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"A Believers' View"

“A Believers’ View”

Gregory V. Boulware

“My Vengeance Needs Blood”
~Marquis de Sade~

I did not convey all that should have been…needed to be told regarding the old gentleman’s organs beneath the floor. The brief allusion as to what transpired according to one author who reported me as being so stupid a “tattle-tale,” that I’d spilled my guts to the gendarmes.

Ha…what a laugh! The misguided scribe had very little to report, as did Mr. Poe, who mentioned something about a heart thumping underfoot in the old man’s house. The first writer, as mentioned quoted:

“A knock came upon the door… Two men, plainly dressed in tie and coat, accompanied by two in uniform appeared. My eye peered at them through the semi-opened door. I opened it just a crack, as I did not wish for them to hear the pounding beneath the floor.

The pounding noise would not stop. I had to find a way to make it stop. Don’t you understand? It had to stop. It began to pound loudly. It was too loud…very Loud! Do you not hear it? It’s driving me mad, mad I tell you! Through the crack in the floor, the orb peered out at me.

It was fixated upon me! It glared at me all the time. I could not look on it any longer… I had to make it go away. Even if I had to pluck it out of the head of the old man while he sat in the rocking chair. That is why I had to put him and that vultures’ eye under the floor. There wasn’t time enough to dispose of him and it properly. It wasn’t his fault that the evil eye stared at me. It would not be able to gaze on me if it was under the floor out of sight.”

Hah…that’s what the author put in his collection of stories and reports. He didn’t know the half of it. Allow me to complete his rendition before I trust you with further details.

“Readers can visualize the gruesomeness of the pale blue orb, described as a ‘vulture’s eye;’ the evil eye covered by a thin film like that of a fish. It was terribly nasty to look at. In a frenzied dismemberment of the old man’s body, I was preparing to dispose of it and the f…… heart that I kept hearing beat beneath the damnable boards of the floor. I was a vile individual who had every reason to believe that I could make and escape of paying the price for taking the life of an innocent soul.”

The truth is he was not as completely innocent as some would have you think…

I laugh to think I was brought here by my father along with the family from the cold dark and dank alleyways of ‘Edinburgh.’ To think my life so bad that we had to move away to another town filled to the gullet with more cold dark and dank alleyways. Some call the eerie traverse-ways as bastions of hell’s corridors. These causeways are the birth canals of the butchering ‘Ripper.’

My course throughout has lead me astray due to the raptures and starving readiness of servitude. A short stay in ‘Her Majesty’s Royal Navy did me no good either. After cutting a man’s throat from ear to ear, they tossed me in the bloody brig intent on making a date with the gallows’ hangman who was in competition with the axman.

My tale of woe and contempt began there, at home, and continued to escalate while I was sitting and stuffing my belly full of mutton, gruel, and a tawny red port. When that was done, a nice bottle of claret did suffice. The cognac was a bit tasty indeed. Down on my luck, I hadn’t two copper coins to rub together. I needed work. I needed a place to lay my head. I had to eat. When was it last that I’d eaten? Two days ago, maybe three… I can’t quite remember.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned. The mustached and bearded man smiled at me while pouring a glass of claret. He shoved the goblet under my nose. Its bountiful aroma was unbearable. I had to taste, to drink of it, to swallow it. I downed half of the goblet’s content. Through the stupor of my drunken gaze, I turned once again. I wanted to thank the smiling stranger. He accordingly nodded and poured once more.

“I do understand good sir, that you are in need of gainful employment and boarding am I correct?”

I dizzily nodded in agreement and emptied the chalice again. The alcohol laden beverage really had a firm grip on my vision… It played with it gaily and freely. The room did appear to be moving in a dizzying circle of brilliant lights, and dulling dark grey from the floor to the ceiling and back again. The smiling man was mouthing something. I couldn’t make it out. His eyes seemed to flash a reddish hue to one of brilliance and an awe of menace. He appeared cheerfully adept at gaining and commandeering one’s confidence. His smile began to cause me worry and threatened concern. Yes, even through the thick veil of a drunken stupor that has engulfed me. His smile seemed to change from one of comfort to that of a sinister and frightful sneer and gloat. Now, correct me if my recollections are incorrect…did I mention his smile? Oh yes, I did. He made a few gestures at two men sitting in the back of the pub…I think.

They gulped down their grog and responded to his beckoning. The candle and lantern lit room continued to dance and play verily with applauded merriment. I could almost swear I heard the inn keeper’s deep-throated spittle-juiced voice raising a fuss. I wasn’t really sure; I thought I heard him say to his barroom lackeys, “Get the bastard out – take him if you will – we have no need of a drunken penniless vagrant – get him the hell out!”

I don’t believe the smiling man was in cahoots with the innkeeper of whom he held an acquaintance. But he did not hesitate to succumb to the owner’s request.

Someone said that I went mad. They said that I went stark raving mad when they tried to lift and remove me. They said I screamed and screamed, “Don’t let the devil take me – don’t let him get me! Please save me…! Did I truly gaze upon the face of Lucifer?

They all gave assistance to the smiling man and his two friends. It was said that they carried me to the coach of black, pulled by four black stallions along the way. It bore, on the coach door, the markings of the rich old man’s family crest who resided up above on yonder hill.

No one remained in his employ for long…not longer than three or four months; a fortnight at the least. No female, single or no, would ever venture up there. They preferred to remain in the safety of here, down here under the auspices of the castle-like mansion up yonder, overlooking ‘Putney Hill,’ just outside of London Town.

I awoke on a cot in the back of a warm fire lit kitchen. My head did ache and was complimented with waves of nausea. I felt as though I were going mad.

There was a tall thin yet ghastly man named Cyrus. He was the old man’s man-servant. I couldn’t tell who was more the ancient between the two.

The rotund woman with a face of stone appeared. She attended to kitchen chores and food preparations. She never looked me square in the eye. When she saw that I had stirred and stumbled to the table, she placed in front of me, a bowl of hot gruel. It was hot and steamy but smelled to high heaven. The stench caused me to heave and turn from sight. The cook woman continued her chores of meal preparation. She busied herself by skinning and chopping into pieces, a rather large and slick slimy black skinned eel. She did this while the wiggling writhing thing remained alive.

I was then directed to a wash area just outside. It entertained a rather larger than normal bathtub. It wasn’t for me to use. It was used by frequent and privileged members of the household. That was when the house was filled with life and children. The estate employees rarely took baths if at all. The belief in body protection was the law of the land. It kept the vermin off and the germs out of the pores. The household help was mainly hired from the villages close and near the mansion some called a castle. It had a mote and bulwarks for defense and battle. This house was reported to have been full of activity and visitors constantly coming and going to and fro. Today, it is like that of a tomb.

