Do You Believe in Good Chinese Elders?

 By Anna Von Reitz

We are not talking about good Chinese Grandmas and Grandpas or even Great-Grandmas or Great-Grandpas.  I am talking about these magical, mythical beings who just sprang up out of nowhere in the past few years.  I can’t imagine where they have been hiding all these years?  A cave in Tibet?  
So, you believe that these ultra-altruistic and wise and beneficent Elders just showed up with half the world’s gold in their hands, ready to give it away —- after Mao Zedong played Whack-A-Mole on them and everyone else in China for 27 years?  And then Mao’s followers continued his example for another fifty years?  
And all the Chinese Triads just flunked the course and didn’t find all this gold?  
Mao Zedong and his Chinese Communist Party somehow missed these Chinese Elders and their vast storehouses of gold, too?  I just have to come back to that a second time.  
Billions and billions of Chinese people knew about these Elders but nobody said a word or wrote a thing about them from the beginning of last century until about five years ago?  Am I missing anything?  
Or is there a tradition of Chinese Elders hidden at the rainbow’s end behind a shimmering gold cloud of mist?  
If you believe in Beneficent Chinese Elders bearing trainloads of gold for the benefit of mankind, you have, in my opinion, stars in your eyes and rocks in your head.  
If these Elders were real and if they were beneficent, why’d they let their own people die by the tens of millions and starve until they turned to cannibalism under the early CCP?  
It’s far. more realistic, if less charming, to assume that someone wound up with a lot of gold that didn’t belong to them, and they are now trying to come up with a story to explain away where all this gold came from and how it happened to be in China.  
Like a pawn shop owner caught with a stolen diamond necklace, trying to ditch the hot goods by anonymously donating the necklace to charity.  
“Hey, Mac, nobody needs to know.  You do the donation for me, and it all looks good.” 
But wait, we know how all this gold came to be in China. We can track it on satellite.  We can use LIDAR and physical tomography.  The Vermin moved it there as part of their preparations to move their headquarters and main base of operations to China. That’s how all that gold got to China. 
We can sit in a darkened room and watch transport ship after transport ship moving gold from Point A to Point B (Hong Kong) or Point C (Shanghai) and nobody needs to wonder how the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank of Commerce  (HSBC) became such a world class wonder in such a brief span of years.  We can also note that all the ships using U.S.Navy ports and air stations and U.S. Navy vessels in Singapore and U.S. Navy vessels in Manila most likely were attached to the Pacific Fleet that is supposed to be working for us.  
Let’s all get a clue here, all this largess pouring into China in the years after Reagan wasn’t from Chinese factory workers investing their extra pocket change in the stock market.  And it wasn’t even from Chinese investment.  It was from wild, whole hog western investment, as the word was out and the fix was in.  
The elderly Chinese involved in this charade may indeed be good people; I would be the last one to say otherwise, in view of their apparent good intentions; but you know, I have seen good intentions fail so often, and that gives me a jaundiced view.   
Just look at the good intentions of the Roman Catholic Church?  And the good intentions of the United Nations?  And before that, the good intentions of the League of Nations?  And all that “foreign aid” that the U.S. Congress appropriated out of our pockets without a yes or no? 
Turns out that 98% of all that foreign aid never made it to its intended destinations, and what did arrive was WWII surplus  that the Defense Contractors got stuck with and that their buddies in Congress bought from them as a favor and just redefined this cronyism as “foreign aid” — like all those moldy green wool Army blankets we saw on the docks in Lagos, Nigeria.  Like the Army Green canteens still in daily use in Ethiopia and Morocco….. 
Turns out that as soon as the League of Nations got serious about outlawing slavery worldwide, their fate was sealed.  
Turns out that the United Nations and the Roman Catholic Church have both been used as storefronts by criminal commercial corporations.  
Turns out that when the Pope asks for a voluntary special offering to help pay for relief for refugees and people in need of medical care and assistance in war-torn areas of the world, he spends it on Disney movie productions, new bank digs in the Inner City of London, and luxury condominiums for those (very rich) immigrants, well, refugees of a sort — moving to China. 
Good intentions go astray in so many ways.  The programs and projects get funded, but remain on paper.  The programs and projects get funded — but only so long as they are politically correct.  The programs and projects get funded — but the contracts go to rats.  
This is the perennial problem and the only way to make sure that the decent living people of the world actually receive the benefit of anything is to give it to them directly —- not all at once, but in abundance, and not ever subject to the whims and greed of any political body or group of trustees, because that, more than anything, is how all this wealth and all these good intentions get siphoned and side-lined and never seem to hit the ground and make a difference in the lives of average people. 
The other thing that really is a benefit are infrastructure projects, but they need to be carried out by the actual national governments, not handed off to Municipal Corporation Subcontractors. 
Don’t believe these silly narratives about Good Chinese Elders funding the rebuilding of the world after the Second World War, either.  That never happened according to the bank deposit records. That gold came out of family trusts under the umbrella of The Avila Family Trust and national trusts — like ours.  
So, strike two for the Chinese Elders Narrative. 
It’s better to believe in the Tooth Fairy.  At least we know for sure that teeth exist. 
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Rope Climbing

