Year: 2020

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Operation Paperclip – A Reference Point

I think I mentioned in a prior post, when I wrote “The War Within”, it was supposed to be  a romance novel. Well, that didn’t happen. Obviously.

Research began with that which I needed to feel comfortable writing about the military service of my main character’s husband. I started with the internet. One thing led to another, and soon I had opened a can of worms.

Then down the rabbit hole I went. I’m still there. My head is still spinning from the information I found. Some people call me a conspiracy theorist because I continue to discuss the  manipulation and criminal activity of not only the American government, but governments and NGO’s across the world too.

One of the resources I used when writing “The War Within” was “Operation Paperclip” written by Annie Jacobsen.

“Operation Paperclip” was one of the many covert operations hidden within the Intelligence community and the military complex. It was what began the mind control programs on American soil. In addition to many other experiments on human subjects.

Annie Jacobsen goes into great detail about what the CIA tried to brush off as a “conspiracy theory”. She showed how the American government brought to the States all the German scientist after World War II, who should have been tried under the Nuremberg Trials or were tried and released. Originally, the operation was called Operation Overcast but it became more commonly known as Operation Paperclip.

The scientists were brought to the USA for many reasons. Some specialized in aerodynamics and rocketry. Others worked specifically with weapons and chemical reactions technology and medicine. All these scientists were secretly brought to the States, along with their families. This without State Department review or approval. Approval would never have been granted because of the association of these scientists  to Hitler’s Third Reich, many who were considered war criminals.

Almost 500 scientists were deployed to White Sands Proving Ground, Fort Bliss in New Mexico. Others were sent to Texas and Huntsville, Alabama to work with the guided missiles program which later became NASA.

Annie Jacobsen, through many hours of interviews, and after reviewing the archives, and reviewing files made available through the Freedom of Information Act, along with other archived government documents, has compiled a work that is eye opening and informative.

Anyone who wishes to know more about the crimes committed by governments and other institutes within the States, should read “Operation Paperclip”. It was quite helpful to me while I wrote “The War Within”.

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Another Voice Another Vote

The citizens of the United States of America are empowered with rights that could move mountains. Such rights should cause us to race to the polls and vote. Unfortunately, not everyone takes this right seriously.

In recent years we have seen a vast change in how we view politics. This blog is not going to be infused with politics in any form. I can’t mention voting without mentioning the elephant in the room. It is the reason we vote. I believe it is also the reason we are see an increased interest in voting and the voting process.

There is a long history of suffrage in this country. One equal to that of the vote. The topic has shaken up the masses at different times in history.

The first vote took place within hours of the landing of the Jamestown voyagers on April 26, 1607, according to their calendar. It was the first attempt at voting on American soil. It was also the beginning of corruption. The commanders of 105 colonialists of Williamsburg unsealed a box containing a list of seven men picked in England who would be the colony’s council. They would select one of the seven as president.

We all remember Captain John Smith. They denied him a seat initially on suspicion of concealing a mutiny. Because they eliminated John Smith from the vote, that left six men, less than six percent of the population, to take part in the choice for president. Six men were the voice for the 105 colonists. Ninety-nine voices remained silent, choked out by the king’s rule.

This country has come a long way from colonial Williamsburg. We have suffered many growing pains. In the early years, they allowed only wealthy white men to vote. Male landowners controlled the interest of the population. Eventually, that changed, and it allowed all white males to vote.

In 1870 they granted the African American male population the right to vote through the fifteenth amendment. Many things didn’t change for this demographic, but it was the beginning of change. It would be almost a hundred years before the civil rights movement would cause a greater change.

We went through the woman’s suffrage movement. This movement broke down the barriers that had, for centuries, snuffed out the voice of women. They finally gave women the right to vote on August 18, 1920, when Congress ratified the nineteenth amendment.

The United States is a melting pot of ethnicity. “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!” (Statue of Liberty). This country welcomes the masses, through its gates (by means of citizenship). In welcoming them we give them the right to be a voice for themselves as well as for the country.

I hope each one of you finds the time today to make your voice heard.

Photo by Element5 Digital on Unsplash

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A Very Cold Night! Especially for the Homeless

 I sit here tonight in my warm house, listening to the wind blow just outside my window. I know quite well, it’s cold out there. Just before settling in to write this blog, I looked at the thermometer, which reads a negative 4 degrees!

