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There is nothing greater than writing & creating something from nothing. It's the closest thing to the divine! I have lived in many cultures and it has given me a love for the differences amongst people. I hope you will read the material posted here and open your mind to some stories that might just read YOU!
Date / Time: 3/26/2008 7:56 AM UTC
. . .After all the hugs and well wishes, Len walked out into the Great Hall again. There were no more armed guards or fears of saying the wrong thing. In fact it had been easy. He had realized earlier that all he had to do was say the opposite of everything he really believed and felt with as much passion as he really felt it.
He started watching the TV screen as C-Span reported and broadcast the speeches and the debate. Laws to take charge of the millions of loose guns were about to usurp the statutes of the document that gave power to all other statutes that followed it. The TV was echoing in the low roar volume that slightly resonated throughout the Great Hall, but the boy could make it out.
“You Americans have too many guns, it is dangerous.” One talking head declared in an Asian accent.
“In your country, who has guns?” some unknown radio talk show host enquired.
“Police…police have the guns.”
“Who else has guns…do you have a gun? Do criminals have guns?” the talk show guy asked.
“No, I do not have a gun, the police have the guns and they protect me.”
“Then, if only the police have the guns, perhaps you need protected from the protectors, what ya think?”
“You don’t understand, we don’t need guns.”
“Look, the truth is, the police have guns, the criminals still have guns, but the good, hard-working people, like yourself, have nothing but trust in the police. There, see! Gun laws are impotent! The people who need the protecting have no means of doing so and are a dependent mass. They dare not piss off the ones keeping them alive!”
The boy took his eyes off the tube and looked deeply into his not-so-long life and memory and lowly repeated the words he certainly recalled since they had been forced into his head in his home school around his mom’s kitchen table, back when such things still mattered, at all. The document, in which the words were both enshrined and entrusted, stood out in his mind! These words had been stated by Jefferson that no people should easily throw off the authorities of one’s traditional political bands. In fact, he understood what Jefferson meant. His daddy had made sure of that. Jefferson had even stated that a people ought to long suffer even certain injustices than to haphazardly rid themselves of a system that had, for so many years and through so many trials and tribulations, served them well. Nevertheless, Jefferson had used that very argument as his catalyst to cast off the bonds of abuse in order to create the nation. Even this young man knew and understood the words of Jefferson.
“How long is long suffering?” Young Len Garret angrily asked himself.
Now, those verses rang out in the young man’s mind and declared the necessity to once again cast off the bonds that now threatened to overwhelm humanity forever and which had destroyed his life. It was time, just like Daddy had said, time to end what now did not resemble, in any manner, what Jefferson and his brothers had envisioned or enshrined in the constitution. It needed to be ended or perhaps rediscovered. That was an issue to be decided at a later date. At the moment, the boy was in the eye of an amassing malaise caused in part from his knowing what was ahead and sorrow at having come to the conclusion that all rational options had been exhausted. Jefferson’s words rang loud and rang clear in his mind.
“And Why not?” he demanded to know of himself.
The boy remembered his daddy. His father had only recently come back from the first Iraq war, mentally. It all flooded his young head. He had only been 14. He had seen his father go away in 91, only to eventually become like a spent shell, after he came home. It pissed Len Garret off!
“There isn’t even the very slightest scrap of mercy or anything even slightly resembling mere pity in the eyes of modern day lady liberty!” he lamented and raged at the thought.
It infuriated him that after having only come to life a few short years earlier that he’d have to shed his skin and live life on the rough, to get ready and to maintain the image of his family’s massacre before his mind both day and night.
“My mother and sister there, blown apart without mercy!”
What his daddy had done did not merit his last ounce of devotion, which the young man was fully determined to save for a much more important, more opportune moment that would surely require the laying down of body and soul for the purpose. Yet, the words rang out in his head and he spoke them with his voice echoing and resounding in the marble-walled building in which he waited to know his fate. Throughout and around the dome as young Len Garret stood, he knew he would grow into his shoes.
He looked directly up into the dome, recalling the words. He had thought about just blowing the place up, one day, as any hard fighting, devoted soldier would when feeling as betrayed as he did. He didn’t want to be just a Bin Laden who took no care for innocents, though he knew one day, he’d probably have to kill a few. He wanted a more massive plan with a far more extensive outcome. He had already had years to plan it.
“I gave my time in the box!” the boy declared to himself, while not even uttering a sound.
“I got myself thoroughly checked out.” the boy told himself in a congratulatory manner.
He let the words run through his mind, he remembered the fully armed guards who had surrounded him. He recalled his shackles and cuffs and again the small army that had kept anyone from getting to him or from him getting away. It made him almost chuckle at the comparison of the words of Jefferson to his present state of affairs.
When a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.”
That day so many years before the vision in his sleep, in the dark and dusty land of rebels who were headstrong about bringing down the Union! The child now believed in himself to be doing his duty as a young man, though his heart was burdened, as any grown and tried man should be. At the right time he’d be free, reformed, a true blue ‘how do you do’ man. There would be no doubt, he’d be ready to give himself for a nation that had ceased to love itself, or at least portray himself as such. His time way back then, the moment that had brought about the time in which he now waited for his moment to bring Jefferson’s maxim into reality, once again.
