15 years a slave.

15 years a slave.

chains

Bill and Melinda Gates have just published their new plans for the poor of the world. They plan to give mobile phones to them and turn Africa (and other parts) into a digital money society. “Mobile banking will help the poor transform their lives,” they claimed in their annual letter. The plan will take fifteen years.

“..in the next 15 years digital banking will give the poor more control over their assets..”  Ha! As if!

Anybody in the developed world will be able to decipher that statement as “…in the next 15 years digital banking will give the banks more control over the poor’s assets..”

They go on to say “The key to this will be mobile phones….by 2030, 2 billion people who don’t have a bank account today will be storing money and making payment with their phones.”

I will leave a link to The letter below in which they map out other plans for the poor people, including better education software, hardier crops, more efficient fertilizer (ahem) and new vaccines.

I genuinely want to feel optimistic for the poor but I’m just not feeling it. What I am feeling is “the system” will enslave even more people thanks to this plan. This little blog post will do nothing to stop the madness that is about to flood the third world. While lots of us are trying to unplug from the system and get back to basics it can be hard to accept that others don’t see things our way. We mustn’t stand in the way of progress, old boy! But soon, fifteen years to be exact, there won’t be a corner of the globe left untouched by the globalist psychopaths with their vision for a brave new world.

At the end of The Letter the Gates Foundation asks for our approval by signing up to become a member of the ‘Global Citizen’ club. Y’know, it is starting to look like this New World Order fantasy that the elite used to dream about and the Bible used to warn about is actually starting to click together only I always imagined we would have to be dragged kicking and screaming into it rather than willingly signing up.

In a television interview on MSNBC Melinda Gates, with a straight face, told the viewers “..those people will be able to save tiny amounts of money…they’re not welcome in the banks, but when they’re out on the farm they can save a dollar a day or two dollars a day on their phone..”

So the banks don’t want to meet the poor but they want their dollar via digital transfer? It reminds me of the bank scene in Mary Poppins where the bank owners went through hell to get a young lad to hand over tuppence (two pence).

Once again the serpent sinks its fangs. It truly saddens me to see Africans and other decent people being sold yet again into slavery. Nothing is sacred or off-limits, it seems.

Thank you for reading

Frankie.

The letter – http://www.gatesnotes.com/2015-Annual-Letter?page=0&lang=en

Dread du jour

Gradually catching up on all the blog posts I missed, while away. This post from Eric is essential reading. He says what I would like to say, only he does it with eloquence and perfection.

Eric Tonningsen's Awakening to Awareness

3291312140_078c833b7d_m“Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important.” ~ Ambrose Redmoon

I went online today to do some research. I figured mainstream news feeds might have the data I sought. What an ugly mistake. For readers unaware, I don’t watch television/cable, nor do I read newspapers or magazines. And my online experience today reaffirmed why I do not.

I quickly scanned several well-known sources and 37 out of 39 articles (yes, I counted) featured stories about doom and gloom. The ‘hit parade’ included headlines screaming about:

  • Ebola
  • terrorism
  • climate change
  • social injustices
  • illegal immigration
  • police brutality
  • political propaganda
  • economic demise
  • inadequate militaries
  • religious superiority
  • murders, deaths, out of control crime
  • extremists everything

Not a single positive, feel good or constructive story. Just fear and demise.

2137382661_7f43df918a_mBewildered, I asked myself, “Is this really what we have let ourselves become?” “Have we given in…

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For the day that’s in it.

For the day that’s in it.

PICT0550

That is an actual piece of The Berlin Wall. It sits on my mantelpiece at home and reminds me that things can change and things do change. No matter what the politicians and media tell us, anybody who witnessed the wall being toppled will testify to the power of people.

Ordinary, everyday people like you and I toppled that wall. Not politicians, not armies, not rock stars…just ordinary humble folk who collectively said “Enough is enough!”

“The truth will set you free.” Jesus Christ said those words long before Jimi Hendrix. Not everybody knows that. The media doesn’t want you to know that either.

In Ireland at the moment there is a peaceful revolution taking place. We, the people, have endured six years of austerity measures. Big taxes on this and that and everything. Recently our government decided to privatise our water and charge us ridiculous prices for the pleasure of having water come from a tap.

But this time the people have had enough. One by one we started to get off our knees and rise up. Marches were organised. Social media was used to spread the word. I put my shoulder to the wheel by getting onto the local radio shows to spread the news to the non-internet folk. The country started to awaken, one by one.

Last Saturday, the largest, most peaceful march in the history of our country took place. 150,000 people pulled on their overcoats and went outside in God’s free rainfall and marched shoulder to shoulder in defiance of the latest tax. Some marched for anti-privatisation of our water and others marched simply because they had nothing left to give. The cuts had taken their toll on the people.

One placard I saw carried the slogan “The only thing left to cut…is our throats.”

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The following day there was one newspaper in particular which caught my eye. It showed a cartoon scene of a riot taking place with the heading “Open revolt.” It caught my eye because the cartoon scene was an attempt by the newspaper to discredit the folks who marched the previous day. There was no violent scene to show, so they invented one. I bought the paper and kept it safe.

