The president raised his head again, but the man was gone. Standing in the doorway was a shorter, smaller person. He had a military uniform on and was patiently waiting with his arms crossed.
“Sir?”
Is that Manning? the President thought. They must have me heavily sedated. “Hello soldier. How are you faring?”
“Better than you sir,” Manning replied. “I only got thirty more years or so. You look pretty thrashed. I didn’t know they could do presidents like this.”
“They’ve done worse,” said the President, “all in the name of national security.”
“I was gonna ask you about that sir,” began Manning, “if you have time to talk.”
“Cute. What’s up?”
“If the official narrative is written by those in control of the media and the media is owned by the uber-rich, and the uber-rich all work together to keep their fortunes from failing by pimping the government into giving them more and more tax dollars, even though they don’t actually pay any taxes, how are they serving the interests of ‘national security’?”
“They aren’t,” responded the President. “They’re serving themselves.”
“That’s what I thought,” said Manning. He popped his knuckles and looked hesitant. “Just out of curiosity, if you catch Snowden, are you gonna do the same thing to him that you did to me?”
“I didn’t do anything to you son,” answered the President. “You got yourself in that position, but I’m glad you’re still alive. Snowden’s in Russia, so he’s safe for now. We can’t touch him.”
“Would you have done the same as us?” asked Manning.
The President dropped his head, “I’m a constitutional lawyer man, I do things by the book. I would’ve done it differently, but yes, I would’ve attempted to make change.”
“So how’s that hopey-changey stuff working out for you Mr. President?”
The theme song from Psycho went through the President’s head as he heard Sarah Palin’s words come back to him. Her voice seemed to match the screech of the violins. He was scared to look up.
“It’s still me sir,” said Manning. “Are you having issues?”
Issues? No, I’m just the President of the most powerful nation in the world, bound and gagged in some room debating the ethics of our country with a hallucination…what issues could I be having? “I’ll be fine son.”
“I’m not so sure sir. I don’t think you’re in touch with the People anymore. If you’re telling me that 1% of 1% of the population actually own the government now, and you’re working with them, how are you helping the rest of us? And for that matter, how are you gonna be fine? And just so you know,” Manning continued, “I’m no longer a son.”
“They changed the laws son, er…soldier. They changed the laws to enable them to grab all this power. They did it during the last administration. I can’t just change them back. It’s the laws that hold this nation together. If we don’t respect our own laws, what can we respect?”
“If the law can be bought and sold, is that law based on human rights or the privileged?” asked Manning. “If those laws aren’t just or fair to the rest of us, are those laws worth abiding by?”
“Of course not, but you can’t buck the system until you have enough of the People behind you, and YOU DON’T!”
Manning looked hurt. The President’s temper surprised both of them. “I’m sorry. You know what I’m doing, and I don’t know what to do otherwise until the People wake up.”
“You couldn’t pardon me?” asked Manning as sweetly as possible. She had her blonde wig on now. She gave him the duck face.
The President dropped his head in frustration. “They would just get rid of me and put you back in prison, man. You know this…you know the plan…” The President stopped and held his breath. Oh shit. He looked up. Manning was gone.
Thursday, December 26, 2013
Monday, December 23, 2013
Chapter 44 (ver. 1.0)
The President awoke in a chair, bound and gagged. Oh shit…
It was dark. The room was small, and the only light came from beneath the door. Was he still in the White House? He doubted it, but then again, was he even awake? He was just about to dig his index fingernail into the cuticle of his thumb to check, when the doorknob turned. A man entered and stood silhouetted in the low light. The President could barely see his face, but once his eyes adjusted, he recognized him from somewhere.
“Why have you been communicating with our enemies?” asked the man in the doorway.
The President focused on his face. How did he know him? His memory was phenomenal, and he never forgot a face…so what was going on?
“Why have you been communicating with our enemies?” the man asked again.
“What do you mean?” he responded. “I don’t know who you are, so I wouldn’t know who ‘our’ refers to, therefore I have no context of what ‘enemies’ means to you.”
“I’ll ask once more, and if I don’t get the truth, I will help you remember.” The man stayed in the doorway. “Why have you been communicating with our enemies?”
The President closed his eyes and prayed: God, I don’t know what’s going on, but I trust you. I trust you implicitly, and I trust you will see me through this illusion.
The man stepped forward and slapped the President. That snapped him out of his prayers, but he remained calm. I can do nothing on my own, but I trust you God. He began to recite the 23rd Psalm: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”
The man sighed and left the room.
“He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.” The President’s mind raced, his thoughts kept trying to rationalize the situation or remember who the man was, but he stayed the course: “He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.”
The man walked back into the room carrying a syringe.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”
The man rolled up the President’s sleeve and injected him.
“Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.”
The man stepped back into the doorway, tucking the needle away.
“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.” The President took a big breath and exhaled it slowly. Ahhh, that’s much better. “Now, what did you want?”
“Why have you been communicating with our enemies?”
The President looked directly into the man’s eyes and said, “because Jesus said, ‘love thine enemies,’ and the more I practice that philosophy, the more I realize, I have no enemies, only misguided brothers and sisters who need help.”
The man radiated disgust. “Does that mean you are no longer abiding by our agreement?”
Agreement? thought the President. How do I know this man, and what was our agreement? “As long as we agreed to a harmonious nation and an evolving planet, I don’t see why I wouldn’t abide.”
The man looked slightly perplexed, “You really don’t remember…” He disappeared around the corner. The president heard the sound of rubber wheels rolling closer. The man pushed a metal cart into the doorway, arranged a small flat screen tv and turned on the power.
A video played…the President watched himself walk into a room similar to the one he was in now and sit down in front of a big screen. Other men he didn’t recognize sat around him. On the big screen played the Zapruder film of JFK’s assassination. After a quick transition, Martin Luther King came next, and then the killing of Bobby Kennedy filled the screen.