Those days would never leave his mind. He saw his home again. He heard the chopper in the air ready unleash death upon him and the ones he loved! He saw himself aim at the chopper and then heard the sound of the explosion that was the death of his kin and Len Garret’s eyes flew open and he heard the sound of knocking at his front door.
Len came to himself and stood up and wiped the sleep off his face.
“What a day!” he thought as he stretched and heard another, more forceful pounding at the front door. He walked to the door.
The scope and massive consequences both petrified and electrified Len Garret as his eyes opened and he remembered the day. His arm flayed outward from his slumbering position and reached out for the bottle that he nearly knocked to the floor. He turned it up to his mouth and set it back down. His guest would certainly not want any. He worked at remembering the details of the dream he had just seen.
“But, tomorrow, that will be no dream. I’ll have to store that one up in the memory banks as an operation of great magnitude! A great shaking of the Earth, and it all commences tomorrow”
His eyes looked up and remembered the scenes of his father, mother, his sister, all blown away in mercilessness of the political beast. The vision of the night seemed to hang out in front of his eyes.
He thought “Damn, it was nice to be a kid again!” as he opened the door.
Len Garret extended his hand to his guest.
“Mr. Ambassador, pleasure to you meet you.”
The guest looked cautiously from a side view at Len Garret and returned the greeting.
“Salaam Alekum, Mr. Garret.”
All of Steven Clark Bradley's novels are widely available all over the net. Here are a few links to help you read these exciting stories now.Amazon.combooksamillion.compowells.combordersstores.combarnesandnoble.comcopperfields.com
Date / Time: 3/23/2008 5:34 PM UTC
Empathy, that's the word that goes beyond merely feeling sorry for someone's horrible or treacherous state of affairs. By far the most vital part of a story and it's characters is to get the readers to feel their sorrow and their joy.
In "Last Ounce of Devotion Part One" you about a young man and the decisions he faced as though he were being force fed with an oversized mouthful of reality combined with responsibility.
I recently visited the Museum of Psychiatry – An Industry of Death. This was a very sad and important look at the treatments of Mental illness over the past three centuries. Many strange and unbelievable treatments were used and abused by so-called doctors who recommended everything from bleeding the brain to drowning therapy. Yet, the area of the museum that gripped my attention the most firmly was the section on the Holocaust. It was there that I realized the Hitler in his demonic rage against Jews, Gays, Gypsies and the infirm was the final result of an age of teachers of racial cleansing which eventually led to the final solution.
Young Len Garret learned to hate the country his dad had defended and, in young Len Garret’s mind, the nation that that had murdered his father. The words he learned from his father and the attitude and lethality inert in their aim made this young man know that one day he’d stand up to them all and show them! Read "Last Ounce of Devotion Part Two" and feel the fear, anguish and hatred in this young man. Don’t feel sorry for him. Empathize with him, feel his fear, his anger and his determination as he prepares to lay down his last full ounce of devotion.
~~~
Patriot Acts - Last Ounce of Devotion Part Two
Northern Indiana 2009
The image of the day that had necessitated his presence in a place that he deemed as one of the temples of the usurpers who had overtaken the nation. That was what dad had said and this young mind had received a crash course in plotting retribution. The image formed and behind Len Garret’s closed eyes, he saw them coming, all dressed in black, and covered by the absorbing darkness of a night off of Toto Road. The dogs were barking, the lights around the compound flashed on and the invaders dispersed. The radios blared like a rock concert in the silent night air, and the front door flew open with Russell Garret exploding out of the door and waving the assault rifle in all directions…
…“Get off my land!” There wasn’t a sound. “You got a warrant?” Russell Garret screamed. “Did you hear me?”
Inside Len Garret’s dream, he could hear something so distinct and clear and the sound was so recognizable, but not immediately understood. Then he knew. He began to whimper and the glass full of Tequila fell to the floor and rolled against the wall. Len Garret’s eyes flashed open and closed up tightly again. He heard the sounds of blades turning and growing in volume. He saw his father holding the assault rifle and looking straight into the air, turning frequently to get his bearings. Russell Garret turned and saw his wife Amy and their daughter, Belinda and their son, Leonard standing in the front door of their house.
“Go back in the house!” Russell shouted
“What are you doing out here in the middle of the night, Russ?” Amy asked in worried voice.
“Go back inside!” Russell screamed as he looked frantically in ever direction trying to locate the direction of the sound that was really loud now and which sounded increasingly like a…helicopter.
“Something’s happening here and it could be…just get inside the house Amy and get the kids outta here!”
Amy looked behind her and found her daughter, Belinda, but her son, Leonard was gone.
“Where did that boy go?” Amy thought. “He’s fourteen…almost fifteen. He’ll be alright.”
