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Lawyers and Blackberries - Monday 25/07/11

Two observations today. Blackberries and the administration of justice.
Saw, or rather more accurately, noticed, my first ripe blackberry of this year. Why haven't I noticed them sooner? Because I haven't left the house in quite a number of days.

My second observation was this. Courts, to my thinking, closely resemble churches. And I do not feel through accident. The courts I have entered or seen have seating for the 'congregation' (plaintiff and defendant plus company). A Pulpit (Stand) Altar (Bench) and Icon (Crest of HM Government). This is no surprise at all. The Queen is sworn to uphold the laws of God.
Here is my conclusion. What alternative is there to a 'judge'? My answer is your spiritual leader. Who else better to administer the laws of God after the Queen herself than he whose life is dedicated to their study.
I for one would feel far more comfortable with a priest presiding than a burnt out jaded lawyer, whose kind are reported in the papers to have ruled that the courts should be secular and there is no room for religion in law. A funny belief if the laws of the land are founded upon the laws of God!
My question is this. Let us suppose I cause harm/injury/loss and /or break one of the 10 commandments (laws of God). The injured party swears an affidavit of truth and I am arrested. Now, instead of choosing to be tried in the de facto government courts where a fair trial is impossible due to a blatant conflict of interest (the prosecutor is generally employed by the government, as is the judge!), I choose instead to be tried in a church... Without the governments corrupt touch, I would stand a greater chance of the impartiality of those presiding and the involvement of the community among whom I reside.
This, as I understand it, is how 'justice' was served for thousands of years.
In truth, I could demand the Queen herself pass judgment in much the same way King Solomon in the Bible did.
I never intend to test this theory... but would be happy to should the occasion present itself...

M Jones

The Fickle Mob - Saturday 23/07/11

"If you want to make someone angry, tell him a lie; if you want to make him furious, tell him the truth.
All truth passes through three stages. First, it is ridiculed, second, it is violently opposed, and third, it is accepted as self evident." Arthur Schonpenhauer. Philosopher 1788-1860

"In a time of Universal deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act" - George Orwell.

The above quotes appear to be rooted in the truth they describe. Following a post on my blog entitled "Blood Before Breakfast - Friday 15/07/11" I witnessed an interesting reaction. The responses have been made by people who appear fearful and condemning through ignorance. Unfortunately due to just how foreign and alien the concept, they appear not to wish to research the theory thereby dispelling the doubt and fear they are gripped by. I could get upset by this, but through seeing the above I have to leave them to their choices. I don't seek nor desire approval. The truth does not require the same demands as the ego.

News of the Norwegian False Flag attack today. Mossad, Freemasons, Government, Royal Family... The usual suspects.
Europe on the brink of orchestrated financial implosion.
Why Norway? Why 'Right Wing'?
Because both oppose the agenda of the puppetmaster.

In a world where intelligence networks and secret police budgets command billions of pounds, I find it easier to believe acts of terrorism are permitted, even perpetrated by, governments in order to perpetuate fear and maintain control. So called 'terrorists' are created and credited. Different Mask, same face.

"I want everybody, to remember, why they need us! - Chancellor Adam Suttler, V For Vendetta.

Amazingly this was all forgotten as news of the death of a Ms Winehouse surfaced. Norwegians forgotten. The 53 plus human lives ended in a bullet train crash caused by a lightning strike in China not even a blip on the news radar. Just "RIP Wino" etc etc and of course the many jokes...
Now I share the sorrow at the passing of a human being irrelevant of status. My sorrow, however, is more profound by virtue of scale, for the lives taken in Norway. We're told a bomb took many, a man dressed as a policeman took the others (I for one have never trusted armed individuals irrespective of authority). One being had the comfort of passing in her own home... A comfort not afforded the multitude of others. All the above a minuscule detail relative to the lives ended by bombs and poverty.

How fickle the mob can be.

