Posted on 11/30/2015 9:36:19 PM PST by TigerClaws
September 14, 2001 -- IT was predictable. The sad sacks at the BBC were sure that if only President Bush had done more to curb Arab-Israeli tensions, the World Trade Center attacks might have been avoided.
** Here in New York, it was easy to get angry listening to Egyptians, Palestinians and the Arabs of nearby Paterson, N.J., celebrate as they received word of the murderous attacks in New York and Washington. But Mayor Giuliani (who has been tireless and magnificent in this crisis) rightly warned New York- ers that it would be wrong to take their anger out on the city's Arab and Muslim residents. Attacks on Arab-Americans in Paterson or elsewhere are utterly indefensible.
(Excerpt) Read more at web.archive.org ...
When Obama was campaigning I saw him as Nicolae Carpathia.
The new play is to control search engines.But don't worry about GOOGLE, they self police...You know like the Iranians and the Iranian/Obama/Cruz nuclear deal.
This was of evil forces beyond mankind. The bible says they (it) come to kill, steal, and destroy.
The results are tragic, whether they are through “members of radical Islam” or whether they are through you and me. Maybe we don’t give ourselves to building-bombing jihad. But we hate other things that God has made even if they haven’t yet knocked down any buildings.
God would want us to give the likes of ISIS at least a reason to believe that there really is a Christ. A God to be feared with great trembling, certainly; but also a God to love and to inspire us to share love around the world.
On a military level this would be known as inducing the enemy to defect.
Only the actual Christ can thread this tricky needle. We can’t; secular liberals can’t. We must never excuse. But we must always make clear what the real God is like, and that this fake Allah is a spiritual con game from start to finish.
But if we take eyes off world long enough to look at the supernatural realms of God, we will find a guidance that not even Google can censor.
If you get really deep into it, and no it doesn’t mean you have to be some caricature of a churchman who’s always spouting moralism, but only that you care about the supernatural dimension enough to seek God’s heart wherever you go, you will start to see things that amaze. Things the world would call coincidence. But that God calls angels.
Although to keep things honest, God also will let you see other things that God calls devils. They can’t beat God, but they can harass from time to time, only eventually to be repulsed and you find your spiritual spine a little stronger after the battle.
http://www.americandownunder.com/phantom/ar/1111/wtc_coinc.asp
I remember it as well. In fact — I saved all the newspapers from those days following 9/11, and I bought the NY Post back then — I probably have those stories archived.
Video: Fmr. NYC Mayor Rudy Giuliani reacts to @realDonaldTrump 9/11 claims: “We did have some celebrating, that is true.” http://cnn.it/1Rj22qg
The Dems had the story, which is why they were careful not to go after Trump too hard on it. They left it to the media and IDIOT Republicans to do their dirty work.
Why is that obvious?
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. |
You are altogether different from most of us.
I admire that. And have immense respect for you
I do not have the strong faith you have.
I want revenge and death. I went ALL jihadis crushed.
My family’s lives are worth a million muslim lives.
i know it’s wrong. I’ll go to confession after they are all dead.
Well you have outlined your own choice.
Bow before self & pride. Or even if it takes herculean effort, bow before God.
I know Who built this creation, at any rate, and it wasn’t me. And I know there’s even reward to be had for doing it God’s way.
I hate to sound so callous anyhow, but what is any life worth. Only what God deems it at.
God has a plan that is higher than the rest of us, and that plan also has certain promised characteristics. I’ve been a hard sell on some of it, but God has never stood me up in the end.
We have chosen separate ways.
I KNOW you will stay true to yourself and God, and that is good.
I doubt I will change.
It is what it is.
Think of it... it is aping that plan of the real God that gives Islam even as much traction as it gets. They say if you fight for Him and die, you get rewarded. The rewards may sound crass (and they are, rightfully so, in Christian ears), but they are present. I wish Christendom was that bold today. Can hell make a promise that heaven can’t beat?
You can self-determine your separate way, but that sends you to Satan, who in turn is sent to hell.
However “it is what it is” is a blasphemy to God. He is the only “I am what I am.” Everything else is subject to His molding hand.
I know the choice I made. I want them dead. I dont care if they get to hear the word of God or not.
I know the path that sets me on.
We all go on the paths we’ve chosen. Even if it lands us in hell.
Anyhow the right thing to do in such a situation is to ask God to show you why it would be worth letting Him change you. And then be willing to hear out the answer. We all can ask to be molded to the ill or the good.
Now if this is all academic of course it won’t go anywhere. But if it’s not, then this is another way of proving out God. For my part, what I bear witness to is that the Lord is not unsympathetic to us being behind our various eight balls. But He won’t excuse us hiding there forever. We get to be the kind of people we want to be.
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