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Tuesday, October 7, 2014

THE DREAM – 10-04-2014:

This dream came to me on the morning of Saturday October 4, 2014.

There are political elements inside of this dream, but I am explaining the dream to you as it happened. This is not any kind of endorsement for any political party, or politicians of any ilk. As you should know by now, if I wanted to do some politicking it would be out front and in your face. However, you should also know that I have renounced all politics -- and I have particularly declared my revulsion of the idiotic practice of Voting.

*************************

There I was, dreaming along.

My dream streams are something to see, and usually much better than the movies that are being produced these days. For one reason, I do not watch movies or films. I grew out of that decades ago. Nowadays, I observe -- and either appreciate or depreciate.

I know so much about film-making and techniques, and I have such a huge collection of examples and characters and evaluations in my mind, that any film or movie that comes my way is merely a specimen for examination. I have an entire table in my house for microscopes. I examine all sorts of creatures that thrive and flourish in my amazon backyard. I treat movies and films from the 'outside' the same way.

Movies and documentary films from the 'inside', are another matter entirely. I use such 'videos' as material for my stories and books and messages. When I dream, however, they run in a controlled amok. They operate on their own independence, within the forces of what is 'excellence'. It is not like any process operating within written guidelines. It is more like a very complex collection of ideas flowing along and being influenced by pre-existing forces of Truth. Truth about what is Good and what is Evil. What is likely to be possible, and what is not. What could really happen, and what could not. Forces, affecting forces.

*************************

In this dream stream, I was looking through the stream to the other side; where there was a very attractive black vixen wearing next to nothing, in pink nothings, and swishing her hips and ample breasts about for some sultry reason. I was about to swim over there and latch onto her, when this dream started instead.

A series of large and modern buildings appeared before me, set down into a very large office complex. The grounds were very green with large grass lawns and replete with flower gardens; which is what a lot of such places do when the buildings themselves are not very attractive. The complex was miles by miles in size, and I could not see the borders of it. The buildings that I did see, were of that modern blockhouse type; that are none too long on architecture, and are rather designed for maximum usage and inside spacing; while being somewhat fashionable on the outside with mirrored windows. All of the windows of these buildings were mirrored towards the outside world. To look at them was to look elsewhere. The windows of the buildings were tinted with a faint dark blue, and the steel support structures were all black with shining chrome trim everywhere. Each building had a protruding foyer at its entrance, with a very large parking canopy of similar steel and chrome.

There was a line of those buildings, I am not sure how many, and they were all very large and tall. They were twice as high as they were wide, and they seemed to be about eight hundred feet wide.

If there were more lines of these buildings I did not see them, my attention was focused on the fact that the first of those buildings (as seen from above by myself) was filled with Humans. It was a Human building. I was flying above the building and off to one side, so I had about a forty-five degree approach to it. I knew what was going on in that building, even though I was not down there.

There was a ceremony going on at the ground level, and it was a wedding, but there was also a disruption. Somehow, HObama the Pervert was coming to the building. Every Human there, was aghast at that news. HObama, and ten long limousines with QueerSwats were coming to the building!

The Humans had to perform the Human Marriage as fast as they could, because the building had to be evacuated before HObama and the QueerSwats arrived! I could see the bride in white and yellow, and the groom dressed in a black tux; and all of the relatives and friends dressed in many brightly colored costumes. Of course, the place was bedecked with flowers everywhere, and balloons and children dressed up in their best clothes.

Time flashed forwards for me, probably fifteen minutes, and now the building was being emptied of all occupants -- before HObama and the QueerSwats arrived. I flew in great circles around the building watching all of the evacuation. Eventually, I was satisfied that all of the Humans were gone.

The scene fell silent, completely. It was about late morning, and a brief shower passed through the scene, leaving a mist behind it that muffled the sounds of the area. Then, without headlights on, HObama and the Queerswats arrived in a long single file; and surrounded the building with long black limousines. Somehow, I knew that the Humans were safe and away.

HObama unfolded from a limousine like a long-legged praying mantis, from a pod of devil spawned seeds; and walked slowly to the entrance beneath the front canopy. There, it stopped for a moment and looked inside. Then, it opened the front door and turned to look back at the limousines. After a gesture from IT, there issued from the limousines a torrent of Imps and Demons from Hell. Skipping and hopping and walking on their hands, they flowed from the limousines by the hundreds and occupied the building.

Once inside, they ransacked the place. As they tore apart the offices and desecrated the site of the Human Marriage, they all turned into government sucks and pimps and primps, dressed in suits.