 By Anna Von Reitz

Back during the Kennedy Administration there was a big push to promote physical fitness and even a program to distribute Presidential Awards to young people who met and exceeded certain fitness goals.  Virtually every school in the country had one of these fitness programs and tests that went with it, and so, you find me as an eighth grader perched tenuously on the knotted end of a large rope, staring up at the gym ceiling probably twenty feet above my head. 

It looked like twenty miles.  
With despair in my heart, I watched Terry Bonneville, one of our local gifted athletes, scamper up the rope like a Rhesus Monkey, so nimble and quick about it that I envisioned a grand career for her in the navy, the circus, or alpine rescue.  Then, with a flourish, she slid down the rope with an easy swoop to the end of the rope and hopped off the knot, landing straight as a pin. Just a tiny bit flushed.  
I was still staring up at the ceiling, trembling. But I gathered my courage and reached upward for the next handhold and slowly, maybe four inches at a time, clenched my teeth, bruised my feet, and clung on for dear life —-and true to form, like an inch-worm, grimly kept my focus on the ceiling.  
My classmates laughed themselves sick.  When I finally got to the ceiling, and despite Terry’s fine demonstration, I had no idea how to get down.  There ensued a frantic conversation with the gym teacher, and if possible, my even more agonizing descent back down the rope began. 
Now, instead of maybe four inches, I was making progress an inch at a time, and every time I let go, it felt like I must certainly go tumbling to the polished wood gym floor so infinitely far below.  
By this time a very large crowd had gathered.  
Not only my classmates but a really large audience from the school cafeteria, too.  I was sweating profusely, red-faced, and every time I inched down another click, my butt bulged out of my gym shorts as I tried to adjust to my new position on the rope. 
I stared hopelessly at my short skinny forearms.  If God had intended me to climb ropes… 
The laughter was no longer a dull roar.  The mere sound of all those people laughing at me was overwhelming by itself, but instead of trying to quiet the riot, the gym teacher was convulsed, too, clutching her ribs and her muffin-top belly like she’d never seen a scholar climb a rope before. 
I forgot momentarily or never knew that you technically didn’t have to climb the rope.  This was all voluntary, like Federal Income Taxes.  Technically, all you had to do was make a good-faith effort to jump on the knot.  
I hung there paralyzed between heaven and hell, clenched around that rope like a python.  Inch by inch by inch I made it down.  When my feet finally touched the big knot at the end of the rope, I just hung there gasping for a full thirty seconds, dimly thinking I might live after all,  too exhausted and disoriented to even drop the rest of the way to the floor, listening to the laughter still breaking out in guffaws and giggles.  
Finally, I launched off the knot  and landed with no grace at all on the tiny padded mat, still clinging to the rope with one hand to prevent a total collapse in front of my friends and detractors.  
The whole school, some 130 students and the Principal,  had gathered for The Unannounced Event. Plus the Guidance Counselor. Plus the gym teacher, still red-faced and with eyes wet from tears of laughter.  I was completely drenched, soaking wet, in sweat.  I could feel the back of my gym suit smacked flat to my skin, fore and aft. 
I didn’t even think about the fact that I had actually made it back to Earth again.  
I certainly didn’t expect what came next, when all those people who had been laughing so uproariously went silent, nor was I prepared when they started clapping.  I was so dazed I didn’t realize that I had suddenly merited all this adulation and looked back over my shoulder to see who they were clapping for.  Terry Bonneville wasn’t anywhere in sight.  I was confused. 
No amount of applause would ever convince me that this was a good experience, but in a way, it was.  It taught me a lot about myself, about the strength of my determination and ability to persevere, and also a lot about human nature.  People often laugh at you and then end up cheering.  Not that you do whatever it is for their applause. 
All over this country, people are rope climbing — not physically rope climbing, but intellectually and spiritually rope climbing as they come to grips with what has happened to their churches, schools, and government. 
I hear the Prophet Isaiah’s voice saying, “If you do not stand firm in your faith, you will not stand at all.”  (Isaiah 7: 9b)
The predatory courts still caught up in their endless quest to collect war reparations that are not owed by the people standing in front of them, still wrapped up in the delusions of a long-dead and illegal Mercenary War, imagining that we are Enemies and they are Victors, still continue to misaddress American civilians on a daily basis. 
The basics of the situation come down to this— your public employees have occupied your country.  They have no authority and no contract to do this.  When they misaddress you and entrap you into their courts, what do you do?  
1. You make sure that before you say anything that it is on the court record, by asking if it’s on the record, and you bring as many Witnesses with you as you can. 
2. You ask, “Where is the contract obligating me to obey you? Bring it forward, if it exists.”  They don’t have a contract with you, but they will probably cite some State of State Constitution or Statute, some County Code or other legislative doggerel.   
3. You ask, “Where is my signature on any of that?”  They may try to put a front on it and invite a conversation about Social Contracts.  You listen politely.  
4. You say, “I am not a member of the City or the District, and there is no evidence otherwise before this court. I do not wish to be impersonated or misaddressed by anyone.” 
In some cases they might bring car registrations or copies of other documents you did sign — in which case you mildly observe, “I was misinformed and coerced  to sign that under color of law and conditions of deceit and non-disclosure.” And then you clam up and give them nothing more to discuss.
There will be an eerie silence if you have a competent court.  If not, they will push their way onward, and try to sentence you or fine you or so whatever they were told to do according to their instructions.  But if they do that, you fall silent, too, waiting to appeal. 
I have done this many times and so have many others.  In all but one case we have never had to go to appeal court, and the one time that happened, it came back against the lower court with extreme prejudice. The cases vanish and sometimes the whole courts shut down and lock the courthouse doors.  Vanished overnight. 
The thieves flee the light. 
This is because they have no valid contracts; the two valid contracts they could have with the People of this country, The Constitution of the United States of America and The Constitution of the United States, they have evaded and dishonored.  
The sword of truth and the perseverance of the people prevails as inexorably as my slow progress coming back down that rope. It may be slow, it may be painful, but the safety of the solid ground awaits you, and a life lived in freedom, too. 
By ninth grade I could prove that the rope climb was voluntary.  I sat on the bleachers and smiled.  Even the good faith effort to jump on the knot was voluntary.  
Freedom from harassment.  Freedom from forced registrations.  Freedom from foreign taxation. Freedom from unsought citizenship obligations.  Freedom from racketeering. 
Freedom, sweet freedom that our forefathers fought for, not mere liberty. 
Yes, freedom and a country where every American sleeps snug in his bed and our schools teach science instead of political dogma, where our newspapers provide useful news, where our religious institutions no longer live in fear of the government, and our health and safety is not undermined by commercial corporations trying to sell us solutions to the problems they have created.
Well, there’s the knot, and there’s the rope.  We all have our Public Duty and our part to play. 

