Noted author Eustace Mullins dies!
Legendary author of scores of books and pamphlets demolishing the lies of war making mainstream media, historian Eustace Mullins died on Tuesday, February 2, 2010, at the home of his caretaker in a small town in Texas.
"He was absolutely BRILLIANT in his research, writing and verbal presentations, and as honest a man and scholar as our country has ever produced. In all the interviews I had the great honor of doing with Eustace, he never ceased to amaze me... and to teach all of us critically important truths about our world and the evil, satanic group that is and has been dominating it for far too long. His knowledge and wisdom about the controllers was simply astonishing,” said Jeff Rense.
Mullins, who would have been 87 in March, suffered a stroke three weeks ago in Columbus, Ohio. He had been on an extended tour of his admirers for much of the past year, visiting and chatting with many of his thousands of fans who jumped at the chance to buy his books from him in person.
The author of such incendiary books as Secrets of the Federal Reserve, Murder by Injection and The Curse of Canaan, Mullins was harassed by the FBI for almost a half century, and had one of his books burned in Germany in the 1950s. These stories are recounted in his book A Writ for Martyrs.
A protégé of the imprisoned patriotic poet Ezra Pound, Mullins compiled a well-researched raft of works that detailed the passage down through time of a hereditary group of banker-killers who have essentially ruled the world from behind the scenes since ancient times.
Eustace Mullins was one of the greatest political historians of the 20th century, and not just because he was not beholden to the power structure that deters candid reports about significant events, but because, guided by the greatest poet of the 20th century, who was imprisoned for broadcasting for peace, his meticulous research eventually uncovered virtually every significant political secret of the last 400 years.
It is a pity that so many people are too afraid to believe what Mullins told them, because it was much more of the truth than has ever been seen in our public schools or mainstream media.
Funeral arrangements and appropriate memorial information have yet to be released.
"He was absolutely BRILLIANT in his research, writing and verbal presentations, and as honest a man and scholar as our country has ever produced. In all the interviews I had the great honor of doing with Eustace, he never ceased to amaze me... and to teach all of us critically important truths about our world and the evil, satanic group that is and has been dominating it for far too long. His knowledge and wisdom about the controllers was simply astonishing,” said Jeff Rense.
Mullins, who would have been 87 in March, suffered a stroke three weeks ago in Columbus, Ohio. He had been on an extended tour of his admirers for much of the past year, visiting and chatting with many of his thousands of fans who jumped at the chance to buy his books from him in person.
The author of such incendiary books as Secrets of the Federal Reserve, Murder by Injection and The Curse of Canaan, Mullins was harassed by the FBI for almost a half century, and had one of his books burned in Germany in the 1950s. These stories are recounted in his book A Writ for Martyrs.
A protégé of the imprisoned patriotic poet Ezra Pound, Mullins compiled a well-researched raft of works that detailed the passage down through time of a hereditary group of banker-killers who have essentially ruled the world from behind the scenes since ancient times.
Eustace Mullins was one of the greatest political historians of the 20th century, and not just because he was not beholden to the power structure that deters candid reports about significant events, but because, guided by the greatest poet of the 20th century, who was imprisoned for broadcasting for peace, his meticulous research eventually uncovered virtually every significant political secret of the last 400 years.
It is a pity that so many people are too afraid to believe what Mullins told them, because it was much more of the truth than has ever been seen in our public schools or mainstream media.
Funeral arrangements and appropriate memorial information have yet to be released.
Freedom Fighter and Publisher Don Harkins dies: A Real American Idol
September 20, 2009 - 13 years ago I had a heart attack and died, but God noticed and sent me back after 4 blissful minutes with the vision of where Don Harkins got to go at 4:44 AM this morning. For our comfort 444 is the symbol Archangel Michael displays when present. I know he was there to guide Don.
I knew Don for several years before I first met him in the presence of Ingri when he was with her at an American Media Association organizational meeting in Phoenix. He had such a Joy in his heart and the brightest love-light in his eye that I had ever witnessed, rendering him powerless to contribute to the agenda of the meeting. However, the powerful presence of Love in the room enlightened the others present to accomplish major forward advances of that agenda. I know that the same love light in him will forever shine on those of us left in the room.
In man’s limited perspective of physical life, the 46 years that Don was with us physically seems short, however in God’s measure of accomplishment and Love, Don achieved the age of 210 and grew to be 10 feet tall. He earned his blissful reward.
To honor Don’s legacy we must all continue his brave work of exposing the diaper-clad purveyors of darkness to the Light known so well to him.
I Love You Don and will strive to continue your noble work until the time finally arrives when I can once again laugh and share a heavenly cocktail in your presence.
