From the Heart

It’s been a while since my last blog, I’ve been cut off the internet due to both a lack of funds and a misunderstanding with my provider, the politicians have got away with claiming up to £6000 a piece for their council tax (and I am still of the belief this crime pales to insignificance in comparison to the grander scale of things) and I’m being taken to court because I couldn’t pay a meagre £80 council tax within the specified time limit, my bank is looking to squeeze blood out of a stone, the T.V. licensing people now have my mobile number and have been sending me threatening text’s to remind me to pay the BBC for our militaries black op’s propaganda and on top of that someone’s been spreading the rumour that I’m a hooker, prostitute, call girl, call it what you will and I didn’t think it could get much worse. On the first week I allowed my youngest son, since moving into my new house to walk to the bus on his own a young pregnant woman was randomly murdered on the same path by some man who has a history of using psychiatric drugs, in fact we’ve had two knife murders in this tiny little town within the same space of weeks and one of our finest old buildings has been burned to the ground. All of this since Gordon Brown decided he would hold an inquiry into the Iraq war. It’s not easy being the step daughter of a member of our military’s top brass Masonic boys club.

I have also spoken to my stepfather for the first time in a couple of years. He was in Asda with his youngest son the undertaker and we all happened to exit the shop at the same time. He said “hello Ann-Marie I hear you have a lot on your plate these days“. For the first time in years I was completely at a loss as to how I should react, I am so very disappointed in the fact that I froze, all I could do was feel the hurt, grief and disappointment in the knowledge that I am related to one of the most treacherous inhumane butchers that ever walked this earth. I could only let my eyes speak for me being afraid that had I opened my mouth I may not have been able to control what came out of it. My little warrior son said everything else as he was so offended at the fact he’d spoken to me after everything he’s put me through he couldn’t control himself and said so. The big brave explosives expert ex staff sergeant Royal Engineer attached to the Para’s that’s so good at scheming yet never seen genuine active service in his life couldn’t argue with my little boy so he turned on his heels and walked away.

I’ve also been getting some un nerving random text’s telling me I’m being watched and so are my son’s, which have then went on in an attempt to destroy both confidence and moral. I’m pretty good at giving back what I get and have been doing so – so if inspector gadget is out there and would like a full transcript and perhaps like to slap a G.P.S on the number for me it’s +447874111348 (I’d appreciate it and can only apologise for my use of language and my attempt to psyop what could be the British psyop team) if you get hold of a copy – thanks.

And that just about sum’s up the last couple of weeks apart from every dodgy bloke in town looking at me like I’m the harlot they know they couldn’t afford. It’s not a very flattering feeling but the irony turn’s my stomach even more, I’ve seen my drug dealing step brother visiting those places of ill repute when I was on a bus once, visiting his young heroin addicted girls no doubt taking the cash they just sold their souls for in return for a fix, all the while under my stepfathers protective connections. Perhaps they feel the need to spread malicious rumours about me in the hope I would be discredited if this tiny little town knew the truth? I’ve come to the conclusion it doesn’t matter what Grimsby thinks of me anymore, (Grimsby was targeted by the luft waffa in the second world war and stood together through worse shit, bedside’s in reality there is still bravery in this town and it’s still a place I want to belong , to spite not originating from here) I know the truth, half the world is cottoning on to what our fascist British regime is capable of and the world is getting smaller every day. I don’t have a gun nor bullet and knife proof vest to protect me but I still have the truth. We’ve been calling Iran for their undemocratic elections on the BBC and this entire country knows our own democracy is a farce and both police and politicians knows it’s run by the military industrial complex. The beeb’s psyop men have been calling Iran over the heavy handedness of their security services in their demonstrations yet it is illegal for us Brits to demonstrate at all unless we have the permission of the “police” force and the last time we had one of them it cost a man his life on camera. (the police force is at the mercy of MI5 & 6 – so are our democratically elected leaders – the “M.I.” stand’s for “Military Intelligence” – now there is one homework assignment 4 u kid!)

I will still blog from time to time, for my son’s and for all of those men that were led to believe they were putting their lives on the line to defeat an evil fascist tyrant in order to protect freedom of speech for future generations. They sacrificed their lives so we could be free. Don’t we owe them something?

I refuse blatantly at point blank range to give up my freedom of speech. I still believe the British military top brass had a hand in orchestrating 9/11 in order to invade Afghanistan and re establish the opium production with or without America’s help, I still believe as the step daughter of one of those British military top brass that he and his colleagues helped to orchestrate those events and nothing but nothing is going to stop me from saying it. I am a real living breathing human being and I have endured far too many coincidences in my life that I can prove to know there is only one conclusion left to reach. I’ve already explained this stuff on my blog and have longed for the day that the police, the courts or anyone else could categorically tell me beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am wrong – to date I still have what’s left of my freedom of speech for which I am grateful but no one, not even my stepfather himself who I know reads my blog and has complained to the police about it, has been able to vindicate themselves from my allegations or take me to court for slander.

I know I’ve been telling the truth – and so do they.

And off the subject. I don’t know which is worse, the hurt, the anger or the sheer frustration right now,

It was explained to me some years ago about the absolute necessity of our Government’s security services having to keep a very close eye on our rock star types. It was my youngest sons father Wolfe that explained the potential these people have to usurp our status quo. In truth some of these guy’s are loved by their adoring fans on a level that our politicians, military and bankers would never be able to achieve or comprehend in a million years. If, say someone had a sell out gig at Wembly stadium and decided to encourage 30,000 fans to march on Downing Street in a protest of whatever nature, let’s just say to stop the killing our government endorses and gets away with on a daily basis, well there would be trouble. If these stars were to take an opportunity while they were live on air to ask their fans to do some genuine research on let’s say our own governments underhanded dealings and told them where to dig well that could be pretty threatening to our Western Nazi regime. Nobody will ever know the circumstances for sure surrounding Michael Jackson’s death, we did however witness a five year old boy being taken to military boot camp in cartoon character at the very beginning of his musical career which was followed by both the genius and tragedy of a man that looked to me like he desperately wanted to be an ambassador for good in this world who was cruelly imprisoned in a cage surrounded by a mass media which the 9/11 truthers know is corrupt to the core and will destroy anything good that will get in their way by fair means our foul. If a societies artists are not free to express themselves as artists then that says everything about our society and the tragedy of Michael Jackson. He was coming to Britain soon and there is undoubtedly a global awakening as to what this countries elite has inflicted on the world, we even have a famous general by the same name. I can’t help but wonder whether that drive to be a force for good, to enlighten may have been the poor mans downfall? I am aware that this is my own speculation but there is only one more thing to add, where ever you are Mr Jackson may your soul be at peace, they can’t touch you now.

It wasn’t that long ago on live British TV that Bono said he faces a firing squad on a regular basis. Well given who my stepfather is and the life I have lived my understanding of the British firing squad has never been greater. I’d just like to ask them what kind of freedom and freedom of speech it was that they were led to believe their daddies died for?

R.I.P mother Liberty – you still have children that believe in you.

 

 

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