping my eyes focused on the trouble right in front of me, those other boys.

They didn’t exactly expect this of me of course since up until that point they had always been able to scare me, intimidate me, or trip me when I was walking away, etc. You get the drift. This is of course that moment in my life, when I stepped over the line from being the bullied to being the bully buster and stopped people like these dead in their tracks. That dead in their tracks part, is of course a just a saying and not a reference to any actual crime of murder.

You know I knew these boys were chicken’s, but I never thought I’d prove it. Boy did I ever, huh? Oh yeah, I have to tell you that part still. About half the boys ran as fast as they could away from me in the general reverse direction they had been heading, which was towards me. The other half stopped dead in their tracks. The bus driver began driving the bus away with teenager’s faces plastered against the windows and I began back away slowly still swinging the chain around like mad man, er mad teenager. From learning a lot of things between that day and now as I sit in my apartment writing this I can tell you honestly that this was what they call a FUBAR situation. Go to Wikipedia and look FUBAR up. And Mr. Murphy of Murphy’s Law fame was pretty close by too. The boys decided to try to fake me out but I saw that coming too. When in a situation like this, which is similar to a combat situation you go through what is called an adrenaline dump and your senses go into overload. I literally went into what I now call a three tier sensory situation. That would be where I heard things up close to me like normal, things within twenty feet like someone was talking very, very loud, and someone fifty feet away sounds like their yelling their heads off, even if their whispering.

If you’ve never been in combat or a hostile and hazardous situation then you will never learn to appreciate this knowledge, so sit down, shut up, and listen and learn. Remember my big mouth?
The boys were all at different areas in front of me, about six of them within ten to fifteen feet asking between themselves what they were going to do, and the rest of them were about thirty-five feet away and were whispering amongst themselves about running down the block and cutting me off from getting to my house out of the site of the bus driver who was driving away. My friends this was a bad situation, turning into an even worse one. The boys who had been whispering over yonder began yelling at their friends that they were all “going to go play football” like the original “plan” had been.

This is one of those times when you know that people are flat out lying because they did that all the time and weren’t very good at it. I continued walking slowly backwards and one stupid teenager, kept walking towards me. Now you’d think he’d go away but since he began yelling at me that he was demon possessed and that he was going to kill me and Jesus didn’t love me, I was not inclined to think what you’re thinking right now. Remember, I mentioned I was Christian before, well I still am. Yes, violence is not a part of church but then again, I’m not in church and if you’re reading this while sitting in a pew when you should be listening to a preacher and it didn’t go up in flames or you yourself didn’t spontaneously combust, well I guess God has forgiven me, so shut up.

Once I saw that they were far enough away from me that I could successfully turn around to run, I did just that. Chain tightly gripped in my hand, my little legs pumping as fast as they could, I got about halfway to my house when things when from FUBAR to Mr. Murphy and his Laws jumping on my back and straight into BOHICA (look it up) and making things worse. Not only were there stupid teenagers coming crashing through the woods to attempt to cut me off, but I had reached to my necklace and get my house keys out in order to be prepared to get into my house quickly. You know I really hate forgetting things and today sure as Hell was not one of those days to do that sort of silly thing. I had forgotten my house keys since I had been so worried about this situation as I walked out the door to the bus stop that morning. Talk about out of the pan and into the fire, huh? I got to the house and decided to try and check to see if one of my parents had figured out I had forgotten my keys and maybe, just maybe left the front door unlocked. No such luck. Was this a bad day, or what? I took off like a bat out of Hell with those boys still chasing me, getting another half block with only two or three of them still keeping up to my faster than light speed at this point when I ran past the stop sign on the street corner trying to figure out where to go and it hit me. No, nothing actually hit me, that’s a saying. It hit me like a ton of bricks to run to the nearest kids house I knew had already gotten out of school and ran to his front yard, leaping over the fence and running into his yard screaming for his mom to call the Police, and that these kids were going to kill me.