The old man was all that was left of a great and bountiful family. Myth has it they were all killed off by poisonings and other feats of jealousy over the family fortune as opposed to its posterity.

Once finished with the forced washing from the wooden bucket in the barn near the horse stables, I was directed by the tall man servant as to what my duties would be. Most of the chores that where assigned was to be on the grounds area around barn, garden, and outside of the building. Several other duties were in and around the kitchen, basement, and occasionally hauling furnishings and supplies upstairs. In certain areas in the interior of the estate were not without the strictest supervision and or under direct orders. I was not to go anywhere in the house without the watchful eye of the tall man servant or the stone faced cook. I would soon violate that directive. Someone told me the old man kept his moneybox in his room; under his bed. It was said to be full of nothing but golden coins of immense value and worth. If that was so, it would not be long before I too, would be a rich man.

In my mind’s eye, I could see the smiling man smiling at me – that wry slick sinister grin of a smile.

I pondered over whether I needed a partner or not. Did I truly need assistance in removing the servants from the house? The brew I was drinking ran low and warm. I summoned for another. My current wages of more than two months now, have allowed the purchase of a few luxuries. I haven’t had the privilege of having the ability to afford such things. I wasn’t able to do this since my last sailing vessel. My God, it seemed like ages ago.

The fat cook and the damned tall butler had to go. That’s final. The problem was how to get rid of them.

Today, I was to clean the stables. It’s usually done on Saturday morning, but since there was to be a wake on Sunday afternoon into the late evening, some chores were postponed while others simply cast off. The master would not be alone until Sunday afternoon into Monday early morning.

My plan was now laid before me. Sunday afternoon into early morning was my free and personal time. The only other free time was after dinner through the week for two or three hours. Even then, I could be located by the staff should I be needed for anything the master might require of me. On occasion, I’ve had to hitch the team of horses to the wagon or buggy and fetch the doctor who resides about 20 kilometers to the north.

On a bright crisp and chipper Sunday morning, birds and squirrels made adequate noises that aroused and soothed the senses. The trees were riffled thoroughly by the strong brisk wind. The boughs reached for the bright yellow sun that teased the tulips and bade them to open lovingly to the warmth. And I, oh yes, I listened intently to the preacher’s sermon. I had to stick very close to the master this morning. No one noticed that the butler or the maid were not in attendance, save one.

The wake of the old man’s cousin, a last remaining blood relative that was to be buried after this morning’s church service, went off without a hitch.

I aided the tall manservant in bringing food and refreshments to the guests. The cook-maid-housekeeper also utilized my services for the betterment and saving of expenses. Having me double-up on my duties and foregoing my free time after dinner in order to serve them. How dare they assume such a position as to make me their servant. Dog am I? I’ll fix them… They shall soon see who the servant is and who the master is. Oh yes, they shall soon see…

The last dinner guest stumbled out of the door a little past one on Sunday morning. I had nodded off in the driver’s seat of the cold and wet carriage. The coal black stallions waited impatiently for nearly an hour. They stamped and pranced, snorted, and grunted in the watery darkness. They desired to complete their mission, their assignment to deliver and or retrieve the passenger and return to the warm hey matted stalls of the barn. They, like I, desired sleep. But, they and I still had work to do.

It was just past three when I arrived back at the mansion. The team of stallions were happily bedded down for the remainder of the night. It was about four a.m. when I started for the inside of the house. I’d decided to call off the plan for now. I was too tired and sleepy. Besides, I still hadn’t decided if I needed help or not. After all, the tall manservant was indeed a formidable foe. The rotund cook woman was not to be trifled with either. With her brooms, sticks, pots, and cutlery…she could easily stretch a man upon yon table in preparation for dissection. On there, she would be able to skin him and chop him like that of the massive live eel that perished not so long ago.

Upon placing my boot soles upon the mud scrapper, the door of the back kitchen violently flew open inwardly. The tall man was standing there snarling at me.

“Where in the f… have ye been, Monkey-boy? Aye, ye must’ve been sloshing at the pub, getting drunk and shirking your duties, I’d say!” The spit form his verbiage splattered about my face and chest. The ponderage of contempt that I was entertaining toward him suddenly leaped into a full blown rage. I struck him with my right fist and then with my left. I hit him once more with my left for good measure. Before he could bring himself from the floor, I’d already stuck him in the ‘Adams’ Apple’ with my ‘Jim Bowie Knife.’ He bled like a butchered stuck pig. He made not a sound. He made not a sound because he could not. He made an attempt to scream to no avail. The shocked and bewildered look on his dead face lost all semblances of color and life. His eyes were frozen and stuck wide open. I left him that way.

The fat lady screamed and cried in fright. I really did expect her to put up a fight. I mean, her constant boasting and order barking was enough to make a grown man sit up and take notice. However, she did not fight or retaliate. She simply turned to run. She screamed and cried in fright, turned and ran. Her round plump figure did not waddle as she usually did when traversing room to room. She quickly and smoothly floated over the floor as if on wheels or that of a cloud. It did her no good though.

My aim was good and true as my throw. My blood laden blade stuck firmly in her back. The plopping noise made by her plop to the floor was loud and thunderous. She was trapped between the stove and cutting counter. She kicked and screamed in an attempt to get up. Her efforts availed her not. Her struggle was fruitless.

She bled practically all over the place. The bleeding was even more intense when I removed my ‘Bowie Knife’ from her severed spine. The kicking and moving ceased. Stepping around to face her, I squatted down on the floor to get a real good look. Her eyes were moving. She was looking for me, at me. The inquiring look of why was communicated through tear filled eyes.

I decided to explain things to her. After all, I feel that I owe her that much, especially after all that barking, shouting, and ordering me about.

“Well ya see, Ms. Lizzie, you all thought you was better than me. Ya thought you all had it made… But you didn’t! Now who’s the one doing the bowing and scraping? Who’s the one pleading and begging for help? It’s you bitch!