At this point, I sailed off and away to the sixth building. The first building, now reeked of sinister death and radiated evil. The first building, now writhed and vibrated with Queerism, and hate for Humans, and slaughter-level death. Then, I decided to go into the first building and see what they were doing in there.

A leather belt appeared above the buildings, fifty feet wide and very long. It ran in a line along the tops of the buildings and was attached to the buildings by larger leather bands -- all of the leather was very thick and polished and brown.

I realized that it was a walkway for me to use to reach the first building on; but as I walked on it, it bowed and dipped from my weight. When I got within two buildings of the first one, I decided to fly instead; because the movements of the leather beltway could reveal my approach to the Queerswats there, giving away my presence.

I flew up and away, and then back to the first building. I flew into the building through the walls. Inside, the building was being converted into a government facility; and many drones in suits were bringing in office equipment; while others were throwing out Human equipment. I hovered up and down the stairways, and followed groups of government sucks going up and down those stairways. I listened to them talking in gov-speak chirps, about how the missing Humans will be found and punished for the Terrorist Wedding -- and how the Masters will love this new building. They giggled about how an orgy pad would soon be installed in the front foyer; and how they couldn't wait for Inauguration Day, and the first orgy to dedicate the building with.

Some of the office rooms on different floors were on fire, and government sucks were dancing around burning file cabinets; turning into Imps and Demons as they danced, and then turning back into grey suited government sucks.

I rose out of all of that, far above the building and looked about for any signs of Humans; but they were all well gone and over the horizons. I did not feel any emotions about the tragedy and destruction that was happening. HO, and its Imps and Demons are all slated for residency in Hell anyway. It is the upchuck of Hell onto our living planet that is bothersome. But, in this case I was a detached observer.

[[And yes, I do think about such things (in such ways) in my dreams. And, I do agree with the ways that I think about such things in my dreams.]]

HObama walked out of the smoldering building with a very pleased smile, and left with the ten limousines to attack another building; even though it was no longer the Resident at the White Outhouse.

I watched the limousines leave, and I flew through the building again, several times to see the government sucks licking the walls; and sucking each other in the elevators, and smearing their fresh dung along the corridor walls (Boston-style with Boston Squeals) to make the place homey.

Then, I flew above the building again, and I suddenly saw (waiting for me on top of the leather beltway) the same black beauty that I had seen before. She was dressed in a Santa's Elf costume (very skimpy) and she was sitting on the driver's bench of Santa's Sleigh, beckoning me to join her. She had the reigns in one hand and beckoned with the other; with an alluring smile on her gorgeous face.

In front of the sleigh (which was pointed along the length of the beltway, away from the building) were harnessed ten big bunny rabbits, each about two tons in weight; either pink, yellow or white. They all had their heads turned about to look at me, with their long ears listening.

I was stepping up into the sleigh to be with that really beautiful temptation, when I saw in the back of the sleigh (resting on its side) a massive dictionary from the nineteenth century. It was six feet long, three feet wide and two feet thick; and bound in brown leather with gold letters and gold decorations, and its pages were gold-edged. It was for me.

I had about enough time to look at it, and then look at her -- with appreciation in many ways -- when the ears of the ten bunny rabbits turned away from us. They turned like ten radars on the same beam, away to the left; and then the ten bunny heads followed. Except for the delightful young black woman at my side, we all looked away to the left and upwards towards a sound.

A burning jumbo jet airliner was coming towards us. It looked like one of those heavy European bus liners that are larger than the Boeing 747's.

Immediately, I was hit by a spacial realization of where we were. There were ten very large, and fuzzy, and colorful bunny rabbits (that could snap off one of my legs with a single bite) in harnesses and sitting two abreast on top of a much larger brown leather belt. The beltway, stretched from the top of this building across a far expanse of distance (too far to be seen); and was attached to the rest of the buildings in this line by huge leather bands.

They, and Santa's Sleigh, were pointed away from the building that we were on top of; and about to depart from. The sleigh was a little oversized, but then again it had to be so, in order to carry the dictionary that I must have ordered. The knock-out black babe (in the perfect 'next to nothing' outfit) was still looking at me and winking.

Below us, was a building full of DemoCraps/Queers/RepuCraps that were celebrating the sack of a Human Building; and were turning from government sucks, into faggots, into monstrous aberrations, and back into government sucks every five minutes.

I was about to sit down next to 'Miss Black Lovely of 2014'; when in the skies to our left (which seemed to be very large and wide and darker for some reason, and yet was more highlighted as though someone was using the video controls on us) a very rare sight was seen heading towards us -- a very large jetliner with both wings on fire and trailing a long column of bright white and yellow smoke -- but consumed in something else.