This fine friends, was my kill zone, or rather ambush time. What you say is a “kill zone” or an “ambush?” I had led these boys to a friends house, whose mom was a prickly Christian and just like every mom in America she was ready for action. I heard her asking question upon question, and me being winded and tired as Hell repeated my mantra, call the Cops, they’re going to kill me. My friends out there, there’s one thing you never mess with, a prickly Christian mommy. I know that, hopefully you knew that, but the baddies, those idiots from the bus stop did not know such things, or they didn’t exactly know whose yard I had run into so they proceeded to run into Kathy’s yard, that’s pissed off mommy on overload, to come after me. I had according to Roger’s Rangers tactics, set up a classic ambush.

Okay, okay, who’s Roger, why’s he a Ranger, how’s a boy like me back then know these things? Well, that’s another story. The short version here for those of you impatient readers is that Roger’s Rangers classic text reads for a hasty ambush, gee me running my butt off not wanting to stop in order to get my butt beaten down, was for the bushwhacker, that’s me, to lead the enemy into a concealed position, nothing concealed about the house as the garage door was wide open which is where I had run to and dropped my chain in there…oh you want know what was concealed here, oh that would be those facts I already told you that the teen’s didn’t know about, Kathy’s inclination towards the pucker factor of twenty-five when it came to violence and anyone she knew, namely at that exact minute, me. The next thing that ole Roger says is the ambush is not initiated until the majority of the ambushed, those idiots there coming through the gate, were within the “kill zone”, there’s that word phrase again. The kill zone was of course, was Momma Kathy’s pucker factor of a driveway. Me, being out of breath here had been directed by mommy of my friend to go into the house, with her having at that time one those well known wireless phones that were brand new.

To be continued in the next post…[i/]

posted on Aug, 17 2009 @ 08:13 AM
Continuing the saga of my “right-wing conservative” activities as a teenager…

Kathy there had acted as the ambush without knowledge of previous actions of these boys and me. Whoa, maybe I should package her up and send her butt to Iraq and see what the Al Qaeda think of her, huh? She was like a well set up bunch of claymore mines and I had drawn the enemy into her yard, the kill zone and she was screaming at the top of her lungs at those bozo’s to get out of her yard, while simultaneously screaming at the 911 Operator to get a Cop there in a hurry. I do love when an ambush, namely said idiot’s plan becomes a reverse ambush, since there came this bad Cop running to helpless Kathy’s and my rescue. A double pincer ambush is always best in a bad situation, and this, my fine feathered friends, had seemed as such when I had initiated it when I ran towards little Tommy and Jimmy’s house, where Kathy lived and whose husband was still at work. Ah, the light bulb went off in your head finally. Good, good to see you’re finally catching up here. Well, the Officer there was even more puckered than Kathy here, and best yet he lived right around the block from her and me, as a matter of fact he lived down that road I had been running on but I didn’t think me running into his yard where his wife (I just ran into her the other day, she doesn’t remember me, go figure), another of my town’s finest Officer’s lived, with I believe it was five canine Officer’s, that’s Police doggies to you, besides running to his house I would probably have run out of breath or tripped on said entry and gotten the crap beaten out of me.

You know it was just my luck that I happened to know him a bit, but that’s another story for another time. Needless to say he knew of me at least but didn’t know me well, as I was a kid who rode my bicycle by his house daily. The Officer in question rounded up the fifteen boys, sans maybe three or five of them who had high-tailed it when they had seen his patrol car, and began asking them questions. The next phase of his well oiled plan was to go ask Momma Kathy exactly what the hubbub was about. Of course he didn’t say it like I so eloquently pronounced it there. Since he got the fax, and just the fax, oh come on you Dragnet people out there, you have to remember that catch phrase, from the boys screaming at him that I was evil and had to die, and then Kat’s version of the fact that this boy, namely me, who was friends of her sons, had come into her property screaming bloody murder, well that I was going to be bloodily murdered that is of course.

The Officer’s next step here, why of course was to question me, and I told him the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. That I had problems with these boys, the short version of the bus stop stomp incident with said bus driver’s name nice and neatly fit into it, and the fact that I was so scared that I had run into Kathy’s yard since I forgot my keys. Oh yeah, let’s not forget that I left out the part about the ambush, how I knew it, and why it was such a effective tool I had implemented, by myself being a one teenager, acting alone (are you getting the picture here?). Since I had had the opportunity to use said chain but didn’t I had not become decisively engaged just like Roger said, and had surprised the enemy, not once but twice. As Gomer Pyle used to say, “Suhpprise Suhpprise, Suhpprise, and goollleee…Sergeant Carter.” Since my knight in smiting armor, oh I mean shining armor there, of course had showed up. Oh yeah, did I forget to tell you this tidbit of information here, he was as crooked a Cop as they come? How did I know? I learnt it based on intelligence data I’d collected along my path in life up until that point, from my father. He of course, was the second set of claymore mines that I had initiated against erstwhile bad teen’s here, the idiot teenagers who’d screwed with the wrong person, me.

