Desperate Signals

    Please. Hear me.

    We are captives of a brutal peace. Another spectacle made of blood, suffering another forceful assault. Anther succession of mortal explosions and the corporeal fire that burns even the air. A proud legacy of street-level violence. Machine gun mounted motorbikes and government guns on pickup trucks flying vulgar presidential banners fire into the gathered crowds. Public protester executions. Beheadings and gauntlets. Gassing socialists with illegal chemicals. Hacked thousands flee as refugees.

    There is an inequitable Armageddon at the door – the imbalance of munitions and humiliations over hunger and rotting sickness. We’ve scuttled past the strong war warnings to push the clock forward – the symbol of our destruction.

    We are traded for betrayal. And the same fate for many undefined sins against the state and houses of dynamite. Times of trouble such as never was such a wasteland. Repeated. Desperate rejections of this regime. We are begging in waves. The blood of ten thousand. The day after and again repeated. The fallout of chaotic response.

    The artillery ambitions and strategies of the resource savages – those who buy and sell the world beneath and cap the sky above have brokered evil in this place. Millions of tons of debris, the rubble of ruined lives and unexploded ordnance. We know the wickedness of their weapons. We know the vanity of their lives. We are nothing but physical potential forces to be added up, accounted. The ledger of our lives allows only a little fight. The military turned in and the open energy of our vitality transferred out.

    All military economies are thus. No neighborly peace, no negotiated truce behind locked doors. Savage battle is how things are done here in the crucible of war. Exploitation and salted earth. No cease fire for bitter arguments. Cold blood despots make sick peace jokes. The catastrophe of intimidation power. Normal procedures are followed for murder – in secret, unacknowledged or publicly documented. Either way there should be no flesh saved.

    We are besieged. This is the plain and forecasted truth with dangers exposed. The infrastructure of invasion turned inward. All choke points secured. Cut off by simultaneous offenders. It is an open secret. The poisonous promotions of violence and horror. It’s a game to them. “Shooter, shoot her!” comes a faceless command from the demons of common criminality and civil battery.

    From the ramparts of history, we’ve been raised – to live and die within the walls of a conquered city, but we are silenced in this day. Four years already and three years more. And then? Our desperate signals sent out, stand up nation to nation. Land or sea. Still there is no response and the days are unshortened.

    Please. You know the answer.

A History of American Exceptionalism – Part 1

    Great force pirates raided coast towns, year after year, decade after decade. Terror in France, Italy, Portugal and Spain. As far as Britain, Ireland in the 1800s. Now Algeria, Libya, Tunisia and Iceland. All across the North African Atlantic.

    But currents were shifting to some unpromoted American paradise.

    Consider the victims killed and surrendered. A brutal menace and sporadic crime. Ragged political division from Mediterranean misfits. Powers traded. Scourged on choppy waters. Trading in Holy Human Bondage. Paying tribute, but never debts. Fugitive and furtive. Chastised but unpunished.

    Recent attention has been drawn to two new forces: Straight death and Twisted videos. The soul of American Evangelicals wrestled into submission. Forced downside into conditional rejection. Their soul sold for a pittance. Traded for unexceptional power. Drinking from putrid puddles. American commerce.

    The plan failed. Hypocrisy crept back in. Barbarity increased.

    Refuse conditionalism. Forever forced. Burning. Forever burning. Incense and refuse.

What more do you want me to tell you? Rarely has one voice spoken thus. Welcome to the last word. Language is too poor for power – Killing joy and exaltations. Who would receive it?

A Daily Resistance – March 29, 2026

     … give me a trained tongue, that I may continue, even with a weary word…

    The Sons of Violence are marching in the street. The distractions of tomorrow’s world are here today. The lines of war are drawn, redrawn, erased, and mapped. The threat reemerges. Tensions between China and Taiwan. Between China aggressions, and Iranian loss, and Russian expansion. Israeli annexation action. Tortures abroad and at home. Violent pyrotechnics and pyro-techniques. Ignite!

    … I was not rebellious. I will not turn back…

    Today they are pushing. Even now they’re striking. Dead of night dissidents dragged out without seeing the nationalist kill/steal numbers. What did we see? What did we say? Nothing and nothing. Blacked out. Redacted. Those files will also not be released.

    … give my back for blows, pull my beard. Insult and spit in my face…

    We have no legal framework for the common depression and unproductive desires of our fellow Americans. Citizens and Secondhand wage slaves. Bought and sold. Corporate interest and interest rates rule. Military industrialists will have it all. Past examples carry forward. Past examples argue against truth. Doctors tried for treason for setting a broken leg. Insurrectionists demanding the head of the Vice President.

    … I have not been disgraced. I will not be put to shame…

    I have all the ache and fatigue, of living. The nervous chills – without the fever. Death and explosion. Destabilized. Life is over. Sorry pounding at the door.

    … Who are my adversaries? Let them confront me. Who will declare me guilty?

I Have Noticed and I Have Seen

    When wisdom has become the least of these (after a long period of low demand), heart and knowledge. Clean. Free. Clear. But nothing’s yours. And nothing is mine. Discretion and understanding have become a menace. Simple observation is not encouraged.

    What about us? Here where we live and breathe. Where we buy our groceries and go to church.

    We must be unoppresed – free to lift ourselves from every yoke. My head without, my soul still hungry. Goodness and all the day’s security. Dark-dwelling in the house of the Lord. The hungry, cast out. The naked, thrown down. I notice my own flesh too.

    When will we see the word as written?

    We are teachers without questions. We are leaders without strategy. A nation with a soul for greed, for power. We are investigators without a clue. We are travelers without a map. These are all variations of the same story. News without media. Politicians without honor. Is this the family you’ve always wanted?

    Do whatever you need to do, but keep in mind that I am not a theologian, not professionally. Neither am I a doctor, a priest, or psychologist. But I have seen the finger writing on the wall.

The Absolute Grounds

    The absolute grounds have shifted and we have fallen.

    The threat of arrest and/or assassination – we’re in this together. All of us implicated. All of us complicit. My discouraged mind dissents. My hovering hand falters, my wounded heart … my heart… Oh, God, my heart. A serious exchange for a tedious response.

    Trapped by inaction into inaction. Submission.

    No. No. This cannot be real. This is not the reality I recognize. But this war continues with or without us. Drags us down into the abyss. We are wrong. We are wrong. We are made guilty.
    
    Daily missile attacks. No access to food or water. Flash bang. The head jerks backward. Eyes roll. Alarming video released to the press. I cannot talk about it. Transformed. Unlived. I need… I need… I can’t even say any more. The words have been stolen. Abducted. Murdered in the street.

    A serious exchange for a tedious response. Don’t try to force it. There’s no accounting. Shortened time. Fault lines. High explosive gunpowder, blueprints and plans. Twenty-five minutes too far. Shot down. Crash and fire. Fire! Fire! A fire, a fire…

    American troops. Iranian mothers. Gazan children. Israeli ambassadors. My son. My daughter. My brothers and sisters everywhere. Knocked out. Upside down. We’ve lost the horizon. We’re going to crash. We are going to die.