M Jones

The Gladiatōrēs Of Today - Thursday 21/07/11

I lose count of the sleepless nights that have past. Night has merged into day whilst I distract my awareness and presence by watching a series called Spartacus: Blood and Sand, and Spartacus: Gods of the Arena. This excessively violent and sexually explicit story serves to remind me of some sad and regrettable truths. It appears to me, through this graphic representation, and others like it on the topic, that little today stands to differentiate our society and the lives of that of our Roman ancestors who existed over two millennia before us. Slavery in all its horrid forms. Violence, wanton and needless continues to be perpetuated in crime and entertainment. Sexual intercourse and the blessed union of love debased and lowered to depths of depravity in manners our empirical forefathers pioneered.

Many today, as then, exist as Gladiators. Enslaved by a master of their choosing, doing battle to a select crowd. Each combatant seeking favour from the mob. Encountering foe and ally, vanquishing or falling to each alike in the delusion that we have to in order to 'get ahead'. Little regard is paid to the sanctity of life. Human or otherwise. Instead it is measured, not in gold coin as then, but in debt and promissory notes. Society does this openly and without shame, publishing lists of beings and their 'worth'. I look upon the fiction, yet see the truth contained within it.
The remedy I perceive to that world, is the same as for this. Stop fighting. If all would cease and instead choose and worship life over death, that flawed and hellish 'civilisation' that was Rome and is ours today would fade forever.

I have refrained from saying 'all' lest I stand guilty of making sweeping and all encompassing statements that deceive. Not all are Gladiators. Not all are the mob. Not everyone is easily distracted by the games and spectacles laid on by those who would seek to tighten their grip and control over us.
There are humans alive today who cannot, will not be controlled. They are not beasts nor barbarian savages of Ceasar's day. But true gods. Beings of Light. Their love and kindness far more potent and affecting than any act of aggression  or violence. No agent of oppressive Government or senate can ever best them.
I worship such beings. They are my gods. I believe in them and shall forevermore.

M Jones

The Return Of The Old Man - Wednesday 20/07/11

Received an email from an old friend. Our paths separated after school. He matured much quicker than I and our peers. This, at the time, earned him the title of 'Old Man'. His failure later on to attend our numerous and repetitive rebellious drinking and mischief sessions was the grounds for this childish view.
With retrospect, I see now that he was above this behaviour. Not in an aloof way, rather, an enlightened one. I speculate that he did not have the same need to 'rebel' as I and my fellows.
I spent a brilliant afternoon with him realising we now appear to walk a remarkably similar path. I obviously needed to learn important personal life lessons before our paths rejoined. I believe this explains my lack of a sense of loss regarding his absence. This is important to me when I remember how close and good a friend he was.
Our common ground and bond has, I believe, been restored through this encounter. I count him now as I did then. As a brother. A true and dear friend.

Namaste Al.

M Jones

In Bed With The Banksters - Monday 18/07/11

Decided, after a three week wait, to visit my shy police receptionist friend and see what has happened to the letter I submitted.
Took a video of what happened. In conclusion, they appear to condone the harassment of debtors by the banks. Again, the Sergeant made assumptions and false judgments but I accepted them as opinions...
According to Sergeant Ben D'Arcy 535, I am not within my rights to demand the name of an employee of HM Police Force, nor can I expect a written acknowledgement/reply should I file a crime report not deemed worthy of attention. Without explanation nor justification...

M Jones

We, Say, NO! - Saturday 16/07/11

There is immense joy to be found in discovering theory works in practice.
A few weeks ago, I heard the foster boy staying with Emma's mum was due to go to court. I had a chat with him, and advised him to tell the judge he did not accept his sentence. I left it upto him, take it or leave it. I was going only on a story in Mary Croft's book where the tactic had apparently been successful.
When I heard later that Levi had been given 2 months of something or other as 'punishment' I assumed he'd not done as I'd suggested. Turns out, I was wrong.
Through causal talk I learned he had told the judge he did not accept the sentence. The judge reportedly looked at him "funny" and Levi's solicitor is said to have laughed. The judge had initially sentenced Levi to 4 months, but after Levi had said what I had told him to, the judge halved the sentence to 2! When I pressed Levi as to why he hadn't again refused to accept the decision, he told me he kept quiet as he didn't think it would work again. A wise move in many respects, but potentially he could've gotten off scot free from what I've been led to believe.
Very interesting...