Roger, in his infinite wisdom says in his field manual that once said enemy is in the kill zone, that you should A: Kill Them, well I couldn’t exactly do that, since Kathy, be sure and wave Kathy as you read this book, go ahead wave, I’ll wait; and the Officer were watching me and those teen’s carefully, and my said choice of weaponry was the chain sitting in Kathy’s garage over fifty feet away, since when said Officer had pulled up I had run to his Police car as he pulled up. Roger’s next choice of B : was to Capture Them, and seeing as I was outmanned by them even though I had two grown adults there, and one with a side-arm even and I was technically not outgunned, insert laughter here of course, since I couldn’t just ask said Officer to hand me his side arm so I could arrest these boys and hog tie them, or ask again to borrow his equipment, like a pair or eight of handcuffs. Then of course there’s the C: option, Force the Withdrawal of said enemy.

Well, that’s what I chose to do; or rather the Officer chose to do for me, after asking me a select set of questions while watching my body language as he had those other boys. After of course, him expressing to me the one piece of the puzzle that hadn’t added up, that I had hit one of those boys. What a load of crap you say? Yeah, me too. Well apparently the boys, had told said Officer that I had turned around and smacked little Billy, that being his anonymous name here in my story, with my length of four foot chain. Um, say what? Yeah, that’s what I was saying right about then too, but not in those words, it was more like, “excuse me Officer?” Uh huh, he nodded and bobbed his rotten little head up and down, reassuring me that he believed me, but how did the boy end up bleeding, since the Officer had seen blood on his face and a welt below it on his lip the size of the Officer’s size ten boondocker’s.

Well, I asked the Officer exactly what they had said, and he told me verbatim what they had said, that I being a nasty little demon possessed teenager (um, wasn’t I the Christian? Yes, I was) had turned around and thwacked Mr. Billy in the mouth and then kept running like the dirtbag I was. Um, I am not a dirtbag; I am a proper planning person preventing piss poor performance, namely my survival. The performance in question here, as you sit scratching your butt whilst eating Cheetoh’s and wondering if it left your nose orange the last time you picked it? According to Roger and his handbook and Rule number five, never take a chance you don’t have to. My performance was of course, my little itty bit life being preserved of course. On to the next bit of the story, which was that said Officer of the Law decided to believe in me, oh am I so glad he did that, in that I had been running and hit Kathy’s fence out of breath, and that according to myself I had never stopped running and that one or two boys had gotten within five feet of actually catching me, that maybe, just maybe one had gotten within three feet without my knowledge, and the chain, which was whipping around and flopping around like a hooker on a crack withdrawal, had bumped the road and smacked the crap out of little Billy.

Of course, I never used any of those choice select words there; he would have questioned why I spoke like that. The thing here is all in the presentation of course, I presented to the Officer, no threat of violence to him, or to Kathy, but to the shifty and beady eyed little monsters who had willingly been suckered into a double-tiered whammy salami ambush of my making. The Officer said that was good enough for him and that I should stay with Kathy in the time it would take to escort (read politely ask the boys not being under arrest, yet…to step into his office, the Police car) these here boy’s home to their persnippity parents. I agreed. I went to Kathy at his direction, and she hugged me tight. Go ahead, say it, and say the long drawn out aaawww…I can’t get you now but I will later, and waited while said Officer gently reminded stupid boys that they had to get in his car, that since they were not under arrest, yet, that this was a willing participation type thing. Boy, the looks I got from those boys were priceless.