All over the burning jetliner, and all around it as it flew on fire, there billowed great vents of steam; creating the effect of a meteor falling through a hurricane.

I took all of this in, in about two seconds, and realized that the burning aircraft was going to impact beyond us; by flying over us. By now it looked for all the world like a burning meteor of ice, shaped like an aircraft. The explosions and intense fires that consumed it were causing great out-rushes of vapor from its body. Like a bullet made of intense steam, it sailed over our heads -- half fire, half ice and steam. Clearly, there was an aircraft inside of it all and burning. From it, there emanated an uncanny sound like that of a great falling object, and a steam geyser passing us quickly and causing a doppler feedback effect to our ears. I thought I heard a chorus of screams.

"That is the first one I have seen."

I turned to my right, to find one of my truck driver friends standing next to me in a Disaster and Rescue uniform; dark blue with bright fluorescent orange trim. His dark blue cap was of a World War II model, Germanic Fire Brigade type; and the top and back of it was bright white. Built into it, was a short and heavy cape that came down to his shoulders, also white. On the front of the cap was the symbol of the DR teams.

He pushed me about and pointed up into the skies in a different direction, more to the left. I turned, realizing that I was also dressed in a classic DR uniform, and looked out across a vast landscape of high plains, scattered evergreen forests, abundant wheat fields, golden grasslands, and rugged butte-like mountains of many shades of tan and brown and granite -- set off from us by a dozen miles. I could not see what he meant.

"No, more over!" he shouted. And then, I saw it. From further left was descending a tremendous aircraft of orange colors. I took in quickly that it was of a different origin and design; however it was coming down in a long descending curve, like another meteor fire-balling through a hurricane. But, there was no hurricane.

The airships were causing the steam effect themselves, somehow. This one too, looked like a projectile of vapor and intense fire arching down to the Earth. Both air ships had the distinct and objective appearance of something unearthly just arriving at the planet. I looked at them like we observe comets and asteroids arriving for the first time; very high up, very unexpected, very awesome.

From it came different sounds, like engines revving and cables straining and wheels grinding at high speeds and metals breaking. It was the foreboding noise of an aircraft descending towards a crash. Its trajectory was almost the opposite of the former aircraft's.

We both winced and instinctively ducked, when an explosion blew out across the plains with a blast wave. We turned and saw the town about five miles away, a massive fireball mushroom rising from its far side. The skies on that horizon flashed with huge lighting effects, as though an Aurora Borealis had impacted upon the earth. The blue of the sky there, became replaced with outward flying curtains of dense colors like purple and red, and a bright and thickly veined yellow. The effect was so intense, that it cast shadows on everything between it and us. Down on the surface between the town and ourselves, walking in the tall grasses up to their knees, there approached the figures of the rest of our DR team, ten more in all. As I watched them tromping through the greens and golds, they all struck me as being of similar body types and legions of Humanity. They were all ruggedly built, with square shoulders and tough faces (all different), and their looks were resolute and determined. They looked for all the world like veteran French Foreign Legionnaires, except I knew they were my own legionnaires.

"Forget the town!" someone called.

"We are assigned to the grasslands and the park!" called another.

The explosions behind them were so bright that their faces were in darkness beneath their white capes and blue caps; until they were so close I could shake their hands, which I did of course. The first aircraft I had seen, impacted the plains to the south of us (which by now I was sure was Central Wyoming) with a belly flop and a long skidding into a small butte. The resulting explosion took off several acres of the butte, and looked as though the Earth had belched fire and brimstone there.

We looked at it calmly, and then I said -- "Where is Murphy?"

"Off fighting his own war again, Captain." was the reply.

"Forget him then. I will court-martial his ass after this is over!" I replied. Then I looked back at the mushroom cloud of flames and billowing fires that the town was under. The storm of death there was creating its own lighting bolts, huge ones, and the flashing light shimmered and scorched the eyes and obscured the body of the town that was trapped underneath it.

It was not because of the sight that I looked in that direction, but because of a sound. I looked up into the mushroom cloud of bright gases and pointed. There, emerged yet another giant aircraft -- sizzling and billowing vapors and its own flames; and searing its way through the inferno until it was quite separated from it, and flying in a fiery and straight arch towards the great plains that were now behind us -- towards the mountains.

This aircraft was gyrating, shaking its wings like it was convinced that enough flapping of its bodily appendages would put out the holocaust that was consuming it. No such luck. It screamed of hot gaseous explosions, and emitted a long doppler effect like a fast train running on some ghost track over our heads.

