Monday, May 2, 2011

The Adopted Child Killed: Osama bin ladin

I think it's horrible.

I am not saying I was "for" him, but I had prayed and felt he was a valuable person in God's eyes and it doesn't matter what religion you are, if you love God with all your heart and are trying to do what you think is right, this counts for something.

Some people in the U.S. made him out to be the #1 enemy when he wasn't. He just wasn't. There are other governments and militias even, that are worse. He didn't advocate any kind of torture of anyone.

Did you ever think about that?

None of his group tortured people. They may have killed a few people out of self-defense or with the desperation in trying to get someone's attention to the plight of their children, but did you ever stop to think that his militia was more righteous than that of the U.S.?

Show me one example of torture from their group.

If they tortured anyone, it was extremely rare.

They were not sadistic people, out to cause endless suffering for no reason. Their attacks were in desperation to defend their country.

Do you know why the Russians maybe decided they didn't like me? in the U.S.? Why would the Russian and Ukranian group fry me in their own Baptist church. Believe me, it wasn't all of them. But they would only do this, and then submit ideas to the royal family that I was nuts, if they thought Al Quaeda was a group I would defend, because they hated them.

The U.S. defended Osama and his group, against the Russians. They trained Osama and worked with him and then all they wanted to do later was use him for mind control experimentation and research. At the very end, Panetta decided he was useless and too dangerous and killed him.

I look at all of those people around the desk, in the CNN photo and think about why they would even want to be photographed at all.

They have become proud of killing someone that THEY raised. They trained, supported, and raised a child and then killed that child. This is like taking in an adopted child and calling that child your own, feeding it, and loving it and nurturing the child and then setting it out to fly from the nest without your help and hoping they do okay for themselves. Your hands are off, but you hope they will be alright. In the end, you turn your own hand against your very own child and say this child is your #1 enemy. You killed the very child you said you were adopting.

Not only that, when you look at this a little more closely, it's worse. At some point, driven by money and prestige, you get offered money.


Money looked good to you, didn't it? Or passage and free ticket? You start mulling over the possibility of becoming a millionaire, or billionaire, or having better protection for your biological children and decide...hmmm...that kid really isn't worth it. I have 30 pieces of silver and I want to allow others to experiment with this child. I'll get paid, and it might be for the "betterment" of the world. So you decide this is fascinating and sometimes amusing, and really, truly incredible. Amazing what science and supernatural can do. So fascinating you are willing to track your child all over the place and watch and wait and be amazed as they carry out tasks you couldn't expect of a better Manchurian candidate. Not only that, you are telling all the neighbors how terrible your own child is.

"MARGE! Beware, because my kid is out of control and if you don't mind, I'd like to slip you a few bucks if you'll endure the disaster that may come your way--he just got a new bike and I'm not sure he knows how to use it yet."

One of you thought he would ride on the sidewalk, and the other one thought he would ride through the flowerbed. He ended up doing a little bit of both and you pointed and laughed to yourselves and watched and then paid Marge for her trouble in having to fix her garden up.

Then you gave him his first bee-bee gun. "MARGE! He has a gun now, so watch out. Let us know if you have too many problems. He may blow out a window. If he hits the cats or dogs, let us know."

You watched him and wondered, with binoculars, if he was going to go after the cat. "Look at him go! I wonder if he'll go after the targets and ducks or if he'll want to go after a live animal."

"I don't know Earnest, but one thing is for sure...He is good with a gun."

"How do you know? He hasn't shot at anything yet."

"I just know. He's been living under our noses for how long? and I just know."

"Wow! HE wanted the CAT! Didja see that?! I wonder if we should put him in martial arts or something...Maybe we could pay his parents or convince them to put him in and see how he does."

"Did you see how he looked though?"


"Did you see how he looked after he hurt the animal? He looked sad and then he went out and buried it."

On on and on, giving the child one tool after the other, and training and coaching and then backing off to say, "This is a dangerous wild man and we don't know what to do." Suddenly, you're calling out a SWAT team, after watching him try to fight for his people as he ended up doing, and saying there is something wrong with him, and all along you know he is only trying to defend people so they have a place to live, to sleep and rest, to practice their religion, go to church, have a job, and live in the same freedom and peace that the U.S. says they are known for.

While he goes on to kill some animals and try to find food and land to live off of for his people, he has a brother. This brother is the biological child that ends up enjoying torture of animals. He doesn't just want to kill for food, or to protect himself--he wants to know what the animal will do if it's put in a cage and prodded at and then turns the light on and off for hours. Next, he hooks this animal up with the loudest and worst music you could imagine and cranks it up on high. That's what people hear about later and what they do not hear about is how someone's eardrums and other systems are being tampered with and manipulated by a variety of ray guns, tasers, and every form of new technology that one could imagine. This is the rich brother, that has enough money for labratories and play rooms and acreage. This rich brother buys a bunch of animals and enslaves them all, and for every lot he enslaves, he receives money from another group that is glad to have more territory for themselves. "Thanks for doing us the favor" they say, as they hand over the money. He says no problem and looks guilty, but that's maybe the only emotion he feels anymore--temporary guilt. Those who are paying him encourage him and pump him up, telling him he is one of the secret heroes and is doing the world an enormous service and it's really better this way--to have more for those who stay in line and are our friends, and they tell him, "We know it has to be really hard for you, to torture the animals and know others do too and do worse, but the outcome is that we save more lives and learn how to use the people we want to affect the changes we want."

