Every morning now, I wake to the sound of mortar practice from a nearby military camp. They are ramping it up as they always do just before we topple yet another regime that doesn't play ball with the psychopaths that occupy our ZOG.
The end of our reign will come from without...not from Miley Cyrus twerking for jews. Not from code pink. We will have to be spanked by a more moral entity. And that will happen. I hope to see, before I join the choir invisible, just one more state-sponsored necktie party. One hosted by forces outside this empire. One that simultaneously happens in Tel-Aviv as it happens on Pennsylvania avenue. But it's kinda obvious that we S&M burger-eaters do not have such vision. That is for others. We have resigned our ability to judge. And that's okay too. As it should be. We need discipline and Miley is not slapping her butt quite hard enough. There are others in the world that will be glad to show this Mouseketeer-turned-pole-dancer how it is effectively accomplished.
I have said that I welcome all that is coming to us, and of course, reluctantly, I do. We will not come out of this last bit of hubris resembling anything like what we are now. The fate of empires gone by will pale in comparison to what we have coming. And as justice always is, it will me merciless. Which is a shame. But you pay for your indifference as much as you pay for your participation. The deal is done, I'm afraid. You might as well put your Harley on Craig's list...you won't be needing it any longer.
If it doesn't come immediately following the strikes on Syria, then it will come in the wake of many nations allying with them in the aftermath. Russia, China, Iran...it will come. The endgame moves have already been made by the zionists through their proxy states. They leave the above-mentioned powers no choice. And I will be on their side...in spirit. I DO love to see the bully get his comeuppance. I will have a ring-side seat this go-round.
I don't see anything...culturally speaking...worth saving here anyway. Except for the well-meaning "I just want to get on with my life" dumbclucks. These saps are once again going to pay for Yom Kippur bet-hedging. No more birthday parties for young daughters. No more vacations at the lake with the family. No more teaching your son how to fish. No more weekend gardening with the parents. Shame, really. Those things that we look back on(those things other than a sit-com that we can barely remember)are things that will be missed. Shame. But these things weren't good enough for us. These things are about to be taken away forever. Shame. And shame is what you should feel, having sold these things for a bit of twerking. Oh well. It was your choice.
Miley's guns are calling. Better turn on your TV and watch the