"It's for the fields, Captain!" one sergeant said brusquely; and we all set off at a run through the tall grasses, towards the mountains; with this latest airliner spitting and sizzling and shrilling slowly towards Earth, just above us. It was right above us, but cast no shadow. A rain of fire droplets fell about us onto the grasslands as we ran.

Again, the scene seemed to be darker than usual, and yet the important features were lit up and highlighted for emphasis. I know such lights. We were in an atmosphere that should have been excellent for photography. Instead we were running for lives.

Out before us, several miles distant, the plains lost their darkness and from there to the mountains everything was brightly lit by star lux; putting the mountain range in stark contrast to what we were running inside of.

The aircraft smashed into the plains at a bad angle, and I know we all felt worse as we ran. No one could have survived that. We kept running. The plains roamed beneath our feet quickly, and we kept running over vast stretches of wheat, down and up ravines, leaping over streams, until we were into patches of scrub pines with the mountains still in the distance.

I called everyone to a halt, and we looked back at our track. The town was now much further away, and a black cloud of smoke had fallen upon it; with bright red flaming incendiaries descending upon it from the mushroom cloud above it. In silhouette to that light was the fallen jetliner on the plains, plowed into the earth at a sixty degree angle.

"Another! Another!" someone shouted. We all stepped back towards the town and looked high above to see another aircraft of massive size flying in a steam shroud filled with flames; inside of which could be made out the body of the aircraft. Above the mushroom cloud it came, but descended fast towards our location.

"Run! Run!" I shouted and pointed due north. "We must get out of these groves!" and we set off towards the open plains again.

This aircraft flew as though guided by a still living pair of hands, and pulled up sharply at several hundred feet of height. It was trying to make a belly landing on the wheat fields, even though the body of the ship could barely be seen amongst the conflagration of destruction that was consuming its structure. We broke out of the trees in time to see it flash past us a mile away -- sounding like a steam locomotive on its last ride to its final destiny. It flew due east for a long ways, leaving a wide wake of smoke and flames behind it, and then hit the spire of a low lying mesa. The mesa only had one spire, like a sandstone rhino's horn, coming up on its western edge. This, the aircraft hit head on. The spire erupted into billowing gases and a great explosion of dirt and dust -- and then fell off the butte onto the plains, taking the aircraft with it.

I had watched, standing in the grasses and the wind, for what seemed a long time. Just watching the end. I could see myself standing there for the long pause; and then I shouted "It's another 9-1-1!"

I turned away from the butte towards the town to see another DR team approaching on a run. When they got close enough they shouted "All dead!" -- which meant the jetliner on the plains of course.

"It's another 9-1-1!" I shouted. And then, I turned and pointed to the east; where I knew the State Park was located inside the foothills of the mountains. "There!" I shouted. "The park!"

They all waved for us to go ahead as they ran towards us, and as a team we turned and began to run through the brush country towards the foothills.

"Another!" I heard a weak voice shout from the grasses far behind us!

We all stopped very fast and turned very fast, and then turned more. Hidden from our sight, another large aircraft had been approaching, skimming along above the scrub pines so closely that it was setting down a trail of scorched forests in its path. Tall gushers of steam and bright blue flames erupted from the tops of its long body, which was not on fire. Its wings and tail were very much in flames however, and it kept screaming with its engines as though it was trying to take off from a runway.

We saw it long enough to get the details, and then the pines hid it from our sight again; but not from our ears. We continued running towards the east and the foothills, with the sounds of the burning aircraft outpacing us. For a long time it seemed to snap and shriek and fade further from our ears, until it impacted into the foothills.

Now, we were at the beginning of the foothills. Private cabins of citizens were situated here and there, some on fire. These we checked, saving those that we could. The hills were on fire. The numbers of those needing help began to mount, and I stood aside suddenly and pointed at eight different men, probably from several teams, and said "You, you, you, you ... follow me to the State Park." and we set off on a run further up into the forests of the foothills.

As we ran, we found ourselves going up a narrow valley with a ridge along the southern side. Up on top of the ridge, also at a trot, we saw a disaster team in blue uniforms and silver hardhats and shovels running at a brisk pace towards the State Park, backed by rising clouds of fire storms.

I waved hurriedly at their leader as we ran. He broke away from the running and stood several feet below the ridge line -- "Never expected to see another DR team here!" he shouted.

