Pat Shannan's MUSINGS
Hiding in Plain Sight
Christians agree that the once great United States has mired itself at new depths of heinous immorality and wicked corruption, but most mistakenly believe that this problem can be solved with the election of honest and moral people to federal offices. The truth is that the D. of C. bureaucracy has now captured the American people by luring us into their muddled web of federal statutes. Statutes of man have replaced the laws of God in the ABA, just as surely as burning and cutting and poisoning have replaced natural remedies in the AMA.
But before the enemies of freedom could replace the common law with these legalized statutes of corruption, they first had to destroy something else natural in order to get the door open. It is a premise few people consider.
In the 1960s, a new group out of Belmont, Massachusetts known as the John Birch Society began to organize patriotic Americans into educational cell groups all across the nation. It was founded by the candy magnate Robert Welch, who through extensive research began to perceive the on-coming New World Order and desired to alert his fellow Americans of the high-level conspiracy designed to take away their freedoms. Welch believed, and rightfully so, that knowledge is power and that an educated electorate, who in turn would keep its politicians aware of the truth, could prevent any such "creeping socialism" takeover. The subsequent attack and persecution which he and the society underwent proved that he was bothering people in high places.
As Welch himself predicted, The John Birch Society (named after a Christian missionary murdered by Chinese Communists in 1945) underwent an enormous attack by the liberal wing of journalists and professors which has not ceased to this day. Professor Carroll Quigley of Yale University, a member of the dreaded Council on Foreign Relations -- a Birch bugaboo - wrote in his new book a decade later, Tragedy and Hope, that indeed there had been conspiratorial plans afoot for a long time. Quigley believed that the conspiracy was already so firmly in place that he should have no fear of talking about it publicly because there was nothing that anyone could do to stop it anyway. (Quigley became Bill Clinton's mentor shortly after the book was published.)
The Society persisted and even included Tragedy and Hope in its massive educational catalog of books for sale at its public meetings. The John Birch Society became the flagship of all the patriot groups to follow and was the avowed enemy of communism and all who would threaten American liberty. It was the first educational group to expose the fraud in the teachings of the public school system, by re-educating adults in the areas of basic protections of freedom in our (former) constitutional republic as opposed to the inherent evils within a democracy. You just couldn't get any red-white-and-bluer than the John Birch Society. That is until June 24, 1968, a date that came and went unnoticed ?- even to the astute Birchers. Yet in retrospect it has become the flashing red light of history that should serve to continue to remind us that until we reverse what became final on that day, Professor Quigley was right. Whom we elect is of little importance anymore.
It was the final changeover in our monetary system -- the last meticulous step in the long journey from lawful money to legal tender -- gold to tokens. 6/24/68 was the day that the banking window, through which Americans could still exchange paper notes for silver coin, slammed shut. Natural money was now totally debauched, and the power to control anything and everything was granted to a select few plutocrats. Whenever public servants begin to be paid by something other than what the people produce, the roles of master and servant become reversed. Until that window of exchange is re-opened, all the political rhetoric about solving one social problem or another is nothing more than just that ?- political rhetoric, "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." The Birchers and everyone else, who think they can fix the republic by writing letters to notify their senators and congressmen of various problems, are licking a hollow lollipop. To do so is to but waste time, paper, ink, and another (phony) 34 cents.
Pluto's Confession
I had the "dream" interview the other day with none other than Pluto Rothschild, the direct descendant of his multi-Great-Grandpa Meyer who said, "Give me the control of a nation's money supply, and I will care not who makes its laws." Nobody ever hears of Pluto, but he is still in charge. Cheeky old S.O.B., he is. (That's Son of Baal.) As we sat together in the backseat of his limo, he confided that Rothschild was the name of his earthly family, but I suspect his real father is Lucifer himself. He admitted that now that he has deceived most of us into believing that his statutes have amended God's natural laws, he has become our silent ruler.