Like a giant stinging bug rising from the Earth, Amy saw it as she looked out past her husband, Russell. She saw it and pointed at it and Russell turned toward the sound, raising his weapon as he swiveled. When Russell Garret had fully turned and aimed his gun at the chopper hovering over them, a shot rang out from the chopper’s gun and a large caliper round buried itself inside Russell Garret’s brain. He fell to the ground and Amy reached behind her and pulled an automatic rifle out in front of her and began to fire.
Someone ran from the woods and stood directly under the chopper. The pilot and his crew were busy getting ready to blow away the country woman standing at her own doorway believing herself to be defending her own property and family, just like Russell had told her to if something happened to him.
“I thought he was crazy, but I paid attention!” she told herself. “Now I know he was right!” She confirmed as she changed guns and kept firing at the chopper.
The person under the chopper back up and got as far away from the hovering craft and then raised his riffle and aimed it at the engines. He started to squeeze the trigger when eight year old Belinda came around in front of her mommy just as four rockets propelled grenades roared to life and took flight in a preordained course.
“Oh, Dear God!” Amy cried out. “Forgive me of my sins, Jesus!” Amy looked at Belinda.
“I love you, my baby!” Amy Garret took her little daughter up to her breasts. Belinda looked up at her mommy.
“Mommy, I…” The RPG’s exploded into the house and Amy and Belinda were torn apart.
“NO! YOU BASTARDS!” screamed the boy just before fourteen year old, Len Garret fired and brought the chopper down in a sudden drop that exploded upon impact. Len had not expected the helicopter to fall so close to him. He jumped to the ground, face first, as a piece of metal flew from the chopper and tore open Len’s neck.
The boy opened his eyes. There was nothing but darkness, later mutating into a place with ornate surroundings he realized he was in the court room. Voices echoed throughout the hallowed chambers as Len Garret sat there, appearing oblivious, but fully aware of his situation and what he would do one day to make his family’s sacrifice have meaning. The surrounding guards looked at him and smiled.
“He was just a Child. He only did what his radical father had taught him.” The witness declared. “I treated him for over a year and I can attest to his right state of mind and that he is fully healed mentally. He exercised excellent social skills and participated in all the team sports and…”
“Thank you Dr. Molar. No further questions.”
"Would the counsel approach the bench."
The lawyers conferred with the judge and young Len Garret thought about the Psychiatrist’s words. Len knew he had healed, kept up in school, learned a lot about many things that really didn’t matter now, because three years after having seen his father, mother and sisters murdered before his eyes didn’t change one damn thing for the seventeen year old Len Garret.
“Son” The judge announced. “Stand up please, Mr. Garret.” The boy rose from his chair.
“Do you realize that you killed those officers in that helicopter and that it was wrong to have done that under any circumstance?”
The boy’s thought said, “They deserved it and I’d like to blow your brains out too!”“Play nice to be bad later!” he speculated.
To the judge, his mouth said, “Yes sir, I know I was wrong and I am truly sorry.” Tears stared to flow from his eyes, some that were manufactured, but many that were real and produced by the sheer weight of the burden of what he had gone through and the understanding of what he would have to do in the future.
The judge looked into Len Garret’s face and the longer he looked the more the magistrate’s face softened. “Young man, I believe you. I also have a lot of sadness over what happened to your family. It is my admonition to the government rather than you. Go out now and make yourself someone who can help keep the power of this nation in check. Get an education and raise a great family and I promise you’ll die one day, a happy man.”
“The hell with your “happy man” crap!” Len thought. To the judge, he just nodded in the affirmative.
“I am releasing you. You are a free man, Mr. Garret. You are under the custody of your aunt until you reach the age of eighteen, and I hope to never see you in this judge’s court again. . .”
You can read lots more from Steven Clark Bradley at these sites:Steven Clark Bradley's Stories That Read You!Steven Clark Bradley's Underground ControversySteven Clark bradley inspiredauthor.com/promotionSteven Clark Bradley - Published Authors.comSteven Clark Bradley at Blog Talk Radio.comSteven Clark bradley at Communati.comSteven Clark Bradley at Inspired Author.com
Date / Time: 3/21/2008 1:06 AM UTC
Today, America is at war with religious radicals who are hell-bent on destroying Western civilization. We have seen what radical religious fanatics can do to bring a peaceful nation to war. Read "Last Ounce of Devotion" from my next novel, Patriot Acts and see what would happen if our own brand of fanatics, right here at home, teamed up with the Islamic radicals with whom we are at war abroad? The concept is both challenging and lethal! What can turn a child into an extremist? How can a child who was born in the land of the free be transformed into a man who seeks to destroy the land of his birth? I think you will find this chapter stimulating and frightening by virtue of its plausibility and the probability of seeing this scenario played out within the borders of the United States of America. The actions taken to protect The United States of America are not radical reactions to terrorism. They are Patriot Acts!
Patriot Acts - Last Ounce of Devotion by Steven Clark Bradley Part One
Northern Indiana - 2009
Toto, Indiana was no ordinary almost-village. It had some great little stores that sold just about anything. It had countryside, farmland, an abundance of wild reefer, a large contingent of KKK want-a-be’s and the largest concentration of militia groups in the nation. These were not just a bunch of bed and breakfast warriors, but good husbands. They were involved daddies and mommies, devoted believers…at least on Sundays. There were serious and lower-scale business men ready to fight for each other as one with those they employed. All of them were unswervingly ready to give their last ounce of devotion to create a world where freedom was shouted loudly while bigotry reigned king.