Now I sit here typing as I listen to the wind. I can’t help but think of the people that may be out on the street. I don’t mean people that are out for an evening of frolic and fun. I’m thinking of the homeless right now. I can’t help but worry about those that have no shelter when the weather is like this. If you think about those who are cold tonight if you put yourself in their shoes…

I pull the thin parka around me as my muscles tense up, my body’s reaction to the cold. My jaw gets tight as I try to keep my teeth from chattering while the wind whips through the street. It creeps in behind my neck, forcing its way down my back. I reach up and lift the collar of the coat, stretching it to reach my exposed ears as the cold air burns through my flesh. I’m torn between protecting my cold ears with the jacket and the desire to push my hands deep into the pockets to keep them warm. It’s no use. There is no relief. The cold is too much.

I continue walking, hoping to find shelter from the cold wind. My face is burning now from the cold air. My nose is running. I reach up to wipe away what has dripped off the tip of my nose. I have to laugh as I realize ice has collected just there. I keep going if for no other reason than to keep my blood moving. If I don’t stand still, if I keep walking, my blood will continue to work its way through my body, keeping me, well not warm, but alive. I turn as the passing car interrupts my thoughts. They don’t even notice me. They look right through me as if I’m not standing here freezing. I’m not surprised. I see that all the time.

I’ve now reached the alley I’m hoping will at least shelter me from the wind. I lean against the brick as I slide down that wall and sit, curled up, hoping I can produce enough heat to keep my blood moving. My teeth are chattering again. My joints are getting stiff. Maybe I shouldn’t sit still.

I’m really tired. I need to rest for a little while; then, I’ll get up and move around some. I sit quietly with my thin jacket wrapped tightly around me. I can hear the noise of the night floating away. I can see my breath, so I must still be alive. It’s getting colder. I’m so tired. My eyelids are getting heavy. I force them open and look around one more time.

I see no one; I only hear voices as they slowly drift off into the night.

My feet are tingling. Maybe it’s warming up. My neck hurts, I need to straighten up. Instead, I lean over and lay down, curling up tighter into a ball. I think my breathing is getting shallow. No, I’m just tired. I can’t stay awake; I don’t want to stay awake. If I sleep, I won’t feel the cold. I don’t want to be cold anymore. I’ll rest for a while. It’s okay, just for a few min….

The image above is the life of a young girl freezing in an alley. Will she wake up and walk to stay alive? Or will she freeze there curled up in a ball against that brick wall? You won’t know because this is where the vision ends.

Her story is the story of many homeless people in this country that fight to stay alive during the long winter months. Each of singularly may not be able to do away with the reality that is portrayed in this short vision. But collectively, we can make a difference.

Please take a few minutes this winter to locate a shelter in your area and donate what you can to help those in need of a warm place to stay during the frigid winter months.

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Sandbox

When my girls were children they spent hours outside. Usually playing in the sandbox under the swing set, I built for them. I often think about those simple days gone by. This poem was a way to remember the good old days.

Sand Box

I look out my back window

At where you used to play

I smile as I remember

All the sunny days

I recall your laughter

As I’d sit and watch you play

In the sandbox that I built for you

Where you’d want to spend the day

At times the sand became a tower

And then it would be gone

Only to become a creation

That came from your precious mind

No matter what you built or made

I loved to watch you play

In the sandbox that I built for you

Those were special days

You’ve since grown up

And moved away

But the memories they remain

The sandbox that I built for you

Will never be the same

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What Happened to the Dream?

Watch as Martin Luther King Jr, stands and speaks peacefully to the masses. The speech, broadcast during a time of civil disobedience, a time of upheaval and inequality, not only by color but by creed and gender. Look into the crowd of people who stand and listen peacefully.

“Let freedom ring,” he says.

He is a man who had a message. He got his message across by peacefully addressing the crowd. In earlier times, police arrested him in his protesting efforts; however, it was when he gathered peacefully in our Nation’s Capitol to share his vision for our country that the people heard him!

He had a dream rooted in the American dream.

“One day this nation will rise and live out the true meaning of its dream ‘we hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal.’”

He stood in front of the monument of President Lincoln that only days prior protester defiled for what it represents, I’m sure he chose that spot because of the message President Lincoln tried to communicate many years earlier, one of which he quoted.  

He had a dream that the content of their character, not the color of their skin, would judge people. Today people protest and defile the monuments and statues that represent our history. A history that our forefathers suffered, so we could grow into the country we were so close to becoming.

