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Editorial
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Title: Would 'God bless' a nation that's killed so many innocents?
Source: .
URL Source: http://.
Published: Oct 31, 2010
Author: .
Post Date: 2010-10-31 12:28:12 by Artisan
Keywords: None
Views: 344
Comments: 33

people are always offended at photos of aborted fetuses. i know that neither republicans nor democrats have any interest in ever outlawing abortion. would 'God bless' a nation that has killed minimum 50 million babies, not to mention 1 million iraqis? what kind of deranged kook would believe that? if anything, satan is reigning down his approval on 'Amurika'. This day of monsters & goblins fits right in with the soul of murika. halloween should be our national holiday.

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Begin Trace Mode for Comment # 4.

#2. To: Artisan, A K A Swine, A K A Ghoul, A K A Stone, A K A Old Fiend, A K A Mephistopheles, A K A Old Nick, A K A Beezlebub, A K A Prince of Darkness, A K A Lucifer, A K A Scion of Evil, Old Sadist, all (#0) (Edited)

Certainly the ghouls, goblins, demons, and fiends have had their way. And this is a day that Zionists both Jewish and Christian should take in hand to marvel at the wonders they have helped bring to be.

The best estimates I've read and heard place the number of murdered Iraqi innocents murdered at closer to 2 million and perhaps another 2 to 3 million in Afghanistan. Numbers so large, and blood in such quantity that most will not even look at the reality. The prospect of accepting responsibility for the scope of the foulness wrought and the misery which has followed is such as to drive the sane mind into screams of horror and anguish recoiling at sheer outrageous degradation of the evil conducted on such a scale. The number so foully murdered is equivalent to killing every man, woman, and child of a major city without exception for age, infirmity or innocence. The toll taken in ravaged lives, of torn and twisted bodies is a vision from such foul depths as to go without name. The weight of the tombstones is to be measured in hundreds of tons and not of mere pounds. This is a scale of loathsomeness and foulness to such extent as to beggar the mind. The sheer and terrible horror of the images real and evoked is of such kind as to leave a strong man weak in the recognition of the depths of evil plumbed.

The evil that has been wrought and the unconscionable amounts of innocent blood that has been spilled is not and cannot be at the will of the just and living God of which all great religions speak. Those who insanely argue otherwise are just that - insane - seeking the cloak of a false righteousness to claim succor for their writhing soul.

The sheer scope of the evil and the horror that has been wrought in the name of the United States is difficult to wrap your mind around. Comparisons to the depredations of Nazi Germany, and Stalin's Russia are no longer distant. The images which have come back are such as to make Dante's Inferno look like the mild imaginings of a schoolgirl at recess. The shattered buildings, shattered lives, and blood drenched landscape give testimony to a degree of evil which no good soul can look at honestly and remain unmoved. And yet the evil, the death, and the lingering hand of the butcher does not stop even there as the use of foul tortures has become the norm and no longer unacceptable in any form. The landscape littered with the dust of Depleted Uranium will continue to take a toll in shortened lives, cancers, and horrible birth defects for thousands of years to come.

For those who have encouraged and supported these horrors, so foul as to beggar my not inconsiderable command of language to describe, I cannot but have disgust. To the so-called "Chosen" who would arrogate unto themselves a superiority to their common brethren I have less than contempt. To the so-called "Christians" who defy every pronouncement of good and godly behavior to support these horrors I have such a loathing as to know no good name. That such would have the gall and shamelessness to claim the mantle of Christ as license for the evil they joyfully support there can be no language of fitting description to express the degradation and perversion that represents. The only consoling thought I can offer is that they are already in Hell. It is a hell to which they are worshipfully oblivious as they supplicate themselves before the altar of blood and fire, but Hell nonetheless. And it is a hell of their own creation, one for which they have with their own hands erected the monuments of burned and deformed children, of the wails for mercy when they would offer none. And the most ghastly thought of all is that wonder of wonders that they should think that after having created and willingly supported unbounded evil that by mouthing the right incantations and looking dolefully at their feet that their righteousness will be recognized and that they will be redeemed for the foulness they have spawned - to be lifted from the hideous outrages against all decency and God to a place of privilege and indolent ease. I am thankful for one thing in that reqard - that their delusions are for naught and that God does not reward evil with privilege and joy. Perhaps one day some of them may win true redemption, but in the meantime I wish for them only a joyless wandering in the outer dark for an eternity of eternities in which to contemplate and recognize that the evil they have supported in their false hosannas is in fact a dark evil without grace.

It was a time of great and exalting excitement. The country was up in arms, the war was on, in every breast burned the holy fire of patriotism; the drums were beating, the bands playing, the toy pistols popping, the bunched firecrackers hissing and spluttering; on every hand and far down the receding and fading spread of roofs and balconies a fluttering wilderness of flags flashed in the sun; daily the young volunteers marched down the wide avenue gay and fine in their new uniforms, the proud fathers and mothers and sisters and sweethearts cheering them with voices choked with happy emotion as they swung by; nightly the packed mass meetings listened, panting, to patriot oratory which stirred the deepest deeps of their hearts, and which they interrupted at briefest intervals with cyclones of applause, the tears running down their cheeks the while; in the churches the pastors preached devotion to flag and country, and invoked the God of Battles beseeching His aid in our good cause in outpourings of fervid eloquence which moved every listener. It was indeed a glad and gracious time, and the half dozen rash spirits that ventured to disapprove of the war and cast a doubt upon its righteousness straightway got such a stern and angry warning that for their personal safety's sake they quickly shrank out of sight and offended no more in that way.