As Kathy, me, and Sun Tzu sat there jabber jawing, that would be me ignoring Kathy’s crying, checking off my list of tactical analysis data, the list of what I had encountered verses what I had accomplished, YAY me. I looked up from time to time of course and nodded to Kathy and let her smother me with hugs and kisses on the cheek, oh my what a thing at that age, and thought I had been lucky that her and sons hadn’t been away at the store or the Officer hadn’t been at work instead of sitting on his butt at home. Okay, your probably asking me to back the Hell up here and answer your question of who is Sun Tzu and why was I talking to him, was I crazy and hearing voices, or did I have a radio transmitter in my ear? Nope, none of the above my Cheetoh’s eating fiend. Sun Tzu was a Chinese man back over three thousand year ago who wrote a little book called The Art of War. You know tactical advantage over the enemy, use the terrain of the enemy against them, and use sheer force of nature against the enemy?

Tactical advantage one, I knew things about Kathy and the Officer’s home location, not whether he was home or not, tactical advantage number two, said gangster hooligans desire to see me die and eat pavement for my transgressions against them and their stupidity of following me no matter what, tactical advantage number three, the fact that no matter that I had forgotten my keys I could still keep pushing ahead and sucker these idiots into an ambush if I kept my wits about me and didn’t panic. I didn’t panic there? Well, no, technically I didn’t. Terrain advantage number one is, they knew where I lived but didn’t know about Kathy and didn’t think much of any Police Officer and this one’s fine home and the distance it was from Kathy’s home. Terrain advantage number two, I knew Kathy and her sons and her house and how she felt about violence, crime, and drugs, none it of it was in their favor. Terrain advantage three, the weather was clear, bright, and shiny and I could see everything around me, them dumb bozo’s were too intent on catching me to think about anything else than my head on a pike.
Sheer force of nature number one, don’t ever (read never ever times infinity) screw with someone who has you outsmarted every step of the way (especially when you stupidly tell your tactics, giving away tactical security). Sheer force of nature number three, mommy in question Kathy, and her willingness to never let harm to come to anyone on her property and the fact that she had a rolling pin in hand to back herself up. Force of nature number three of course, is the Officer, his patrol car, and his tendency to being a nasty Cop who wanted to be seen as a good guy. Never ever screw with any of those combinations, especially if I am in the middle of said combat situation. Of course, Sun Tzu probably didn’t exactly mean that translation as I referenced it, but hey who cares, he died three thousand years ago and I’m sitting here typing this story up as I remember the story. Now some of you probably think this here flashback is over and you’d be right if I let you be stupid and walk into my ambush, but since I’m warning you, you should tell me thank you. Go ahead, I’ll wait.

posted on Aug, 17 2009 @ 08:14 AM
Back to my story…

You’re welcome, no ambushes here. The next phase of this here situation is that I had to sit and play nice with those boys my age until my parents came home. Of course me telling the Officer my full name, address, my parent’s names, and work number for my mom since my dad didn’t have a contact number, helped speed the situation along here. About an hour and a half later, my mom after all couldn’t leave work until five and my dad being out reach, or rather I believe he had kept working letting me stay safely nestled into Kathy’s warm bosom. What a nice bosom it was too, but I didn’t think about things like that, I was already thinking about the next tactical situation I might have to encounter with said teen’s that the nice Officer had escorted away might attempt to do. I didn’t believe this encounter was over with but knowing the rest of the story later I did. My dad called Kathy since the Officer had left a contact phone number of where I was, not that my parents didn’t constantly know who I knew or where I hung out, but the Officer didn’t know those details and he was doing his job. Daddy dearest of course asked me a few select questions, then asked that I hand the phone back to Kathy, which is when I heard her ask him repeatedly if he was sure that I should walk home, that she insisted that he let her let me climb into her car and drive me home. Well, daddy dearest said no, that I was a big boy and that I could walk home, I know this because I could hear his raised voice at her when she held the phone away from his ear.

Right about now you’re probably thinking what a heartless jerk my stepfather was, and you’d be right to a point and back then I’d agree with you right about then after that crap I’d encountered. Kathy continued to argue but my stepfather won, since he hung up on her leaving her with no more tactical advantage, namely being female and sexually persuasive and pissed off and on the phone with him. I was hugged tightly and told to walk straight home by the buxom bosomed woman who had “come to my rescue” (read sucker in tight pants with a low cut blouse) and not stop anywhere that my parents were worried about me and that I was very loved. By her tone of voice I knew she was pissed at my stepfather but was intelligent enough not to tell that to a teenager who had went through a “traumatic situation” like this.