They say the success proves that God is on their side.

God is on their side as much as Timbuktoo. But to them, it's true, because they accurately said God was on their side when they counted money to be their God.

The U.S. kept their commitments. Should we be proud of this?

They killed the son that was merciful and then they feed and clothe and pay the sons who are actively torturing others. They killed Saddam too, and he tortured his own family, but they can't see how they have done the exact same thing by torturing their own citizens.

Osama bin ladin wasn't torturing me. U.S. citizens have been torturing me. I know because after he died, I was still being tortured.

The day before he was killed, the night when I was assaulted in chapel and left just before I heard the Katherine-with-allergies movie playing, I had the worst feeling. Then it got better as I was blogging but that's all I did. I went downtown and there was nothing in me that wanted to dance or go out and party. I did start feeling a very powerful energy when I started writing about a few things. I didn't know where it was coming from but I felt it. And then it was so strong it was almost like the feeling of being in love. It was like God's love was filling me all the way through. Then I went to the bathroom at some point and prostrated myself on the floor and waited but got nothing. I did it just to honor God. Later, I prayed on my knees. And then the next morning, I felt this need to pray again, on my knees. I prayed and touched my head to the floor and when my knees hurt I told myself to stay on my knees. I also had, several times, prayed with my hands up upon a wall or a door. But not that night. That night I was on my knees. It is possible that I saw Osama right after praying on my knees with my forehead to the floor. I wondered if someone was praying to Mecca or doing the Muslim prayer. But I also think it was maybe when I was at the library and closed my eyes to wonder at the strong positive energy I felt and to pray again and I did, that morning, pray to God, "Please show me something that no one could get, and it can be about anyone, and let it be something to show your power and glorify you." I believe it was when I took a break in my typing because then I wondered if he was reading my blog as I wrote because of how I saw him, but then I thought, probably he never reads my blog and doesn't know English.

I saw Osama's face and he was leaning back and his mouth was open in shock or surprise. I saw his eyes and whole face and don't know what he was wearing but pretty sure he had on a turban.

And then I thought, "The U.S. knows where he is." I had said that before but then I thought, they had been monitoring or surveilling him somehow and might even have a way to see his face if they had a hidden camera or something.

I felt so much love during this whole time, like a lot of people were praying and this feeling of love, which is why I typed "I love you. I love you too." I'm not saying that was directed to HIM. It was directed to someone I'm connected to or to the Holy Spirit and it was very strong. And then at the same time, I wondered why I'd had this sight of Osama.

I felt this sadness and everything felt wrong when I was leaving the library at about 5 p.m. when they close. I noticed some people there who were gloating at me and I wondered why since I figured the wedding was the big thing anyone cared about. Then I walked out and some Eastern Indian men drove by laughing at me. Making fun of me. A car of at least 4 of them. I walked and then called because something felt wrong. After getting ahold of someone, my grandmother, we talked and then I felt better. Then I went through this market and smelled some flowers and looked at some things and then I was in another section and I felt this horrible vibe so I moved to the other side and all of a sudden, there were kids everywhere and I looked up and Muslim women in full headwear and veils, so that only their eyes were showing. And I thought it was so strange because before I even saw them, I started to feel powerful energy again. And then I walked by and after I did I looked back and they were looking my way and nodded and sort of bowed their heads. Then I got to the shelter and sat there and felt powerful strong and good energy but I was tired. I got bed and then it hit--this terrible feeling that something was very wrong. And it was at about 8 p.m. that I felt this, that something was wrong. It may be that someone got the news about this time, I don't know.

I slept and then I woke up with my hair curled to discover Osama had been killed. I thought about what I had seen and wished I had written about it because maybe it would have made a difference.

It seems to me that Panetta and Catholic law enforcement have literally jumped, JUMPED to capture anyone at all that they think knows anything about what's happened to me and my son.

If I saw a look of shock and surprise on Osama it may have been from something I wrote, if he did read my blog and if this is why I saw him when I asked God. Or, if it wasn't that, maybe he was shocked and surprised by who had betrayed him. Possibly, he knew something was coming ahead of time.

When I wrote about seeing his face, I had then, when I first blogged about it, I then only read it was something like an air strike. So I didn't know why I would see his face. After I wrote this, an article said it was a hand-combat type and people saw him. But I saw him when he was still alive.

I read the article about finding him, with John Brennan claiming, "We decapitated the head of the snake" and think to myself, "Right." You, Mr. Brennan, are the snake. Panetta and Brennan call a man who never tortured anyone a "snake" and they both have actively given out orders and consented to torture of others.

Some testimony of your faith. To have those who claim they know Jesus Christ killing someone who never tortured anyone, when they themselves are engineers and masterminds of torture, is one of the most infamous reversals of our time.

It is no victory. It is a shame on the head of the Catholic church and those who profess this religion. It is also a shame on the heads of those Jewish who knew he was not the worst person out there.

Instead of bringing peace and unity and bringing people together, when it was possible to do so, they killed him.

The U.S. is hiding those responsible for betraying him. Some of them live in the United States.

I just read this article of the raid and next to it popped up an ad: "Deals today, gone tomorrow."

I really think this has become a very sick place.

What is sad is that so many good Protestants even, believe everything they read and assume he really was evil and wanted to kill them all when nothing is farther from the truth.

How symbolic that the Army Corp now wants to blow up a bridge between two rivers. Right after they demolished a relationship, celebrated a wedding they killed for, and then assasinated a good man.

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