Now that the f…… slimy and smelly old man is going to pay me big time and neither of you can stop me. All them times ya’ll sent me up there to that stinking room to fetch his piss and shit…hell, it was bad enough that I had to eat, sleep, and take a shit with the animals in the barn. And you made me wash his stinking ass when I couldn’t wash mine! He got to use that great big tub full of hot water while giving me a bucket of cold. Now just how do you think that made me feel? A do give ya’ll credit for looking after me when I first got here. I really did appreciate it. You should have kept up with being nice to me. I would have cut you both in on the take, but all ya’ll wanted to do was serve and protect that bastard old man. Well now I’ll get it all while you and the tall man eat shit. I’ve been meaning to tell you about that wretched dog’s eyes! I hated to look at the damned things – they are the ugliest and most horrible eyeballs I had ever seen, the one on the left in particular. But now, I don’t have to look at them slimy orbs any longer. I’m going to pluck the f…… things out! First, that large pale blue film covered vultures’ eye with the snot-like slime all around it. Then there is that other grey looking droopy laden thing on the other side of his hideously bumped and pickled face. I’m going to remove those things so that they see no more. Then I’ll recover my fortune and depart this accursed wicked place.

Now, to put you out of your misery… Your spinal cord is severed. Therefore, you are probably not feeling any pain, yes?”

What a shame…that pleading look in the cook’s eyes changed from one of tearful inquisition to that of full blown dread…of terror and horror. I felt exhilaratingly exuberant excitement with the thought of them finding her butchered corpse on the cutting table and severed head in the kitchen sink.

The smiling man was leaning against a large maple tree when they arrived at the church this morning. He smiled at the old man and winked and pointed a gnarled and rotted finger at me. We continued on into the building.

The butler’s body was taken out and dumped in the hay-baling machine… It was easily chewed and spit out into a reddened bale of hey at the end of the thumping and crunching cycle. They came out in a group of four bales before the reddening ceased coloring the golden colored hay. I stacked them in a nice neat stack beneath the correctly colored ones. They could not be seen without moving the stack. In time, the worms and night crawling vermin will devour the blood stained bails. If not, the horses will.

I made up my mind to clean up when I returned from the old man’s room. I’ve decided what I needed to do with the old man before I’d pack to leave. First, I must find the money box.

Oh, how awful the smell is. The air within the old man’s bed chamber is putrid. How in hell does he breathe in here? I choke and gag every time I’ve had to come in here. Thankfully, the scarce times have been few. The room, the very air itself has the aroma of death and disease. The horrible menace of ‘Prince Prospero and the Red and Black Death which weighed in across the land, destroyed more lives than protect. Bodies amassed throughout one nearby kingdom. It, ‘The Red Death,’ appeared at one of the Princes’ guest parties where the participants dressed as animals and crawled about the floor. They apparently had run amok and truly believed they were the things they portrayed. The orgies were of and with one another as well as the real animals that were brought into play. The feast was all the rage. The Prince had his bowman kill the husband of one of the women he had bedded at an earlier party held within the castle. The bowman shot an arrow into the man from up high on the castle bulwark. The report of killings and mass mutilations spread quickly throughout the kingdom.

I paid particular attention to the vicar’s sermon this morning. He spoke of God’s vengeance upon murderers.

“Behold, there shall be retribution!” He shouted from the pulpit. Then his voice took on a gentle and soothing tone after the thunder. I do believe he was speaking directly to me. The thunder rose again…

“Thou Shalt Not Kill!” Once again, I got that ice-cold chill. I tried in vain not to look up at the preaching holy man. He was looking directly at me. I, in the midst of a battalion of Sunday worshippers, could not help but believe the message within the sermon was directly pointing at me!

“Satan robbed the human race blind when he tempted Adam and Eve in Eden.” Jesus described Satan as a thief whose purpose is “to steal and kill and destroy.”
(John 10:10)

The preacher continued. “Satan is doing this thing, robbing God’s people of the gifts he wants us to have, including our joy, peace, and purpose. Are you ever stumped about what to do or where to go next?” The speaker on the pulpit scanned the room after that question. His eyes bounced to and fro, and then came to rest upon me. I cast my gaze downward.

The vicar continued on with his sermon.

“That confusion is the result of Satan’s work. Before their fall, the only wrong choice, scripture tells us, that Adam and Eve could make was to eat the forbidden fruit. Every other option they had was a good one. But after they sinned, they had all kinds of good and bad choices to make.

The devil is also stealing our financial blessings by tying us up in debt that’s often the result of a greedy desire for more. We get those letters congratulating us on our outstanding credit and offering us another shiny coin that will give us the buying power and financial independence we so richly deserve. But the back end or that deal is financial bondage that could take us years to get out of.

Even more tragically than all of this, the devil is stealing our marriages and our families. We’re told that divorce among Christians has caught up with adultery and lasciviousness. That will never do in a Christian Kingdom of God.

The devil never tells you the deal up front. If a thief with a knife and mask knocked on your front door and asked to come in, what would you do? You’d slam the door and lock it! But thieves don’t do that. They’re deceptive, sneaking into the house when no one is looking. Since Satan is a master deceiver, we need to be on the alert for his approach!”

I felt the messenger’s eyes, once again upon me.

Monday morning came rapidly. It took all night to dispose of the bodies. The barn would have to be set ablaze due to the gore which spilled over the side of the large wash tub. The grass and hay bales failed to mask the spillage.

Hot boiling water and raw soap successfully removed the mess of the cook from the kitchen and pantry. Some stains remained on the upstairs floorboards of the master bedroom. There was also other various spotting underfoot. A nice fresh coat of paint and varnish should take care of that. What to do with the smell? It’s so rank and putrid, maybe lime powder and sulfur would explain the foul odor.

The old man’s body was not as difficult to dispose of as compared to the others… He was small, frail, and puny. They were not. Their parts had to be made smaller. The dispersal was a multi-tasked effort. The tall man was pretty damned heavy for a long and lanky fellow. After removing his limbs and burying those in scattered places for the worms and nocturnal creatures’ dinner treat. I thought of dropping the torso down the abandoned well located about 500 yards from the back of the castle’s kitchen. The new water pump pumped fresh well water right into the kitchen cook area. The hay-baling machine made a nice and neat package for the delivery. The buried parts would take too long to dissolve. I dug those up and added them to the menu of the manual hay-baler as well. This gadget worked wonders on many a farm that could afford to pay to have one built. The skilled farm servants constructed a way to make bales of hay and stalked wheat and barley by way of a compression grinder. It chopped, ground, and packed the coarse produce into square clumps that could be bond with ties, keeping them intact and easy to mobilize and feed to the animals. Only the rich lords of the realm cold afford to have them on their fields and farmlands. The contraption was a mass of turning and churning razor sharp long curved blades on a series of pulleys and wheels. These wheels were turned from the outside handle by the farmhand operating it. It proved to cut and chop a number of things that were recycled and or disposed of right back into the soil.

The cook was prepared in the manner of a fine dining affair. Her parts were carved up like one would carve a slaughtered cow. It was done in such a manner to drive one into believing he had before him a dissection chart like those displayed in butcher shops across the land.