The larger towns and small cities around the Podunk spot of Earth that was Toto, Indiana were the fastest growing small cities of the state. Knox, Indiana was the County Seat and had progressed from the “Bloody Bucket Bar” to the “Court House View Tap”. No one was being thrown out of the windows anymore, but the same crazies still drank their fill but were too old to carouse any longer like they used to. The almost town place, North Judson still had a sense of the rustic and, like Knox, was a fundamentally good place to bring up the next generation of defenders of the Constitution, at least that was how they mostly viewed it along Toto Road, the one road that entirely spanned the county. Staying on Toto Road was like a place of refuge. One could traverse the county, into the depth of this country enclave and still feel secure inside their car.
Thoughts of turning left or right off of Toto Road could only be carried out safely by those born in Starke County. Strangers are not too well digested in the land of a thousand armies. The folks around Toto, Indiana did not like them strangers coming in there and looking all over their Jeeps, gawking at their arsenals all set up for the day that the United States Government would most certainly tear up the Constitution and cast it to the wind. The globalists elected to the offices of the land, down from the most menial, elected position in the nation and up to the most powerful office in the world, would most certainly need to be overcome by the people’s sheer willingness to keep what they had yearned and striven for. Almost every car was known that drove up in there. Today was no different in road traffic than any other, except for the special passenger that the old Ford Escort was carrying, as it turned off Indiana Highway 35 North and onto Toto Road heading due west.
Len Garret sat with his feet up on his coffee table and thought about all he had lived through that had brought his to the point of departure that was at hand. He had some visitors who’d be arriving shortly. For the moment though, Garret held a bottle of Tequila in his hand and stared straight up at the portrait of his father that was hung prominently over the Fireplace. Garret had commissioned the painting himself, as a tribute the man who had both beaten him on a regular basis and who had instilled in him a stiff determination to never give into the internationalists, globalists, traitors, fags, or any other lowlife epitaph that he could recall hearing his father use for those who ran the country.
Though Len Garret’s father was a feared and respected memory, that painting over the fireplace served more as a constant reminder that he had unfinished business to conduct than as an act of true feeling for the old man about whom even Len Garret himself had wondered a few times if his father Russell Garret had gone mad.
“Even so, if Dad was crazy then guess the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.”Len Garret thought as his eyes grew heavy. His father’s greatest wish would be realized, starting today…everything would start today.
The old Ford Escort was heading west on Toto Road. For the driver, driving this patch of asphalt was an everyday occurrence. For the dark-faced passengers in the back seat, they had sworn that such a wild and overgrown area would certain spell some kind of mischief against them. Weren’t all these retched people along this backwater place Christians? That point, alone made this journey one that made these guests shaky and worried. Yet, it was about something that would make the world change forever and well worth the risk. The Escort drove into the miniopolis of Toto and turned left onto County Line Road. There was no turning back. It was like a little bit of Vegas in Hicksville, USA.
Len Garret’s fingers felt the skin covering his own visage as he looked at his father’s face. He started staring at the painting profoundly, so deeply, just like a thousand other times, and his eyes flickered, closed, then opened and the remained shut and a world that had long disappeared took on a shape and life, and he saw it all afresh. It was a day he recalled easily, because it had caused him to grow into the man he was today, having had his childhood cut short. He saw that boy again. He had seen him too often after having had his order to his brain to stay awake disobeyed. Each time he ventured into the recesses of his slumbering mind it was like opening the wounds that had closed up outwardly, but still raw and hemorrhaging on the inside.
He saw the boy, in his reverie, seated in the huge hall reading the document that his father had so loved while glancing around at the armed men and women stationed about him. His father had given his last ounce of devotion when the country he had almost given his life for ultimately took it away along with his daughter and wife. In the service of his country and while seeking the protection of his people, which was the goal and stated purpose of the sacred parchment anyway, and which he had believed until realizing that it was really nothing more than a not-so-hidden or secretive organization. But then, politicians did specialize in perception, and he had fallen prey to their tactics, though not necessarily of his own will.
He knew he was young, just Seventeen years old seated there in the grand hall waiting for something, a ruling, a judgment. He was not exactly a child, but except in such cases as this boy, most children his age still never thought about such things. He only knew that his moment had come too early. He wanted to kill them all one minute and run home and play his half-life video game, the next. His mind now knew that his day of games was over. He knew he would see his death, and now forcefully knew that childhood was not a never-ending run and that he was a child no more, for he knew he would die. . .