Fast forward to the following Friday (two days ago). In a last ditch attempt to give all who were opposed to extra water taxes and water meter installations a bad name, the daily newspaper had an actual photo of a riot on its front cover. In tiny print below, the caption mentioned that the photo was from Brussels. But IN LARGE PRINT was the headline “Water meter works cancelled” along with a story that people had started to get violent with the men installing water meters.

The mission of those two front pages was clear to me.; to discredit anybody who didn’t say ‘yes’ to the government’s water agenda. Lots of folk don’t read newspapers but lots of folk will catch a glimpse of the front pages on their way past newspaper stands. The subconscious will fill in the blanks. This is the oldest trick in the media book.

I called it! I had enough of this carry on. I called it on Friday on social media. On Saturday a few folks ran with my theory. One guy uploaded a video about it. Another did a breakdown of the front page to dumb it down for easy learning. They didn’t credit me in their work but it’s not the end of the world. The ego is the invention of the devil…(evil laugh).

Last night the video had gone viral. The other guy’s post had done the same. But I see this morning that his post was removed. “They” haven’t removed my photo because my photo and my theory belong to me. Just like the theories of the newspapers.

The cat is out of the bag. Just like 25 years ago when the first few ordinary, everyday folk made it to the other side….the tsunami of people and people power followed. I reckon this date is reserved by God for God’s people, and God’s gifts of freedom and His natural resources.

“The truth will set you free” – He wasn’t lying after all.

Power to the people! Walls will tumble again.

Thank you for reading

Frankie.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/let-it-be/

Getting the priorities in order.

Getting the priorities in order.

It’s like deja vu. I have too many irons in the fire…again. So I intend to take a break for a while. Gotta get my priorities in order.

If, in the meantime, I think of something that will change the world, you guys will be first to hear about it.

My blog has made it, by some mistake, to the short list of the ‘best humour blogs’ in Ireland. I haven’t worn my funny cap in months. Strange. Best of luck to the remaining participants.

On the car journey home from work today, my workmate and myself were listening to the news on the radio. He had lived across the pond, in Boston, for a few years. He has fond memories of the States, some of which he retells to me on our journeys home.

But today on the radio the newsreader told the heartbreaking tale of a young girl who accidentally shot her gun instructor…with an Uzi !! That’s a submachine gun. It ‘sprays’ bullets.

I will pray that the girl will fully recover from the eyewitness shock of what a gun actually does. The poor girl. May God watch over her.

“…the girl was nine years old,” finished the newsreader.

With that, my workmate starts nodding and goes “And they can’t order a beer until they’re 21.”

Then silence in the car…except for the weather on the radio.

Thank you for reading

Frankie.

 

 

 

The Daddy!

I touched one for the first time last Saturday. My hand trembled as I stroked her. I had waited a long time for this moment.

You must understand that throughout my boyhood I had only ever seen one in the centre-fold of a magazine. But no glossy picture in an 80’s magazine could have prepared me for her beauty, in the flesh. She was, she is, gorgeous!

You’ve guessed it. I am talking about the ‘Audi Sport Quattro – short wheel base’. The daddy of d’Audi.

The face of beauty

The face of beauty

..and the behind...phwoarr!

..and the behind…phwoarr!

 

God’s gift to car enthusiasts. Only 214 were ever made. 175 were sold to the public. The rest were converted to rally cars or used for test purposes.

Audi already had the longer wheel base Quattro in production for a few years and these were also very successful in rally format. But zee german auto company vanted to build zee ‘ultimate’ rally car. The rally rules stated that a car had to have a production run of at least 200 vehicles before it could be used for competition. Hence the 214.

I will leave it that. I am a bit of an anorak on 80’s  Audi and VW cars. I have owned lots of those brands in years gone by. I even went though a period of rally driving also. She was a little Mk 1 golf. Good memories. Back when I had some money. Back before the children needed trivial things like…I don’t know…shoes and food.

Hello children, goodbye rally car.

Hello children, goodbye rally car.

So anyway last Saturday I came face to face with both a road version and a rally version of the delicious ‘Sport Quattro SWB’ at a car show.

Suspicious looking spouse.

Suspicious looking spouse.

“Dear Santa, I have been a good boy. There is just one thing I would like…”  Joking aside, it was nice to meet my dream car in person. I think we all have one, or used to, at one time.

I have included a short video clip of an Audi in action during the golden years of rally, when men were men and tyres were cheap.

It should have been me in that video…if it hadn’t been for those meddling kids!

Thank you for reading

Frankie.

 

Sometimes.

A while back the Daily Prompt on WordPress asked me if there was something in my collection that I would like to read again. At the time I didn’t respond to the prompt. Sometimes I find it hard to make choices. That was one of those times.

Then last week I recalled a book that left a lasting impact on me. Whenever I hear about kidnappings and hostages I think of a man called Brian Keenan. A Belfast man who went to Beirut for a change of scenery, in 1985. Bad decision. He was kidnapped and held hostage for four and a half years! That’s a long time. Most of that time in darkened solitary confinement, or what the prison movies call The hole.