Dennis Grover, American
Ed. Note: Don Harkins was the editor-in-chief for The Idaho Observer newspaper. He dedicated his life exposing the myriad lies propounded by government politicians and international bankers, and providing sound and accurate information for all freedom-lovers everywhere. He will be sorely missed.
Former San Francisco 49ers coach Bill Walsh has died
July 30, 2007 - Bill Walsh, the groundbreaking football coach who won three Super Bowls and perfected the ingenious schemes that became known as the West Coast offense during a Hall of Fame career with the San Francisco 49ers, has died. He was 75.
Walsh died early Monday following a long battle with leukemia, according to Stanford University, where he served as coach and athletic director.
Eulogy for an Angel
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We are here to say goodbye to a miracle child.
But how do you say goodbye to an angel?
How do you adequately thank a precious being for the countless gifts she has freely given, or for the many ways in which her presence has added to your life?
I find myself lost in a slew of thoughts, about an innocence and purity of spirit that this angelic creature carried with her throughout her oh-too-short life; about her regal yet sensitive character; about her generosity and acceptance, even to those she did not like; about her strength and fortitude, especially during these last days, when she continued to display amazing determination to remain with us as long as she could.
Time and time again, this precious spirit showed me the meaning of true, unconditional love. I can honestly say that I have never met a more intelligent being - of any species - than my little girl, my little angel.
There are many people who would think me odd for expressing these sentiments about my cat, Calle (pronounced Cal-ee). But she was more of a quality being than most humans I have known, and I far preferred her company to that of the disingenuous, dishonest and disrespectful people who inhabit this world.
She always found a way to clearly communicate with me, it was amazing... really. She would “think” at me or “talk” to me and I would understand precisely what she was trying to say. It was both uncanny and delightful. She taught me about “drippies” - drinking from sink or bathtub faucets - and later on, about the proper temperature of the water for her. We would take her with us when we traveled to conduct a seminar, or sometimes just for a weekend away from home - Calle, her mama and me. She would always let us know whether or not she approved of the hotel room.
Calle was originally more of Lee’s cat. She had bonded to Lee and I had bonded with Yoda, a black cat we got at the same time we got Calle. When he was 10 months old, Yoda was hit by a car and killed. Calle was despondent. She adored Yoda, even though they were not from the same litter. She climbed onto the roof of our house (something she had never before done) and howled and wailed. She never cried like that, before or since. She was heartbroken to have lost her little friend.
I, too, was heartbroken at the loss of Yoda. Calle and I comforted each other, and in the comforting, we developed a bond that would last for 13 years, and perhaps beyond. We became so close that we could detect each other’s thoughts and feelings… no kidding!
Calle used to take me out for walks. She would walk me to one end of the property, then turn around and walk me back, always looking back to see that I was keeping up with her along the way.
I remember a time when we had adopted a female longhaired cat named Princess. Calle despised Princess. One evening, I called Calle to come in but she wouldn’t. Instead - and this was decidedly odd - she sat outside in the yard, stiff and in one set position. When I realized she was trying to tell me something, I went out to her and looked where she was looking. I saw Princess stuck in a tree. Princess was the color of tree bark, so she was effectively invisible. I never would have found her if Calle hadn’t waited outside that evening, pointing up at the tree. Calle did this, even though she did not like Princess. That is what an angel does. That was my little girl.
Calle made an impression on so many people. The veterinary hospital staff bought her flowers; Shane, though he has only been with us a short while, was so touched by Calle that he built a beautiful coffin for her; Tom embraced Calle as part of his family, too, and I could see his grief at her loss. Lee is Calle’s mama; Calle loved you so much, Lee, there is no question about that.
Calle brought out the very best in me; she brought out the best in those whom she touched, and there were many.
Michael Curtis, a friend I have known for several years who now lives on the West Coast, was deeply affected by the news of her loss. He sent his condolences and sorrow. How many people do you know who have been so affected by briefly knowing a cat that they remember her when she is gone? That was the effect Calle had on people.
Other animals, too. Somehow, all of the cats and dogs knew to respect Calle. She was the queen; she held herself like royalty and animals and humans alike recognized her majesty.
I do not know what my life will be like without Calle. Right now, everything seems so empty and without purpose. I suppose that is somewhat normal, but I cannot help but wonder… what do I do now?
Calle is now in a spiritual meadow, eating blades of grass and clicking at birdies, like she loved to do. She is with Yoda and Thunder, the black cat we got to help her get over Yoda. She bonded with him, too. I can only wish for you, Calle, sunny days, fresh grass, lots of birdies and mousies, and always good hunting.
Thank you for bringing us such immense joy and love, my sweet little girl. Thank you for blessing us with your presence these 13 ½ years. Thank you for being our teacher, our best friend, our little angel.
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