Was chuffed to see a copy of my "Save Slad" letter in the Stroud News And Journal.

Dear Sir/Madam,

I am writing regarding the proposed development of Land At Wades Farm, Vatch View, by Barratt Homes Bristol.

It is quite clear to me that the people and residents of Stroud have spoken. To my knowledge over 200 objections have been received to date by Stroud District Council (SDC) in relation to planning application reference S.11/0812/FUL.

To a layman like myself, that number seems rather high relative to most applications. It is my belief that if I were a home owner whose application received the same volume of objections, my planning application would be refused rather swiftly.

It is therefore most disconcerting to read that SDC appears to be entertaining the idea still, with their proposed “Helium balloon” exercise. This does not surprise the cynic inside me when I take into account the application fee of £16080.00 charged to and I believe paid by, Barratt Homes Bristol thus far.

It is my belief and understanding that SDC is a body charged with acting in the interest of the people and residents of Stroud. It would therefore be understandable to assume that if the people object to a proposal such as this, the result is SDC refuses said proposal and application. To my knowledge this has not yet happened.

The Handling Officer is listed on the website as being Laura Humphries.

Ms Humphries, I would like to take this opportunity to remind you of your duties as laid out in your councils constitution. Available to view here
1. Members should serve only the public interest and should never improperly confer an advantage or disadvantage on any person.....” – page 18

          1.3 “The overriding principle is that Councillors...should not favour any individuals or groups and must represent their constituents as a body and vote in the interests of the District as a whole...”
Ms Humphries. The people that the conditions of your employment require you to serve are trusting you. We have made our voices heard and have faith that you will act accordingly. I have every faith that each of your paying employers that inhabit Stroud will be most grateful when you act in accordance to their wishes. We could spend our time sifting through pdf's and documents building a 'case', but I will not engage in such activities. I realise the responsibility and power on your shoulders in this matter. I know you will not allow this development to happen. I trust your integrity and honour. You are a human being like us, you are not blind to the natural beauty amongst which we, and I assume you, reside. Corporations are blind to this, governments are blind to this, machines are blind to this. It is the human that controls them, that makes them who they are, that can see, hear and feel the damage they wreak upon this Earth. It is the human that either clicks the mouse, approves a bill, shys away from truth, or not, that decides. Listen to the people of your/our community. Your fellow human beings. They have decided, will you enact their will?
I believe yes.
People of Stroud. Do not stand idly by whilst corporations ravage and destroy your homeland and environment under the false pretences of providing a service. What they provide, they tell us, is “affordable housing”, but how many of you who need one, will be able to afford one?
We can often be misled into thinking just the animals and wildlife who inhabit a field such as the one in question suffer. The terrible truth is that we all do. We inhabit the fields we have already allowed to be destroyed. The environment that pays is yours. People talk of “saving the planet from destruction”. Let us start with a valley.
There was once a man like you who loved Stroud. He popularised it in his works and labours of love. It pains me greatly he is no longer with us, for when he was alive, I knew my valley was safe. He does, however, keep a watchful eye over the Slad Valley from his resting place at Slad Church. Before his death, he was often the torch bearer of opposition to such proposals and if needs be, I will hold that torch in his place and honour.
The spirit of Laurie Lee lives on in his valley, but with each field that is allowed to fall to the wanton destruction that is wreaked by such corporation and profit seeking machines such as Barrett Homes and their ilk, a piece of that spirit dies.
I, who grew up in Slad, next door to that fine gentleman we knew and loved, will not stand by. I call upon the businesses and individuals of Stroud and Slad to unite. To stand resolute and strong. Send them this message through our representative Laura Humphries;
“Quod Bonum Est Tenate” - Hold Fast That Which Is Good.

M Jones

Blood Before Breakfast - Friday 15/07/11

"Eira's waters have broken!"
An hour later, 3 kittens had been born on the sofa. I tell you what, watching a cat eat three placentas first thing in the morning is enough to make you stick to coffee and not eat breakfast.