Date / Time: 3/18/2008 4:17 PM UTC
Date / Time: 3/14/2008 3:30 PM UTC
"Full of complex machinations and apocalyptic visions of a possible future, Nimrod Rising! is a thought provoking work of epic proportions. Steven Bradley has shown us a different, and quite frankly, a frightening way to look at world events. His characters show a depth and complexity that bring them to life in our world, and show an eerie similarity to many of today’s world leaders. Reading the newspaper will never be the same again"
Ronald W. Adams, Author ofKey Lime Squeeze Enspiren Press
Steps Toward Gomorrah...Part Two By Steven Clark Bradley
The nation seemed worn out, wearing visages of the excessively burdened, overly paranoid and completely severed as a people and ravaged by rage. They seemed ready to sell their historic birthright for a mess of new-age porridge; ready to give away their liberty for the gods of peace, prosperity, promiscuity and security!
This highly technologically advanced society seemed to have taken on a life of its own; transforming its citizens into its slaves of self, imprisoned by their own need of self-gratification. The American people now serviced the system rather than the other way around. Was it all an accident? Was this simply the natural evolution of a free and forward-looking people or was this all a conspiracy; a well tooled and orchestrated game of Sodom killing Gomorrah? Issues such as surveillance, environment, social upheavals, genetic mutations, Same-sex marriage, Cyber-space technology, scandal ridden political leaders and new age religions seemed to rob the land of any vestige of the country that had once existed.
Since the Swarm had overrun the world, new laws curtailing freedom of movement, speech and assembly had been passed by the United State’s Congress and signed by the President with no other alternative available. The public had generally accepted these measures. It was not so much that the people were oblivious to their reduced rights. It was also not so much that they agreed with the provisions, which ran roughshod over the constitution. The key to the lack of civil unrest was that there was no other way to achieve even a semblance security without the Patriot Act. It was deemed as logical steps to save the nation. What everyone failed to ask was the fact that if such measures were required to save the American nation then, wasn’t the nation gone already?
The world seemed to have shrunk. New sets of priorities, norms and values appeared in the newspapers, magazines and on the television screens. The government seemed to be in collusion with forces that were, though unseen and intangible, very real as to their impact on the daily lives of the people. The primary goal had become the changing of the basic values, principles and precepts that had governed the lives of the United States since its inception of liberty as a nation. The nation had so ridden itself of the burdens of righteous adherence to a righteous God that when a righteous President had come to power he was ridiculed, maligned, hated and found it impossible to pull the nation back.
The need of keeping track of five billion people throughout the world had also become a major priority. From vacuum tube computers as large as city blocks and containing as little as 64K memory, recent giant advances in computer technology such as chips as small as a fingernail and containing massive amounts of gigabytes of ram now made the Star Wars phenomenon obsolete and ancient in comparison. Computer technological development had now made it possible to track the world’s population within ten feet of its location. The Swarm of evil urchins and their maze of infiltration caused all of these measures to become needed and unquestionably accepted by the masses.
Population control had always remained a sacrosanct secret in the public eye. Nevertheless, the programs, steps and various avenues of raising the acceptability of the experimental inserted chip had been often discussed and proposed during annual, bi-annual a quarterly conferences and meetings of such groups as the Bildeburgers, World Bank, The Trilateral Commission and meetings of several Environmental groups and the Swarm’s circle. Several ways of achieving the goals of these social engineers were discussed in these secret meetings.
When asked if he would support the development of Smart card and the inserted chip under the skin, President Bill Clinton stated categorically,
“Of course I’m for it!”
From Credit cards to debit cards, to smart cards, it would soon become a reality that every American would eventually carry on his or her person, an electronic, description of physical features, family history, address, occupation, criminal record and income tax information and every possible element of one’s life that the government deemed necessary. The inserted chip would go one step further by going beyond the smart card in the wallet or purse that could be lost or stolen to a personalized chip worn at all times under the skin. There had been far too many victims of the Swarm. The government had a need to know all. Thanks to Hamid Assad, the young and intelligent successor to Osama Bin Laden, these evil locusts had infiltrated every facet of Western society and could be found in every nation. From the great political and financial cities of the world, such as Brussels, Luxembourg, London, Paris and New York, the agenda of the New World Order was rushed up because the attacks of Beelzebub had rocked the very lifelines of the free world.
At home, the American Government had given the Federal Emergency Management Agency 12.1 billion dollars for the purpose of setting up Mobil Operational facilities, developing a super-sacrosanct-secret police force and restoring and revamping military bases such as Tonapon, Nevada, and Barstow the purpose of which was to form boot camps for the violent eradication of these insects who had changed America forever. These facilities eventually made pale in comparison. All of these events, people, groups and crisis formed the skeleton of a diabolical system simply waiting to be covered with flesh and to have its nostrils filled with the breath of the devilish life of many languages, cultures and peoples moving ever so closely together.
Promises of peace and assurances of prosperity; it had all melted down creating an avalanche of deception and detestable outcries for change and a return to a past, though not forgotten, much better time. It would only prove attainable only in some imaginary, mental Disneyland! Promises! Promises!