Sunday morning came -- next day the battalions would leave for the front; the church was filled; the volunteers were there, their young faces alight with martial dreams -- visions of the stern advance, the gathering momentum, the rushing charge, the flashing sabers, the flight of the foe, the tumult, the enveloping smoke, the fierce pursuit, the surrender! Then home from the war, bronzed heroes, welcomed, adored, submerged in golden seas of glory! With the volunteers sat their dear ones, proud, happy, and envied by the neighbors and friends who had no sons and brothers to send forth to the field of honor, there to win for the flag, or, failing, die the noblest of noble deaths. The service proceeded; a war chapter from the Old Testament was read; the first prayer was said; it was followed by an organ burst that shook the building, and with one impulse the house rose, with glowing eyes and beating hearts, and poured out that tremendous invocation

*God the all-terrible! Thou who ordainest! Thunder thy clarion and lightning thy sword!*

Then came the "long" prayer. None could remember the like of it for passionate pleading and moving and beautiful language. The burden of its supplication was, that an ever-merciful and benignant Father of us all would watch over our noble young soldiers, and aid, comfort, and encourage them in their patriotic work; bless them, shield them in the day of battle and the hour of peril, bear them in His mighty hand, make them strong and confident, invincible in the bloody onset; help them to crush the foe, grant to them and to their flag and country imperishable honor and glory --

An aged stranger entered and moved with slow and noiseless step up the main aisle, his eyes fixed upon the minister, his long body clothed in a robe that reached to his feet, his head bare, his white hair descending in a frothy cataract to his shoulders, his seamy face unnaturally pale, pale even to ghastliness. With all eyes following him and wondering, he made his silent way; without pausing, he ascended to the preacher's side and stood there waiting. With shut lids the preacher, unconscious of his presence, continued with his moving prayer, and at last finished it with the words, uttered in fervent appeal, "Bless our arms, grant us the victory, O Lord our God, Father and Protector of our land and flag!"

The stranger touched his arm, motioned him to step aside -- which the startled minister did -- and took his pace. During some moments he surveyed the spellbound audience with solemn eyes, in which burned an uncanny light; then in a deep voice he said:

"I come from the Throne -- bearing a message from Almighty God!" The words smote the house with a shock; if the stranger perceived it he gave no attention. "He has heard the prayer of His servant your shepherd, and will grant it if such shall be your desire after I, His messenger, shall have explained to you its import -- that is to say, its full import. For it is like unto many of the prayers of men, in that it asks for more than he who utters it is aware of -- except he pause and think.

"God's servant and yours has prayed his prayer. Has he paused and taken thought? Is it one prayer? No, it is two -- one uttered, the other not. Both have reached the ear of Him Who heareth all supplications, the spoken and the unspoken. Ponder this -- keep it in mind. If you would beseech a blessing upon yourself, beware! lest without intent you invoke a curse upon a neighbor at the same time. If you pray for the blessing of rain upon your crop which needs it, by that act you are possibly praying for a curse upon some neighbor's crop which may not need rain and can be injured by it.

"You have heard your servant's prayer -- the uttered part of it. I am commissioned of God to put into words the other part of it -- that part which the pastor -- and also you in your hearts -- fervently prayed silently. And ignorantly and unthinkingly? God grant that it was so! You heard these words: 'Grant us the victory, O Lord our God!' That is sufficient. the *whole* of the uttered prayer is compact into those pregnant words. Elaborations were not necessary. When you have prayed for victory you have prayed for many unmentioned results which follow victory--*must* follow it, cannot help but follow it. Upon the listening spirit of God fell also the unspoken part of the prayer. He commandeth me to put it into words. Listen!

"O Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth to battle -- be Thou near them! With them -- in spirit -- we also go forth from the sweet peace of our beloved firesides to smite the foe. O Lord our God, help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out roofless with little children to wander unfriended the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun flames of summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring Thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it -- for our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their lives, protract their bitter pilgrimage, make heavy their steps, water their way with their tears, stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet! We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source of Love, and Who is the ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen.

(*After a pause.*) "Ye have prayed it; if ye still desire it, speak! The messenger of the Most High waits!"

It was believed afterward that the man was a lunatic, because there was no sense in what he said.

Original_Intent  posted on  2010-10-31   13:37:35 ET  Reply   Untrace   Trace   Private Reply  

So are you still breathing

So are you still breathing

No No Are you breathing

Are You Still Breathing

No

Wake Up Your Alive

Will You Listen To Me

I'm going to talk to you about some freaky shit now

Someone is going to die

A K A Stone  posted on  2010-10-31   13:59:12 ET  Reply   Untrace   Trace   Private Reply  

#5. To: A K A Swine, A K A Ghoul, A K A Stone, A K A Old Fiend, A K A Mephistopheles, A K A Old Nick, A K A Beezlebub, A K A Prince of Darkness, A K A Lucifer, A K A Scion of Evil, Old Sadist, all (#4) (Edited)

So, oh evil one, you can reach only to deep fathoms of your corrupt and debased being and bring forth naught but more evil crafted by the hands of another fellow pervert.

So be it. Your Master, I am sure, approves from his dark lair.

You may, as you wish and will, reach into the perverted depths of debasement and bring forth the stench, but that will not salve your rotted soul.

As you writhe in the discomfort of the foulness in which you dwell remember that there is such a thing as light, as love, and mercy. And know that as long as you choose to worship evil that your own foulness and degradation will be your reward.

Original_Intent  posted on  2010-10-31 14:11:00 ET  Reply   Untrace   Trace   Private Reply  

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