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Without a Gun



The Plan

  Occupy The $y$tem

    - Ray “Occupy” Lewis

  Messages For The:

    Baby Boombers



      - Catholics

    Politicians & Banksters

    People of Color

    First Nations People



      - Frederick J. Stemp, Jr.


      - The Fight

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      - Courtroom Techniques

        - Habeas Corpus

        - Mandamus

        - Certiorari

        - Bill of Particulars



     - Butts County Georgia

      - Rising Tide

      - Donna Piranha Byczkiewicz

      - Didi Banerji

      - Adam M. Dubbin

      - Occupy Wall Street

      - Stop Sabal Trail Pipeline

      - eBay v. Amazon

      - Progressive Insurance Co

    College Athletes

    Pot Smokers

    Gun Owners

    Sanders Supporters

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    Black Block

    Tea Party

    Truckers/Union Members



  Movies For Thought

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The Biggest Scam In The History  Of Mankind ~ The Truth About The Debt Ceiling.

Above is a video which everyone should watch as soon as possible.  This is  The Biggest Scam In The History  Of Mankind ~ The Truth About The Debt Ceiling.

The Blunt Truth About The Government Shutdown  Cllick here to find out what is really going on.
Watch “Inside Job” to learn how the banksters stole from the American people.
Solving-the-mystery- of WTC Building 7 with Ed Asner - 01-28-13   Click here to view the message.
Thought From Within by Woody Harrelson.  Click here to view what Woody has to say.
The Deliberate Dumbing Down Of America
The Collapse of The American Dream Explained in Animation

The Deliberate Dumbing Down of America

The Collapse of The American Dream

An Open Message to Police & Military

Click here to view the breakdown of the Fortune 500, from how much they made compared to how many people they employ.


USA Takeover Banner Charlie Chaplin1
Messege To Humanity

To First Nation Americans

Hi.  Let me begin by apologizing for the genocide your people have been going through for centuries due to the capitalists white men.   I cry often for your suffering. 

My fascination with the Native peoples of this country came when I was between the ages of 5 and 7 and belonged to a group called the Indian Guides.  This was set up by the YMCA to be a Native American theme father/son organization.  Today they are called the Adventure Guides.  I know one thing, I’d rather be in the Indian Guides than in the Adventure Guides.  The reason the name changed was because of the times.  They added father/daughter “Princess Tribes” and then changed to all those Native American words as not to look racist; the whole political correctness crap that goes on in this country.   But I loved the Indian Guides.

My name was Little Rain Cloud, and my father was Big Rain Cloud.  I guess he took the name because he was and still is a big pessimist.  So I got the junior.  There is always a dark cloud hanging over everything in his life.  But those times together, with the “tribe” (I don’t think they use that word anymore), were some of the best memories that I can conjure up from that time some 45 years ago.  From this organization came a passion from within to learn more about the Native Americans.

I couldn’t get enough.  I read up on and studied the different Native American tribes.  At that young age, I was also learning about them in school.  I was living in an area along the Delaware River.  The entire region has a long history with the peaceful Indians of that area.  We learned all about the different “Indian” “tribes”, except the truth.  Your genocide was really never mentioned.  But I had all the books.   I often tried to build a wigwam by following the instructions from one book I had, but I could never complete it.  Yes sir, I loved the Indians and dressing up as an Indian.  This continued through the fifth grade. 

As a young adult, I went from my hippie ways, to a 2-year heavy metal phase, back to my hippie ways.  But I never forgot the First Nation.  My disgust of what was done to you was written about by one metal band called Iron Maiden.  This song, here, really pissed me off.  After going back into my hippie ways, another band I listen to is Kansas.  They have a tune entitled, “Cheyenne Anthem”.  Always has stuck with me. 

Today my knowledge of the First Nation peoples is much greater than it had been as a youth.  Today I belong to the Rainbow Family of Living Light.

Now I know some of you First Nationers don’t like the Rainbow Family.  I understand.  The group has lost its way over the past couple of decades.  But I’ve seen a lot of it get cleaned up.  There, I met and became friends with a First Nation person named Little Hawk.  He told the story over and over again about the legend of Earth’s people and I learned of the Hopi Prophecy.  I have always felt that I come from somewhere in the Pleiades  or from Sirius itself.  In 1998, during the family’s National Gathering, held in New Mexico, the Rainbow Family was invited out to the Hopi partition land, inside the Navaho Nation, in north/eastern Arizona, to be the first non-Native people to witness a native Sun Dance.  I was among 39 or 40 people who accepted that gracious offer and was there almost 2 weeks. 

