- The One Person Paper Generals Hate
- Detest, try to out best, touches their visceral
- is the Private turned General
- with all of their Paper War College, knowledge
- and their self made storied Legends,
- of themselves, their acting tough, they despise him
- they know, he’s living proof, they are not real men
- the Private turned General is the real deal
- he has become and turns other males, into Men of Steel
- what he knows, what he feels, can’t be experienced from a book
- Death gazed into his eyes, killing, his best, most trusted friend
- he has done what Paper Generals quake at, hand-to-hand combat
- it’s not that they can’t out fight, out courage, out nerve him
- but it’s what he inspires in other men, oh yes, they can out run him
- these Paper Generals have become a cancer to our culture
- they have become the mindset of CEO’s, Ministers and Politicians
- The Men, of the once mighty Eagle, have become cowardly Vultures
- desiring only to face the dying and weak, their courage crashed
- their vanity, peaked, needing company, an entourage, to camouflage
- their thirst for innocent blood and killing, from a safe distance away
- hoping their trained murderers won’t betray, their aims
- for more blood and a better payday, and seizure of treasure
- the Private turned General, respects the Lives of his Men
- and inspires war, bloodshed, as duty to defend
- Honor, Constitution, Country and its Citizens
- while these Paper Generals, these Cowardly Hobbits
- hide in bunkers, conspiring, genocide for Profit…R.D.Revilo
Archives
All posts for the month December, 2012
- How is It, The Power of An Organized Few
- can manipulate mindless masses in doing
- what they want them to do
- it is the power of planning and organization
- the central core, of waging War
- from its spiritual, mental inception
- All is War, the Art of War, Deception
- so organizers, planners, schemers
- conspirators, plotters, Dreamers
- All are declaring war, war on
- someone’s ignorance, their fears
- before, bullets and bombs
- protests and mobs, wars are fought with Ideas
- ideas born in secrecy, sheltered by conspiracy
- risk, rivalry, reward conceive its birth
- power, not to feel, but own assesses its worth
- in Life, one is either acting or re-acting
- one is either guessing, estimating or factoring
- think of it as one Man grabbing, gripping, the other, slipping
- one Man walking, another tripping
- so Ideas are at war, like sperm, battling
- to see, who will be the baby, rattling
- their purpose, their aim, is their spirit
- their expression, mental math, cognitive digits
- physical manipulation, must be silent, secret
- until maturation, so deception is its embryo sac
- it’s far deeper than investing and getting money back
- it’s about minimizing effort to nil, and maximizing rewards
- towards, infinity, unless done for the public’s interest
- then the war is waged to minimize conflict and maximize peace
- the two are as different as the Cure and the Disease…R.D.Revilo
- There Were Five Generals, Five Scientists
- And Five Hollywood Producers, Gentlemen
- The President has mandated we get a man
- on the moon, soon, we need a vehicle that can
- takeoff and land, on the moon, the Lunar surface
- this has to be the greatest spectacle ever seen
- the culmination of the American Dream
- by Executive Mandate, we must make haste
- those commie bastards are in the race
- so who can make this space odyssey happen
- General, you go first, we can do it for a $100 Billion
- uh, hum, we, Scientists can do it for $100 Million
- (laughter), well Mr. Producer, what’s your offer
- the entire Epic, liftoff from Earth, moon landing
- moon takeoff, splashing safely in the Ocean
- $30 Million, and every American will want to be
- a part of this colossal fantasy,
- they’ll want to grow-up and join the military
- to become astronauts, or cosmonauts
- and for these four-eyed jerks,
- they’ll want to go to colleges
- so they, too, can take credit for our work
- for you, Mr. Banker, and the President’s satisfaction
- the magic happens, if Hollywood says
- Lights, Camera, Action…R.D.Revilo
- Every man, Quiet, Looking Out His Window
- Looking, Looking into his soul
- June, man is it cold, the freeze
- of about to lose all self control
- You sure he’s going to let you in
- yeah man, yeah, I keep telling you,
- that’s my cousin, he’ll open for me
- he’d better, he will, man, he will
- I ain’t going back to prison
- what, we ain’t leavin’ no witnesses
- but there will be women and children inside
- they hear my shotgun, they’d better hide
- I ain’t going back to prison, hey wait a minute
- we just robbing, no one said anything about killing
- look, no you look, we got these shotguns
- to take the money and run, you a bitch ass nigger
- scared, to shed a little blood, punk can’t pull a trigger
- no, why when if , shut-up, we’ve come too far
- to turn back now, you are either in or a shot to the head
- just remember, five locks, then the sliding of the metal rod
- then bum-rush in, I just want the money, don’t care about no killing
- six knocks, slot opens for visual, hey cuz, with a grin
- come on in, lock one, click, lock two, click, click
- click, click, slide, clear, then the rush, the booms
- and bangs, screaming, then the hush, hush
- out of five, three raced back to the van,
- blood money, stained their hands,
- three dead dealers, four dead women
- two injured, five dead, three wounded children
- cousin crack head, who got them in, dead
- Mr. I-Ain’t-Going-Back-to-Prison, drowned in red
- for money, for loot, for booty, the treasure
- to measure one’s vanity, to live
- surfing in a tunnel of fear
- that was three years ago, three years of hard work
- living with the memories, every time he sees
- his newborn son, his baby girl on the way
- his mansion, with swimming pool
- living around strangers he can’t stand
- his Estate paid for, his mother, cared for
- his wife, blissful to stress,
- sexually squeezes him with happiness
- owns four businesses, barbershop,
- a fried chicken franchise,
- the other detailing cars and Limo rental