Well, buffalo chips. I was not happy but I did as directed, the whole while bushwalking back home, that would be tactically aware of my entire surroundings at all times and going through the woods to recon my home to make sure none of these idiots had bushwhacked my parents. I chose to do a three point recon, one point of view of the house so that I could see that none of them was laying in wait and hadn’t murdered my parents in the fifteen minute walk home that should have taken me three minutes. I mean I could have been like the Saturday morning cartoon character that is the Tasmanian Devil and run straight home right straight into my driveway and front door, but that was a tactical no-no and I knew it. My stepfather, he told me he was proud of me and that there would be a discussion later (read I was as careful as him, hadn’t gotten killed, and he loved me…and go play in my room, I was not, repeat not in trouble). Well, about a half hour later I heard a knock on the front door when I had gone to get a drink of water, and being the civilly and ever present good kid I was volunteered to go get the door just by walking to it without saying a word. Well, Gomer’s back, or his Suhpprises are at least. It was the Officer’s wife, the K-9 Officer in uniform and she looked at me like I was something to be scared of and asked to speak to my parents. This was a SNAFU I didn’t want to endure but I listened and learned. Well, as I sit here listening to Bob Seger and Fire Down Below whilst typing this I’ll tell you at that moment I thought all of everything I’d achieved had been thrown out the window.

The female Officer asked to talk outside to my stepfather and I began walking with him to which I got a look of disdain from said Officer and received direction from stepfather to go back inside and wait. Oh crap, I was screwed and I knew it. Said Officer and my stepfather of course never noticed that I hadn’t closed the door behind me when I had gone back in but left it opened a crack, well the Officer didn’t see me but my stepfather knew I was watching because he looked over his shoulder because he felt me watching him. Oh well, busted on that point but since he didn’t walk over and slam the door in my face I took it that it was okay and that I should watch. So I did just that, watched, listened, and learned. Him and the Officer discussed how I had behaved and the look on her face said she was scared of my stepfather but listened intently, then being an Officer of the Law she advised my stepfather that I would never have a problem with those boys since she had gone and communicated with the offending little turd’s parents, the Prince of a Pal and all of the Principal’s in the surrounding schools and assured my stepfather that I would never have trouble again.

Well, Hells Bells, as the song goes, I was free and clear of the incident. Most people would love for this to be over so I thought it was, that is until my father told her no it was not okay in what she had done, that she had failed me, the system had failed me, and that he was thankful for her and said husband’s efforts in protecting me, but that these kids had a history of violence with me from having beaten me up in school before and that it never got anywhere, so as far as he was concerned she could have a nice day and that she should be safe on the streets of our town. You’d think the Officer would have taken the hint, or the clues that my father was done with her and that conversation. She didn’t though.

The Police Officer standing there outside of my house staring at my stepfather’s back with a bewildered look upon her face finally snapped out of it right as his hand touched the doorknob. “Sir, aren’t you in the least concerned about your son being entangled in a fight with fifteen boys and bring a four foot chain to school?” she asked. My stepfather eyed me through the door that was cracked open and turned back to the Police Officer. “No ma’am, I am not in the least concerned.” The look of shock on the Officers face was priceless, especially when he finished the rest of his statement with the following words. “If it had been me in the same exact situation, I would have brought a baseball bat instead of the chain and I would have killed the ignorant teenager’s and let God sort them out. I think my son practiced very good discretion, don’t you Officer?” The Police Officer had a look of intense thought and concentration for all of about fifteen seconds while she considered what he’d said to her and then she nodded affirmative. “Yes sir, I see your point.” I think the Officer thought more of me and wasn’t quite so scared of me after that. My stepfather wished the female Police Officer a safe and uneventful rest of her shift to which she smiled and walked away.

Now, you can pick up your jaw off of the floor. And yes, all of this is true, every single word and yes my stepfather spoke to Officers of the Law like that as a matter of fact he still does to this day. There’s no hatred or animosity about it in the least from him directed to the Police Officers.

Now, just how would you have handled that situation, if it were you?

If you think about it, this is similar to the type of events I explained to you in the original post, as these other teenagers tried to provoke me into an action, mainly to fight to the death, or only run scared, without thought and let them trip me up and beat the crap out of me. I would label those other teenagers “left-wing” because of their values there and that they had a problem with my “right-wing conservative” mentality.