The master of the house was fast asleep. The dark empty night provided ample cover and time to do the dastardly deed. He would prove to be the easiest of the three.

He pulled and yanked upon the bell chord, over and over again. I watched to see what he was doing through the crack of the butlers’ room door and its’ molding. It was to no avail, for he would from now on receive no response from any or either persons, save one…mine!

Flinging open the door between the tall man’s room and that of the master of the house, I stepped in to answer his call.

“You rang sir?” I responded with evil intent and a wicked smile of enthusiasm.

“Where is Cyrus?” he demanded. “As a matter of fact, I haven’t seen him all day –not since last night.” His voice was of an annoying high pitched variety. It squealed in raspy high tones splashing in gurgle. The spray of spittle saturated as he spat forth words of difficult understanding.

He never said a word while we sat through the Sunday sermon. I didn’t have to look upon the wretched fool’s eye through the day. He wore spectacles with darkened lenses. They were of the type that kept out the majority of the light with designed smaller lenses that shaded from the side of the eye. They appeared to be wrapped around the face of the wearer. I’d seen only one pair Manufactured of this type, designed to keep out the light on one other person. I had the misfortune to attend another funeral. It was the ‘Lady Ligeia.’ My crew and I were working the grounds after the fox hunt and the funeral as well. Verdon wore spectacles such as those previously described. They would be a perfect pair of glasses for a blind person who wishes to hide their eyes from curious and prying people.

It was I who brought him his morning gruel, toast, milk, and tea. I also made ready his morning bath. I dressed him and made him ready for church services. It was I who carried him down and out to the ready and waiting carriage.

Upon our return, nary a word was spoken between us, save, “Yes M’ Lord and this way or that M’ Lord, and watch your step M’ Lord.”

All this I did without once having to gaze upon that evil, slimy, and horrible vultures’ eye. As successful as the day’s endeavors, it should, I expect, will end in a finality of fruitfulness. Just as easily as I’ve managed this day, I will end it with the night.

The freshly sharpened knives were at the ready upon my arrival from the pub. Two pints of grog along with an ample amount of rye was all that I needed to re-induce my lust for blood and booty.

Many a time was I warned about mu loose lips and rum indulgences while aboard ship. Many a time did I find myself in the brig or the alley after consumption of spirits and wine. This time was not unlike before when I was shown the street by way of the door. I do not recall speaking of murder and bloodlust, or bounty while sitting with those whom I thought to be friends…kinsmen. Two suited gentlemen sat in a darkened corner of the room. They rarely took away their gazing upon me throughout my rather gay and boisterous visit. I do not believe that I was drunk when my forced departure became relevant.

The muddy sloshy walk home was, it seemed, a bit difficult. But my direction was clear and I had a job to do, just one more job to do.

The room was dark except for the candle light emerging from behind me. The light from the butler’s room caused me to appear like that of a spectre in the night, a death dealer, a necromancer of evil intent.

At first, I decided to look for the moneybox. Crawling and scrambling about the floor, I could not find it. I searched under the bed and through the drawers and closets…nowhere was there a clue to be found.

Forgetting the noise made in my frantic panicky hunt, the master was awakened. I was positive that he would sleep through the ordeal. I was wrong. He was wide awake and clearly lucid.

“What the devil are you doing in here, boy?” he shouted in that nasty sounding tone. “Get your ass the hell out of here demon – you are a thief in the night – get out you thieving peasant!” His voice made me angry and anxious as he screamed for the tall man and the cook.

“Listen to me you bloody old bastard,” said I. “You’ll tell me where you keep your gold, silver, and money – the moneybox before I cut out your foul heart!” I meant every single word. And he knew it too.

The old man continued screeching as he jumped up and out of the bed. He scratched some match sticks on the box and lit the lantern before I could stop him. Instantly the room was flooded with light. He had time enough to lite two more candles. And then it happened just before I sliced off his head.

The interviewers started to argue amongst themselves. One waved a wrinkled and drying hand, gesturing me to stop talking. He was the assigned legal defender who encouraged me to stop talking. I did not…

It is true that I am nervous, dreadfully very nervous. Is it possible that I had been mad? Maybe I had been and am; but why would you, will you say that I am mad? The disease of alcoholism had sharpened my senses. It did not dull them. My sense of hearing was acute. At that moment, I heard all things in heaven, the Earth, and hell. So why would you say then, that I am or was mad? Am I not conveying to you my portion of the events in a calm and healthy manner?

My attorney sat down and the arguments of the colleagues did cease. They all sat quietly in ponderance and observance.

It is nearly impossible to say how I first decided to accept the idea of robbery. My friend at the pub merely mentioned that he would have liked to have the old man’s riches. I was of a different contemplation… The idea of becoming rich haunted me day and night. There was no real existence of pain or passion, simply irresistible and exhausting desire.

I had had enough of his screeching and bellowing. I asked – demanded once more for him to tell me where the fortune was hidden. He continued to defiantly disrespect and disregard my orders, my demands when that monstrous film laden eye fell upon me. The lantern and candle lit room intensified its’ hideous stare. It was the eye…the pale blue eye with a nasty snot-like slimy film over it – a vulture’s eye.

Now if you think this was the point of my madness, you could very well be correct. It was this evil eye that made my blood run cold. It completely sobered me. You should have seen me. It was then and there that I wisely proceeded with caution, foresight, and dissimulation that I went to work.

The vulture eye never once removed its starring gaze from my eyes. It held me frightfully fast. I could not move. I hesitated. In that moment of hesitation, there was a chilling calm just prior to my raising the butcher’s blade. The eye left me for an instant that may well have been a minute. It looked down. It looked down at my foot. I was standing on a very expensive Persian rug. The floor boards beneath it creaked.

“Ah, you have spilled the beans Old Man.”

Just as soon as that statement escaped my lips, the damned evil eye was upon me again. It fell upon me in such a manner, that I have not seen before. It caused me to hesitate, I nearly refrained my actions of intent all together.

The old man’s mouth parted in an attempt to speak. Off went his head before he could accomplish the act. The vulture’s eye never closed as his head bounced upon the floor and carpet.

The bleeding seemed to never end. It bled from the neck as well as from the head. The gory mess spurted more forcefully from the body. His hour had come.

I then smiled gaily. The deed is finally done. The problem would be in cleaning up this mess. The gore seemed endless as it was splashed, leaked, and dripped from everywhere in the room. It remained deathly quiet for what seemed a very long time. Although I could hear something…I wasn’t sure what it was or where it was coming from.