“All of these men were threats to ‘national security’,” said the man in the doorway. “If you want to remain president, you must protect our national security. If you choose to go against us, we will protect our interests and make sure you do not succeed. This is the way it always has been: your job is to protect the reputation of the government you represent. You must keep the People trusting us, so we may keep order. Without order, there is chaos. If at any time, you find yourself questioning the official narrative, remember your job…remember your family…remember your life and how lucky you are to be alive.”
The 23rd Psalm keep replaying through the President’s mind over and over: Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me…
It was dark. The room was small, and the only light came from beneath the door. Was he still in the White House? He doubted it, but then again, was he even awake? He was just about to dig his index fingernail into the cuticle of his thumb to check, when the doorknob turned. A man entered and stood silhouetted in the low light. The President could barely see his face, but once his eyes adjusted, he recognized him from somewhere.
“Why have you been communicating with our enemies?” asked the man in the doorway.
The President focused on his face. How did he know him? His memory was phenomenal, and he never forgot a face…so what was going on?
“Why have you been communicating with our enemies?” the man asked again.
“What do you mean?” he responded. “I don’t know who you are, so I wouldn’t know who ‘our’ refers to, therefore I have no context of what ‘enemies’ means to you.”
“I’ll ask once more, and if I don’t get the truth, I will help you remember.” The man stayed in the doorway. “Why have you been communicating with our enemies?”
The President closed his eyes and prayed: God, I don’t know what’s going on, but I trust you. I trust you implicitly, and I trust you will see me through this illusion.
The man stepped forward and slapped the President. That snapped him out of his prayers, but he remained calm. I can do nothing on my own, but I trust you God. He began to recite the 23rd Psalm: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”
The man sighed and left the room.
“He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.” The President’s mind raced, his thoughts kept trying to rationalize the situation or remember who the man was, but he stayed the course: “He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.”
The man walked back into the room carrying a syringe.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”
The man rolled up the President’s sleeve and injected him.
“Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.”
The man stepped back into the doorway, tucking the needle away.
“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.” The President took a big breath and exhaled it slowly. Ahhh, that’s much better. “Now, what did you want?”
“Why have you been communicating with our enemies?”
The President looked directly into the man’s eyes and said, “because Jesus said, ‘love thine enemies,’ and the more I practice that philosophy, the more I realize, I have no enemies, only misguided brothers and sisters who need help.”
The man radiated disgust. “Does that mean you are no longer abiding by our agreement?”
Agreement? thought the President. How do I know this man, and what was our agreement? “As long as we agreed to a harmonious nation and an evolving planet, I don’t see why I wouldn’t abide.”
The man looked slightly perplexed, “You really don’t remember…” He disappeared around the corner. The president heard the sound of rubber wheels rolling closer. The man pushed a metal cart into the doorway, arranged a small flat screen tv and turned on the power.
A video played…the President watched himself walk into a room similar to the one he was in now and sit down in front of a big screen. Other men he didn’t recognize sat around him. On the big screen played the Zapruder film of JFK’s assassination. After a quick transition, Martin Luther King came next, and then the killing of Bobby Kennedy filled the screen.
“All of these men were threats to ‘national security’,” said the man in the doorway. “If you want to remain president, you must protect our national security. If you choose to go against us, we will protect our interests and make sure you do not succeed. This is the way it always has been: your job is to protect the reputation of the government you represent. You must keep the People trusting us, so we may keep order. Without order, there is chaos. If at any time, you find yourself questioning the official narrative, remember your job…remember your family…remember your life and how lucky you are to be alive.”
The 23rd Psalm keep replaying through the President’s mind over and over: Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me…
Friday, December 13, 2013
Space & Abe tha' Babe - "Born by the River" (live at the Gramophone)
Space & Abe tha' Babe - "Born by the River" (live at the Gramophone) from lincolnelson on Vimeo.
[hook]I was born by the mighty Mississippi in fact, where the
nation's most dangerous city is at, they say it's
home of where the guns, thugs and drugs is at, but thoughts of
my home, don't bring no bad memories back...[x2]
[Space the Cashdronaut]
They say it's
St. Louis Blues cause it's St. Louis, Misery, so
niggas off the court house steps, in my ci-ity.
Lemme give you history: built on the banks of the
shitty Mississi-ippi, cops watch the block so we
get our money quick-ily, if not you get popped, and I
do mean it literally. I'm talkin' to you straight, no
metaphors or similes, my peeps in Atlanta, New
York, I know you're feelin' me, dropped that lady in her own
spot, popped in '93, pitiful life, shot the
day before he tied the knot, widowed his wife, I know what
it's like. Forever peace, Katt, I still ain't speaking on
that, and fuck niggas who thought Committee'd be weaked by
that, just stronger, so now, we go harder, more
hunger, we stay at the table longer and eat like
boss, so we was taught no manners when we was brought up,
born as the nigga with the goal to get the dough and not
shot up (click, BLOW!)
[Abe] Put your sawed-off away Space!
[hook]
[Abe tha Babe]
When I heard the news, it was new to me.
Is it true? Not likely. Don't a-
gree what you see and less of what they write,
most importantly, don't believe the hype.
(Why?) I've seen my fair share of
crime yeah, asking crack-heads for a
dimebag, but it's really 'bout being
in the wrong place at the wrong time,
but if you're out in Kirkwood or
Webster or west of Lind-
berg and Manchester, I
bet you crime won't catch ya.
(Why's that?) I live in Brentwood, where the
neighborhood's been good, a little too
good. Cops make a livin' givin'
tickets for going 1 over the speed limit.
(Damn!) But I bet you think,
they might just let you drink,
in the streets since Budweiser
owns damn near everything,
that's cause they began in old bling,
so they can get those things,
well all except nose rings,
and a West County Metro Link,
cause that's a real danger,
for some under cover race haters,
suddenly your block's got strangers, and
Northside's practically a neighbor.