New Life Abounds.
Took a mosy into town around 13:00. Paid in a £1000 promissory note and a £1000 Bankers Draft into my bank account. I then called back a debt collection agency and paid £234.00 that is apparently a one off administration fee. That's my account set up for life and they take 15% of all funds reclaimed. We'll see if and how well spent that money was.

Many A Truth Is Uttered In Jest.
M Jones

Healthy Service - Wednesday 13/07/11

Around midnight last night I received a call from a very tearful and lonely Emma. She missed us and desperately wanted my company. My heart felt her pain. The times I have spent in hospital have shown me how cruel a lonely night can be when you are unable to sleep. What really got me was when Emm sobbed that she didn't want me to come down in case I wasn't allowed in.
Good God. What rubbish. It hurt not only to hear it, but to wonder at the number of people who suffer because of 'visiting hours'.
I assured Emma that my entry was not in question. The NHS is exactly that. A health service. I shall order, and they shall serve.
I explained the plan to Frances who happily curled up in bed with the netbook watching Bambi II. Then I marched down to Emma rehearsing responses to a myriad of possible scenarios and challenges.
I knew it would be best to go for the jugular. And I was right.
I buzzed the intercom, a surprised voice replied. I said my name and that I was there as I understood Emma was in a state of distress. There were no questions. The doors parted.
As I walked down the corridor a nurse was hot footing it to Emma's room and was mortified to see the truth of my words.
A very sad and weeping Emma was crumpled over the baby in the lamplight. The nurse apologised and blurted she had no idea. I told her not to worry, all would be well.
A good time later the nurse returned to a calmer room and tried to coax me home. I had no intention of staying through the night, but I firmly made it clear I would not be leaving until Emma was happy and my presence no longer required. She got the message and let us be.
When I left I took the time to thank the nurse and made it clear she was not at fault. A good deal later (she was rather chatty) I slowly walked home to bed and a solidly sleeping Frances...
Today, baby and mother have come home and we begin the rest of our lives.
No one, bar the gods themselves, will ever separate us.

M Jones

Industrial Bargains - Tuesday 12/07/11

Despite sleeping long and well I am beginning the day feeling tired. Yesterday was spent with Emma and Baby. I left Frances with them and went off into town to buy some items. Forgot to buy cream called Kamillosan that Emma had requested. It was supposed to be a good natural product that soothed and prevented sore nipples of breastfeeding mothers. The hospital had provided Vaseline! Petroleum Jelly in the mouth of my newborn! I wouldn't put that into my body! Kamillosan proved to be a con. Purporting to be fluffy and natural, the FOR EXTERNAL USE ONLY rang alarm bells. If it's not for adult internals, I'm not putting it in my fucking baby's!
Once I read a string of E numbers and paraffin wax, I would rather have destroyed it than put it back on the shelf. £5 for that poison. No wonder reviews I read said it put babies off feeding.
I was lucky to see the last of one product, HPA Lanolin, that was just the ticket. Made from Lanolin and 100% natural. Sure £10 for bugger all. But I'd rather buy £10 of a little goodness than £5 for industrial toxic waste.
Am i now one of those holier than thou 'alternatives'? May be. Do I care about that more than the wellbeing and health of my child? If the answer was any other than a resounding NO, I wouldn't be fit to call myself a father, nay, a man.

Two Of My Three Precious Ladies.

M Jones

Kiwi Suction - Sunday 10/07/11

At 04:02 this morning, after a long and painful labour, a little being was brought to this world through a Herculean effort on her mothers part (and probably hers too). This little life form weighed 7lbs and 8ozs and had to be literally dragged through the birth canal with the aid of a 'Kiwi suction cup'. She also managed to tie her umbilical chord around her neck, but she was fine.
I have sworn an oath of guardianship over this being though it may cost me my life. That same oath was sworn for her predecessor seven years ago. Through these two beings, I shall live on forever.
I wrote a card for Emma, it went like this -

"We love you Mummy,

We are all so very very proud of you. Everyone we know sends you endless blessings of love. You displayed incredible strength, bravery and trust. I feel that these stories are seemingly reserved for an illusory 'super breed' of elite human being, but you have proved the opposite to be true. The struggle you have triumphed over is an act worthy of the Gods themselves. Your trophy is a being. A being through whom you will be loved and live through forever. For the second time. Twice you have succeeded in nurturing and sustaining a being of beauty and love. If ever you doubt your true strength and power, remember this. I am eternally grateful that it is I you chose to honour and love you, our children, forever more.