____________________________________________________________
Inside Nimrod RisingWe all know about the life we can all see, touch and feel. What about a world that is as real as the air we breath; but one which is hidden from our sight and as real as the invisible battles going on around us at every moment for the world, the future and for the souls of men and women? Inside Nimrod Rising will give you visual look into a book that could be one of the most important books you will ever read! War, terror, political upheaval, are these simply random acts of intrigue and violence? Or, is there an invisible war between the forces of good and the forces of evil that soon will not be so invisible anymore? Watch "Inside Nimrod Rising" and take a journey into the spiritual beyond that will make you wonder if "Nimrod Rising" is a book of fiction or of truth. In fact, it is both!
Click Hear To Watch Inside Nimrod Rising____________________________________________________________
The Iraq war had been deemed the first real United Nations engagement against the United States of America. It had succeeded in demonstrating no more than the ability of the world to carry out an internationally drawn out plan of battle in one of the world’s most powerful nation. United Nations’ forces, afterwards, would be sent to Somalia, Bosnia, Africa and South America. The United States had, on the one hand, dismantled its forces to such an extent that it could not maintain a drawn out conflict outside of its own hemisphere without the combined and joint efforts of the United Nations. On the other hand, The United States had over extended its commitment of troops to areas of the world where no clear threat to the American public could be explained and no determined American objective could be constructed other than the protection of the “Global Community”. This had been carried out by the liberals without the slightest protest of the majority of the public due to the liberal press that put only the most positive face on monsters of evil. Yet, when the swarm had infected the land causing the nation to return to war in the heart of the nest of vermin, the public outcry was massive and deafening with the media calling the president a tyrant and misguided.
Other Presidents had begun to consult with the United Nations Secretary General as much as with their own congress. Now, this president stood up for the nation and the system was being circumvented and the powers that be would not adhere to it. The New World Order had gained its foundation in such a patriotic fashion! Its impact loomed large as a lunging tiger ready spring upon its prey and its reversal was as plausible as the stopping of a raging locomotive ten feet in front of a rail straddling public transport bus. It had all become so inevitable that the existence of the New World Order and its collusion with the Swarm was not even questioned anymore. Stock markets were surging, interest rates were low, employment was up and inflation was down. America had simply walked into it as a willing, bleating participant. Mammon was taking the world by a storm, and the clouds were gathering.
The all-consuming fear of violence at home and of terrorism from abroad caused the people to give up their freedoms as the price of maintaining security and their need of comfort. The Swarm was simply everywhere! They were not just the type who had struck at the heart of Babylon. Now they were more of a consortium for terror. This driving mistrust of a peaceful and stable world seemed to have forced the countries of the dissolving planet to fall inline with the strategic, political, cultural and economic emerging New World Order. Unity had become the new beckon call that was touted as the promise to ensure continued progress and a continuation of a lifestyle that would remain peaceful, secure and financially lucrative, as though it had ever really been so for the teeming masses.
The world had been thrust into a profound perplexity among the nations. The fear of losing their jobs, homes, dreams and their very lives caused men’s hearts to fail them. It was the promises of the New World Order that would surely avert any breakdown of a society wrought upon the social order.
Date / Time: 3/12/2008 9:28 PM UTC
I hope you enjoy a taste of the world of Nimrod Rising. The Chapter below will give you a feel for a story like no other you have ever read. I hope it makes you want to read to the very end!
Steven Clark Bradley
This is a poem I wrote for Nimrod Rising and is at the beginning of the book. The words in these phrases greatly demonstrate the premise of Nimrod Rising. I hope it will speak to you.
At The End Of Our Days?
Are we at the end of our days?The army of God stands poorly arrayed.Is the final hand about to be played?While the Word of God is so poorly displayed?Are we at the end of our days?
In the evil land please stay your hand.Give us the grace once more to stand.As long as ten righteous remain in the land.Are we ready for the end of our days?
Your hand shall wave from sky to sky.You come to claim the apple of your all-seeing eyeYou shout "Return to me or your nation will die!â€Your word declares your hatred for the lie.Your presence shall be uplifted when the truth will no longer flyat the end of our days!
With the evil one's armies marching to deceive.If the truth is rejected then a lie is believed.We must reject the lie for from Satan it was conceived.Now, return and let the nation be relieved,At the end of our days.
Steven C. Bradley
2011
Steps toward Gomorrah(A Chapter from Nimrod Rising)
Behind the United States and its Constitution was a corrupt movement of the evil, a small group of men whose sole objective was to enslave the globe and humanity in their Master’s world that was devoid of the presence of God and a plot to turn the species into fossils so that the master could reclaim His throne! The beginning of the final step was put into place back to the middle of the 18th Century, and name of the man who put that plot into action was Adam Weishaupt
This satanic plot was launched back in the 1760’s when it first came into existence under the name of the Swarm. This Swarm was organized by one Adam Weishaupt who had become a seeming convert to Catholicism and later a Catholic priest. He was made of one thing; political intrigue. When his skills were finally noticed and his intensions known, the Financiers requested that he abandon his faith and realize his role in the seed of Nimrod. He quickly concurred and defected from the Catholic Church and organized The Minders. They were called by many names; Illuminati, The Bilderbergers, The Guiding Hand and all financed by the International Bankers.