That experience was great.  You know what goes on there.  I cannot remember the name of the brother who invited us out on behalf of the tribe, but he did all the hanging for us…what he could take of it. 

Today, as a member of Occupy Wall Street, I have seen others working with the First Nation’s people.  One FN man is a brother name William Underbaggage, a Lakota man from South Dakota.  I met William at the 2013 Occupy National Gathering, in Kalamazoo Michigan.  When I tried to tell him about the plan for a peaceful takeover, he scoffed.  After hearing that the plan called for woman and children to lead he said, in a very scared tone of voice as he tried to walk away, “you’re crazy.  They will kill us all.  Haven’t you ever heard of Kent State?”  I hope you’re not all like that.  “Of course I’ve heard of Kent State,” I told him.  “Kent State happened 40 years ago before we had the Internet.  And if you really believe that your government would kill unarmed women, children and elderly, then that’s why you need to revolt.  If you are scared that they will kill you then you need to revolt for no other reason than that.”  He didn’t want to hear it.  He just said to remember Kent State and to leave him alone.  So I have been.  But this attitude that either “I” am trying to start a revolution where I hide from bullets from behind unarmed women, children and elderly or that the POTUS would give an order to do such a horrible thing, is just plain stupid and has to end.  Willie, however, advocates for this country being turned back over to the First Nation, but we have to admit, that is pretty selfish, no?  We can share, we must.

I understand what the Christian capitalists have done to your people and our lands.  I really do apologize even though that apology comes with no real substance until the wrong has been corrected.  You have my word as a man that if elected president, or given the power through revolution, the First Nation people will have a much greater say in the everyday workings of our New World.  And by “much greater” I don’t mean then you have today, I mean like in a much greater voice then the others living in the New World.  Maybe work on putting the Iroquois Confederacy back together.  You know what I mean?  For now though, you don’t have to do anything but sit and wait for the call to gather in D.C.  The New World is coming.  You have my word and word of those in our new government.

Update: September 19, 2016

I’m going to throw this out there.  I was working on this until I discovered I had $700.00 stolen from my home.  I was in hell because of this. It took a while to heal.  This is my first rough draft. I still have to finish, edit and proof it.  But I just wanted to throw this up there.

I cannot describe the emotion felt when I first showed up at the Sacred Stone Camp, in Cannonball, North Dakota. Mostly, it was sadness.  Only magnified by 100.

I was listening to a 78 year old man from Portland give a description of how he felt to the crowd the other day, which did words need to put all this into context, so I will borrow from him.  First, though, my ride here.

I had started this journey from the West Coast, well actually from birth, having given up on ever seeing this revolution.  I was headed east to be in Washington D.C. for the start of the revolution, which I figured was either not coming, or definitely coming by the time of the election.  If the latter, I wanted to be there.  First though, I wanted to visit the national parks and Yellowstone before it blows, which I believe will happen before February if we don’t end capitalism by then.  It is all tied into the earth and its destruction for profit. 

On my way east, the Sturgis Bike Rally, in South Dakota, was another place I stopped at.   Both Dakotas were the last two on my list to have been in all fifty states.  With South Dakota, that made 49 states.  I stayed in the area for a couple of weeks following the rally, as I fell in love with the Black Hills and wanted to explore more of the region.  I road them and even road the Badlands.  And I road through Pine Ridge and stopped at Wounded Knee to pay my respects.  Even visited a national park devoted to the glorification of nuclear weapons. But the entire time I was in South Dakota, I was learning about the Standing Rock Reservation and the struggle they were having with a few people that wanted to mess up the planet.  I had a feeling that if this wasn’t over by the time I had passed Bismarck, I would probably end up there.

In the last few weeks, things started getting interesting with this action.  Then, at the end of August, came time for the judge’s decision.  He balked, and the hearing to halt construction was put off until September 9th.  Yup, I was probably going to Bismarck. 

I traveled up to the Theodore Roosevelt National Park in western North Dakota, a couple of hundred miles north of Sturgis.  That made fifty states.  But while there an action occurred at the Standing Rock Reservation, which was live streamed to the world and which I watched with them.  A young native brother who goes by the name of Happy, chained himself to an earth mover witch took the authorities six and a half-hours to get him off.  It cost Equity Transfer millions.  I was so proud of this young brave.  A water protector as he likes to be called.  An Earth Steward is what I would call him.  This young man’s bravery gave me hope and excitement as I made my plans to show up in solidarity.