What if you come across an incident of this nature, as a grown adult in this day and age where the Government will do almost anything to provoke what they deem an “extremist” into an action, or in seeking out a patsy, might try to set you up into a pre-set situation where they expect predictable outcomes? This is of course, an incident I can never forget, and I am utilizing it as an example of what I am posting about here, but I’m sure you can imagine the most insane and plausible provocation of your own that might “push you” over the edge into an action that goes against your very nature, because as you know they will not just try and provoke you one way, but will hit you with many types of ways, people, and means to agitate you into action.

Me, I will outsmart, outwit, and outthink them, every single time, and live to tell and re-tell the events, just like Randy Weaver did at Ruby Ridge. The difference being, he lost people he loved, and I’m not willing to put anyone I love into that sort of situation to begin with, not that I think he did, but if I ever suspected ignorant individuals were going to try to provoke me, I would chase my girlfriend or wife even out of the picture so she would not become a hostage held against me, or so they could not turn around and claim I was holding her against her will.

Remember, when the Government wants something, it will do almost anything to get it, even use your words, your actions, or your loved ones, against you. Not necessarily in that order either.

You see, there’s a distinct difference between you and I, fellow ATS’ers.

I know, because of my childhood, teenage years, and all the way into my mid-twenties, that I could have been one of those Clock-tower sniper’s who just flipped his lid one day, and went off the deep end, but because I know better, and I trust in my instincts, and a higher power, I know no one can ever push me into an action like that, because knowing of those types of events, and knowing how to overcome them is just a part of who I am.

My hometown is one where just one of those types of incidents happened to have happened, so I watched, listened and learned about what happened, and will never fall into that type of ignorant trap. His name was [url=]William Cruse, and according to my sources, he was provoked into that type of incident when he took a Winn Dixie hostage and had a gun fight with the local Police force in my hometown. He’s been sitting in prison since 1986, right around the time I was dealing with these idiots, the difference is he was off his medication at the time, and I’ve never needed any type of medication. Our school bus drove by his neighborhood and the Winn Dixie he took hostage, every day before his incident and after it as well.

Just for your edification, I am working on writing actual books, where I am putting these types of scenario’s into it, under fiction, so I cannot get sued.

I will as well write a few other incidents where I had to outthink idiots who wanted to do me harm, I’m just letting my fingers rest for now.

posted on Aug, 17 2009 @ 08:14 AM
Now that I have introduced the theory that you might be “right-wing fringe” or “left-wing fringe” and that there is the possibility of a wolf pack out there herding you into an action like a sheeple being led to the slaughter, let us take a step back and examine the why a little more in depth as to why they might pick you to “do the dirty deed”, installing you basically into the slot of the patsy instead of doing it themselves and reaping their own reward. This takes but a few moments to ponder if you consider the ramifications of the outcome themselves, that people will be harmed, that laws will be changed, that the national psyche will be damaged, sometimes permanently like it was after the Dealey Plaza incident where Lee Harvey Oswald allegedly pulled out a nigh on impossible mission to assassinate John F. Kennedy, by himself, a “lone nutcase”.

The outcome of that event is that the public was confused, hurt, and felt betrayed by their own Government, the United States Government, because there were so many unanswered questions which the public felt they were entitled to, but they were getting shafted by the very people who were supposed to protect and serve, because of what can only be described as a cover-up of the events. Was John F. Kennedy that popular a man with the public and was he trying to make the world a better place, and the desire of the criminal element behind the scenes wanted to keep causing conflict in order to cause strife and tension in the world? This would mean that Jack’s goals did not line up with the people who he servant to, behind the scenes, the men who put him into power to begin with. Who exactly put him into power, was it not the public who went to the voting booth and cast their vote for the best man to get into the White House?

Some people still think that our system works that way, that we the people actually elect the man we want to run our country, and that he listens to us as a large populace and wants the betterment of mankind in his heart, but not this humble person writing this particular thread. I have seen through the corruption, the lies, the cover-ups, not because I am a supporter of the Republican Party nor the Democratic Party and I see the party line doctrine of one side over the other, not because I am conservative nor liberal and see through the beliefs, lies, and malfeasance of one side over the other, because I could care less for either political party, and I could care less for either way of thinking because they both have their good and bad points, there truths and lies, their foibles and Faustian ways where they will sell their soul to the Devil to get their way.