We love you Mummy.

Daddy, Franny"

I also took the liberty of lifting some sensitive documents from the notes when they were given to us at Gloucester to take to Stroud. I hoped by lifting these documents that attested to the birth I could cut the Registry Office off at the source. I asked a midwife how it worked and she told me that Gloucester would have informed them. But I have the originals of the proof... This will enable us to obtain all the usual services gained through registration without registering. Doctors, Passport, Schooling (if needed) etc.

After leaving Emma at 19:00, Fran and I walked home. Fran, in her exhausted state quickly became very weepy and missed her mummy. Some snuggle with Nana and a Rupert Bear story, followed by a watch of Ice Age 3 and she was soon giggling her way to sleep.

What a day.

M Jones

Fearful Diameters - Friday 08/07/11

Things are progressing slowly. Emma has been feeling an array of emotions. Fear, depression, impatience, discomfort and confusion. I enjoyed a discussion with her about these last night. Many, if not all of these can be traced around her pregnancy and the inevitable birth. I think she's in competition with the cat who's due to give birth to her litter in two weeks. I don't think that really ha ha.
But I am fascinated in how a person arrives at this state. I don't profess to be above such a condition but I do believe I understand and recognise it. I reminded her of the facts as I perceive them.
Our baby will be born.
We are all here presently through our own choices and actions and therefore can leave at any time.
Due to other factors, predominantly transport, it is inconsequential when the baby is born. We are here until August at least. This can be changed, our time decreased or extended, but right now, it is what we have decided and arranged.
Her fear pertains to the baby's potential growth and size, size and I understand that completely. I often fear the diameter and weight of what exits my body. The largest I have experienced would be a pregnant woman's fantasy.
I hope our dialogue helped dispel the false 'problems' her mind constructed. I hope she feels better. Reassured.

M Jones

The Greatest Story Ever Sold- Wednesday 06/07/11

Fear he who proclaims to be 'religious' For he is controlled and he seeks others to control. He will judge, prosecute and persecute all those who shall not conform to his will.
Instead, seek and embrace those who value that which is truly valuable. Who love that which is truly good. Who see through and past the lies and deceit and delusions of those beings of little or lower consciousness.
Seek those who have no master, in this life or the next. Find them. Join them in body and spirit. For I believe that it is by doing this that ye shall find your salvation.

Behold, for he is risen. He is the light of the world, the saviour of mankind. In his light I bathe. It is he who gives life. Under his all seeing presence we break bread and give thanks. He is the one true god. His is the power and the glory forever and ever. Cast your unto the heavens and see his magnificence. In our human form, we cannot look directly at him, such is the strength of his light.
He is the Sun, the Sun of God.

Do the words above, that this hand and pen created, now define me as a something? Christian? Religious man? NO! I am a human being. When humans meet, we look for, and are amazed by, our similarities. It is amazing because it is not a similarity. It is the essence of me co-existing in you. We are not different. We are one. We consist physically of the same elements and compounds. We are the same. Any perceived or indoctrinated perception of difference is slight relative to the truth.

We are Suns of God. God, I feel, being the essence that is within and without us. We, and all living things, hold a divine spark. An internal fire. A slither of a wider consciousness that is beyond the comprehension of the comparatively primitive human brain. Or, more specifically, the mind.
The 'devil' is the ego. The false made 'self'. Get out of your mind. Enter and dwell in your heart, lest the devil consume you.
You'll know you are in the grip of the ego. You know you are in 'hell'. How? Because you know deep down that bills and taxes were not the purpose of your birth.

M Jones

Statutory Demands - Thursday 30/06/11

Another trip into town. Emma had an appointment with the mid-wife, and I had a Statutory Demand to serve and a certain Police Receptionist to bring a peg down or two.

