Posted on 01/07/2021 10:16:52 AM PST by winoneforthegipper
See post 61. Shooter looks like a middle-aged white man.
I may be wrong, but I think the armed Capitol Police who stand inside the Senate and House chambers dress in black suits like the Secret Service. So he may have been a Capitol Policeman, not a congressman. Oh, excuse me: a congresshuman of indeterminate gender identity.
It reminded me of the Kent State shootings.
Blazer, white shirt and cuff links is standard CP supervisor attire.
ping
Thanks for the narrative account.
Seen a couple of others & it really helps with the bigger picture.
I’m curious about your specific take on why the crowd seemed less friendly then previous Trump rally crowds. Another first person account specifically notes that people were typically very polite. They said they’d even dropped things a couple of times, and before they could pick them up, someone else already had and was handing it back.
Do you think it possible that the portion of the crowd you got in with was higher percentage infiltrators? How do you read it?
It wasn’t a Congressman, it was a police officer who has been put on administrative leave pending an investigation.
Thanks for being there. We fight or we to some degree surrender. I think those at the Capitol were doing good at least so far as I know about it.
In re going up in flames pardon me if I am being stupid but isn’t it made of marble or stone? I would think it could burn much.
WOULDNT think it would burn much
The British knew how to build a bonfire. You just stacked the furniture, sprinkled it with gunpowder and put a torch to it.
They built multiple fires inside the Capitol, immolating the Supreme Court, the Library of Congress and the splendid chambers of the House and Senate.
I know the Brits burned it out. I thought we rebuilt with mostly nonflammable substances.
I was there yesterday. I got in line around 6am for the WH Ellipse and the line was already wrapped entirely around the Washington Monument. After about two hours of slowly moving, we realized we weren't going to get into the Ellipse so grabbed a spot by the Jumbotron outside the main area.
Cold and windy the entire day. I should have dressed warmer. Just before Trump was scheduled to speak at 11, Rudy took the stage and pumped us up. He and the Constitutional lawyer gave us tremendous hope that the election fraud was about to be blown wide open.
Trump was then over an hour late speaking. Not a good sign. Then when he kept saying that he "hoped" Pence would do the right thing at the Capitol, the tone of the crowd started to change a bit. After Trump's speech, the entire mass of people started heading to the Capitol. I got in line on Constitution Ave and took about 45 minutes to reach the left side of the Capitol.
I knew right away something was off. There were flash-bangs and people were running over barriers and occupying the bleachers where the Inaugurations are held. It was difficult to get news because there was virtually no bandwidth for cell phones. I couldn't get a Tweet out for hours, never mind coming here to FR.
I never went into the Capitol but stood on the perimeter watching all that went on. Around 4pm, the tear gas and flash-bombs went off in earnest and people started fleeing the scene. I figured it was time to get going so we headed to the Federal Triangle Metro station and got out of town to where my car was parked (Tyson's Corner, VA). Then a long drive back to the NYC area. Didn't get home until nearly 1am.
I was then up at 6am for work and put in a 12 hour day trying to catch up from yesterday and deal with today's incoming. So I am exhausted and about to go to bed. But wanted to post at least this.
I will likely post a full account of my day but need some time. Tomorrow will be another hell day from work and then I will have the weekend to decompress some.
Will end that at least 99.5% of the people there were great people, real Americans. Not the "violent protesters" that the MSM are portraying us as. And people on this board should not judge those that were there and got caught up in the moment by entering the Capitol and making some noise.
Aside from the horrible outcome and Pence's betrayal, it was an incredible day. Trump started a movement and this is only the beginning.
That’s probably because it came from an untrusted source and hasn’t been verified.
Kind of vaguely looks like Shifty Schiff. Or a bunch of other guys with receding hairlines.
Too short. Including his neck.
Thanks for YOUR report, too. Looking forward, if a bit grimly, for your longer version.
a lie can travel halfway around the world while the truth is putting on its shoes
still rings correctly; especially in this day of INSTANT 'news' on the web.