I waved towards the State Park rather than to shout back, and he got the message. Both teams reached the State Park beneath the crowning forest tops, to find most of it smashed out of recognition and on fire. Everywhere the buildings were burning; the grasses had not ignited yet, but the canopy of the trees was aflame with a vast crown of white fire. A steady downpour of burning branches and pieces fell everywhere. Bodies of vacationers and tourists were scattered and splattered all about the grounds, hundreds of them. Recreation vehicles burnt like propane torches in diverse places, some thrown into buildings.

he leader of the other team walked through a hedge of bushes on fire and introduced himself -- "Leftenant ..." an explosion above us in the trees cut off his name. He was blond under the cap, tall, white, athletic, in shape, probably a football coach for the high school when not out here. He pointed further into the flames and said -- "It must have hit in there somewhere."

"Glad to meet you, Leftenant." I said, shaking hands quickly and thinking to myself -- 'I have to bring this one back alive. Half of the women of Wyoming would miss him, if I didn't. And, I'd get blamed for it by some babe for sure!'

He turned to look into the fires, where the airliner had smashed the forest into kindling. I looked up above us, at the roiling fire blanket of the burning canopy. The air was shifting. All of that upwelling was piling up, up there. It had to come back down, and with a vengeance. I knew what I was about to say. It was about the downdraft inferno that was soon to happen; and how we had to evacuate the living as fast as possible -- leaving the dead behind.

But, I woke up.

*************************

Markel Peters


Thursday, October 2, 2014

These Are The Rape Years Of Iowa -- Boycott Des Moines!!!!

The following is not for the 'Meek' that will lose the Earth and inherit Hell, for their cowardice and complete lack of fortitude and awareness.

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I am reminded of the huge BUWI He/She/It driver, with the fluorescent t-shirt with a ButtUgly Windmill on it; and a nasty threat to all Iowans printed next to the ButtUgly Windmill.

I had just stopped for fuel at a truckstop in Clinton, and I found that there was a BUWI driver there (with a load of death for Iowa) shouting threats against all Iowans. It strutted about the parking lot and inside the truck stop, farting and wagging its fat and white homo-fascist ass. It was threatening to bury Iowa under ButtUgly Windmills, for not wanting to be queer!

The eight fists and eight forearms of the four sex helpers (that were with Her/Him/It) all applauded and giggled and laughed, with short and clipped snapping sounds. When not all together in the cabin of the truck, with the 'thing' -- doing very pornographic filth -- those scum were driving the 'pilot cars' for the oversized truck that was carrying the fatal parts. Driven, by a (just smart enough to hold a steering wheel) 350 pound fat fuck from the East.

The entire queer assemblage, was bringing more instruments of genocide into Iowa for the BUWI Bastards and Bitches; and had stopped at the truck stop in Clinton with their cargo of death. As it was the first truckstop inside of Iowa, on their route, they took that opportunity to shout threats and make terrorist comments. Those BUWI Queers were openly 'Queer', and announcing their intentions of destroying Iowa. And then, they gave it all away. The It/He/She (shaking its torso with pseudo-feminine anger) said that there would be no place left for “peters to take pictures” without ButtUgly Windmills being in the way.

Logistically, that means that the entire state is to be blanketed with ButtUgly Windmills.

Blanketed.

Covered.

Smothered.

Destroyed.

From the mouths of PornoBUWIs (queer to the max) comes the Ultimate Truth of the BUWI intentions.

That, was a very instructive and revealing experience. Minus the pornography of course.

[[What did they do? In the parking lot after I left?]]

That, is the Truth which all Iowans are forbidden to know about the BUWI intentions. That, is the Truth behind the BUWI Propaganda. That, is what is really happening with every piece of BUWI trash that they exhibit at political rallies and conferences.

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As the title indicates -- this message is about the Culture of Alienation and State Death that exists in, and controls, Des Moines.

The Des Moines sewer culture of wise-ass, know-it-all, greedy-for-lifestyle, elitists is what has brought these rape years upon Iowa. The people of Des Moines, have failed utterly to keep such self-grooming hogs in check. The only logical choice therefore, is to boycott the entire lot of anti-nature aliens -- as they have proven themselves to be.

Henceforth -- I shall Boycott all relationships and dealings with Des Moines. Known, from now on, by the moniker of its anti-nature -- 'Des Aliens'.

Any neighborhood that demonstrates that it shares our pain, and the disruption and misery of Nature caused by the ButtUgly Windmills -- by installing fifty (50) full-sized ButtUgly Windmills on their properties (over their houses) will have the boycott lifted from their community. Whereupon, I will gladly frequent their community whenever I am in that area. Otherwise, I will only travel through Des Aliens on the Interstate Highways, when necessary.

That is the end of Des Moines for myself and any other Humans who join with me in this permanent and forever Boycott.

Thus begins, 'Des Aliens'.

*************************

A general discussion of the awfulness of ButtUgly Windmills is therefore appropriate at this time.