(Whoops!) Don't come 'round here,
unless you drive the truck that delivers beer,
and don't be queer, stay in the
Central West End and don't come near.
Thursday, December 12, 2013
"I Owe My Soul" performed live by J-Toth from Hoth at the Gramophone in St. Louis, Missouri
Jonathan Toth from Hoth - "I Owe my Soul" (live at the Gramophone) from lincolnelson on Vimeo.
You load 16 tons of gold, that’s a lot, but
16 tons of rock is just not…
You load 16 tons of gold, that’s a lot, but
16 tons of rock is just rock…
Whether flippin’ burgers, or committin’ murders, yer
not getting paid ‘til you finish servin’…
When yer usin’ debit or pursuin’ credit,
some dude’s getting paid off you, cause he invented it…
What happens in the government stays in the government,
if leaks burst the dam, there’ll be no recoverin’…
It’s not surprisin’ the price of gold’s risin’,
Acquirin’ it cheap, now they want you to buy it…
The 10 commandments say ‘thou shalt not,’
unless yer in the military, it don’t count…
So yer packin’ guns just for havin’ some fun,
how long will it take ‘til you tag someone?
If you eat their food without readin’ the news, you’ll
probably never know what they’re feedin’ to you…
I owe my soul to the company…
Video by Jeremy Faust and Lincoln Nelson
BUY THE CD ALBUM OR VINYL EP OR DIGITAL DOWNLOAD at TheFrozenFoodSection.com
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
"Hold On" performed live by J-Toth from Hoth at the Gramophone in St. Louis, Missouri
Hold On (et tu brutes?) (live at the Gramophone) from lincolnelson on Vimeo.
The sky is falling,
that economic high is stalling,
the IRS is appalling,
at least political activism is sprawling.
My hairline is crawling,
the GOP keeps brawling,
just a bunch of old white men bawling,.
(knock, knock) Sir, the FBI is calling.
The election was a small thing,
especially that Ron Paul thing,
Romney wanted to be all king,
but the country was all me.
The NSA is trawling,
our own people of all things,
maybe their covert dawdling,
means our infrastructure needs some overhauling.
[break]
What would you do to save the day today?
There’s no excuse and no one else to blame,
but could you change?
Is there any other way?
We gotta have national security,
even though it's practically tyranny,
the TSA's tactical searching sprees,
alienate travelers currently.
The FED masters are perjuring,
themselves with their vanishing currency,
someone's on the take certainly,
I tried the banks, but "Mum's the word" it seems.
I shouldn't take it so personally,
secret service makes sure there's no hurting me,
but what if they don't work for me,
like Kennedy's men when they turned to leave,
and watched his limo turn the street,
that would be his last turn to breathe?
Did they even know they were murdering
the last man to try to change this murder machine?
[break]
Sorry for the perseveration,
but this man deserves commemoration,
some will forever hate him,
but they were probably in on his assassination,
or they didn't know his fascination,
with ridding our country of an aberration,
within our own government station,
it turned out, we had a status quo infestation,
we needed vaccinations,
to cure the sickness in habitation,
it's like a contagion,
that continues on inside my administration,
they make me look I'm complacent,
that change is one big fabrication,
we'll see by the next inauguration,
if I stick to my guns or fly off the reservation.
[break]
Never gonna trust them again…hold on.
“I run the military if you want that beef.”
Video by Jeremy Faust
BUY THE CD ALBUM OR VINYL EP OR DIGITAL DOWNLOAD at TheFrozenFoodSection.com
Sunday, December 8, 2013
The US Stock Market in a Nutshell...
This is the Stock Market:
1st - Someone sets the pace, and that pace will be conservative. Let's call it one second (saying "Mis-sis-sip-pi ONE") very slowly. That is the equivalent a heartbeat on Wall Street. Now, when it beats like that, everyone who wants to play can get in sync with it and make money. How do you make extra money? Figure out how to be ahead of sync by 1/1000 of a second faster. Why? If you know things faster than the rest of the competition (insider info), you profit.
2nd - So now the pace quickens: (saying "Mis-sis-sip-pi TWO" but not so slowly). Then, just when everyone's getting accustomed to this newer upbeat rhythm, you take it up another notch: 1/100 of a second, and as long as you are 'in the know,' your business benefits with advance information.
3rd - NOW. The pace is speeding up: it's "Mis-sis-sip-pi THREE," but at a brisk pace, and everyone's excited because money is being made more quickly. THEN, you make the party more exciting, and you go all-in again: you stay ahead of sync by 1/10th a second: BOOM! You profit again, before anyone else (except your close buddies) can get in on it.
4th - WHOA. The market is humming. Money is flying back and forth, forth and back almost hypnotic-like...then, you go for broke, and change the rhythm again. Then "Mis-sis-sip-pi FOUR," is really a second behind your actual time: zero seconds.
5th - Uh-Oh...the whole world is reeling. Money is circulating so fast, no one can measure it in real time. People are becoming billionaires and then losing it all in a heartbeat when: YOU AND YOUR ASSOCIATES DECIDE TO PULL ALL YOUR MONEY OUT AT THE SAME TIME, BECAUSE THE CURRENT STATE OF THE ECONOMY IS GOING TOO FAST, AND IT'S NOT SUSTAINABLE...(coordinated so you make out without a loss, because you are 'in the know') so GUESS WHAT? It's time to reset:
Re-invest and repeat 1st step.
If you want proof, examine the Stock Market crashes from 1800s thru today. Notice the lack of crashes during Glass-Steagall, and notice the resuming of crashes after Reagan's deregulation. If they can be a beat ahead of everyone, they can capitalize before anyone else...but real time is still real time. They can't fake it for long, and once it's pushed too far, they have to reset. If you're not 'in the know,' it's best not to play.