To get straight to the juicy part, I strode up to reception and, as no-one else was present, to some deep breaths to calm and focus myself. I was in the dragons lair. Receptionists are no problem, ego-charged policemen can be tricky.
I rang the bell.
She emerged. And immediately became defensive blurting out that the Chief Inspector himself had written back and deemed it a civil, not criminal matter. What?! How the hell did she know the contents of his reply?
I calmly told her I was not concerned about the letter. She again blurted she was just a receptionist, to which I emphatically agreed and I pointed out that, in my view, she was acting outside and above her job role and qualifications.
She jumped for a complaint form and threw it in the box underneath the screen. I thanked her and asked for her name and lapel number. She flat out refused to give them to me. So I asked "Who do I refer to in the complaint then?"
"The receptionist" she replied "I will own up that it was me". I declined her offer on the grounds I would be required to trust her and I was certain that she was not the only receptionist. She faltered. I pointed out that she appeared to be dressed in a uniform not unlike that of a police officer. She exploded. I didn't even have to cite The Police Act 1996, section 90, Paragraphs 1-4

"(1)Any person who with intent to deceive impersonates a member of a police force or special constable, or makes any statement or does any act calculated falsely to suggest that he is such a member or constable, shall be guilty of an offence and liable on summary conviction to imprisonment for a term not exceeding six months or to a fine not exceeding level 5 on the standard scale, or to both.
(2)Any person who, not being a constable, wears any article of police uniform in circumstances where it gives him an appearance so nearly resembling that of a member of a police force as to be calculated to deceive shall be guilty of an offence and liable on summary conviction to a fine not exceeding level 3 on the standard scale.
(3)Any person who, not being a member of a police force or special constable, has in his possession any article of police uniform shall, unless he proves that he obtained possession of that article lawfully and has possession of it for a lawful purpose, be guilty of an offence and liable on summary conviction to a fine not exceeding level 1 on the standard scale.
(4)In this section—
(a)article of police uniform” means any article of uniform or any distinctive badge or mark or document of identification usually issued to members of police forces or special constables, or anything having the appearance of such an article, badge, mark or document..."

She threatened that if I did not leave immediately of my own accord, I would be escorted out.
Thankfully a real police woman (I think), PC Emma Beard #1695, appeared and asked what the issue was.
The receptionist unleashed a barrage of accusations, including that of harassment which I thought ironic. I stood calmly and watched. When her tirade had ended, I looked the policewoman in the eye and said "I dispute that". I matter of factly told the policewoman how I had requested the receptionists name in order to file a complaint and she had refused. I asked for the police womans details and visibly noted them in my ready prepared notebook. Very shortly she gestured for me to walk with her. As we descended the stairs she quietly told me the receptionist was known to "have issues" and to behave like this. Around the time the policewoman said "high horse" the receptionist shouted down, in a rather shaky voice, from the top of the stairs where she had been eavesdropping that the letter had been dealt with and deemed not to be a police matter. I shouted back my thanks and winced at the police woman. Grinning broadly, I expressed my hope she didn't get in trouble for what she'd said. She assured me it'd be ok. She then agreed and made it clear that I had every right not to speak to a receptionist and instead request to speak to a police person who, unlike the receptionist, had training in legal matters.
I shook the police lady's hand and expressed my sincerest gratitude. God bless her and that receptionist. They teamed up to give me a wonderful and rich experience.