"I hide my secret weapon in plain sight," he said, "and most of you ignoramuses don't even know what I have done to you!
"You don't sugar-coat it, do you?" I said.
"Why should I? Today, I alone make the daily determinations of the entire money supply. My 'money,' because you suckers were stupid enough to fall for it, is created through computer credit with the press of a button. I print paper tokens and mint cheap copper-laden coins and allow my banking corporations to issue these to you to spend in the market place. This massages your ego and enhances the fantasy that you actually have money in your pocket. You all are so g-d- stupid! Since you now earn five times as much as you did thirty years ago, you think you are doing well but have never stopped to think that both your necessities and luxury items cost six to ten times as much."
I pondered that last statement for a moment and realized he was right. That same $7.50 plate lunch I had just eaten cost only 75 cents back when I was a young man, and my $12,500 home then would go for over $100,000 now.
"But where will it all stop?" I asked
"Whatever the inflated price becomes, do you think I care? I get all this dough for nothing, but you fools have to trade your goods and services for it. And you're too busy struggling with one another in your daily attempts to get more of my tokens to even realize that whenever I get the whim, I can push the button and eradicate everything in your bank account. But you may rest easy in the knowledge that there is no point in my doing that right now. I want to keep my naive little slaves happy while I steal all the real wealth. Besides, I use my button-pushing antics for much larger and more important functions than just robbing an isolated few, although it is a nice hammer to hold over you in case you get out of line.
"Have you never stopped to think that if I get it for nothing and you have to work for it, you are my slave? I can make it plentiful or I can make it scarce. I couldn't do it with your lawful money of gold and silver, but with my legal tender statutes, it's a breeze. You imbeciles put up your homes and farms in exchange for my credit. I then inflate prices to the eventual point that your overhead erases your profit. When you can't pay your mortgage, I get the real wealth, your property."
"But how can you be sure a landowner won't make a profit?"
"Easy. When the farmers have had good climate and are about to make a bumper crop, I just call the COMEX and sell short a large quantity of cotton, corn, wheat, or beans. Then I create the credit and go pay for it, thereby lowering the price for everyone before harvest time. I can afford to haul a wheelbarrow full of FED-tokens over to COMEX or dump it in the toilet. But I can't afford to let you make enough to pay off your loans. What lender is his right mind would want you released from your debt bondage? I make money the new-fashioned way: I print it. Then with that I make it the old-fashioned way: I steal it.
"Your power is unlimited and, if I may say so, unbridled too, isn't it?"
"Yeah, you could say that. For awhile there I was using my unlimited money to influence your vote. I would buy enough newspaper and television advertising to inundate your feeble brains with my propaganda, which finally swayed enough of you to vote for my personal candidates. If any of the opposition looked `too clean,' I would hire a few agent provocateurs to destroy his reputation within his constituency or even arrange a convenient `accident' to remove him from the scene permanently.
"But today, with the advent of the sophisticated computer programs, I don't have to fool around with all that tedious rigmarole anymore. Go ahead and vote for whomever you like and see if I care. Makes no difference to me because with my unlimited money, I care not who makes election laws, either. I own every computer tabulating vote machine in the country. My program is so slick that it even self-destructs after spitting out my pre-determined vote count. Now, I just spend a little each year in advertising propaganda to remind you that it is important to vote. You know, the patriotic thing to do. So when your candidate loses, you lamebrains go back and commiserate with one another for four more years, knowing that you did your duty, and then you make plans to work harder to get your guy elected next time. Hee hee."
I was flabbergasted and asked him, "Are you telling me that you own all 535 of them? Surely there must be some people up there in Washington with enough character to vote their consciences!"