I knew that no one was here and the nearest house was half quarter mile away. Should you continue to think me mad, you will think so no longer when I describe the carefully wise and patient manner in my plan to conceal the body. But before I do anything else, I must recover the moneybox before it is soaked in blood. I still have several more hours of darkness before the morning Sun.

The heavy floor rug was moved away without effort. I threw it over the old man’s headless body. The head sat upright, looking at me through the film covered vulture’s eye while the other bloodshot one looked away. There seemed, I thought, to be a kind of thumping sound not unlike the one heard earlier, although faint.

The night began to wane. I removed the three creaking planks in the floor. Truly, the fortune was underfoot all the while pleading and demanding the old man’s untold secret.

Inside the brass box was two small burlap pouches of gold coins, bank bonds, and some other legal documents of no concern to me. I could not return the bloodied rug over the replaced flooring planks because it was soaked in the old man’s blood. The boards were replaced with accurate precision. No human eye, not even mine could have detected any difference than the rest, except for spilled and spotted blood upon them.

I had to replace the blood-spoiled rug with that of another from another room. It fit perfectly. Wise was I to think ahead to place absorbent free canvases and water repellent linings under the old man’s bed without his notice or knowledge. This operation took place while he was asleep sitting upon the privy on Saturday night.

Upon completion of cleaning the walls and floors of the bed chamber, I preceded to remove the body to the large tub in back of the house. The thumping by this time had increased ten-fold. Someone would hear this upon arrival. It must be stopped. Where is it coming from?

I searched all over the mansion to no avail. The thumping was by this time, nerve shattering. Returning to the tub, I was preparing to carve up the frail body and place them, the body parts, in the hay bailer. But there was a problem. The body was gone. The old man’s head and body, were not in the tub where I left them. The blood was still there – no body or head!

The horrible thumping continued. Along with the thumping came the chilling sound of the old man’s voice in a mocking spirit-like laughter.

The old man was sitting in his bed when I arrived back to his room. He was laughing at me. The slimy blue evil vulture’s eye was upon me…more intense than before. The room was brilliantly lit. I do not know til this day, from where it came. The thumping and the laughter and the gawking evil eye where just too much to take at one time…

I threw myself upon the old man. Ripping, pulling, and punching on him, I sliced off his head again. I did it with my ‘Bowie Knife’ this time. The other blades were washed, cleaned, and stored. They would be found in their original place in the kitchen after the fire burns down the property.

The head came right off. It was easy. It kept laughing while the eye kept gawking at me. I threw the head with that nasty eye, into the fireplace of the old man’s room. That’s when I discovered the source of the thumping. It was his bloody heart!

After all had been done, the packing of my things, the removal of any evidence indicating I’d been there, were removed. It was twilight. On one side of the house the Sun was rising. On the other side it was still as twelve o’clock midnight. The damned thumping heart was in my hands when a knock came upon the main door of the mansion. It was a loud demanding and pounding knock. I froze with fright. Who was there? What was I to do with these remaining body parts? I turned to see the headless body. It was gone…again! It disappeared. I must have been dreaming. I think I was not! The thumping heart remained in my hands, dripping and oozing fresh crimson blood. The bell on the outside of the main door rang with insistence. It rang in the same demanding manner as the knock upon the door. I jumped from the freshly made old man’s bed and threw back the replacement rug, exposing the three planks in the floor. In it, the hiding place, I dropped the old man’s loudly and violently thumping heart.

The beating did not stop. The pounding upon the door grew louder and more demanding. I did believe that I heard voices shouting and ordering the opening of the door, forthwith!

It seemed like hours had passed while I stood still, very still. I remembered the slight planning of this horrible deed. I should have taken more time at that stage.

In my mind’s ear, I heard a groan, a slight groan. Along with the groan came ice cold dread and mortal terror. How would I pay for this crime…this sin? I heard another groan, a slight groan. It was not the groan of pain, suffering, or grief; no it was not. It was the low pitched, though rising, sound that comes from the bottom of the soul and supercharged with awe. I was momentarily distracted with these memories of the event. That sound has taken me away at many a midnight dream. When the whole world was sleeping, I did not.

Welled up in my bosom, the weight of deepened dreadful echoes of terror kept me awake. The drink…the drink of the spirits, brewery, or the fluid yield of the vine was all that was needed to quell the storm that keeps me from sleep.

I knew how the old man felt. I did observe him closely at the church this morning. I had the strangest feeling that he knew what I was thinking, what I was planning. I think he knew it well. I didn’t know whether to pity him or not.

That murdering night, he looked at me. Sitting in his bed, he looked at me with that accursed eye. And the thump, thump, thump, and bumpity heart pounded in my head til it hurt. He laughed. He is laughing at me still; that hideous satanic laugh. He had indeed attempted to comfort himself with several suppositions.

“It was just a mouse scampering across the floor, it was just the wind blowing the chimes, or that of a timid cricket, chirping his nightly music.”

In vain they all had been, because death approached him quickly. He had seen the black shadow before me, somehow. Was time standing still? I could not take from my sight the hideously distinctive dull blue veil over that evil vulture’s eye. It sent ripples and currents of chills through the very marrow of my bones.

I could remove from my hearing the awful thumping, thumping, and bumpity thump of that dreadful heart; the heart of which I was standing over. It bumped and thumped underfoot, beneath the planks. I didn’t have time to wrap it. I didn’t have time to wash my hands. Upon opening mu eyes, I did expect to see the headless body of the old man upon the bed. I did not see him. I did not see the blood on my hands as they reached for the lock on the front door. Was I blind? Was I imagining all this? Yes, it had to be a drunken dream. Am I, have I gone completely mad?

The pounding suddenly and abruptly stopped. It was completely silent. It seemed, in a distance, I could hear voices. The voices sounded as if one were standing in a tunnel or a vast train station with the echoing of hundreds of thousands of voices speaking all at once. Then it came. It came up from the voices. It began to separate, to single out from amongst them. The laughter grew closer and louder. It was familiar to me, to my dreams. I was afraid, very afraid.

I felt as if I were standing on a cloud. I suddenly felt light-weighted, very light-weighted. The laughter grew to a thundering pitch. It was very close to me. It was all around me. The distant voices weren’t distant any longer. They too, were all around me, but where? The face that I had seen more than several times was stating me in the face. It began to smile, and it began to laugh. Yes, that was it…the repulsively vile and evil laugh of the smiling man!