I shall present that information in episodic form.

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One of the most obvious and ghastly evidences of the extreme level of political corruption that is involved in the ButtUgly Windmill Industry -- is not where the ButtUgly Windmills are -- but, where they are not.

At these places, there are no ButtUgly Windmills in sight:

Council Bluffs
DePuke
Des Aliens
Iowa City
Cedar Vapids (formerly Cedar Rapids) -- there is one (1) just south of there, but it cannot be seen from the center of the Vapids.

These are all centers of White Homo Fascism, and queer as a money-laundered three dollar bill. They are infamous holes of anti-Life pestilence and the Queerism Disease.

Not a single ButtUgly Windmill can be seen from those styes of DemoCrapia.

Do you think that is a coincidence?

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Remember -- the BUWIs are the same assholes that perpetuated the Global-Warming Hoax, which they had to rename as Climate Change -- when it was revealed by their own emails that there were no such causes and conditions as they claimed were part of the Global Warming Scam.

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Where are the flocks of birds? I have never seen a flock of birds of any kind flying near, or around, or through the sewers of Queer Sphincters In The Sky!

Why do phony environmentalists not care about that? Why do phony environmentalists care only about ButtUgly Windmills?

Where are the birds?

Prove I am wrong!

Do not fake it with captured flocks of birds!

[[What should false environmentalists really call themselves? If you stuck the business end of a shotgun into the ear of a BUWI fake environmental token, and said -- “What are you!” -- what would it say? Would it still be lying? Does it know what it really is?
Well, the term 'enviro' would have to be removed, as they do not deserve it. I am thinking of -- 'Crap-in-your Mental'(ists). But, I would like to hear what you come up with.]]

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Where is the full disclosure of all phases of the BUWI destruction of America?

How many millions of ButtUgly Windmills do the BUWIs intend to foul the Earth with?

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We have already reached such an advanced state of decay and corruption and ugliness because of the BUWIs -- that it is now a 'plus' and a selling point (and a realty advertising benefit) if your town is not attacked by, and loused by, and infested with ButtUgly Windmills -- like the following towns in Iowa are:

Iowa Falls, IA
Pomeroy, IA
Fonda, IA
Adair, IA
Blairsburg, IA
Walnut,IA
Mount Carmel,IA
Wellsburg,IA
Manchester,IA
Otho,IA
Bradford,IA
Lehigh,IA
Moorland,IA?
Delaware,IA
Haverhill,IA
Green Mountain,IA
Schaller,IA -- in Schaller the DemoCrap Bosses have put up a sacrificial alter for praying to their ButtUgly Windmill Idols.

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To greedy bastards and bitches -- everyone in Iowa was born to be screwed, blued and tattooed with a BUWI ID number.

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Designing towns and buildings for pleasing appearances and architecture is now absurd, anywhere within 10 miles of the ButtUgly Windmill graveyards.

This represents a serious demise of rural architecture. I say rural, because the scum that build the ButtUgly Windmills are careful not to put up those Sphincters In The Sky in cities of Greedy Voters -- where they really belong.

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Since the ButtUgly Windmills alter the natural migration routes of all birds, wherever they are built, is that not illegal? Is that not harassment and threatening activity against the birds that are affected by the ButtUgly Windmills?

Answer: Most certainly. It is legalized attempted genocide.

-----

Watch this -- next, the BUWIs will train flocks of new birds to fly through their Sphincters In The Sky and then claim that those birds have no difficulty with ButtUgly Windmills during their (fake) migration flights.

Kinda makes you sick -- don't it?

You know what the BUWIs will say -- this was all factored into the environmental impact statement for the ButtUgly Windmills.

One?

One environmental impact statement?

For states smothered by ButtUgly Windmills?

What prostitute piss-ant-for-hire approved that environmental impact statement? You know the answer. I showed you a picture of that fat queer freakshow.

And -- where is that statement?

I cannot find it on the Internet!!!!!

Why do the People of America not have free access to that queer environmental impact statement?

Who or what is hiding it?

And, why do the People of America not have direct access to the next terrible plans of the BUWIs? And the next? And the next?

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You see, their atrocious and absurd lies that their ButtUgly Windmills are slender and graceful (like the cracks of their asses, they hope) are why I can describe those ugly machines as ButtUgly all day long.

Assholes are ugly, and if the Truth be known -- assholes are meant to never be seen and seldom heard -- which I know is politically incorrect -- so I guess I will never be on TV.

Gee -- think of all the assholes I will miss.

Comments?