M Jones

Who Can Judge? - Wednesday 29/06/11

I arose around 11:00. Not long after, the days challenge and activity arrived with the post. Emma's debt collectors simply chose not to get the message and appear to be playing dumb (all credit to them). So to help them to understand. I researched the legislation they are governed by and found at least four they were in breach of
(Section 1 of the Protection from Harassment Act 1997, Section 40 of the Administration of Justice Act 1970, Section 4a of the Public Order Act 1986, Section 1 & 2 of the Malicious Communications Act 1988) taking this from being solely civil, into civil AND criminal legislation.
I told Emma to make copies of all the postal receipts (all letters were sent via Royal Mail Recorded) and correspondence and composed a letter to the Police. The result was an accusation supported by material evidence. A crown prosecutor couldn't ask for more.
Unfortunately, at the police station, the large grey (not just her hair) receptionist appeared to think herself judge, jury and executioner! She glanced through the paperwork and told me it was a civil matter and tried to pass it back to me. Unfortunately for her, I am not that easily deceived. I told her that despite her refusal to issue a receipt, I would entrust her to pass it on to the relevant person/department. I would inevitably receive a reply and thereby an acknowledgement would serve as well as a receipt. She refused to issue a receipt on the grounds she "didn't have one".
I strode out feeling victorious.
As I sat on a bench outside relating the details I have omitted here to Emma about my encounter, a young chap caught my eye and sat down beside me obviously wishing to engage in conversation.
He was most taken by my appearance, the steel toe cap boots and my agricultural looking trousers. He asked me to chaperon him through town to where he needed to go as he was "unwell". He appeared to be well physically so I asked what ailed him. He said it was down to mental health issues. I liked him instantly.
As we walked, he told me how his passion was hand made tools after I told him of my scything attempts. He described a knife he had had commissioned, but words weren't enough. He interrupted two women having coffee so he could draw his gurkha style blade. Not a care for etiquette or the ladies potential alarm regarding such a topic of discussion. I liked him even more.
As we left the coffee drinkers he shuddered and expressed his unease.
I asked what was the source of his discomfort. Was it the place? or the people? Both he replied. I said he could be forgiven as his feelings could be felt and understood by any man.
As I left him at his destination we shook hands. He apologised for not being sane. I replied in sincerity when I said "you appear to be one of the most sane people I've met in a long while". He smiled. The start of his 'insanity' had been the failing of a relationship. His parting words were "some seek help, others don't".

God bless you Will. I'll remember our encounter for a long time.

I then spent over £1000. £750 on a brand new Land Rover and £299.98 on a Netbook, case and 500gb hard drive. I didn't feel a thing. I knew I hadn't just splurged to gratify a conditioned false feeling or urge. These were items I believe we needed. A Netbook for its greater efficiency and practicality. The hard drive to retain all our photos and ensure the Netbook stays relatively clear and backed up. A brand new Land Rover. Well we currently seem to have a need for transportation. Infrequent compared to most. A rugged car that should last 50 years or so. Plus, it's a crucial part of my ambitious illustratory stunt...

M Jones

Don't Be A Dumb Dog - Tuesday 28/06/11

I was invited to celebrate a friends birthday by going for a meal last night. I was picked up at 19:50, leaving Emma "uncomfortable" but with orders to ring if things progressed.
Our little group met in a pub and not long after ordering a pint of beer, I received a telephone call. It was Emma's mum asking me to return, with a very labour like sounding Emma in the background.
Frances took 52 hours to be born. I was not going to rush my pint.Just as well too. As soon as I returned, the 'labour' passed.

The car was collected yesterday and hoisted onto a truck. Thought it so cool I video'd it. £260 in cash. Nearly the exact amount required for a 'Royal' Berkey Water Filter.

Over the past few days, I have made some more 'realisations'. Thanks, in part, to watching Robert Menard's "Bursting Bubbles of Government Deception"
In this video Mr Menard talks about Registration - Application - Submission. My realisations stem mostly from the registration part. Do we fully appreciate exactly what registration is? What it entails and its ramifications.
Registration, historically, is said to have happened in ports and harbours. A ship would arrive and moor in its allotted place. The Captain/Owner would then register the ship with the Harbourmaster. When this happened, the Harbourmaster would in effect be granted partial title (ownership) and ultimately be responsible for the vessel and its cargo for the duration of its registration or stay. This of course would normally terminate, one would imagine, around the time of the ships departure.

Fast forward the clock to today where we unquestioningly register alot of important things namely our land, cars, and shockingly, our children. In the same way as the Captain of the ship did, we are signing over partial ownership and ordering another authority/entity to look after our possession/asset/property. We are effectively left with 'usury' title. The con, certainly with our vehicles, is that we become registered 'keepers' and liable for it! What!?
Now the DVLA have the responsibility of keeping track of said vehicles via its 'registration mark'. So ANPR systems could be deemed as fantastic in that respect.

