Son of the Creator, Son of Light Son of Dark, Steps Out with Revelations and Links Proof
by Kurt Brown--Saint Ram Bone • Saturday, Jul. 15, 2006 at 10:13 AM
USA, The Devils Median Triangle on Earth

Below is a post in a poetic vein, in which I recount the Devil's Triangle, the Triangle of Fire, and how those with conscience and empathy can see my construct and how it is done when you expect the fire fight and when you don't.

In this world, there is always Heat, Oxygen, and the fuel are the criminals of no humane ethics. They are not hard to find. On with the show.

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In contemplating what is known as the Devil's Triangle in fighting criminals in government, I have mistakenly come across the triangle of fire, which consists of heat, oxygen, and fuel.  This same paradigm can be applied to fighting criminals in the current regime, at least on the surface.  The greater fire fight is more on a microscopic and macroscopic level and is more technological, at least from our perspective, that of the human mind and perception.

Unfortunately for us, being at the disadvantage, we the common of ethics are being burned, from the time we are born until the time we die.   For instance, I created my own triangle by accident and through auditing.  Two of the points in the triangle were intentional and I was testing and auditing and knowing the whole time that the fire was there, but I had to prove it.   The third was likely the most pivotal for myself, to my detriment, and to the other people I was after at the other two points.  However, both of them fared better than I did, at least from what I can tell.  I have been burned and torn to pieces, but at the same time, I have become hardened to the point of being dead inside, so I do not feel as much if we have a full heated battle to our mutual deaths.

Some people do not understand me, but I am not like them.  We could even be different species on some sub-species level.  I know of some differences, and I hear the moaning death or birth of that greater being of mine that has been attacked and I hope the creator hears and sees and is there to help. If not, I want it all to collapse on itself very soon, and I am sure it will be helped in that direction, if need be.  That day of us looking at each other as allies in this nation, the USA, is over.  I would never sell dope for the price of gold to an addict and I would never make it available to children or even the advertising of it.  I stand alone, I stand among thee my multitude.  We are starting to have a free for all fight in the USA and the world.  I do not know who to side with in the mid East, Israel or Palestine.  I side with both, I side with neither.  I feel more like a Palestinian as I am an underdog also, at least in this phase of the greater life.  Yesterday, I sided with Israel, as they stood alone and battered on the head.  I side with the underdog because the creator hates me and loves me.  I fight and die by the side of the creators true majesty.  I feel nothing for a drug lord, even if in Tiburon, CA, a wealthy enclave in the wealthiest county in California.  I feel nothing for an abusive bully even if in Washington D.C..  We can fight over a stretch of cloth for eternity and find we are fighting over dust, like mad men with mad cow disease.   I could make a ham sandwich out of it and those who do so and feed it to a pack of dogs or wolves. But in some sense it hurts me also, because we are made to be a reflection of each other, whether you can sense it in the higher dimensions or not, like a care free and calloused imbecile child if you do not.

Anyone who messes with our family soon finds themselves in the dumpster, I do not care who they are or who they hail to, as mine will always hail to conscience or empathy, even though we may sometimes go astray due to the environs of hellish life in which we are cast.  We are in the creators pocket and the creator is in ours.  Would you fight to the death for the creator, even if the creator was the underdog and subject to lose?  The answer, that if you said No, and said I would fight for the winner of the fight regardless if I knew who was going to win, you may find that it was a test and that he or it you have fought for is better than you, and you are punished by being it's future remnant and slave.

I have lost much in this life and financially I am reduced to ruins by lesser men or evil living devils.  It does not matter, as like Ho Chi Minh or Mao Tse Tung said, "They will devour themselves", which is what is happening in Capitalist society.  Although I do not know if we have control of that society. So we must ask, "Who is devouring whom?"

The three points of my devils triangle on the smaller world scale is San Francisco, Los Angeles, and Alabama.  All three tie to Washington D.C., the throne of global evil and subjugation and indignation, and at the same time, a perchance sliver of hope, but who knows....got dope? Got Prisons? Got cash for the price of hell and a sip of iced water?.  It is the auditor who is burned in the corrupt society and it is not the other way around.  America is a corrupt society and the fabric tying us together is drawn and torn if it exists at all.  What may exist is the sinewy mildew like snot that was our forefathers tissue, their hopes and dreams gone for naught.