The founding of the invisible net of Luciferians became the source of every war since that very day. It began with the French Revolution, which became an orgy of blood and served as a fine sacrifice to the master like those out of the Temple of the Innocents. After the Swarm was exposed and the darkness faced the light, Weishaupt and his co-conspirators were forced to operate under various other names.
Weishaupt was a Jesuit-trained professor of Canon Law, teaching in Inglecot University, when he defected from Christianity to embrace the Swarm. In 1770, he began to write out the Master’s plan. It was designed to give the forces of Satan ultimate world domination so they could impose the Luciferian ideology. The master wished to destroy the weak and usurping species of Humanity. Weishaupt smiled when he understood what would become of humanity by what would remain of the human race after the final social cataclysm by use of satanic despotism.
Weishaupt completed his task on May 1, 1776, which is internationally celebrated to this day in honor of this great event as May Day. That was the day Weishaupt officially completed his plan which required the destruction of all existing governments and religions. The objective was to be reached by dividing the masses of people into opposing camps in ever increasing numbers on political, social, economic, and other issues, the very conditions facing the United States in its tottering existence. The opposing sides were then to be armed; Terror would crush the masses’ resolve to defend themselves. Fatal incidents would be amply provided which would cause them to fight and weaken themselves, gradually destroying national governments and religious institutions, family and the complete and utter breakdown of all social order!
Meanwhile, all the normal affairs of the current day had already started to tumble downward. TORS had devastated the nation! The fledgling government was in a stupor of the drug they daily injected but which they withhold from the population at large! Monetary and sex bribery was used to gain dominance over men already in high places in the various levels of all governments and other fields of endeavor. Once the leaders and the masses had fallen for the lies, deceits, and temptations of the beast, they were to be held in bondage. The nation had lost its nerve! It refused to see that the means stood before them but they lacked the will to use it! The application of political and other forms of blackmail, threats of financial ruin, public exposure, and physical harm, even death to themselves and loved members of their families caused the detractors to remain silent. Plenty of examples of terror served as fit reasons not to expose one’s self. It had become a nation that had sought to force God’s hand off of the country and now the Eagle was crashing! Guilty of sins of the flesh, the lust of the eye and the boastful pride of life; it was clear, the Nation had failed! Babylon was falling!
The hordes of the Swarm were ingrained in the faculties of colleges and universities throughout the country. They had cultivated their crop of minds from the students possessing exceptional mental ability and who belonged to well-bred families with international leanings. Many of them were chosen for special training in Internationalism, social destruction and moral execution of the established order; granting scholarships, like the Rhodes scholarship, to those selected by the Swarm to put their ideas and levers all in place. There were those who just simply disappeared and were never heard from again. All those were scholars, those able to kill without remorse and those devoid of the fear of death because they had not gone along with the plan. They were to be first persuaded and then convinced that men of special talent and brains had the right to rule those less gifted on the grounds that the masses do not know what is best for them physically, mentally, and spiritually.
All influential people who were trapped to come under the control of the Swarm, plus the students who had been specially educated and trained, were to be used as agents and placed behind the scenes of all governments as experts and specialists. They would advise the top executives to adopt policies which would, in the long run, serve the secret plans of the Swarm’s one world conspiracy, and bring about the destruction of the governments and religions they were elected or appointed to serve.
They were to obtain absolute control of the press so that all news and information could be slanted to convince the masses that the Swarm and the Minders was impossible to defeat! Gaining control of the media was never considered a problem. They had owned them for years!
The great shift had actually begun in the sixth decade of the twentieth century. It was, at first a small movement of young, peace protesters and draft dodgers. It was not until the nineties when one of their lot who had actually marched down the streets of Moscow in protest of America, had risen by sheer cunning and innuendo to the top to become president and the leader of the free world. It had become a redundant title. For when the people’s hearts and minds no longer felt secure, there was no real freedom, and when the people no longer trusted their leaders to do what was right and to be what they could support, there seemed to be no one left to rule over!
It had all been proclaimed, declared, preached, protested, denied and detested for years! The common public had believed that the demise of the Soviet Empire would herald in a new day of peace and prosperity. It had even been given a name straight from the lexicons of political New-Speak as ‘The Peace Dividend’. The ageless and seemingly relentless necessity of the huge military industrial machine would diminish, or so the public was told. In addition, the peace loving, doomsday clock fearing people were promised vast reductions in the federal budget which would, as the sewers of lies proclaimed, in a relatively short space of time, cut back the burden on tax payers who had, after all, maintained the posture towards war at any given moment. The country, the world was taking in fresh gasps of this new air of peace that had suddenly broken out everywhere. Then they fell with a great destruction and death and the whole world mourned! It was then that the gates of hell were swung open wide and the evil hoards of demons infested the soldiers of the swarm! It had become a war that would have no end, for the day of Jehovah was at hand.