Go to: www.TheAmericanStatesAssembly.net.  Get started today
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Freed After 28 Years of Wrongful Conviction, Man Meets Pen Pal Who Wrote Him Weekly Affirming His Innocence

freed-after-28-years-of-wrongful-conviction,-man-meets-pen-pal-who-wrote-him-weekly-affirming-his-innocence
Courtesy of Ginny Schrappen

Lamar Johnson served 28 years for a murder he didn’t commit—when he was finally released after years of work by an advocacy group, there was one person he knew he wanted to see first.

It was a pen pal who wrote to him faithfully through nearly all the years of his imprisonment and came to all his court proceedings, pleading for his release on the strongly-held belief he was innocent.

Rewinding 20-some years back, one day a letter arrived in the hands of a congregant of Mary, Mother of the Church in St. Louis County named Ginny Schrappen. It was a letter addressed from the Jefferson City Correctional Center, to whomever at the church decided to open it.

Schrappen described herself as being “blown away” by Johnson’s elegant longhand script, and she decided to reply; with small details at first, but to say hello to a human who was obviously intelligent.

That reply spawned a more-than-two-decade snail mail relationship, with each letter revealing more and more about one to the other.

Johnson was convicted in 1994 of the first-degree murder of 25-year-old Marcus Boyd, one of his best friends. He had a simple alibi—he was at his girlfriend’s house that night, but the sole witness identified him as one of the shooters.