1st - Someone sets the pace, and that pace will be conservative. Let's call it one second (saying "Mis-sis-sip-pi ONE") very slowly. That is the equivalent a heartbeat on Wall Street. Now, when it beats like that, everyone who wants to play can get in sync with it and make money. How do you make extra money? Figure out how to be ahead of sync by 1/1000 of a second faster. Why? If you know things faster than the rest of the competition (insider info), you profit.
2nd - So now the pace quickens: (saying "Mis-sis-sip-pi TWO" but not so slowly). Then, just when everyone's getting accustomed to this newer upbeat rhythm, you take it up another notch: 1/100 of a second, and as long as you are 'in the know,' your business benefits with advance information.
3rd - NOW. The pace is speeding up: it's "Mis-sis-sip-pi THREE," but at a brisk pace, and everyone's excited because money is being made more quickly. THEN, you make the party more exciting, and you go all-in again: you stay ahead of sync by 1/10th a second: BOOM! You profit again, before anyone else (except your close buddies) can get in on it.
4th - WHOA. The market is humming. Money is flying back and forth, forth and back almost hypnotic-like...then, you go for broke, and change the rhythm again. Then "Mis-sis-sip-pi FOUR," is really a second behind your actual time: zero seconds.
5th - Uh-Oh...the whole world is reeling. Money is circulating so fast, no one can measure it in real time. People are becoming billionaires and then losing it all in a heartbeat when: YOU AND YOUR ASSOCIATES DECIDE TO PULL ALL YOUR MONEY OUT AT THE SAME TIME, BECAUSE THE CURRENT STATE OF THE ECONOMY IS GOING TOO FAST, AND IT'S NOT SUSTAINABLE...(coordinated so you make out without a loss, because you are 'in the know') so GUESS WHAT? It's time to reset:
Re-invest and repeat 1st step.
If you want proof, examine the Stock Market crashes from 1800s thru today. Notice the lack of crashes during Glass-Steagall, and notice the resuming of crashes after Reagan's deregulation. If they can be a beat ahead of everyone, they can capitalize before anyone else...but real time is still real time. They can't fake it for long, and once it's pushed too far, they have to reset. If you're not 'in the know,' it's best not to play.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
Chapter 43
Thanksgiving at the White House was always special. Pardoning two turkeys wasn’t as funny as the President had hoped, although it certainly generated a whole new slew of Assange/Manning memes, that was something. Then again, he wasn’t feeling particularly humorous lately but, it was Thanksgiving, grey skies are gonna clear up…grey hairs, not so much. The girls ran through the main hallway laughing. They are growing up so fast, he thought. I’m glad they’re still young enough to enjoy this old house…maybe that’s what I need. He tore off after them.
“Your old man’s still faster,” he yelled gaining on them. They cackled with delight and split up taking separate routes. He was about to follow Sasha when he noticed one of his aides standing in an adjoining doorway.
“Pete wants to see you sir, he’s holding an important call.”
“I’ll be right there,” said the President. He back-tracked to the office and took his time, calming his lungs.
Pete was waiting, his face taut. “Vladimir Putin’s on line one, B. It’s almost midnight in Moscow. I don’t know what he wants, but he seems to be in good spirits. Might just be the ‘wodka’.”
“I’ll take it here Pete, thanks.” The President inhaled one last breath to compose himself. “Zdravstvuyte tovarishch, happy Thanksgiving. How’s mother Russia?”
The phone clicked and he heard some muffled sounds, then, “hello Mr. President.” It wasn’t Putin. “I trust all is well with you and your family. It’s just another day here in Russia. They don’t really do Thanksgiving.”
It was Snowden. Wow…talk about unexpected. Maintain poise. “Yes, well it’s a bit chilly, but the sun’s out. How’s Moscow?”
“Frigid, but my hosts are being as warm as they can be. How are your hosts?”
The President was unsure of how to answer. “What do you want?”
Snowden jumped right on in, “I want to prepare you sir. I have some information you need.”
“Oh?” asked the President. “You can’t relay it to my aides? It’s kind of a big day around here…”
“Your safety and the lives of Americans are in jeopardy. I’d rather not risk talking to another robot. Can I borrow you for ten minutes?”
The President sighed, “yes. What’s up?”
“If you hadn’t figured it out by now, the 2008 financial meltdown wasn’t an accident, it was planned. It started with the Reagan deregulation and Clinton’s repealing of Glass-Steagall, but during W’s tenure, it snowballed. The big banks avalanched into a kind of organized corruption we’ve never seen before. I know this because the NSA, the IRS and the SEC all did our homework and investigated it once you were inaugurated. We found extensive fraud, market manipulation, secret deals between the families, pension funds loaded with fake documents, and average people’s life savings sucked dry…all because ‘greed is good,’ right?”
The image of Michael Douglas’ latest PSA denouncing his role in Wall Street came to the President’s mind.
“Well, they went further,” continued Snowden. “After looting everything, they colluded for one last insurance policy, and withdrew all their money at the same time, taking a third of the world’s wealth with them. That’s blackmail Mr. President. If we were to prosecute them, they were content to let the system fall apart. Our bosses had to make a decision about what to do, and we backed down for the sake of keeping the system in place. We allowed these families to run game on us, and then we turned a blind eye out of fear.”
“Sure,” said the President, “but it’s all been fixed now.”
“No,” Snowden paused, “it’s not. Have you ever been in an abusive relationship Mr. President? Do know what bullies do? They win and you lose over and over, until you stand up to them. These families are going to do the exact same thing they did at the beginning of your presidency again, and soon. That is a fact. The question is: what are you going to do about it?”
The President was at a loss. What the hell am I doing talking to this kid? he thought.
“Do you think I’m a thief Mr. President…or some kind of spy?” asked Snowden. “Do you think it’s fair that I’m being hunted by the most effective killing machine in the world while these gangsters walk around free? Is this civilization, or are we still cavemen?”