With children, this means the government is assuming the responsibility YOU as parents signed over to it when they take them away for whatever reason. Of course, you shouldn't have registered that human being because no one person can 'own' another. Thats slavery. Yet you did... But thats a different issue.
It is therefore THEY not charities that have to stamp out child abuse because every case is a gross failing on their part. You think you are parents. Much like your car, you are just the "keeper" or more commonly known in this instance as 'Guardian'. Little more than foster carers, but paid significantly less. Child 'benefits' is your salary. The people paid them are evidently employed not "spongeing".

For your car, create a 'Certificate of Title' and have it notarised. Even if its financed. Nothing is 'owned' if it isn't claimed. Claim it. Then send an 'Order of Termination of Registration' to the DVLA. Job done. But do not on your title describe your car as a vehicle or motor vehicle. Call it whatever you want. Call it a 'car' and it does not require tax, insurance or registration. I personally would create two titles, one for the 'vehicle' with its DVLA plates to enable termination of that plate, then create a new plate that won't conflict with any issued by the DVLA and make the other title for my 'car'.

"On a long enough timeline the survival rate for everyone is zero" - Fight Club.

Sooner or later you can expect the old bill to ask questions. Do your research. Mine suggests acting like a dog. How many dogs do you know that "understand" the "law" and don't  poop in the street.
They are truly free. In the same way, inform the police you don't understand. (stand under) that law/what they are saying.
"Sorry policeman/servant, I don't understand what you mean by have to/tax/name. Define that.

The police may kidnap (unlawfully arrest) you. You then shut up completely and do not cave to threats. Watch/read theantiterrorist for advise on this.

Don't be a dumb free dog though, one that gives a conditioned response from a life time of pain, threats vs rewards and pleasure.
Be an intelligent, wild, free dog. Be a Wolf. And always remember your pack is strong. But you may have to run with dogs until they wake up and become like you.

Watched some more of Robert Menard, this time a video called The Magnificent Deception. I do disagree with some of what he says however, such as by saying we should conditionally accept things. No way. We can say NO and remain in honour. To do that we simply state the grounds upon which we base our refusal.
For instance, someone, out of the blue proposes marriage to you. Mr Menard seemingly recommends you say "Yes, but only if you provide me with a car, house, kids, and become/remain sexually alluring and always satisfy my needs and desires".
I advocate saying "No, unfortunately I don't have those kind of feelings for you/I am not ready yet/I don't know you/You smell funny".

Mr Menard and theantiterrorist both seem to think we have to convince the police that statutes don't apply to us as we do not consent to them and then supply a barrage of legalese.

I say "I'm not a citizen". By default those same 'laws' don't apply so there is no need to argue and no need to know them. You could say your parents were wise enough not to register your birth and thus raised you as a freeman-on-the-land/a denizen.

Law and statutes ARE worth knowing, essential in fact IF you engage in commerce. Which includes nearly every common everyday activity. A 'driver' is a 'person' engaging in commerce on the highway for profit, hence the need for a 'license' and tax.
You could simply be travelling.
Your passenger merely a guest.
You cannot, to my understanding, shelter behind 'freeman/denizen' status if you are employed to drive. But theantiterrorist covers this area extremely well in his book.
Going back to the citizen thing, it is true even if your legal entity (your legal name(which isn't you either)) is because you aren't. What is you? Your body? Nope. I believe you is that which animates your biological shell. Think about it...

M Jones

My Foraging Ground - Saturday 25/06/11

I wonder if my recent entries can be attributed to 'metal escapism'. I should think by now that it is clear that my current circumstances and environment, whilst of my choosing and creation, are not my ideal.

Today, Em, Fran and I walked into town so Emma could engage in some commerce.
I found it a little arduous as I still only sleep once I have reached exhaustion. I put this down to energy and disquiet. Internal and external.

Whilst in town I spoke to a chap in the market who sells foraged food. I was flattered he remembered me as I met him only once before and that ws this time last year. I felt very proud to inform him of, and demonstrate, the knowledge I have gained over the past year. Unfortunately I do now have a twinge of homesickness. I miss my foraging ground.

M Jones