"Oh, I admit, sometimes I get busy with other things and let one of your boy scouts slip through and get into Congress. No problem. As soon as my agents can drop a few bags of cash into his lap, I will own him and his vote. Since all the votes in the House and Senate are posted in the record, I can't use my computer trick there. But if you have been wondering how and why your favorite candidate got so corrupted so quickly after coming to Washington, now you know. It usually takes about a half a million bucks. But what do I care? I've got all I want at my fingertips, and assassins are available whenever I need them, and they work cheap!
"However, I do have one major problem. In the history of the world, there has never been a paper money scheme that survived. You see, what eventually happens is too much paper and credit floods the market, thereby causing an increase in prices as more credit money is chasing the same amount of goods. This eventually leads to hyperinflation as witnessed in Brazil and Mexico in recent years. But I've got a little vacuum cleaning voodoo to help eradicate that problem - or at least prolong the inevitable. It's called the Income Tax.
With my controlled news media, I have programmed most of you to believe that is patriotic to file 1040 forms and pay for your own hanging. You fools are so brainwashed that I can get you to squeal on your neighbor, should he begin to understand the big picture and stop participating in my game with you. Some of them will even get on a jury and send one of your Christian brothers to jail because my agents say, "He wasn't paying his fair share," and your moronic jurors believe that!
"With my monetary control of the public school system, I have been able to program my subjects from childhood as to the need for an income tax to finance the government. Of course, this is total baloney. The income tax doesn't fund anything except me, my bureaucratic lackeys, and the apocryphal illusion. It only allows us to carry on our charade for another year.
"My highly compensated lackeys are products of the government schools, too, and after a few years of working in the bureaucracy, they are even more brainwashed than the rest of you. Most of these robots think that anything said and done in the name of government is lawful. So, whenever one of you reads too much truth and begins to rebel, I just send them to take away some of your property or maybe even put you in jail. My scant few who find their work distasteful manage to overlook it, because I see that they get large monthly disbursements - call it hush-money, if you like - and grant them fat pensions to keep them quiet when they retire."
I was starting to see the light. "So you can kill people, create wars and domestic terrorism, build more federal buildings, arm more agents, and generally do whatever is necessary to preserve your kingdom, can't you!"
"Yep. I am the source. I control it all. When the government was financed with gold and silver coin, you kept us in check, and we couldn't do anything without the funding of the people and the states. Now, we fund whatever we want, whenever we want, even without your knowledge, let alone your permission."
"But isn't that unconstitutional?" I naively replied. "I mean isn't there something in there about only congress having the power to coin money and no state can make anything but gold and silver coin a tender in payment in debts?"
"You are really thick upstairs, aren't you? I just told you five minutes ago that with my credit creation powers, I can buy anything or anyone. Weren't you listening when I told you that includes politicians?"
"Yes, I heard that," I said, ignoring his insult, "but how did you do it? How did you acquire this unlimited power in the first place?"
"Oh, by creating catastrophe. You are too young to remember the Great Depression of the thirties, but our boy Franklin Roosevelt had the people eating out of his hand. When he told them to turn in their gold and silver because it was no longer lawful, they did it. The rest was a piece of cake, and it has gotten easier and easier and time has passed. Today, whenever the issue raises its ugly head, we have a few of our expert economists - doctors of fiscal humdrum from Harvard, Yale, or Columbia - write an article and go on TV explaining why gold is now archaic and how there is not enough in existence anymore to take care of this modern economy. Of course, it's all poppycock, but the people buy it.
"Do you remember I told you earlier about what my grandpa said? About `not caring who makes the laws?' Ha! I've taken it one step further. You gave me the control of this nation's money supply, and now I make all the laws, too! Your guns are still a concern to me, but as soon as I can finance a little more terrorism, I'll have half of you actively disarming the other half.
"Whatever you do, don't read Hosea 4:6, because now you might finally understand it. Now get out. I've got business to do."
I was standing at the curb as he was instructing his driver to take him back to the Land of Plutocracy, and he shut the door. Through the tinted glass, as the big limo pulled away, I could see only the back of his hand, slammed against the glass with the upraised middle finger glaring at me.