The one hundred-day conflict in the Persian Gulf had hardly earned or merited the title of a war but its impact militarily seemed to be minuscule, to say the least. The impact it had on the way the world communicated and the way in which future conflicts, even wars would be conducted was so great that it could not yet be measured, at least not until the swarm had festered. At least not until the slumbering masses in the land of the fat-cat free had been shaken awake by the alarm clock of blood and death on her streets by a new enemy that had no name, no look, no address, no conscience and no borders. It had been during this War that the term, ‘New World Order’ first began to be heralded on the televisions and radios around the world on a daily basis. It soon became clear that some inconspicuous, intangible milieu of bearded and turbaned masters had raised the stakes in the game of peace making vs. waging war and were prepared to kill the child, never spare the mothers and to absolutely hunt down the fathers.
The price to pay seemed now for a peaceful non-explosive world to dwarf the fears in American society concerning the federal deficit. No cost was too high! The cost accrued in the devastation of the Soviet Evil Empire seemed now to be miniscule in comparison with the new swarm of evil minions that had stricken the land as a far more precarious adversary; one that seemed to have invaded from a known region of the world but empowered by a force that was far outside of the tangible existence that could not be felt nor seen by humankind.
This all was consuming the land internally during a time when the principles of right and wrong were being all twisted and discarded for ideas that represented the constitution of the evil one. It had engendered a design that systematically erased the needs of the few and maximized, in economic terms, the utility of the many. This new order had eroded the concept that a country had sovereignty over its own destiny, concerns or people. The New World Order had instead, cemented the idea in the minds of nations, worldwide that no country could any longer concern itself primarily with its own needs and problems.
It had become clear that no State could only concentrate on the policing of its own people. There was a new conception, an abstraction. The people of the world would have to be taught to think globally and pass the ‘Global Test’! There was no longer an American community, a French community or any other community! There was just one big universal village that would protect each other from rogue states that should seek to deviate from the prescribed path of peace, harmony and prosperity. What was to be done with the Swarm overtaking the ripe concrete fields of the new world order like the armies of the Prince of Persia? It was precisely this order that had tamed nations into preserving the promise of global markets and confusing rights and wrongs. Yet, the degradation of national identities had forced the reticent and those who refused to play global ball to break out of the fray.
These self-perceived doers of good by evil means established worldwide organizational networks throughout the expanding underworld of fanatical Wahabi Allah worship and eventually united with those who simply loved to kill, maim and torture because they loved mayhem! They grew to such an extent until nations could no longer defend or protect themselves from their terror, which they sought to impose on all perceived enemies. How could one declare war on the invisible nation of Nimrod?
America had expanded its horizons from sea to shining sea. Sweat, blood and tears had forged it. There had always been that pioneering spirit that had first thrust people from all walks of life to set sail for the new world, and to survive there once they had planted their feet on the new soil. Yet, America had become a land striving for pleasure at any cost. Thomas Jefferson had penned the words himself; actually quoting from John Locke’s words, that humanity had certain inalienable rights such as life liberty and the pursuit of happiness though John Locke had stated that a people had the rights of life and liberty, the pursuit of property. Locke had desired to instill in the minds of people that they had the right to ownership, posterity and physical possessions that would one day give proof to their having been on the Earth. In changing Locke’s words, Jefferson had in reality set America’s eyes toward some unexplainable, unreachable goal of pleasing one’s self at all cost, even at the price of selling out one’s own freedom, one’s own country! Such attitudes and inabilities to act to save the land had left the people bewildered and always in the throws of change.
The locust had come in as a storm that could not be measured in severity, and which by no means could ever be stopped. Babylon would fall to the ground before eyes could be aroused, and indeed she had. That ungodly day when the smoke rose up like the face of Lucifer and consumed those who fled from its face; when missiles of concrete slammed into the bodies, hearts and minds of those who endured its rage and it had ushered in the Swarm and the entire world wept!
The changes in society brought about by the Swarm were at first subtle. Then, as the doors into the misty creeping social abyss had finally swung wide open, very distinct tactics were revealed that did, in fact, undermine the very social fabric of a once noble and moral society. Laws were passed that would sentence anyone to death who willfully, through some violent act, caused the death of an unborn fetus even if the mother was not killed. Yet, American justice and American society had collaborated in the murder of tens of millions of unborn babies in the form of thousands of abortion clinics across the land. This inconsistent ideal and the scourge of sexual diseases had also planted their venomous roots. Not to be worried, safe sex could still be had, or so it was proclaimed, and children were challenged to make their own decisions about when to have and how to have ‘Safe Sex’ and how to safely take drugs no matter what their parents had to say about it, never mind the moral issues or the consequences to ones health and to decide their own perceived genders!
Students were taught to turn in their parents if they felt they were being abused in some way. These things were not wrong anymore simply because society had decided so. Nobody had stopped to ask what God had felt!
You can read lots more from Steven Clark Bradley at these sites:
Steven Clark Bradley's Stories That Read You!Steven Clark Bradley's Underground ControversySteven Clark Bradley - Published Authors.comSteven Clark Bradley at Blog Talk Radio.comSteven Clark bradley at Communati.comSteven Clark Bradley at Inspired Author.com
amazon.combarnesandnoble.combordersstores.combooksamillion.compowells.comcopperfields.com
Date / Time: 3/10/2008 9:31 PM UTC
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