I’m not going to lie to you.  I have always felt that the plan for this new world could only come about with the help from the Native Americans, as it is they who I feel will have the greatest say on the everyday workings of this new America, which is a name we should change.  The white Christians of this country are about to get the lesson they should have learned half a millennia ago.  You and I know what that lesson is, but they don’t.  Most have no idea what they have been doing over the past 1500 years, but you will now show them.  It is time for you to take that position in this world and show the “Christians” the ways of truth and caring as you once tried, but were ordered exterminated by the kings and queens to silence your message.  Only this time, the people will hear it.  I sense great things for your people.  That is why I had to get here.  It is as if the universe, the grate spirit, is bringing this all together.  The land may be getting chewed up, but the outcome will be peace and understanding.

While I was in New York for the Occupy Wall Street second birthday party known as S17, back in 2013, I spoke with a group of indigenous people, Lakota I think, maybe Hopi, on the corner of Freedom (Zuccatti) Park, on the last night.  (My life has been whizzing by so fast, it is often hard to remember details.)  Something was going on later that month or year and I don’t remember where, but I wanted to go.  Only, I had to return to Michigan for a trial.  (You have no idea.)  But I knew.  I knew the only way we as a country were going to come together and heal ourselves from capitalism plus the last 500 years of history with the native Americans, 400 with the Africans, was going to come with the help of the indigenous people of this great land.  It is theirs.  I just wasn’t sure on how to get us together.  The world works in mysterious ways.

Just about all non-First Nation Americans have no idea of your culture.  They think the Spanish or the British came to this “new” world and found a piece of land with one nationless people wondering as “tribes” on it.  They probably have forgotten their teaching on the Iroquois Confederacy, if they had any.  They have no idea that this continent was much like Europe, with different nations having their own states (tribes), language and customs.  The fact that most lived in peace was something the white Christian could not rap his head around. Your ignorance of their world had them taking advantage over you and yours, till they kicked out the King and formed their own nation here and began to exterminate you.  All we learned in school about that was how some rouge officials used the first biological weapon against you, only not in those exact words.  Not with my teachers at least.  I think the words were, “blankets covered with smallpox.”  They teach us this in fourth and fifth grade.

I called before I came.  There were many reports of roadblocks.  The Feds were stopping cars and making none reservation folks, tourists, white man, turn around and leave.  I knew that if I were to get into a confrontation with a cop, it wouldn’t end nice, so I called the reservation and got the skinny on how to get around the roadblocks.  I stopped at the Mendan Walmart (I don’t want to hear abut it) to get supplies and find someone to lead me to camp.  I saw someone with a NoDapl shirt on and asked her.  She told me the same as the girl on the phone.  I googled the rout, then drove about 45 miles out of my way to avoid any confrontation with the police.  It worked and I arrived safely and without incident.

What I feel for the native Americans I carry with me always, the same I do with the African-American community.  It is a heavy pain spanning from my eyes to my heart rendering the feeling of always having to cry, which I did silently in public.  It is empathy gone amuck.  As I listened to each speaker at the sacred fire tell a story it, my heart bleed.  Just why we were all here was enough to depress me. 


One thing I heard the first night of my arrival really mad me cry.  The man was talking about how great it was and how proud he was, that everyone has come together for the first time since Wounded Knee and the seven tribes of the Great Sioux Nation were together for the first time since The Little Big Horn.  Being an empath, I felt the same way.  And it was good.  But it made me wonder that if all the different indigenous nations with there different languages and customs could come together as cousins for such a noble cause as saving us all, couldn’t the rest of the world? 

As I walked around and listened to the stories of those who were there at Wounded Knee, or whose ancestors were, or ran with, Crazy Horse, Sitting Bull, or Red Cloud, the tears flowed, down my throat and down my cheeks.  Stories of all the grandfathers and great grandfathers and great-great grandfathers, told by people in their seventies, who where hanged.  The pain as well as the joy, was deep.  Those whose fathers were with the start of the American Indian Movement, had some proud stories to tell.  So for a few days I was a basket case of empathy that just needed to scream out.  I knew that if I were to go to the front lines, I would have just lost it seeing the destruction.  I never went.  When I expressed that to a native brother, he suggested that I just let it out.  Scream it out, he told me.  They needed strong worriers on the front line, which I knew and which was why I didn’t go then. I tried, but nothing.  I took a walk up Facebook Hill, before it was like it is today, and I sat.  I thought of everything I had heard over the past four days, but nothing again.  I had come to the realization that I was just all cried out.  It was truly over by then.  I was starting to pull it together. 

On Tuesday I caught a ride to the front.  I was trying to find the Red Worrier camp action that I kind of knew was in the works the night before, but here was no work going on due to the lawsuit filed which still had to be ruled on by Friday.  We heard the machines had moved about 20 miles away, so we drove there in search of.  We found it.  This was the action where Jill Stein spray painted the dozer and was issued a warrant for (more on that later).  There were many worriers on the machines, as the work crew never got to work that day.  The NLG was their giving advice and instructions for people to choose from.  Film crews were trying to film.  The cops weren’t doing anything and I think they left one person to release themselves or stay there another night in her own … you know.  We left and returned to camp.

