DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
I wrote some books
To grow your mind;
Read one or two—
It’s not a grind.
Collect the entire set.
Most books are available on amazon.com.
The world will never starve for want of wonders, but only for want of wonder.
~G.K. Chesterton in Tremendous Trifles
Books by Day Williams
BY RALPH WALDO EMERSON
Sung at the Completion of the Battle Monument, July 4, 1837
By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April’s breeze unfurled,
Here once the embattled farmers stood
And fired the shot heard round the world.
The foe long since in silence slept;
Alike the conqueror silent sleeps;
And Time the ruined bridge has swept
Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.
On this green bank, by this soft stream,
We set today a votive stone;
That memory may their deed redeem,
When, like our sires, our sons are gone.
Spirit, that made those heroes dare
To die, and leave their children free,
Bid Time and Nature gently spare
The shaft we raise to them and thee.
Nine one one was
An inside plan;
Bin Laden was
Chris Matthews Told to Stop Talking about Wall Street Banksters by Producer Live on Air During Rant https://t.co/yYFBc99hiY— Mark Dice (@MarkDice) March 23, 2016
"We are ‘ere met together— Ezra Pound (@ezrapovnd) November 18, 2013
in this momentous hower,
Ter lick th’ bankers’ dirty boots
an’ keep the Bank in power."
Most wars in human history were banker wars fought for money and power. Politics and religion are just the scapegoat for stupid people.— trutherbotgray (@trutherbotgray) October 23, 2016
The bank hath benefit of interest on all moneys which it creates out of nothing.
~William Paterson, founder of the Bank of England, 1694
Banking was conceived in iniquity and was born in sin. The Bankers own the Earth. Take it away from them, but leave them the power to create deposits, and with the flick of the pen they will create enough deposits to buy it back again. However, take it away from them, and all the great fortunes like mine will disappear, and they ought to disappear, for this would be a happier and better world to live in. But if you wish to remain the slaves of Bankers and pay the cost of your own slavery, let them continue to create deposits.
~Sir Josiah Stamp, President of the Bank of England in the 1920s, the second richest man in Britain.
“Every war begins with a false flag.”
We needed cause to pull U.S. to war
Across the ocean, for the people run
Toward pacifism, and we grow our profits
From stores of ammunition, food, and guns;
We said the ship had no munitions–lies–
The submarine torpedoed our deceit.
In ‘41 we practiced more deceit;
Americans stayed clear of Europe’s war
Until we roused them, starting with our lies
Of Yellow Peril, and we knew they’d run
When bombs dropped in the harbor, run for guns
To fight the war and multiply our profits.
We “couped” the man who would have shrunk our profits,
Set up a patsy through our skilled deceit,
So the Joint Chiefs would have to buy more guns;
With a false flag we escalated war
While young Americans shed blood on runs
Over rice paddies, based on simple lies.
In a new century they worked (our lies):
The Towers had to fall to grow our profits
In war against the Mideast lands; we run
Our pretexts through the media’s deceit
To demonize the innocent, so war
Will spread and we’ll earn profits selling guns.
The key: We scare the populace with guns
We sell to terrorists—we tell our lies
About the mass-destructive weapons; war
Will come as lies increase, so will the profits
We rake in, thanks to media deceit
With which we shape opinion, as we run
To vaults to stack our gold near the ski runs
And push to take away the Sheeple’s guns
With false flags, hoaxes, with so much deceit
We’ll conquer freedom where she dares to lie.
With obstacles removed, we’ll count our profits
Across the cemeteries from the wars.
For decades through deceit and death and lies
We’ve had our joyful runs, and we still gun
For profits, benefits of endless wars.
Jan. 1, 2015
Where do wars come from?
A group of people own the banks that control the governments and mainstream media. They create public approval by stimulating fear and anger toward the “enemy” via use of propaganda and staged violence. They profit off these wars while the people pay in taxes and lives. Haven’t you seen 1984?
All Wars are Bankers' Wars – a mind blower on so many levels https://t.co/gpgTfbBVML— StephO (@bixiezip) January 16, 2016
"Wars are made to make debt."— Ezra Pound (@ezrapovnd) November 1, 2013
As long as empires go about urging their ideas on others, I always have a notion the ideas are no good. If they were really so splendid, they would make the country preaching them a wonder of the world. That’s the true ideal; a great nation ought not to be a hammer, but a magnet. ~G. K. Chesterton
Spray in the Strife
I read fake news today oh boy
Another hit piece on the D.C. King;
And as the piece was by a cad
Known as a deadbeat dad,
The story didn’t add
Up, being shallow and bizarre;
It claimed he had some Russian friends–so strange
Because the writer seemed impaired;
I’d read his trash before;
None doubted that he’d been procured
By bankers and a sorcerer.
I watched a vid today, oh boy;
The Company had pushed another war;
A crowd of criminals found ways
To cook the black op books,
Having paid the crooks.
I’d love to cuff your pawns.
Spoke up, they censored me,
Tagged for saying let’s be free;
Pushed around and sprayed while cops stood down;
And frowning much, I noticed that I bled.
They stole my coat like spoiled brats,
Boarded the bus like desert rats;
Flipped me off and glared like crazy folks;
Somebody joked about their brutal schemes.
I read fake news today oh boy
Ten thousand holes in every article
And though the holes had grown each hour,
They shoved them in the shower.
Now they know how many holes it takes to make the Langley power.
I’d love to cuff your pawns.
The prophet Jonah ran to sea when called
To preach to Nineveh; poor Jonah stalled
Until the waves rose high around the ship−
Then truth, that God was there, came from his lips.
The sailors threw poor Jonah overboard,
The prophet Jonah who defied the Lord;
In a great fish the prophet prayed three days
And nights, and gave the Lord his songs and praise.
The Lord heard Jonah’s prayers and made command,
And the fish spewed the prophet on dry land.
The prophet heard the voice of God again:
“Go preach in Nineveh to all its men.”
When Jonah preached that Nineveh would fall
In forty days, the city’s monarch called
On citizens to cry to God, to fast
In rags, for God’s hot wrath is deep and vast.
When God saw sinners turn from former ways,
He put aside the fury that had blazed,
But Jonah, angered by the Lord‘s soft heart,
Left Nineveh to watch, a man apart.
The Lord gave him a vine that grew as shade,
Then sent a worm, which left the vine decayed,
And Jonah was irate about the vine,
Which had been comfort from the sun that shined.
“This vine sprang up and overnight it died;
It wasn’t you who made it grow!” God cried,
“Yet Nineveh is great; should I not care
When I have men by thousands living there?”