- thinking about buying an ISP, from this Oriental
- and a beauty salon for the wife
- knowing what he’s got, he can’t keep
- just wants to live, long enough, to pass it on to his son
- his own death wakes him up, from his brief sleep…R.D.Revilo
- He Awoke Smelling The Sounds of Sizzling Bacon
- the eggs, over easy, big buttered biscuits
- the hot cakes, smothered in maple syrup
- the slop, slot opened, he acted as if he wasn’t awakened
- smelled so good, ah the aroma, but it didn’t taste the same
- he wondered, was he actually guilty of murder or shame
- hmm, was it the heifer he killed when he was hungry
- livestock homicide, can lead to capital punishment
- or three men for not paying his gambling money
- or the Horse he stole, when his fell dead
- was the little blue eye-blond child he raped and mangled
- maybe the redhead, he dragged, screaming to bed
- or the cowpoke he ambushed with a throat cut
- when he said his table money, he wouldn’t give up
- memories, man its lunch time, slop slot slams open again
- mashed creamy potatoes, steak this time. no bacon,
- peas, corn on the cob, gravy, cornbread
- smelled like Momma’s making,
- dreamy again, shooting the 19 year old
- gunslinger in the back, boy he was bold
- wanting to fight a veteran, of The Civil War
- In-jun Wars, a man who survived houses of whores
- raped women, like he brushed his teeth
- ending with a spit, then a good shit
- sometimes he knew water, but it seldom knew him
- unless came cross a creek and went for a swim
- hot coffee, that’s the last thing they’ll give me,
- the preacher, trembling, came in to pray
- he spat on Amen and ran him away
- 21 steps, 21, he had killed that many
- with his first gun, a war veteran teenager
- no job, just a hire on, with deadly skills
- hardly a Life, but pays the bills
- when you can find work
- but it’s the killin’ work that finds you
- pays the best too, any last word
- the same as his firsts, fuck you
- throat dry, can’t cry, about to die, out
- only thing he remembered, was slam
- flying, feet never touching the ground
- no pain, just shock, intense white Light
- then Blackness, taking him homeward bound…R.D.Revilo
- Now Sit Back and Relax
- breathe deeply from your abdomen
- not your chest, we want to invest
- in some deep thoughts
- carefully examining what we’ve been taught
- so let your bottom stomach, swell with air
- your brain, elevate some oxygen to get up there
- it seems the laws passed by Congress
- are meant to aid the Big Crooks
- in retaining their stolen nest
- the victims, are now the threat
- and are being legislated into corners
- dominated by homelessness and hunger
- driven psychotic, crazed and dumber
- stripped of everything to hold a job
- begging for work, needing money,
- in their own country, desperately
- so answer this for me, as you breathe deeply
- how can 300 million people, be held hostage
- homeless, hungry, by a mere piece of paper
- the dollar bill, needed by all, with resources
- in abundance, some being disposed,
- dumped into oceans, fewer being sold
- farmers, bribed not to farm,
- as the un-employed begin to swarm
- into circles of criminal networks to survive
- many with no electricity, no water, barely alive
- coming from Families, who once proudly owned
- farms, small businesses, wealth from previous generations
- now, slaves, useless, trying to get on the Plantation
- these fascist, fictitious Humans, Corporations
- so survival has become a crime, as Living is beyond Hard
- now you stand before this Black Robed Demi-God
- sentencing you for trying to get the paper to feed
- your needs and those of your Family
- missing paper, has you off to the Penitentiary…R.D.Revilo
v
- You Need to Do Yourself a Favor
- go to Truth11.com, another Blog
- and see how the Icelanders
- put an end to these Banking Hogs
- we must write to these representatives
- that they are going to be captured and arrested
- for falsely representing you and me
- to stuff their pockets full of money
- that’s what they fear, Collective Action
- for the Icelanders, told the bankers
- and their political friends
- this debt, belongs not to Us, or our Children
- this austerity, and fiscal cliff, fraud, must end
- but the banker’s money is debt
- created by borrowing, out of nothing
- the fraud, they expect to be repaid with something
- every dollar is debt, so how can it ever be repaid
- its like saving a house ablaze, by starting
- another fire, it never ends, debt never retires
- debt is cancer to an economy, unless you are the debtor
- you are never Free, neither is your Country
- so We, The People, must address the Senate, the Congress
- and let them know, we are not responsible, for the debt owed
- by their banking Family cartel co-conspirators
- and if legislation is not passed saying so,
- off to prison, along with these federal judges, they will be towed
- you must protest, until we arrest, 535
- of these criminals, plus these gangster, banksters
- including Mr. Obama and Ben Bernanke
- whom are collaborating in this, Khazar-Teutonic, Thievery…R.D.Revilo
http://truth11.com/2012/12/13/icelands-hordur-torfason-how-to-beat-the-banksters/
- He’s a Nice Young Man
- at least that’s what the old folks say
- always asking, how are you
- how’s your day
- but his Father died a worried man
- seems his likable son, used crack for fun
- he’d work, two weeks until pay-day
- then he would disappear, for days
- at the crack house, flowing so free
- if only Life were that easy
- you see, the people that pay him
- use the crack to take the pay away from him
- he’s got skills, wreck, he’d have
- your car looking better than brand new
- more than paint, he can fix them too
- but never one to pay, his child support
- mortgage, rent, debts or bills
- his heart is good, some say weak
- but that damn crack keeps him, off his feet
- if he could only just break away
- and stay away, he would become
- his Father’s pride, his grown little Boy
- but he passed, worried, feeling hurried
- that his genetic Man, was just a crack head
- and in his dying eyes, his son, already, Dead…R.D.Revilo
