By Anna Von Reitz
Hunter Toyofuku-Aki and Adriaan Fondse are just mercenaries like others who have come and gone, speaking one thing and doing another. Boring. Predictable.
Trying to substitute a licensed British Crown franchise commercial bank for a publicly chartered American International Trade Bank?
That's a stretch even for Satan. Like trying to substitute an armadillo for a llama.
Passing off welfare entitlements whenever they feel like it, if they feel like it, instead of delivering the inheritance that is owed?
Offering loans when what is owed is prepaid credit?
Accusing me of wrong-doing, when they are clearly the ones responsible for deceit, breach of trust, theft, misrepresentation and more?
Quote me: "Whatever they are accusing the other person of, is what they are doing themselves."
Hunter was given his Big Chance to break free and live the life he wanted, but transplanted or not, he didn't want it with all his heart.
When the challenge came, he clung to his indoctrination and folded like a greeting card.
Sorry to say it, because I always keep faith with what is highest and best in people, as long as they work with me and try.
I slogged through my time in grade to get here and don't have a perfect record of absolute clarity and courage. Nobody does. But in this horrific training ground, there is no second prize.
Hunter was in line to have all his dreams come true, and gave it away with both hands; I can't imagine a worse position for a man to be in than to have to live every day facing that reality. There is no punishment I could give him that would compare with that.
So, justice is already served and I am on track, keeping straight on.
Left to myself, I really, truly don't spend more than a nano-second a day thinking about what they did. They showed their truth and they are what they are, for everyone to see, defeated by their own words and actions --- without any malice from me.
Adriaan Fondse has been running back and forth like a small dog for most of his life, trying to find a crack in the banking system where he could shoe-horn in and get a "big win" for him and his cronies -- personally. Personal wealth. Personal power. His soul wants a rewrite of African history in which the Boers won, and still dominate the whole continent ---instead of the British, but as Colonialist powers just the same.
Would you prefer raspberry feces a la mode, or chocolate?
No, been there and done that with the American political system. Don't intend to extend that false paradigm to Africa, too.
I understood that what Gaddafi was advocating for Africa -- a single gold-standard currency and a federation of nation-states -- was nothing more or less than what we had done ourselves two hundred years ago.
And when "the U.S." and its European franchisees went in as mercenary forces and stole all the gold in the Libyan treasury without a word being said by anyone, I knew what to think, too.
They have to get up earlier in the morning to keep my interest. What news is it, when thugs act like thugs? "World Martial Authority" --talk to my foot.
They keep doing the same old things the same old way, monotonously, year after year, decade after decade. They haven't leveled up since Julius Caesar crossed the Rubicon.
Now they are in a crossfire they can't answer. Pinned down. Wiped out. Back tracking. Trying to figure out what hit them. They don't believe in God.... or Justice.... or Truth.... so they will look and wonder for a long time, nursing their arrogance and false pride, never admitting that they were just straight up dishonorable and wrong.
Never realizing that when they attack me, they are attacking celestial powers, never humbling themselves, all their karma falling on them, all their Black Magic spells returning faster than thought.
There's a reason I didn't blink.
So just remember what your Granna is telling you. The hand of the true Lord is upon them. Watch them fall.
The harder they struggle, the louder they speak, the more they try to control the narrative, the more evil they speak against me, the more money they pour into their efforts, the harder they go down.
The same for the IRS, DOJ, and Daniel Applegate, the U.S. Trustees, and all the rest of the cast of characters.
Their days of lying their way to success have come and gone. Their infantile game of pretending that they don't know who we are, and making up different names and personas for us, is down the drain and into the septic tank.
Now comes the vengeance of the True Lord. I don't have to lift a finger or say a word.
And that's why your Granna hasn't said much of anything about this, hasn't answered their accusations, hasn't responded to their slander.
My arrow has already hit. It flew straight to its mark, deep into the heart of the Beast---and the wound is mortal this time.
The Beast may have resurrected itself -- what mystery is that, for a corporation?
Just change its name or registration location, dance around a bit, name some new players as officers, and yes, it can come up "from the sea" again. And again. And again. Indeed, it has done so.
Wisdom waits for the Beast to fall dead at her feet; no need to sweat an outcome that is already ordained, foretold, written in the stars and come to Earth. The Beast may stagger and thrash. It may roar. But the outcome is already here.
As you watch this happen in real time, remember that the Archer was an old woman, past seventy, from an obscure place, shy and motherly, and not seeking anything for herself beyond what is already hers.
Granna
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