I have created yet another fascinating thread which I posted below.

Every Time Someone Called You A Fascist, They Might Have Been Right, Is Your Ideology Fascist?

And just to clarify, I am not Fascist, nor am I promoting fascism

[edit on 17-8-2009 by SpartanKingLeonidas]

posted on Aug, 17 2009 @ 02:04 PM
Federal Government wise?

Right Wing Extremist. So extreme, I want to see the Federal Government dissolve. I firmly believe the Federal Government is NO PLACE to discuss social issues.

State Government wise?

Centrist to Liberal. Social issue wise I am pretty left leaning, I believe in freedom of choice and self determination.. I don't believe any government has any right to tell anyone how to live.

Personal Life?

Conservative, I believe in the conservative moral values, which I practice in my own life, but would never expect another Human Being to imitate just because I say so.

I believe your political leanings should be categorized as far as what section of political life your talking about. I am a member of the Libertarian Party.. the most conservative party but also the most liberal party.
If you have not noticed by my description, political labels are a flawed way of thinking.

posted on Aug, 17 2009 @ 02:15 PM
reply to post by Rockpuck

I love the way you put that, Rockpuck.

I have survived, not because of the labels of society, but in spite of them.

Yes, unfortunately, Government has fallen, and cannot get back up.

posted on Aug, 17 2009 @ 02:42 PM
I'm an anarchist so I'm automatically on there target list.

posted on Aug, 17 2009 @ 02:46 PM

Originally posted by Phlynx
I'm an anarchist so I'm automatically on there target list.

You will most likely like the thread below that I created.

I Am Not An Anarchist, Nor A Traitor To My Country...

So, by your own definition, they would try to provoke you?

Just because you're on a list, does not mean they will try to push you.

posted on Aug, 17 2009 @ 02:57 PM

Originally posted by SpartanKingLeonidas

Originally posted by Phlynx
I'm an anarchist so I'm automatically on there target list.

You will most likely like the thread below that I created.

I Am Not An Anarchist, Nor A Traitor To My Country...

So, by your own definition, they would try to provoke you?

Just because you're on a list, does not mean they will try to push you.

I figure they would assume me as one of those crazy anarchists how like to blow stuff up. Even if I am not one of the crazy ones, I will be asumed as such and me a target on there list.

posted on Aug, 17 2009 @ 03:08 PM
I guess it all depends on who is in office and what party he belongs to. I don't much care about political affiliation I vote for the man not the party. If we are going by my last few votes then I guess I am a right winger.

I vote on the 50/50 scale. 50% on politics and 50% on personality. If I can't relate to anything about a person then I don't want him in charge of me.

Obama tries to hard to be liked. A lot of people said they would like to have a beer with W. So what does Obama do? He invites 2 people who are at odds over to have a beer.

Yeah, so I guess my not liking Obama makes me a right winger. We will see next election.

posted on Aug, 17 2009 @ 03:10 PM

Originally posted by SpartanKingLeonidas

Originally posted by Phlynx
I'm an anarchist so I'm automatically on there target list.

You will most likely like the thread below that I created.

I Am Not An Anarchist, Nor A Traitor To My Country...

So, by your own definition, they would try to provoke you?

Just because you're on a list, does not mean they will try to push you.

I read your thread, and I would have to disagree, Anarchy isn't chaos, it is the belief of freedom and order without a leader to control you.

Here is a link to a huge essay on Anarchy.

I think libcom stands for library computer, but it could be liberal or something... but Anarchists aren't liberal or conservative, so I don't know what it is.

posted on Aug, 17 2009 @ 03:10 PM
reply to post by Phlynx

Well, as long as you don't try to re-enact the Turner Diaries, they have no reason to do that.

Keep on keeping on.

posted on Aug, 17 2009 @ 03:12 PM
reply to post by jd140

Being that I am not a drinker, and I do not want to lied to, I cannot see that happening.

Why on Earth would anyone want to sit down and drink beer with a President.

That escapes me, he is not the average Joe, at all, never has been and never will be.

Anyone who thinks the President is an average person is deluding themselves.

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