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The only times that the ButtUgly Windmills look half-way acceptable are when they are almost invisible -- such as in white-outs, heavy snow, very dense fog, or moonless nights -- if the lights are off.

At night, anywhere within 10 miles of the ButtUgly Windmills, the skies and the land look like they have been diseased with some kind of flashing red Night Measles. A Night Measles infliction, that makes Iowa look like something out of a demented alien's home-sick landscape. In Reality, it is the result of the -- 'WE DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOU!' attitude of the BUWIs -- which you are never supposed to have enough intelligence to realize is directed against you --
and your children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children --
and their children -- and their children -- and their children -- and their children ...

Well, after all -- the BUWIs have a lot of reason to expect none of you to know what they are really doing.

You vote.

BUWIs hide their true identities and their real intentions, like Queer Coalitions try to smother and hide the real states that they pretend to be, and want to replace. And, to all such swine -- as long as you continue to Vote, you must be fooled (successfully) and a dupe of the political games of it all.

Watch TV -- lose all.

Vote -- and you are hopeless. Unless, of course, you are sinister.

Sinister -- in a Sinister World -- on Planet Sinister.

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What was the first question that the queer BUWIs asked to each other, about where to put their ButtUgly Windmills?

It should have been -- “Where is there the most wind for our innocent machines?”

Instead, it was -- “Where are the most greedy and stupid people for our (bleep) ugly machines?”

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Il Duce Branstad -- Prison Warden:

Hah, the city idiots think they have a right to rape Iowa!

That is the exact same imbecility that their ancestors did to the American Indians -- all of whom are now living on Indian Reservations.

This time, Real Iowans are being targeted as the ignorant and inferior race; and Iowa is being turned into a reservation, to exist for the greed and expediency of the pseudo-environmental (anuses), the ModoRats, and all politicians.

Il Duce Brandstad, is nothing more than a prison warden in charge of the Iowa Reservation/Junk Yard. The indian reservations had indian agents in charge of them. Iowa, has the little Dictator Branstad in charge of it -- entirely for the benefit of the greedy (anuses) outside of Iowa -- while taking advantage of the greedy assholes (oops!) that have been deliberately raised to be such, inside of Iowa.

In the indian wars -- indian tribes were used against all other indians to subdue them, cheat them, rape them and put them on reservations -- then the collaborators too were raped and put on reservations.

Today in Iowa, the stupes and imbeciles of Des Aliens are being used to subdue and enslave the rest of all Iowans -- then, they too will be subdued and put in chains (mental and/or physical).

Finally, Iowa will be a White Slave Reservation -- owned and operated by the greedy bastards and bitches outside of Iowa -- using the greedy hog bastards and hog bitches inside of Iowa.

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Why is this country not using nuclear energy to power the growing needs of the nation?

Answer:

1. A Big Business network of Global-warming frauds (fake environmentalists) that want to get rich over the dead bodies of farmlands across the Midwest.

2. The things inside the Energy Genre (filled with Government Sucks and Global-warming Scammers) are too feeble and puerile and pissant to build and operate safe nuclear power plants.

So, what can be done about that?

Answer: I favor telephone poles myself. Ornamented telephone poles. Christmas early!

The other obvious answer is to hire foreign nations (that are good with all things nuclear) to come to America, and build a lot of nuclear power plants here. At each nuclear power facility, a town for the foreigners would have to be built and given to that nation as their land by treaty agreement. That would create hundreds of islands of foreign lands here in America, each related to a nuclear power plant; but that is the price a nation has to pay for having Perverts run the Energy Departments and 'Alternate' Energy Styes.

Degenerates are, after all, dedicated only to Degeneration. And with Degeneration, comes the Inability to function and maintain -- anything.

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Oh, by the way -- do you see all of those RepuCrap political posters along the Iowa highways these days? For Il Duce Branstad and its cronies? That kind of mass advertising/brainwashing is exactly what happens when Mexican and Central American Dictators come up for 're-election'; and all of their past sins, and lies, and crimes against the State must be covered over, and the Idiot Voters must be intimidated one more time.

Welcome to the Dictatorship State. And, we only grow one tator at a time in this State -- thank god.

The lives of every Real Iowan have been diminished, stained, and tarnished by the greedy whoring and political machinations of the Little Duke From Hell; and its alliances with the DemoCraps, Monkey Lawyers and Monkey Judges. And now, signs for its re-election litter the Iowa Landscapes -- paid for by its partners in Crime and the Hot Tub.

And, you know -- those scum would not be spending their money on a campaign for Il Duce if they did not expect that there are enough 'Idiots that have been Lied To' still existing in Iowa to hold at least a minimal election with.