Perhaps I walk in the wrong circles.  I am disgusted by the lie of the drunken bar room of millionaires, want to-be millionaires, and a collection of sluts who are starving for one thing or another.  The same goes for the smoky cannabis clubs, where good men are hooked to a tourniquet at $400 or more for an ounce of monopolized market marijuana and they lean their head down in a laughing stupor forgetting how miserable life was, and then returning to find they are more broken than before, and then returning to the stupor once more.  Some men do not have the willpower to surface from the nightmare, the facade of intoxicated happiness, on their own. They never come to understand the nature of the fight, for the bliss.

On with the fire triangle, fellow auditor and cop and investigator.  Listen to what I say.  When a fire burns it needs fuel, and that fuel is you.  The trick is to set yourself on fire, and then run and start another and then run for cover so they burn each other out and those behind them.  If you get caught in the hiding spot like I did, you are best to find where to start a fire there, because then they have to collide together and if you can find some freedom, you can walk out with a torch, hence my writing this is the torch or the light on this day.

I discovered the first two fire points by intuition,  The first...a dead bank examiner for the FDIC and obvious criminals getting bank charters and sweating bank presidents during bank examinations, and a familiar pattern of the same bank examiner in charge at those characteristically criminal enterprises.  Of course when I was terminated for no real reason, I knew the persons signature on the page indicated his wealthy mask was not as pink as it should have been and was wrought with the ugly vacancy of death and decay and that his ethnic background matched that of the suspect bank examiner.  Most internal syndicates are based on genetic lineage.  That is not to point at any race, as all are guilty to some extent during various points in the eternal history of our times..

I tested the FDIC fire point and it came back positive when their criminal syndicates tried to kill me.

Now, the second fire point.  Not knowing that the first would ever lead to a second fire point I became involved in Mobile Alabama politics using my fledging accounting and auditing and bank examination knowledge to look for flaws in my crumbling native regions government.  I had no clue what I would soon discover.  They were not like me at all.  They were lesser beings and they ruled.  Had I been tricked?  Had my family been sucker punched?  Did some know the truth?  Yes, but not as in-depth as I would soon discover in my own investigations..

I noticed that no one cared when I reported an attempt on my life. They were vacant eyed, like money machines or drones for a lesser being at their remote control.   I noticed that inmates were dieing atrocious deaths and I had reports from a beloved family member of malnutrition of some longer term inmates at their jail, whom she had visited, some people who I consider family, family led astray at a young age by those derisive elements in our greater social fabric that is like a sickening mold of death and decay.

So the second fire point was to draw out the thief of the food funds, and I did it by letting those people know in the government of the first and second fire point, criminals at point one, which was the San Francisco and Sacramento FDIC.  A Sheriff Jack Tillman loomed out at me, ironically when I was led to coax the food funds thief out on April 3 of the year 2001, and he in turn took away my right to carry my firearm, despite my surviving an assassination attempt for my informing on fire point one, the FDIC, and which I had reported to local and federal authorities. (Tillman actually was hording and stealing over $300,000 from inmate food funds and men were dieing because of his neglect and abuse. The media is whitewashing and trivializing his crimes. Note: I see you and raise the ante, Jack Snatch)  I was soon to be labeled a menace to society by fire point three, a point that truly hurt but was most revealing, and it was because of what had happened most recently at point two which was tied to the burning point of point one..

The third point was not intentional.  I was seeking shelter on Veterans Administration property for a short period until I could find a home in Los Angeles, so the first two points could be manipulated and made to collide and burn themselves out. My original intent was to do so by having a stand up comedy routine using the material at burning points two and one  I suppose I was also testing to see if I had allies at point three, the federal Veterans Administration system.  I discovered they are a divided camp and I am nothing but something for some to burn, and for others to manipulate in that greater firefight, those with conscience against those without conscience. (see "Continuing Problems" section)  I do not mind if it is part of the creators goal to have eternal life for the good of all life.  If it is otherwise, I would rather have my entire family decimated before we are shackled for eternity into this nightmare I know, somewhere half way between life and death.  It is easier and preferable one way or the other and you will discover what I am talking about.  It can not go half way.  The table will be tilted, I assure you.  Self righteous faces and phrases will mean nothing.  It is the action of the needle that presages, not the other way around.  So think about that one on your religious text visit next time around.  That blood on your shoe better be your own, not mine or my family's, because you could lose your foot and then your head, and I will not do anything but point to where the needle is reflecting in the off beat on my side of the mirror, which is usually opposite and reflective in more than one dimension.  We might be a different species and then again, does it matter in the free-for-all melee?  Chaos to self destruct is molting odd and new.

They tell us to be quiet.  Sit down, shut up, and do as you are told.  Gorillas and monkeys love to play with venom spit until it is in their own damned eye.