How many times have the first reports of ANY major event turned out to be incorrect after all the data is slowly assembled and studied?
Like a stampeding herd; way too many of us are caught up in a rush to judgment.
Party ownership of the print media
made it easy to manipulate public opinion,
and the film and radio carried the process further.
....... The Ministry of Truth, Winston's place of work, contained, it was said, three thousand rooms above ground level, and corresponding ramifications below. The Ministry of Truth concerned itself with Lies. Party ownership of the print media made it easy to manipulate public opinion, and the film and radio carried the process further. The primary job of the Ministry of Truth was to supply the citizens of Oceania with newspapers, films, textbooks, telescreen programmes, plays, novels - with every conceivable kind of information, instruction, or entertainment, from a statue to a slogan, from a lyric poem to a biological treatise, and from a child's spelling-book to a Newspeak dictionary. Winston worked in the RECORDS DEPARTMENT (a single branch of the Ministry of Truth) editing and writing for The Times. He dictated into a machine called a speakwrite. Winston would receive articles or news-items which for one reason or another it was thought necessary to alter, or, in Newspeak, rectify. If, for example, the Ministry of Plenty forecast a surplus, and in reality the result was grossly less, Winston's job was to change previous versions so the old version would agree with the new one. This process of continuous alteration was applied not only to newspapers, but to books, periodicals, pamphlets, posters, leaflets, films, sound-tracks, cartoons, photographs - to every kind of literature or documentation which might conceivably hold any political or ideological significance. When his day's work started, Winston pulled the speakwrite towards him, blew the dust from its mouthpiece, and put on his spectacles. He dialed 'back numbers' on the telescreen and called for the appropriate issues of The Times, which slid out of the pneumatic tube after only a few minutes' delay. The messages he had received referred to articles or news-items which for one reason or another it was thought necessary to rectify. In the walls of the cubicle there were three orifices. To the right of the speakwrite, a small pneumatic tube for written messages; to the left, a larger one for newspapers; and on the side wall, within easy reach of Winston's arm, a large oblong slit protected by a wire grating. This last was for the disposal of waste paper. Similar slits existed in thousands or tens of thousands throughout the building, not only in every room but at short intervals in every corridor. For some reason they were nicknamed memory holes. When one knew that any document was due for destruction, or even when one saw a scrap of waste paper lying about, it was an automatic action to lift the flap of the nearest memory hole and drop it in, whereupon it would be whirled away on a current of warm air to the enormous furnaces which were hidden somewhere in the recesses of the building. As soon as Winston had dealt with each of the messages, he clipped his speakwritten corrections to the appropriate copy of The Times and pushed them into the pneumatic tube. Then, with a movement which was as nearly as possible unconscious, he crumpled up the original message and any notes that he himself had made, and dropped them into the memory hole to be devoured by the flames. What happened in the unseen labyrinth to which the tubes led, he did not know in detail, but he did know in general terms. As soon as all the corrections which happened to be necessary in any particular number of The Times had been assembled and collated, that number would be reprinted, the original copy destroyed, and the corrected copy placed on the files in its stead. In the cubicle next to him the little woman with sandy hair toiled day in day out, simply at tracking down and deleting from the Press the names of people who had been vaporized and were therefore considered never to have existed. And this hall, with its fifty workers or thereabouts, was only one-sub-section, a single cell, as it were, in the huge complexity of the Records Department. Beyond, above, below, were other swarms of workers engaged in an unimaginable multitude of jobs. There were huge printing-shops and their sub editors, their typography experts, and their elaborately equipped studios for the faking of photographs. There was the tele-programmes section with its engineers, its producers and its teams of actors specially chosen for their skill in imitating voices; clerks whose job was simply to draw up lists of books and periodicals which were due for recall; vast repositories where the corrected documents were stored; and the hidden furnaces where the original copies were destroyed. And somewhere or other, quite anonymous, there were the directing brains who co-ordinated the whole effort and laid down the lines of policy which made it necessary that this fragment of the past should be preserved, that one falsified, and the other rubbed out of existence. |
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