It is no wonder the Hispanics here expect to rule this state within thirty years. Who is going to prevent that? The Wussy Mafia of Polk County?

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More later,

Markel Peters


THE REALITY:

ONCE THE TRUTH HAS BEEN SAID -- THEIR LIES ARE DEAD!

TRANSLATIONS--TRADUCCIONES--TRADUCTIONS--ÃœBERSETZUNGEN


I AM INCLUDING A WEBPAGE TRANSLATOR.

I HOPE YOU CAN UNDERSTAND IT IN YOUR LANGUAGE.

WHATEVER TRANSLATION IS CREATED BY THIS -- IT WILL NOT BE AS GOOD AS THE MESSAGE WAS IN THE ORIGINAL ENGLISH. THAT IS BECAUSE LANGUAGES DO NOT TRANSLATE MECHANICALLY. IT TAKES A HUMAN BRAIN TO BE ABLE TO PROPERLY TRANSLATE THE WORKS OF ANOTHER HUMAN BRAIN.

THANK YOU

TRANSLATE INTO YOUR LANGUAGE

QUEERAPSY IS HERE, AND THIS TRUTH IS NOT GOING AWAY.

I Recently Put Out A Message Entitled 'Pre-Queerapsy Levels', About The Inevitable Brain Leprosy That Happens To All Queer Media Addicts And Idiot Voters. (Same Thing)
Here Is A Web Link To The Original Document Of That Message.
Please Distribute This As Widely As Possible Throughout Our Species. It Will Help Humans Who Have To Deal With Queerapsy Victims.
Thank You
Markel Peters
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1OwHSUal4EYVBt2hlDEEdIxNYG3yJ99nx/view?usp=sharing
The original version.

IF A DEMOCRAP IS SMILING -- SOMETHING INNOCENT IS DYING!

IF A DEMOCRAP IS DYING -- SOMETHING INNOCENT IS SMILING!

COPY EVERYTHING THAT YOU CAN FROM THIS WEBSITE INTO YOUR OWN PERSONAL HARD DRIVES!!!!!!!!!!

SOON -- IF THE DEMOCRAPS HAVE THEIR WAY -- ALL OF THIS WILL BE 'FORBIDDEN KNOWLEDGE'.

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DEBT CLOCK IS HERE!

VIEW DEBTCLOCK TO SEE FOR YOURSELF HOW UNCARING AND VILE THE SO-CALLED GOVERNMENT OF THE POLITICS CIRCUS IS.

http://www.usadebtclock.com/

THESE ARE THE REAL NUMBERS BEHIND THE SQLD TAKEOVER OF ALL POLITICS.

HERE ARE SOME OTHER DEBT CLOCKS FOR SO-CALLED DEVELOPED COUNTRIES>>>>

http://countrymeters.info/en/Canada/economy

http://countrymeters.info/en/Mexico/economy

http://countrymeters.info/en/Venezuela/economy

http://countrymeters.info/en/Brazil/economy

http://countrymeters.info/en/Argentina/economy

http://www.nationaldebtclocks.org/debtclock/russia

http://countrymeters.info/en/Saudi_Arabia/economy

http://countrymeters.info/en/South_Africa/economy

http://countrymeters.info/en/India/economy

http://countrymeters.info/en/Taiwan_(Republic_of_China)/economy

http://countrymeters.info/en/Singapore/economy

http://countrymeters.info/en/Republic_of_Korea/economy

http://www.nationaldebtclocks.org/debtclock/china

http://www.nationaldebtclocks.org/debtclock/japan

http://www.australiandebtclock.com.au/

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Labels Of All Posted Messages--A Way To Search Through Messages By Labels

Fakery and Fake Fakery

Fakery and Fake Fakery

Chain of Evil -- still has not changed.

Chain of Evil -- still has not changed.
Chain of Evil -- still has not changed

WARNINGS

This blog exists to inform the People, of the 'Real Truth' about the real enemies of the Human Species. These Truths are not objectionable, as they are Truths. Only the telling of them can be objectionable, to those who wish to hide the Truth. If the Truth is something you HATE and therefore object to - go elsewhere!

OTHERWISE, YOU ARE INVITED TO CONTINUE READING!!

Do not fear being tracked down to your IP. If you are not SQLD and/or malicious -- I will not track you down!

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The blogging community is quite aware of the mass cyberattacks (as complaints) which the enemies of all Humans use - to attempt to disable the blogs of anyone who writes the Truth. You tried that with all of the newspapers in Iowa, and that will never be forgiven. Don't waste your time trying that with this blog. Blogspot has already been informed that you will try it.