He stood fully in front of me, taller than I. He waved one arm and produced the thumping heart. It was larger than recollection. In the other hand, he held the head of the old man. It also laughed. It laughed with its eyes closed. I closed mine and found that I could not. I saw it. I saw the old man open his ugly eyes! Of the two horrible orbs was that dull blue and hideously veiled evil eye of a vulture that chilled the very marrow of my bones, again and again. The smiling man looked down, right underfoot, the floor did open. It opened into a massive fiery pit of yellowish red and black glowing beings that appeared to be human forms – human beings. They were clambering and clawing at one another in fits of agony and painful gyrations of obtaining freedom. It was all vividly seen, right underfoot. The laughter, the crying, the pounding thumps, and the brilliant light did take away, drive me insanely out of my senses…completely out of my mind.

Three men entered when the street door opened. They introduced themselves authoritatively as policemen. One of them spoke and said, “Someone, a neighbor heard a shriek in the night. They were aroused by suspicions of foul play. They did telephone the station while another arrived in person. Several patrons at the pub also reported the possibility of misdeeds at these premises prompting us to investigate.”

This statement was reported after I’d asked the reason for their visit.

“The shriek was mine officers.” I replied. “I was having a series of bad dreams during the night.”

Allowing their inquisitions by welcoming them, I mentioned the old man was not at home.

“Alone in the house are ye?” The officer asked.

“Yes, the master of the house is residing at the summer residence in the countryside.” I smiled and conducted a tour of the house and grounds while leading them all about, I did my very best to lead them away from the master’s bed chamber. Once there, they scrutinized everything. They examined his valuables and moneybox. Everything was complete. I had not the time to complete my packing of the gold, silver and bonds in my packed belongings. They inquired about my packed bags. I told them that I was to join the master and the other household servants at the summer residence tomorrow.

Their interrogation appeared to be nearing its end while seated in the old man’s room. My chair, in my arrogance, was posted directly above the damned hellish heart. I smiled fervently and often. My manner, it seemed, was convincing. I answered cheerily while they rifled question after question. Familiar pieces of conversation were chatted between them. My head began to grow heavy. The pounding, though faintly low, began to thump. Laughter in the distance was eerily threatening. I looked eagerly into their eyes and faces and wondered if they could hear what I was hearing. I wished they would leave, leave now.

They continued to sit and chat. I joined in freely in an attempt to get rid of the ache of dread. I wished they would leave.

The distinctive noise of laughter and the pounding beat of that hideous heart underfoot, would simply give me away. My dulled and frightened senses could no longer distinguish the real or unreal. Where there was once a bloody headless corpse, a vulture eye laden head, and blood splattered room with the gaping hole, was the gate of hell…right there underfoot.

I was still sitting and chatting with the three interrogating policemen. How is this possible? How could this be?

I spoke more fluently and with a brightened voice. I boasted as if in a drunken state. The noise continued to grow. They heard it not. The chatted as if I was not there. I spoke louder in an attempt to overspeak the laughter of the smiling man and the pounding heart. The floor boards began to move beneath my feet. I stomped on the boards to keep them still. I smiled, almost to a fiendish grin. They talked, the laughing as loud, and the heart pounded like a drum.

They looked at me while continuing the conversation. They looked at me with an accusing stare. No, they weren’t there. Oh, but I was there. No, I wasn’t there…it wasn’t me!

They saw him…they saw the smiling man holding the head of the old man in one hand and the beating heart in the other. At his feet, right underfoot laid the headless body of the old man, and the other two corpses in their various forms of murdered remains, right underfoot. Could they not see this? It was plain enough to see… The horrible hole of hell lay right underfoot!

I remember someone saying, “If thy eye offends thee, pluck it out.”

The oily film covered vultures eye offended me and I plucked it out from the head of the old man. I did this thing right in front of the policemen…I think. I think that I was glad. I showed them the horrible film covered eye…I showed them how awful it is.

My blood ran cold. I was no longer in the old man’s room. The police were nowhere to be found. Where were they? I could not see them. I could not hear them talking.

I remember, I think, my bloody wrists in shackles. My hands and clothing were covered in red gore. My boots were covered in mud from my trek across the rain soaked back grounds of the mansion to the waiting prison wagon. I do recall many forms of investigators marching through the kitchen, barn, and stable of the old man’s property. Many different things…cutlery, and gadgets were being removed as well. They were committing a thorough search and seizure.

A tiny slither of moonlight slices the darkness through a crack in the cold slimy wall. My bed of rags and dried muddy straw lay just underfoot. Adjacent to the crack is a port sized glassless concrete window, sealed in by three iron bars that prevented escape through this particular conduit. The view from the window atop the bulwark of the prison citadel was to the left and to the right.

On the left was the silhouette of the guillotine, on the right was the view of the gallows, and above them only sky.

Justine Tisdale pondered a thought:

~”Man, Behold Thy Story – The Conqueror Worm”~

(E. A. P.)

The Devil is a real person…a real person indeed.

Til Next Time…

“The Tell Tale Heart,” Inspired by Author, Edgar Allan Poe, and “Tattletale” by Gregory V. Boulware
Tony Evans, “Free at Last”
The Marquis De Sade, “My Vengeance Needs Blood”
“The conqueror Worm,” Edgar Allan Poe

“When we see men of a contrary character, we should turn inwards and examine ourselves.”
“Learning without thought is labor lost; thought without learning is perilous.”

“Oh, I was so much older then but, I’m younger then that now!”

“Tattletale or The Tell Tale Heart”

“Selling Your Soul to The Devil” – Demonrising
Colleen Douglas


“Book Crossing”

“Article Posting Sites”


About Me:


The Ghost Writer Interviews – Pt. 1:

The Ghost Writer Interviews Pt.2: “So You’ve Become An Author, Why?”:

Pt.3 – Closing Statement – “So You’re Going Where?”



“Because thou hast thrown me out of the way, lo! I will lie in wait for them. Then I will assault them from before and behind!”

“OUT OF DIVINITY – The Concept of Man’s Creation and Salvation”
~A gift of inspiration, wisdom, and Truth~
Gregory V. Boulware

Satan met and badgered Jesus in the desert. He was in the crowd shouting for his guilt, trial, conviction, and execution by crucifixion

The divine plan in man’s creation was objected to by the angels. The knowledge endowed in man and made to manifest to the angels through Adam and Eve with the exception of Ibliss. He refused to obey and was cast off. Adam and Eve were warned against the ‘Forbidden Tree’ while stationed within the ‘Garden of Eden.’ Disregarding the warnings, Satan beguiled them and caused their downfall. We have all learned that Adam repented through the words taught him by GOD:

“The Virtuous Shall be Rewarded and The Wicked Shall Be Punished!”

According to The Oxford Dictionary of Islam, Shaytan is used in the Quran in the singular and the plural Shayatin often interchangeably with Iblis, who is “considered to be a particular Shaytan.”