I personally do not care.  This life has been like Hell in its more dire moments of truth and disgusting discovery.  I just want to finish the fight, the filthy, win or ooze.  It makes no difference to me, to us, not really, many just fail to realize it and run around pointing their bloodied self righteous finger in my eye and ire, if I have any at that moment that are visible or caring enough to notice.

It makes no difference now about the third point in the fire triangle, my own personal devil's triangle.  Even my computer screen has the imprint of a hoof.  It is not there by my design, but that of the creator.  The implementing of the first and second law of thermodynamics, entropy and enthalpy.  Who else would have known? Or cared?  Other than me.  I have to look at the imprint and be reminded daily that my life has become one of squalor and insipid apathy.  I saw it coming.  I knew it was here.  I came here to fight, back to this place I once respected but now see as a lesser paradise, the dope den of the bay area, with its loose morals and social decay.  I like the freedom, I despise those who pervert the beautiful things.  I despise cages and do not want to look up a man's anus, but if that is where you find paradise, I am sure someone will oblige.

 We can deflect that which is not permanent in mass, but only if we remain conscious of it.  That takes conscience to do it right, to keep our teeth from grinding to the nubs in a state of frenzied intensification of ghoulish goals.  We hate each other when we talk of war.  We feel it like we need it, to tear the others head off, like wolves in a fight.  How nice, how brutal, how clannish, until you are on the other side in a losing knife fight.  But it can't stop, and neither can I, or is it up to me at all.  After all, I am already half dead.  I stand on the outside looking in.  I understand the ooze and want no part of it, but I am drawn to look for what once was, or is it I that has changed in such magnitude?  You self righteous puritans may know what I mean and claim you may know what I need.  All I can say is, in the next life you will likely be looking up a man's anus so don't chagrin me in this one.  We are different.  I understand conscience and perhaps you do too.  I save myself in my own time.  I am used to it, after all I am half dead already, so where in the hell do you think I have been and who do you think I have been fighting with and fighting for.  It may be in the manual but I doubt it.

So here I sit in the middle of the devils triangle, hooked above or underneath the point where the real firefight started, the bay area of San Francisco.  I wanted to leave into Canada but I was denied access due to lies by that third point Los Angeles federal and state government, which was directed by the first point, San Francisco FDIC criminals.  They are still there somewhere in the FDIC.  They do not need the entire organization to run their enterprise.  It is like molded bread, and the hole is hard to start and just as hard to spot, but it is there and likely will always be.  Therefore if all indications are correct, capitalism is dead and so are we.  But half of us already know it while the others run haphazardly with eager anticipation.  Self righteous maggots ooze to the top pointing to the holes where they dwell.  I will find them all in due time or they will find me.  The needles persuade and presage.  You just think you have control of it.  We are like livid jokes with a tale to tail.

The triangle of fire, and I see it needs me now on a micro level and a macro level.  The dream I had in which the old Jewish guy and his daughter were there reminds me not to hate all the Jews for what I see as brutish carnage in Israel in modern historical accounts. (In the dream, she told her father that I was going to be burned by honest mens adversaries. I almost was burned in my vehicle in 2001, and then I was burned in America's corrupt courts by our opponents in the banking system and the judiciary. The injections on VA property and the betrayal were worst after I had been running with nowhere to go. I should have left the USA, but I did not know the VA was corrupted and indifferent and inhumane in that sector, LA VA Westwood, 2001.). I did not have any known close family burn in World War Two either, but I do understand suffering, and I understand it well, like Hell on Earth.  But how can I not spot the Muslim praying to the East on a roadside as the sun sets, while I walk with my belly full of food without poison, where I too have run to eat in peace from men or beings I once saw as brothers. That false brother(s) tells me to withdraw my talons, and my reply is, "those are not talons, and they are not mine, so watch your tongue before it splits." That is part of my job, you will understand the rest, in due time.  I tell you, we get it together or it gets us.  I do not give a spit, someone or something else does.  Just make sure it does not get in your own God D-mned eyes, and keep it out of mine.  I have no time or patience for either of you.

So if anyone else wants to go a round with Dirt Brown, step right on up. I am in the mood for love.

Mobile Audit Club Home, at your service . I remember my loving father in the New Orleans. His yoke and shackles alcohol and those cold and calloused who owned him. They do not own me and nor will they own mine. My father said we would walk the mountain together. What mountain father, "The mountain of dead bodies." My heart goes out to our people in New Orleans.

www.angelfire.com/zine2/democracyordeath

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