It’s not a book about politics. It is a testimony to willpower. In the book, the reader is not only in the cell, the reader is allowed inside his head. My brief review doesn’t do justice to this book, but in this age with the ‘Power of positive thoughts’ being all the rage, Brian Keenan’s book ‘An evil cradling’ blows everything else away when it comes to coping with circumstances. He has walked the walk, albeit within the confines of a tiny cell.

I will read it again.

PICT0425 PICT0427

 

Getting back to today’s Daily Prompt. It asks..If I was given a robot, which task would I use it for?

I sometimes feel pity for the executioners. Not the type who would video record an execution for the torment of a victim’s family! But the traditional executioner down through history. A judge and jury call the shots but the buck always stops with him.

I try to imagine what it must be like for him, when he is alone at night with his thoughts. He can’t explain his actions away with terms like ‘self defence’. It is an unnecessary kill. I feel sorry for him sometimes.

In Ireland last week the abortion debate has started again. I have never been in that situation so I am not qualified to judge. But there is one issue which really upsets me. Suicide risk of the pregnant female is often given as being reasonable grounds for granting an abortion.

My question is this… What about the doctor? What if, after a few abortions, he breaks down? What if he becomes suicidal?

It’s very easy to be judge and jury. Being executioner is a different kettle of fish altogether.

In Poland last month a doctor was sacked for refusing to conduct an abortion. His conscience wouldn’t allow him to go through with it. But the law cares nothing of one’s personal conscience. You can read about it here  http://www.lifesitenews.com/news/leading-polish-pro-life-ob-gyn-sacked-fined-for-refusing-abortion-says-it-w

Any of my regular readers (Hi Mom) will know that I have a strong dislike for leaders who command whole armies from the comfort of an office. No blood on his / her hands!

I suppose what I am trying to say is that perhaps it is good to put ourselves in the shoes of those holding the syringe or whatever instrument they use. I feel sorry for those people, sometimes. They aren’t robots.

Thank you for reading

Frankie.

In response to http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/you-robot/  and  http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/off-the-shelf/

 

The love shack.

Apart from myself there have been approximately a half-dozen others who have seen my wife naked. Worse yet, we all live in the same town!

Still, time is the great healer. It doesn’t bother me so much now. It doesn’t bother her in the slightest.

We were a young couple. Newly married. Twenty-two years a piece. Mad for each other.

For the first two years of marriage we rented a small house while we saved for the deposit on our current home. It was a perfect little love nest. I have photos somewhere but I found this one online. You can see the cottage and its proximity to the beach.

The love shack, baby!

The love shack, baby!

The cottage is very old, in fact there was a ghost which used to whisper at times. True! But that didn’t bother us because we were too busy with each other, you know, exorcising our inhibitions.

Then one day…Crash!…Splash! The water tank in the attic gave up its own ghost. It was one of the older galvanised tanks, unlike the newer plastic versions. Anyway, it had rusted through, dumping its load. The ceiling gave way and drenched all below. Nether of us were in at the time and it wasn’t until hours later when we arrived back from work that we made the discovery.

The cottage owner was very helpful. He gave us the keys to another, more modern, holiday chalet in the neighbourhood while he got the old cottage fixed up.

On the Saturday night we went out with friends for a few beers and a spot of dancing. Bear in mind we were still young.

Upon returning, nature took its course. Just like the movies there was a trail of clothing from the front door to the bedroom door. Enough said.

The next morning we just lay there recalling how much fun we’d had with our friends at the disco. Well we laughed and snuggled and chatted until I could hold it no longer. I had one in the barrel and it was high time to let it go.

So up I get and scurry to the bedroom door in a panic. I reached for the doorknob and it came off in my hand! This was bad!! The door was hinged to open inwards. I tried refitting and turning it slowly but it was no use; the door was a very tight fit in the door frame, maybe because the house was rarely occupied.

Needless to say my wife was in stitches. No compassion there. Not even a waste paper basket in the room. Yes, if there had been I would have went in it. Image is nothing, in a situation like this!

Her laughing slowed when she realised that all our clothes were on the other side of the door. Her laughing stopped when she had to wriggle out the window. I didn’t give her time to mull it over. By now, I was in countdown mode. The idea was that she would enter through the front door and, once inside, open the bedroom door from the inside. Good job it was a bungalow.

But then. “Look Daddy, look! That woman has a bare bum.”

I stuck my head out the window. There was a family next door having breakfast outside. Lovely! Both parents and the two children stared as my wife picked herself up and ran off around the side of the house. Not only that but there was a couple out walking their spotted dalmatians who had also stopped to feast their eyes. Being totally honest, at that moment, I didn’t care what they thought. I just needed to go, so so badly.

It came to pass, the plan worked. The relief was Biblical!

A day or two later we were back in the Love Shack. A week or two later, the townsfolk found someone else’s wife to talk about.

The first thing I did when we bought our own house…I planted a hedge. Because as we all know, those who forget their history are destined to repeat it.

Thank you for reading

Frankie.