According to basic Islamic teachings, God revealed the creation of three intelligent species: angels, jinn, and humans, of which the latter two have been granted free will to choose between good and evil, and the Quran states that there is other creation beyond human knowledge “and He has created (other) things of which ye have no knowledge.”

The angels do not have free will and cannot sin because they were not granted the freedom by God to disobey. When God created Adam, he commanded all the angels and Iblis (whose rank allowed him to be considered equal to that of an angel) to prostrate to Adam as was termed “the Best of Creation”. All the angels did so but Iblis refused to obey, and was brought into a state of rebellion against God. For this God cast him out of Jannah (paradise), and intended to punish him. Iblis begged God to delay the punishment until Yawm al-Qiyāmah (Last Judgment), which was granted by God. It is We Who created you and gave you shape; then We bade the angels prostrate to Adam, and they prostrate; not so Iblis; He refused to be of those who prostrate.

(Allah) said: “What prevented thee from prostrating when I commanded thee?” He said: “I am better than he: Thou didst create me from fire and him from clay.”
—Quran, sura 7 (Al-A’raf) ayat 11-12

Iblis was proud and arrogant and considered himself superior to Adam, since Adam was made from clay and Iblis from smokeless fire. For this act of disobedience, God cursed him to Jahannam (Hell) for eternity, but gave him respite until the Day of Judgment, after Iblis requested it. Iblis obtained permission from God and vowed that he would use this time to lead all men and women astray to Hell as a way of revenge against them. By refusing to obey God’s order he was thrown out of paradise and thereafter he was called “Shaytan.”

He said: “Give me respite till the day they are raised up.”
(Allah) said: “Be thou among those who have respite.”
He said: “Because thou hast thrown me out of the way, lo! I will lie in wait for them on thy straight way:
“Then will I assault them from before them and behind them, from their right and their left: Nor wilt thou find, in most of them, gratitude (for thy mercies).”
(Allah) said: “Get out from this, disgraced and expelled. If any of them follow thee, – Hell will I fill with you all.”
—Quran sura 7 (Al-Aʻraf), ayah 14-18Although God grants the request, he also warns Satan that he would have no authority over his sincere ʻubūd ‘devoted servants’.

“As for My servants, no authority shalt thou have over them:” Enough is thy Lord for a Disposer of affairs.
—Quran, sura 17 (Al-Isra), ayah 65

He who believes in that which hath been sent down unto thee and that which hath been sent down before thee, and of the hereafter they are sure… These are the ones on the guidance from their Lord, and these are the ones who shall be the successful.
Verily, those who disbelieve, alike is it for them, thou warneth them or warneth them not; they will not believe.
God has sealed up their hearts and their hearing; and upon their sight is a covering; and for them is a great chastisement. Of the people who say we believe in God and of the Last Day, they are not believers at all. The deceive God and those who believe, while they deceive not but themselves, they perceive not.
In their heart is a disease and God increaseth their disease, for them is a painful chastisement, because of the lie they were saying.
And when it is said unto them, “Make ye not mischief in the Earth.” They say, “Verily, we are only the well-doers.”
Beware! Verily, they are the mischief mongers but they perceive not.

When it is said unto them, “Believe ye as the people did believe,” they say, “Shall we believe as the fools did believe?” Beware! Verily, they are the fools, but they know not. And when we meet with those who believe, they say, “We Believe” but when they go apart to their devils, they say, “Surely we are with you, verily, we did but mock.”
God mocketh at them and He only alloweth them to continue bewildered in their rebellion…
These are they who purchase error for guidance, hence their translation profitteth them not, neither are they guided aright.

The likeness of them is like unto one who kindleth a fire, and when it lighteth all around him, God taketh away the light and leaveth them in darkness – so they see not.
They are left deaf, dumb, and blind; hence they will return not from their darkness, of like a rain storm from heaven fraught with darkness, thunder and lightning. They put their fingers in their ears against the thunderclaps for fear of death; and verily, God encompasseth the disbelievers. The lightning well-neigh snatchet away their sight; as often as it gleameth for them, they walk therein and when it getith dark for them, they halt; if God willed, He could take away their hearing and their sight. Verily, God hath power over all things.
~Al BaQarah (The Cow); ‘Holy Qur’an’~

“The Virtuous Shall be Rewarded and The Wicked Shall Be Punished!”

“Greeting Good Saviour. I have been informed concerning you and your cures, which are performed without the use of medicines and herbs. It has been reported that you cause the blind to see, the lame to walk, do both cleanse lepers and cast out unclean spirits and devils, and restore them to health who have been long diseased, and raised up the dead; all which when I heard, I was persuaded of one of these two, either you are God himself descended from heaven, who do these things, or the Son of God.

On this account therefore, I have wrote to you, earnestly to desire you to take the trouble of a journey hither, and cure a disease which I am under. For I hear the Jews ridicule you, and intend you mischief.

My city is indeed small, but neat, and large enough for us both.

Jesus’ reply was sent by Ananias the footman to ABGARUS. He declined the welcomed visit invitation to Edessa:
“Abgarus, you are happy, for as much as you have believed on me, whom ye have not seen. For it is written concerning me, that those who have seen me should not believe on me, that they who have not seen might believe and live.
As to that part of your letter which relates to my giving you a visit, I must inform you, that I must fulfill all the ends of my mission in this country, and after that be received up again to Him who sent me.
But after my ascension I will send one of my disciples, who will cure your disease, and give life to you, and all that are with you.”

The gospel of ‘Nicodemus,’ formerly the Acts of Pontius Pilate, portray the sufferings and resurrection of Our Master and Savior, Yahshua / Jesus Christ:
Christ accused to Pilate by the Jews of healing on the Sabbath, nine summoned before Pilate by a messenger who does him honor, twenty worshipped by the standards bowing down to him.
Annas, Caiaphas, Summas, Datam, Gamaliel, Judas, Levi, Nepthalim, Alexander, Cyrus, and other Jews along with the Devil who shouted out from amongst them of the crowd, went to Pontius Pilate about Jesus, accusing him with many bad crimes.

In the name of the ‘Holy Trinity,’ The Acts of Our Savior ‘Jesus Christ / Yahshua,’ which the emperor ‘Theodosius The Great’ found at Jerusalem, in the Hall of Pontius Pilate among the public records; these things were acted in the nineteenth year of ‘Tiberius Caesar,’ emperor of the Romans, and in the seventeenth year of the government of Herod the son of Herod, King of Galilee, on the eighth of April, which is the twenty-third day of the month of March, in the CCIID Olympiad, when Joseph and Caiaphas were rulers of the Jews; being a history and written in Hebrew by Nicodemus, of what happened up to and after Our Saviour’s Crucifixion.