“What do you recommend son?”
“Take a stand, man!” Snowden spoke passionately, “don’t let America be blackmailed again, call their bluff, they're going to do it again anyway, and if you give in to them again, you're just becoming complicit. They’re using their propaganda machine to make it look like it’s your fault. They’re using white America’s fear of color to shift their hatred of your virtue to the racists. They’re assassinating your character and making money off it!”
“It sounds so simple,” said the President, “but it’s not.”
“No,” replied Snowden, “but this is.” He shuffled some papers and continued, “I have something that might be of interest to you. Since the NSA, the IRS and the SEC wouldn’t prosecute these bastards, some of us decided instead to keep a list of those involved. We call it the ‘black book.’ It’s a collection of names, bank accounts, and all other pertinent info on the people who stole from the rest of us.”
The president felt a wave of heat spread across his face. “What good is that to me?”
“You don’t want to know who’s stabbing you in the back Mr. President?” asked Snowden. “You don’t want to know who’s robbing your children’s future? I can’t believe you are that indifferent.”
“I don’t mean to sound indifferent, but I don’t have the kind of power needed to bring this to the attention of the People.”
“Really?” asked Snowden. “With a few keystrokes, I can upload the black book online for every hacker, activist or con-man to take a gander at. Wouldn’t that garner some attention?”
“Yes,” said the President, cracking a smile, “yes, it would.”
Snowden paused. “I hope you know I’m a patriot by now Mr. President. It’s a sad day when those in favor of truth are persecuted by those with power built on lies…but lies are like sand…and it’s tough to build a strong foundation on sand, if not impossible. Eventually, you have to start over.”
“Yes,” said the President, “you do.”
“Happy Thanksgiving sir. I hope I can meet you sometime under better circumstances.”
“Happy Thanksgiving to you too, son. Stay safe, and stay alive.”
“Your old man’s still faster,” he yelled gaining on them. They cackled with delight and split up taking separate routes. He was about to follow Sasha when he noticed one of his aides standing in an adjoining doorway.
“Pete wants to see you sir, he’s holding an important call.”
“I’ll be right there,” said the President. He back-tracked to the office and took his time, calming his lungs.
Pete was waiting, his face taut. “Vladimir Putin’s on line one, B. It’s almost midnight in Moscow. I don’t know what he wants, but he seems to be in good spirits. Might just be the ‘wodka’.”
“I’ll take it here Pete, thanks.” The President inhaled one last breath to compose himself. “Zdravstvuyte tovarishch, happy Thanksgiving. How’s mother Russia?”
The phone clicked and he heard some muffled sounds, then, “hello Mr. President.” It wasn’t Putin. “I trust all is well with you and your family. It’s just another day here in Russia. They don’t really do Thanksgiving.”
It was Snowden. Wow…talk about unexpected. Maintain poise. “Yes, well it’s a bit chilly, but the sun’s out. How’s Moscow?”
“Frigid, but my hosts are being as warm as they can be. How are your hosts?”
The President was unsure of how to answer. “What do you want?”
Snowden jumped right on in, “I want to prepare you sir. I have some information you need.”
“Oh?” asked the President. “You can’t relay it to my aides? It’s kind of a big day around here…”
“Your safety and the lives of Americans are in jeopardy. I’d rather not risk talking to another robot. Can I borrow you for ten minutes?”
The President sighed, “yes. What’s up?”
“If you hadn’t figured it out by now, the 2008 financial meltdown wasn’t an accident, it was planned. It started with the Reagan deregulation and Clinton’s repealing of Glass-Steagall, but during W’s tenure, it snowballed. The big banks avalanched into a kind of organized corruption we’ve never seen before. I know this because the NSA, the IRS and the SEC all did our homework and investigated it once you were inaugurated. We found extensive fraud, market manipulation, secret deals between the families, pension funds loaded with fake documents, and average people’s life savings sucked dry…all because ‘greed is good,’ right?”
The image of Michael Douglas’ latest PSA denouncing his role in Wall Street came to the President’s mind.
“Well, they went further,” continued Snowden. “After looting everything, they colluded for one last insurance policy, and withdrew all their money at the same time, taking a third of the world’s wealth with them. That’s blackmail Mr. President. If we were to prosecute them, they were content to let the system fall apart. Our bosses had to make a decision about what to do, and we backed down for the sake of keeping the system in place. We allowed these families to run game on us, and then we turned a blind eye out of fear.”
“Sure,” said the President, “but it’s all been fixed now.”
“No,” Snowden paused, “it’s not. Have you ever been in an abusive relationship Mr. President? Do know what bullies do? They win and you lose over and over, until you stand up to them. These families are going to do the exact same thing they did at the beginning of your presidency again, and soon. That is a fact. The question is: what are you going to do about it?”
The President was at a loss. What the hell am I doing talking to this kid? he thought.
“Do you think I’m a thief Mr. President…or some kind of spy?” asked Snowden. “Do you think it’s fair that I’m being hunted by the most effective killing machine in the world while these gangsters walk around free? Is this civilization, or are we still cavemen?”
“What do you recommend son?”
“Take a stand, man!” Snowden spoke passionately, “don’t let America be blackmailed again, call their bluff, they're going to do it again anyway, and if you give in to them again, you're just becoming complicit. They’re using their propaganda machine to make it look like it’s your fault. They’re using white America’s fear of color to shift their hatred of your virtue to the racists. They’re assassinating your character and making money off it!”
“It sounds so simple,” said the President, “but it’s not.”
“No,” replied Snowden, “but this is.” He shuffled some papers and continued, “I have something that might be of interest to you. Since the NSA, the IRS and the SEC wouldn’t prosecute these bastards, some of us decided instead to keep a list of those involved. We call it the ‘black book.’ It’s a collection of names, bank accounts, and all other pertinent info on the people who stole from the rest of us.”
