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Wednesday, December 12, 2018

Money and Favorite Uncles

By Anna Von Reitz

I had five Uncles on my Mother's side of the family, and they were all favorites--- in different ways. 

There was Julius, the hunting, fishing, orchard-pruning, campfire- making, ghost story-spinning Uncle.  He would pack an extra bologna sandwich and take me along just because he missed his own daughter who was all grown up.  

And Gene, the High Society Uncle, with the fancy suits and Lincoln Continentals and an addiction to good whiskey. He was so handsome the women used to literally gasp.  Not that they meant to.  He'd blow into town like a High Wind and take us all to the movies or the Strawberry Festival or whatever else was going on.

And Merrill, the Bonne Homme Uncle, who taught me how to catch a Snapping Turtle with a willow branch, how to lay a straight course of bricks, and who could name all the constellations in the sky.  He was the quietest Uncle, but also the most observant.  That's why I got the most spankings from him....

There was Merton, my Mother's Fraternal Twin, the dreamy musician and mathematician who could play any instrument in the band, do any kind of sum in his head, and make a stone grow.  He was a Radio Operator in Patton's Third Army, and I don't think he ever really came home.  

And finally, Henry, who was a Pilot in the US Army Air Force flying giant transport planes "over the Hump" in World War II; he had a smile like Henry Fonda and everyone loved him, even me, though he teased me without mercy and was forever pulling sly jokes.

Henry was the kind of Uncle who would pull quarters out from behind his ears and pretend to have captured your nose, the kind of guy who would tell you that your face was covered in purple spots for no reason at all, who would switch his empty can of pop for your full one if you let him, who would ask what time of day it was at ten o'clock at night.... 

You had to stay on your toes with Henry.  

Not one of us kids was slow on the uptake, and it was largely because of him.  

He was always up to something.  Some joke.  Some deceitful prank. Some silly observation that was a combination of cynical and sweet. 

It's because of Henry that I recognized the con job of money early on. 

It was plain to me that no piece of paper was equivalent to candy bars.  Even at age four. 

I said to him one day, "Why are all these people pretending about money?  Is it some kind of game?" 

He coughed rather violently, then gave me a slow, considering stare. 

"Well, yes, I suppose it is," he said. "But it's a game nobody has any choice about playing." 

That set my young wheels spinning again.  Okay, it's a game, but we don't have a choice?  Since when are games mandatory?  

The plain fact is that money is a con game worse than any sideshow scam, is now and always has been.  And just as Henry said, we are being forced to play this con game via "Legal Tender Laws" which are themselves illegal. 

Can you all say, "forced and inequitable contract"?

For over a hundred years, we have been treated to the spectacle of otherwise sane Americans accepting nothing but an I.O.U. from the Federal Reserve in exchange for our apples and widgets and labor. 

That's where the staggering "National Debt" of the Municipal and British Territorial United States comes from --- from all the credit that we have extended to them under force and duress of "Legal Tender Laws".  And that's what makes us their priority creditors. 

Paper really isn't equivalent to chocolate bars.  

That, and the fact that we paid the blackguards up front face value for their otherwise worthless script. We, ourselves, underwrote the currency even before anyone began trading it, which adds another whole layer to the fraud. 

Robbed, embezzled, conned --- call it what you will.  Our public servants have done this to us all and the banks have colluded with them on it. 

The day is going to come when you are all going to wake up and shake your heads like Rip Van Winkle and say, "What is all this nonsense?"  

And you will know, as I have known all these years, that money is nothing but a game that you've been forced to play by people having less than zero authority to impose Legal Tender Laws on you in the first place. 

When you finally realize that its all just an ugly joke, that you have been a fool, and that "the government" is at fault for this, you will no doubt be angry, too.  

And you will wonder---- oh, my! oh, my! --- what do we do?  

The first thing most people do is run headlong down to the jewelry store or gold exchange and start buying gold coins and bullion and stock in mining companies, but there, too, you are being short-changed. 

It's the whole proposition of money that stinks, not just the form of it. 

It doesn't really matter what you use "as" money --- paper or metals or plastics.  Wampum beads will do as a cure.  It's all just nothing but Flim-Flam de Jour. 

And that is the part where most people balk and blink and think: what? There's no good alternative?  It's not even a matter of alternatives?  It's all just bunko in the first place? 

But if there's no money --- no money at all --- what then? 

Then we finally deal with the reality of life and our need to be able to translate bongo drums into shoe leather and pig snouts into pomade. And we deeply consider --- maybe for the first time ever --- how to construct a monetary system that is honest?


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Dorothy, Come Home!

By Anna Von Reitz

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz was published in 1900, so all those people who are drawing upon the obvious similarities between Dorothy's trip out of Kansas and our jurisdictional kidnapping must be wrong..... or are they? 

Everyone forgets that there was an earlier bankruptcy than the one in 1933, the bankruptcy of the Scottish Interloper doing business as "The United States of America, Incorporated" from 1868 to 1953. 

That first bankruptcy technically began in 1896 and went to court in 1907 and was in process until it finally settled in 1953.  Frank L. Baum had plenty of time, if he was an Insider, to contemplate the impacts of this first bankruptcy and write it all down as a children's story. 

By the time the second bankruptcy of the Roman Catholic Delaware Corporation doing business as "the" United States of America, Incorporated hit in 1933, our land resources were already impounded as security for the first bankruptcy and weren't available.  So FDR used us, our bodies and our labor and our private assets, to back-stop the debts of the second bankruptcy.  

That's why the results that Frank L. Baum presented originally in 1900 didn't become as obvious as he assumed until the 1930's.  

We have been "transported" to the foreign jurisdiction of the British Territorial United States and then kidnapped again into the foreign jurisdiction of the Municipal United States --- and all without any Due Notice or Due Process from our unfaithful servants.  

At which point, it's time for "Dorothy" to click the heels of her Ruby Slippers three times and realize --- "There's no place like home...." 

If you are missing America the way it should be, then it is more than past time for you and millions of others to take up the challenge posed by these Usurpers and False Trustees.  

Donald Trump is doing his best, but he can't do it alone from his side of the fence.  It requires a collaboration.  Dorothy and Toto have to do their part, and then the Good Witch Glinda has to do hers. 

If you've been in the proverbial "Land of Oz" as long as you care to be, then get started on the road home.  Declare and record your correct nationality and political status, and either join or start your own County Jural Assembly.  

There are a lot of people out there selling one idea or another, focusing on one part of the fraud or another, but the only ultimate solution is to go home to Kansas and restore the lawful government and the Public Law you are owed. 

Donald Trump is the President of a bankrupt foreign corporation. About the best he can do is keep the boat afloat and fend off false claims against the cargo by would-be pirates.  The real solution and the only real solution that there is, is up to me and you.  

Click those Ruby Slippers. 

Assemble your State Jural Assemblies and get ready to "reconstruct" the Federal States of States---- a job that has been pending for 150 years.  Once you reclaim your status as a Kansan, Vermonter or Minnesotan or..... and assemble your State Jural Assembly, the so-called "Eternal Emergency" will be over at last.  

And so will any excuse for European hanky-panky and false claims in commerce. 

You will be home, back in Kansas.  Or California.  Or Wyoming.  Or Michigan.  Or Maine.  Or.....  and all the Wicked Witches can just go flap their jaws somewhere else. 


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