What does that say about the character of those that spread such hate?      

We are living in a time of great disrespect, not only for one another but our history. You can’t erase history by removing the evidence of what occurred. In removing and defiling and denying, we only prolong the inevitable.

Turn your back on what was, and it will be again.

Hate and dissension will rear its ugly head. It will fester and infect our society and cause the dis-ease of what we are trying to eradicate. People protest in the name of peace and equality, yet they project and infect the country with hate. Hate does not encourage dialog; it causes the human mind to shut down to reason; it breeds more hatred. If people think by removing our countries monuments, it will cause people to change their views; I believe they are nieve. Here is an example. I use it because it has been in our faces for weeks. If we remove Confederate monuments, does that change history? Does that negate the struggle? Does it remove the lesson learned? Removing the statue does not change the story.

Did the Romans remove the Colosseum because of what it represented, the inhumane treatment of both man and animal? No. They left it as a reminder of what went on. They left it so that generations to come could tell the story and remember what not to do or how to behave.  

By removing the monuments in the South, does it remove the Confederate conflict? If so, it must also remove the struggle experienced by the slave? Do we so want to disrespect the suffering on both sides?    

In this lesson, I think we are failing to remember something. Behind the monuments are men, women, children, families, and communities. Each one suffered in their way. Each one had an experience that was not conducive to love or kindness or fairness.

They continued to live. Our forefathers erected monuments to remember what happened and to facilitate healing. Just because a man fought for slavery, doesn’t mean he believed in it. Men fight for their state or country. When they go to war, they go because their government calls them. They go because they respect their state and want to be obedient.

It isn’t always a personal preference. By erecting monuments, they are offering respect for those that fought and died as human beings. They are mourning the loss of human life.

Remember… All lives matter. Take it down to a personal level. Every human being suffers and deserves to heal. We need to come together as a country as one people. The world is watching us. We, who once was a great example to the world, have become a joke. We no longer deserve the respect we once had. If we can’t play nice in the sand, how can we expect the rest of the world to do so?  

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I Am Arjuna – Bhagavad Gita

I am Arjuna. I am he, who’s called to fight. To kill. To liberate.

The image that stares back at me is fighting with she who studies that body, that spirit, that soul. The soul that signed the contract that would teach her who she truly is.

My dark night of the soul pulls me into the depth of my inner self. It struggles with the lives I have lived in this one lifetime. My soul now calls me to see myself, not as the flesh and blood that walks the earth today. But to see my divine nature.

I am now called to the struggle between life and death. No, not suicide. I am called to awaken. It is time to see my soul self and be that which the creator created me to be.

Love.

I am Arjuna. I am he, who listens to the teacher.

When I study the image of the face looking back at me, I stare into the eyes that are the window to the soul.

I am called to fight, yet I love. How can I destroy that which I have become comfortable with, that which I have grown to know so intimately.

The struggles I’ve lived with and survived, are now part of me. I cling to them as a drowning person would cling to the life vest. It is all I know.

I am Arjuna. I am he, the brave warrior.

I am called to face my fears. To stare down that which challenges me. That which stirs within me, the ultimate fight or flight nature.

The longer I stand in front of the image, the greater the need to know the truth.

I am love, yet I am called by the inner stirring to fight. I now fight for the love that is buried deep within, waiting to be rescued.

I long to breathe the fresh air and feel the warmth of the sun shining on my face. I long to be released from the prison of which I place myself. It is time to be released from the dark night that has held me in a state of nothingness.

I am Arjuna. I am he who rejoices in the light.

Darkness recedes as the light fills my soul. Beckoning me to shine, a light so bright it lights up the world.

I am the expression of my soul. My true divine self has risen and continues to shine bringing forth a love so great it will never be contained.

I am Arjuna.

We are all Arjuna.

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The Silent Children

There are evil things going on in the world that most people know nothing about. Human trafficking is happening and has been happening for centuries.

I’m sharing a video with you today about the world of human trafficking. The video I’m sharing is a documentary film that was started by Lisa Beane and Leroy Moore (Dave Matthews Band). Chris Cornell joined Leroy and Lisa as a financial backer to the project. Chester Bennington, Linkin Park producer joined as a collaborator.

To stress the severity of exposing human trafficking, I must tell you that the only person who worked on the documentary that is still alive is Lisa Beane.

Please pray for all those who continue to work to expose human trafficking. They take their lives in their hand every time they open their mouth.