The president felt a wave of heat spread across his face. “What good is that to me?”
“You don’t want to know who’s stabbing you in the back Mr. President?” asked Snowden. “You don’t want to know who’s robbing your children’s future? I can’t believe you are that indifferent.”
“I don’t mean to sound indifferent, but I don’t have the kind of power needed to bring this to the attention of the People.”
“Really?” asked Snowden. “With a few keystrokes, I can upload the black book online for every hacker, activist or con-man to take a gander at. Wouldn’t that garner some attention?”
“Yes,” said the President, cracking a smile, “yes, it would.”
Snowden paused. “I hope you know I’m a patriot by now Mr. President. It’s a sad day when those in favor of truth are persecuted by those with power built on lies…but lies are like sand…and it’s tough to build a strong foundation on sand, if not impossible. Eventually, you have to start over.”
“Yes,” said the President, “you do.”
“Happy Thanksgiving sir. I hope I can meet you sometime under better circumstances.”
“Happy Thanksgiving to you too, son. Stay safe, and stay alive.”
Monday, November 18, 2013
NEW VIDEO: Questioning Integrity from CONSPIRACY THEORY by J-Toth from Hoth
Questioning Integrity (Banks)-Jonathan Toth from Hoth from lincolnelson on Vimeo.
Camera work and video production by Lincoln Nelson of AdamantCreative.com
1. I Owe My Soul (to the company)
You load 16 tons of gold, that’s a lot, but
16 tons of rock is just rock…
Whether flippin’ burgers, or committin’ murders, yer
not getting paid ‘til you finish servin’…
When yer usin’ debit or pursuin’ credit,
some dude’s getting paid off you, cause he invented it…
What happens in the government stays in the government,
if leaks burst the dam, there’ll be no recoverin’…
It’s not surprisin’ the price of gold’s risin’,
Acquirin’ it cheap, now they want you to buy it…
The 10 commandments say ‘thou shalt not,’
unless yer in the military, it don’t count…
So yer packin’ guns just for havin’ some fun,
how long will it take ‘til you tag someone?
If you eat their food without readin’ the news, you’ll
probably never know what they’re feedin’ to you…
I owe my soul to the company…
“I believe in both spirit and substance, our tax system has come to be un-American.”
“The country’s taxes must be fixed and I know what to do with it, if you think you’re paying too much now, just wait ‘til I get through with it.”
“What happens if your own government is using more force and more coercion on its own citizens for the purpose of achieving it’s political ends. Is that government engaging in terrorism?”
“American people expect us to protect them and protect their civil liberties. I’m going to do that.”
“What is being sold to the American people today as ‘Americanism,’ if you peel off the label you find so much similarity to what we were fighting against, when we were fighting communism, Nazism and fascism.”
“What does the government do with all the money we give them in taxes? If we pay the salaries of the congressmen and the senators, we’re supporting them aren’t we? Well then why can’t we list them as dependents and deduct them?”
“The desires of the People really have no consequence. They go out and they vote, it doesn’t make any difference which candidate they elect.”
“We’ve been brainwashed. People have been told, we need this income tax system to fund government. How did we fund government from 1776 to 1913?”
“Mr. Curtis, are there programs that can be used to secretly fix elections?”
“Yes.”
“This is absolutely Orwellian. It’s talking about big brother looking over your shoulder at every moment.”
BUY THE CD ALBUM OR VINYL EP OR DIGITAL DOWNLOAD at TheFrozenFoodSection.com
2. Questioning Integrity (banks)
“Just listen to me. You have the problem, and you’re trying to put the blame on me? What are you getting off at?”
“No, no…”
“Yes, you are. You’re trying to put the blame on me and question MY INTEGRITY?”
“No!”
“Yes, you are young man! You’re questioning my integrity? You’re the one that better take a look at the integrity!”
“I just wanted to get it cleared up, because I don’t wanna go out here thinking bad things about you like this.”
“Well I’m thinking bad things about you right now!”
So…the deficit is my fault?
Oh…that credit was in my vault?
No. Your negligence is trifold:
try the Fed, BOA and Diebold.
Banks, get paid to collect it,
tanks, get made to protect it,
thanks…is still expected,
even if you get less of what you invested.
TARP, a funny way putting it:
The Art of Receiving Profit they shouldn’t get.
If we were smart, we’d stop and put it in
something that makes money and not further debt.
Instead, they act crazy and laugh harder,
getting away with financial manslaughter.
If it stays this way, or goes any farther,
we may have to flush the baby with the bathwater.
“You’re trying to put the blame on me and question MY INTEGRITY?”
Yes, that exactly what I’m saying,
the system’s a mess and you’ve been playing,
confess your crime, and begin laying
tracks for some currency worth maintaining.
Greenbacks, last time I checked
these stacks held value, not less.
Old Abe saved us, and not them,
then John Wilkes Booth was sent to stop him,
and he did. The banks were so glib.
There’s no use crying over spilt milk,
but he never got to spend that quid. Be-
fore he could admit he got paid, he got kilt.
The USA prospered from those days,
until the banks went back to their old ways.
The Fed Act was passed to make crime pay.
The last president to act was JFK…
“I just wanted to get it cleared up, cause I don’t wanna go out here thinking bad things about you like this.”
“Well I’m thinking bad things about you right now!”
DANGER! Those guys hold a lot of anger,
old school paranoia like cliff hangers.
Is it the coke, or the thought of strangers
slicing our pie with a lot of fingers?
The problem is, that’s legal.
You’re supposed to respect that eagle,
but when Clinton repealed Glass-Steagall,
you went from kinda greedy to flat out evil.
When your sole job, is to hold cash,
how long does it take ‘til you can’t hold
back, from taking all that, and wanting more,
‘til your soul turns black and you start world
wars, and it’s still not enough, and you push and
shove, and you only get sex, and you never get
love, and you make twin towers blow up,
all for just a few more bucks? That’s fucked up…
“I don’t have to sit here and explain this to you. Get out of here!”