Several years later, the true culprits confessed to the crime, but this did not amount to an overturning of Johnson’s sentence. It took years of advocacy from the Innocence Project, a non-profit that investigates shut cases to try and get innocent people released from prison.

Innocence Project wasn’t alone in Johson’s advocacy—Schrappen always wrote letters to him ahead of his court appeal dates saying she would be there for him—all despite being a mother of three and eventual grandmother of two.

MORE PEN PAL STORIES: World’s Oldest Pen Pals Turn 100, After 84 Years of Transatlantic Letters–And Now They’re Meeting on Zoom

Despite several failed appeals, Schrappen never stopped coming, and over the years of letter writing their relationship became more important—she visited him occasionally in prison, which created a feeling of joy she described to the Washington Post as sending her “almost out of my skin.”

The Innocence Project eventually got Johnson freed after 28 years of time served, and a GoFundMe set up in the aftermath has raised nearly $600,000 at the time of publishing to give the man a new start.

He now enjoys spending regular face-to-face time on equal footing with his long-time friend Schrappen, but isn’t angry about the course of his life.

MORE STORIES LIKE THIS: New Evidence Unearthed by Podcasters Frees 2 Men Wrongfully Imprisoned for 25 Years

MORE STORIES LIKE THIS: Thousands Have Donated $1.6 Million to Innocent Man Freed From Prison After 43-Year Wrongful Conviction

“If you hold onto anger, you’re just going to swap one prison for another,” Johnson told the Post. “As much as there was a lot of setbacks over the years, there is a lot to be happy and grateful for.”

“Reach out to somebody that might need a friend,” Schrappen said. “It could mean more than you know.”

SHARE This Inspiring Story Of Connection With Someone Inside…

Sweden’s First EV-Charging Road Will Power Electric Vehicles as They Drive

sweden’s-first-ev-charging-road-will-power-electric-vehicles-as-they-drive
Provided by Electreon

The “E-20” highway stretch in Sweden will soon become the nation’s first functioning charging road to juice the batteries of heavy vehicles carrying freight around the nation.

E-20, (the E actually stands for Europe, rather than electric) runs between Hallsberg and Örebro in the middle of the country’s three major cities, Stockholm, Gothenburg, and Malmö.

Construction is slated to begin in 2025 along a whopping 21 kilometers of road (13 miles), but it hasn’t been decided which method of charging will be used. Previously-constructed charging roads in Europe have used methods that require outside equipment—overhead wires like a city tram line or undercarriage-mounted arms that attach to an electrified rail along the roadway.

These are highly impractical for regular motorists, who can neither reach the cables nor afford to mount a robotic arm on their car.

The last option, and the only sensible one for cars as well as trucks, is to build wireless charging infrastructure down the center of the lanes that send out an electromagnetic signal to a coil on the underside of the vehicle small enough to be fitted to a sedan or a tractor-trailer.

In any case, in order to conduct long-haul trucking in the larger European countries, there has to be sensible charging infrastructure to prevent the trucks from becoming overloaded with the battery packs necessary to drive long distances.

“If you are going to have only static charging full battery solution for heavy-duty vehicles, you will get vehicles with a huge amount of batteries that the vehicles need to carry,” said Jan Pettersson, Director of Strategic Development at Trafikverket, the Swedish transport administration.

MORE CHARGIN TECH: Not Science Fiction: Can We Charge EVs With Car-to-Car Mobile Recharging?

Euronews cited a recent study which found that 412 privately driven cars on parts of Swedish national and European roads could have their battery capacity reduced by more than 50% through a combination of access to electrified roads and  home charging.

Furthermore, only 25% of all roads would need to be electrified for the system to work.

GNN has closely followed charging road developments. In 2021, GNN reported that the Indiana Department of Transportation built a wireless charging road designed by the German firm Magment.

MORE FUTURE INFRASTRUCTURE: Switzerland’s Brilliant Plan For Underground Cargo Delivery Tunnels to Reduce Traffic is Now Underway

In Michigan a year later, Governor Gretchin Witmer announced a 1-mile stretch of road in Detroit would be electrifed—and she contracted the same company that built Sweden’s first wireless charging road pilot program on the Island city of Visby.

Germany, Israel, and Italy have all implemented similar projects.

SHARE Sweden’s Plans For The Future Of Roads On Social Media…

Oregon Senator Fights Bill That OKs Adult-Free Teen Medical Decisions, Baby Death Concealment

About HB 2002 Relating to health; declaring an emergency

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Joint Statement on HB 2002 A

 

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