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Saturday, November 10, 2012

For Liberty

PROPHECY CAN BE FOUND IN THE STRANGEST OF PLACES.

The United States Militias are with you. Do not despair, do not relent. We welcome the
removal of masks and the hardness of truth. You are not alone. We were here when it all started.
We have paid in blood and tears for thirty years, as many of you now realize you will have to pay.
Do not let fear drive you. Do not give up five minutes before the miracle occurs. You are not
beaten until you are in the cold hard ground. Do not hide. Do not give up one inch. Go boldly into
the fray with faith in your heart and a song on your lips. You, the Patriots of this age are our Sinn
Fein, we need you to stand. And in standing, become the stone that can not be moved. Find the
Militia in your State, you will find a brotherhood that the Marxists and the Corrupt can not
match. You will be welcomed, you will be educated, you will be trained to be an effective freedom
fighter.
"We are what our forefathers envisioned, strong-willed,and self-reliant. We are the legacy they
fought to build. We are not anti-government, We are anti-corruption. We are not anti-immigrant,
We are pro-citizenship. We are not separatists, We are Constitutionalists. We know our history
and revere it, We love our country and fear for it. We are your mechanics, and your insurance
agents. Your police and your firefighters. We are your neighbors. We are Citizens and We are the
Militia."
“HARD RAIN”
Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?
I’ve stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains
I’ve walked and I’ve crawled on six crooked highways
I’ve stepped in the middle of seven sad forests
I’ve been out in front of a dozen dead oceans
I’ve been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard
And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, and it’s a hard
And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall
Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin’
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin’
I saw a white ladder all covered with water
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children
And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard
And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall
And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin’
Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin’
Heard ten thousand whisperin’ and nobody listenin’
Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin’
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley
And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard
And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall
Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony
I met a white man who walked a black dog
I met a young woman whose body was burning
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow
I met one man who was wounded in love
I met another man who was wounded with hatred
And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard
It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall
Oh, what’ll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what’ll you do now, my darling young one?
I’m a-goin’ back out ’fore the rain starts a-fallin’
I’ll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison
Where the executioner’s face is always well hidden
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten
Where black is the color, where none is the number
And I’ll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it
Then I’ll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin’
But I’ll know my song well before I start singin’
And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard
It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall
STAND AND RESIST

1 comment:

  1. Ain't nobody coming to the rescue this time, no US Military, (who all each and everyone of the yellow belly chickenshit pampered dilettantes, swore an oath to defend and protect the Constitution from enemies foreign and domestic), no French, no elected representatives, no resupply from sympathetic nations, and every single man and woman in this country who swore an oath on the Holy Bible before God as witness before taking up office of law and legislature has failed to honor those oaths. EVERYONE. Big fat Zilch.

    Just a bunch of deer hunters and pissed off hard working folks is all that's left of a republic based on the rule of law and the virtue to cherish and protect it. And to top it all off, everywhere, from all quarters, it's piss on, open season, no bag limit, on the deer hunters and few million who got the gumption and grit to take a stand.

    Up your arses!

    Well we are all in for it this time. Everyone. In the form of the most gruesome form of irony, it is the real diversity, no one gets a free ride on tyranny. You pay the devil you choose no matter what. It's the great equal opportunity serfdom. Unconstitutional Republic.
    Yes Sir!

    I can't help but wonder, what our "brave" men and women in the military are doing while this usurper we got in the white house is throwing a party upon success of the greatest of bloodless coupe's of a peoples republic? chirp...chirp...chirp...

    No matter, you gots to do what yous gots to do.
    It's into the breech, and thanks for nothing.

    ReplyDelete