“Ok…he’s fucking pissed dude! He just yelled the shit outta me! No, I know I gotta go back to my room, cause he is just pissed!”
"Be aware of it, don’t own it."
“As Rothschild said, ‘give me control of a nation’s money supply, and I care not who makes its laws.’ He knew that he and the other bankers would now control the laws of the nation. Government gave these bankers one of its more important powers and now had to borrow money from them and pay interest to finance the government. So the American people were forced to lower their standard of living and pay a graduated income tax to the government just so the government could give these bankers more profits.”
"Nations do not have to borrow, nations can create. The problem is, that when a nation borrows from a bank, as Proverbs tells us, ‘the borrower becomes servant to the lender.’ That is not sovereignty. So what is the result? The nation becomes addicted to the loans, and the banks then have power over it, so you no longer have a sovereign democracy, you have rule by banks.”
BUY THE CD ALBUM OR VINYL EP OR DIGITAL DOWNLOAD at TheFrozenFoodSection.com
3. Hold On (et tu brutes?)
The sky is falling,
that economic high is stalling,
the IRS is appalling,
at least political activism is sprawling.
My hairline is crawling,
the GOP keeps brawling,
just a bunch of old white men bawling,.
(knock, knock) Sir, the FBI is calling.
The election was a small thing,
especially that Ron Paul thing,
Romney wanted to be all king,
but the country was all me.
The NSA is trawling,
our own people of all things,
maybe their covert dawdling,
means our infrastructure needs some overhauling.
[break]
What would you do to save the day today?
There’s no excuse and no one else to blame,
but could you change?
Is there any other way?
We gotta have national security,
even though it's practically tyranny,
the TSA's tactical searching sprees,
alienate travelers currently.
The FED masters are perjuring,
themselves with their vanishing currency,
someone's on the take certainly,
I tried the banks, but "Mum's the word" it seems.
I shouldn't take it so personally,
secret service makes sure there's no hurting me,
but what if they don't work for me,
like Kennedy's men when they turned to leave,
and watched his limo turn the street,
that would be his last turn to breathe?
Did they even know they were murdering
the last man to try to change this murder machine?
[break]
Sorry for the perseveration,
but this man deserves commemoration,
some will forever hate him,
but they were probably in on his assassination,
or they didn't know his fascination,
with ridding our country of an aberration,
within our own government station,
it turned out, we had a status quo infestation,
we needed vaccinations,
to cure the sickness in habitation,
it's like a contagion,
that continues on inside my administration,
they make me look I'm complacent,
that change is one big fabrication,
we'll see by the next inauguration,
if I stick to my guns or fly off the reservation.
[break]
Never gonna trust them again…hold on.
“I run the military if you want that beef.”
BUY THE CD ALBUM OR VINYL EP OR DIGITAL DOWNLOAD at TheFrozenFoodSection.com
Saturday, November 16, 2013
4. Conflict of Interest feat. Victa Newman of Tax Free Maphia
“For most of the guys, killing just got to be accepted. Murder was the only way that everybody stayed in line. You got out of line, you got whacked, everybody knew the rules. But sometimes even if people didn’t get out of line they got whacked. The hits just became a habit for some of the guys. Guys would get into arguments over nothing and before you knew it, one of them was dead.”
[Victa Newman of Tax Free Maphia]
I heard this nigga planning something. Bomb first, move quick,
rush up in your residence and bloodstain your blueprints.
Then set fire and expire all the liars, yeah I
had to rock a buyer, alibi smooth as Kaiser round the
lions and piranhas, glocks, choppers and AR’s, stacks of
dollars for the lawyers come from profit from the product, not a
Oscar winning genre, no Brian De Palma, just
Teflon armor, Sun Tzu with a blocka. See we
marijuana scholars, cool with the rude shottas, here to
rumble for my partner like World Cup soccer, disregard
your white flag, blaze fire at your empire,
warning shots spray like a ‘scotta, whoa tiger. See I
learn to make ‘em burn from the niggas with the packs of coke,
night club strapped up, no won’t do the plaxico.
Main event, Rick Flair shit, straight suplex,
dim lights at midnight, training in the tool shed. If
ever there’s a problem, these niggas turn monster,
ain’t nothing to it, St. Louis niggas love sqabbing. They
say the truth hurts, I know something much worse, get
bu-bu-buck down by the fu-fu-fireworks. We are here.
[J-Toth from Hoth]
Yeah, so we hear,
“Tax Free” and showing no fear.
Impressive sir. Well, I’m the
tax man, from the IRS sir.
With all due respect sir,
may I interject with some judicial conjecture?
I’m guessing this whole album’s evidence over
stolen music to which you’ve confessed sir.
“Keep it real,” correct sir?
Hip hop fans would never settle for less sir.
You wouldn’t speak on things just to impress sir,
right? You really mean what you suggest sir?
Well guess what? You owe me, boy,
from the rims to the dodie, boy,
from the Tim’s to the Kobe’s, boy.
This is St. Louis, Missouri, so show me boy.
Move it, show and prove it, all three,
Victa Newman, Geno and Tommy Monte.
You can’t hide from the man, I’m all seeing.
You stand a better chance of occupying Wall Street.
Don’t go there boy,
cause you know I’ll go there boy.
It’s all depends on what you know there boy,
and who, you can get to load their toys,
run up in your crib and show their toys,
take all of your whips, so there’s no more toys,
no more joy. If you still wanna
bitch, I can get your mama and…[gun shot]
“You got out of line, you got whacked.”
You can’t shoot me…I work for the government…it’s not right…
“Our income tax system represents the most pernicious form of tyrany. It is the greatest hoax ever perpetrated by government against the working men and women of America.”