I don’t know how you people really want to fight this.  I know prayer is the plan and it seems to be working, but is that the only plan?  Some people here seem to think that someone on our side is going to die.  I don’t trust the government any more then the next enlightened soul, and Saturday the 2nd showed us that it might not come from the government, but it showed us that it is going to come.  And the kids are ready.  I can feel it.  My end game is that this pipe never crosses the river thus making the pipeline already built, useless.  Actually, it’s a little more than that.

If any of you have been reading this site, then you know how I roll when it comes to dealing with arrests and the law.  We have the numbers here.  I am sure I could get 300 young brave brother and many elders to voluntary be the soldiers in my battle and take the arrest, sit in jail and don’t bond out.  We could jam up to courts to the point that it would definitely make the evening news.  But I am just an observer with many plans waiting for plan B should the need arise.  I can tell you have it under control.  I am also too humble and socially awkward to push anything anyone has no idea about.  Red Worrier Camp wants to use their lawyers and wont give me the time or day.  I’d like to meet their lairs…I mean their lawyers and hear their plans.  I know I could do better than any bar crony.  But you really have to to learn about me and accept my plan, ask for the help and stand by it.  If you cannot follow orders it won’t work. 

I had given up in January after trying to start all this using help from an activist I knew when I was an activist.  This turned out bad and that was when I accepted futility and began making my plans for an exceptional summer on the west coast removed from this stupid game, followed by a trip east to find my daughter and grandson before the whole shithouse goes up in flames.  Ouch.  But my intuitions are usually correct, so…

Now I have a new hope.  I am hunkered down here till the bitter end.  And bitter the weather has been turning.  I am so proud of what is going on here, up to the point that I still have to wonder how far you are willing to go,  The white owned activist groups (other than Greenpeace) show up then leave when threatened with arrest. Or they take the arrests and pay the fines.  They don’t go far enough.  This all leaves the situation to be protested against next week.  After we stop the Black Snake from crossing the river, I hope no one goes home.  We have to stop all of it.  So tell me now, if there is not going to be a new country instituted on this land which ends capitalism and fossil fuel extraction then tell me now, I want to see my daughter and grandson one more time.  Because seriously, if we do not make a move on the United States Government by the end of this year, I know mama’s kicking us off.  And daddy could send us a comet to re-establish life.  See ya in billion years!  So how can we exactly win?






2.  We kind of know who the enemies are.  Directly it is the Energy Transfer Equity working for Enbridge.  Both of these corporations are, or were, Fortune 500 companies.  That means, they were among the top 500 publicly traded corporations to gain the most in revenues, gross, and number 500, the last on the list, grossed over 5 billion dollars a year.  However, I have been unable to find Enbridge on the 500 list for last year. Hmm.  Let’s start with the most direct one, Energy Transfer Equity first.  These are the guys calling the shots.

You have to understand that corporations are not Gods.  They may appear to be because they are always referred to as a “person” separate from the “owners”, that we can’t see, hear, or lock up for good, but invisible gods they are not.  There is still a name on the shares of stock and most for ETE belong to Energy Transfer Partners, who basically owns Energy Transfer Equity.  So, ETP is basically the Mother Corporation of ETE and the 86th richest man in America, Kelcy Warren, owns ETP.

Energy Transfer Partners was founded in 1995.  The wiki story can be found here.  I would say this page needs to be updated.  But better than that page is this one here, from his ranking on the Fortune 500.  (That is how the Christian white man judges who wins the game for the year.) Let’s take a look at how Energy Transfer Equity stacks up today, to my last report on them seen in the Fortune500 pic to the left of this page.  For this year, which I believe to be 2013, Energy Transfer Equity came in 161st place, grossing $17.3 billion that year.  Their net wasn’t that great at $302,000,000. That’s a lot of selling.  That year they also had 14,433 employees, which means that after every employee was paid, the shareholders made just under $21,000 for each employee they employed.

Today they have doubled their workforce while doubling their yearly take-home they make off each employee.  So, rather than making 20 grand a person with 15,000 people, they have figured out how to double that number to 40 grand a year, while at the same time doubling their workforce to over 30,000.  This is that nearly 400% difference in the amount they netted over the two years.  So Warren’s company is getting more proficient at overcharging while under paying.  That is how one gets rich.

On the Fortune 500 picture in the left margin, for this year, 201


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