“American citizens have been asking the IRS to specifically provide them with the underlying legal foundation upon which they administer and enforce the personal income tax laws in our country.”
“I have not found that law. I’ve asked congress. We’ve asked a lot of people in the IRS, IRS commissioners, helpers…they can’t answer, because if they answer, the American people are gonna know, this whole thing is a fraud.”
“There is no law that requires the average American to pay a direct unapportioned tax on their labor in compensation for services. There is no law.”
“The provisions of the 16th Ammendment conferred ‘no new power of taxation.’”
“Congress tried to enact an income tax in 1894. The Supreme Court said that’s unconstitutional. When the Supreme Court says something is unconstitutional, it’s unconstitutional. They tried again in 1913, and the Supreme Court said, ‘the 16 Ammendment conferred no new taxation,’ so if they didn’t have it then, and they didn’t get it, they don’t have it.”
BUY THE CD ALBUM OR VINYL EP OR DIGITAL DOWNLOAD at TheFrozenFoodSection.com
Friday, November 15, 2013
5. Karl Rove (aka the lynchpin)
“There is no constitutional basis for a tax on the wages on Americans living and working in the 50 states of the Union.”
It was a dark age that I came to,
but don’t worry, I won’t blame you,
I bring more pain for the game,
Mind if I play thru?
That was a rhetorical question…
if you don’t know.
I’m Karl Rove,
Get hip quick, or get hips broke.
I have an appetite, first course
whistle blower lips, second course,
hearts of traitors, know thine enemy
treat ‘em like animals, eat ‘em like cannibals
Snitching will not be tolerated. Ask Ashley Turton,
John Wheeler III and William Colby,
yes your honor, I ate ‘em,
now you know me,
Karl Rove, roaming the globe,
simultaneously creating, disseminating and
dismembering al-Qaeda, with CIAida
the real reason the Taliban hates us.
Keeping governments unstable is no fable
It’s how I make the bread and butter for my table,
trading, world trade center secrets,
keeping rich peeps rich, as long as I get my cut bitch,
All for the sake of national security,
I kill in the name of my father,
you will too, when you work with me,
you’re in it with the rest of us or don’t bother,
whenever you go, it’s because I say go… so…
GO, NOW…
only way to save yourself is get tipped like a cow.
The economy is my fault…why? I said…halt.
Staying on a “need to know” basis is how to escape this,
most “need not”…sorry,
commiting Hari kari’s, what probably killed him dead,
caught up in enough oxycontin to kill the Fed,
what a Rush, sick in the head. The limbo of Limbaugh,
dumbass, fatfuck, cunt-nigger-faggot,
get us all pinched in a jiff…but not this kid,
it’s Karl Rove, aka the lynchpin,
I’ll be here last, atop this pile of cash.
No one can fuck with my ass,
I don’t speak fake peanuts,
I’m talkin’ gold bars that float fast.
It’s just not new to me, I’m swimming with the fishes, but
they’re all nude to me, like Sushi,
and I’m gonna eat. There’s nothing you can do to me. I got a
wet suit, made of diplomatic immunity…
don’t hate, congratulate American ingenuity.
WINNING at any and all costs,
cause America wouldn’t survive the loss…and
I won’t have it, not while I’m boss.
Contact my satellite celly, area code 666, extention 911,
I’ll be playing Led Zepplin on my stairway to heaven,
ever since the Skull and Bones made me a reverend,
the banks call me lucky number seven.
Best on the DC tax hike, but none were paid by this bad guy.
Karl Rove, roaming the globe, but where does he go?
Nobody knows…not even the shadow, cause even he knows
you don’t rock the boat…and guess what?
Cement shoes don’t float.
“We are now going to progress to some steps that are a bit more difficult.”
BUY THE CD ALBUM OR VINYL EP OR DIGITAL DOWNLOAD at TheFrozenFoodSection.com
Thursday, November 14, 2013
666. Scary! (get the w)
“Ready, set, and begin.”
[knock, knock]
W: You wanted to see me Poppy?
HW: Yes Junior. It’s your turn to be president.
"Oh SHIT!"
W: Uhhh…you sure that’s a good idea Poppy?
HW: It’s your turn son. Make the family proud, don’t be a dickhead.
Become president? Scary!
Protect the country from terrorists? Scary!
Save myself from embarrassment? Dumb Scary!
John Stewart and Colbert are slick and uncaring!
Poppy when he’s angry? Scary!
Karl Rove his brain baby? Scary!
That old, white-haired Bush lady, sick scary!
Any average day in the life of Dick Cheney.
Vietnam was pretty scary, but
luckily my military career was miscarried,
Skull and Bones? Big and scary!
Back in school, they made me memorize dictionaries!
Saddam Hussein was real scary,
but we got him hanged, then he got real buried.
My mood swings were real varied, so they
put me on lithium when things got real hairy.
[break]
Bin Laden and his Muslims? Scary!
The People might become one? Scary!
If Republicans vote Ron Paul their number one,
All the shit I did’ll get undone? Real scary!
WMD’s? Yup, scary.
We got away with Iraq, but just barely.
Yellow cake ain’t fake, it’s just scary,
and we got a 9-11 license to hunt terror.
Sodium penothol? Stupid scary.
What I seen can’t be viewed in the library,
cause they’ll kill me. Death by something scary,
but at least it’ll be quick, they ain’t gonna tarry.
The big banks been scary,
way before the NRA hated on Jim Carrey,
way before JFK been carried off to
who knows where, but it ain’t no cemetery.
[break]
W: No shit this shit’s scary, but you know what’s more scary? There’s a shitstorm of shit coming in, and if the next administration ain’t one of us, it’s all gonna fall on them.
HW: You just might be right Junior.
BUY THE CD ALBUM OR VINYL EP OR DIGITAL DOWNLOAD at TheFrozenFoodSection.com