“The Virtuous Shall be Rewarded and The Wicked Shall Be Punished!”

The devil appeared not less than four or five times throughout the scenes in ‘The Greatest Story Ever Told.’ He sat and spoke with Yahshua / Jesus in the desert offering gifts and majestic rewards, in the desert while he was fasting. He was there in the shadows of the crowd in Jerusalem. He was the first one to shout blasphemy at the gates of Pontius Pilate, and the first to shout crucify him and free Barabbas and one of the initial accusers, he and Caiaphas.

Pilate pondered the err of his decision:
“What have I done? I knew before those eerie words crossed my lips that I had made an egregious erroneous decision! The wash water does not remove the bloody evil bestowed upon my unclean hands. And so it is ruled – to the cross with the prisoner! I shouted. Why did I mouth aloud those unholy words? For I have found that He is truly the Christ – The Son Of God!”

Yahshua said unto his disciples upon his returning to them at Galilee:
“Go now and teach all the nations of the world, for I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.”

Til Next Time…

The Spirit of the Soul and the Death of Morals

“Seeker of Wisdom, Truth, and Justice: BEREAN”

“Arc of the Prophet”

“A Letter from My Father”

“Israelites Came To Ancient Japan”

“The Land of OZ and The Land of Babel”

“The Awakening Dream”

“Amongst Us”, The Devil in Islamic theology

Abgar V

Boulware Books:

About Me:





Someone in a school class room asked, “Why do we have to have African Studies or a Black History Month? Why can’t we have an Asian, Italian, French, Jewish, Irish, Russian, Armenian, German, or Chinese history month?”
The answer that was given is… “Africans were enslaved and brought here to America in Chains! They’ve had their culture, Language, and lives ripped from them when they were snatched from their homes – they are the only group of people who were forced to come here…they did not come voluntarily to America. It was built on Free Slave Labor!”

“Across The Way”
Gregory V. Boulware

The preparations were under way…

The repast was hot, delicious, and plentiful. They had all eaten to their hearts content. Their gullets were stuffed full of revelry, joy, and family. Many could not participate in such fine raiment, delicacy, or domicile – for they had none.
Many jumped up and ran for the door. Some took naps and rested from their great ordeal with the plate, spoon, and fork. They, some, prepared for the morrow’s day of work and service, while many gathered their currency, plastics, and smart phones in readiness of the day called black. Some gave thanks while others did not. Because the lived across the way.

The day celebrating the great birth was festive. Many were concerned with those who had not while many simply walked over and away – stepped over obliviously, ignored and cast away. Albeit, much of it due to invisibility and wanton chosen-selective ignorance. Unemployment rested upon pins and needles too. The session of debate, decision, and a rush for the door was their only hope. Hopes were shattered, spat on, and trashed with the traversing footfalls of the end of session escape into oblivion. Their far away domiciles were kept hidden from the masses and the media – the eye of truth, justice, and liberty for all, especially for those on this side, across the way.

Lights of brilliance and babbles squinted and stretched wide the eyes of the pious and the marveled. They ran across the way to see what sparkled next, what was less or more expensive, the best, the biggest, and brightest or the most. After the acquiring of trinkets and loot were brought back to residences of glitter and preference, brought in through doorways, windows, and chimneys, all of which is not required or afforded across the way. In a word, they ran away and denounced such things as ludicrous – the words scribed in a pretty Good Book:
“This,” saith the Lord, “learn not the way of the heathen; for the heathen are dismayed at them, for the customs of the people are vain; for one cutteth a tree out of the forest, the work of hands of the workman, with the axe. They deck it with silver and with gold; they fasten it with nails and with hammers, that it move not. But, they are altogether brutish and foolish: the stock is a doctrine of vanities.”
~Jeremiah, Chp. 10~

Can you not see, o’ ye across the way?

The ball dropped and fell down the pole. They ran across the way to see… The newly entered year was seized with revel and joyous behavior. Will it be short lived? I think yes… The old and the weak stayed away from the celebration for fear of being trampled by the maddened crowd, in their attempt to get the best spot – across the way.

The people, who knew not what they do, boasted the image of Him with looks of falsehood. His head and his hairs were white like wool, as white as snow, and his eyes were as a flame of fire. Trojan lands were under siege.
“I know thy works, and tribulations, and poverty, but thou art rich and I know the blasphemy of them which say they are the Jews, and are not, but are the Synagogue of Satan” – although Enoch walked with God across the way.

Cain dwelt in the land of Nod, east of Eden; the earthen giants were children of angels and the human female. The daughters of man were indeed fair.

Multitudes of the unemployed held hope by the throat in strained attempts to believe the elected would, sooner or later, do the right thing – for those across the way. They were running to get across the way – in pursuit, in a foolish attempt of evading the Most High, to escape from the avenging archangel in the night, or Satan himself – to catch the naked Black Man before he could reach the safety of freedom across the way.

The ones on the other side of the aisle stretched with strained limbs, reached out with portentous contention, endeavoring to show them the light of the righteous.
“Do not leave the session now – do not leave when we are needed the most – your homes are intact and well endowed. Is it not our duty, our responsibility to see to it that all are just as secure? Is it not our charge to provide so that they can make it over there, across the way? We beseech thee, to the last just and sober soul, come back inside and live up to the honor that has been bestowed upon thee; for the people, by the people, and for the people. Even if one creed does not support the other, the colloquial destiny is one.

Cherries and fantasy enfold the living belief of life inside the liquid crystal display. Several survivors of the dinner hour sit seated eagerly awaiting their turn to contribute his or her day’s experience. Parental loving pride casts a mighty beacon throughout the land of freedom town. The totality of the union, (for the moment), superlatively overwhelms the surrounding host of despair. The lack of oneness is the ultimate sacrifice mankind has submitted – given in to Satan. His power resides in the destruction of mankind. Many are duped into the following and faith of individuality, contempt, separation, and isolation of the masses. For as long as we are not capable of understanding and communication, how can there be total cohesion, peace, and equality amongst us? In believing that one is mightier than the other, better than your God – the curse bestowed upon those who built the ‘Tower of Babel,’ falls and spreads throughout the lands of the world, across the way; allowing Satan’s victorious smile.

Gladiators of the grid iron, hoop, and diamonds of dirt, ring of passion and rope, or Olympian trials are bestowed with greatness from admiring eyes. Richness and wealth has befallen them. Who is now the master and who is to be the servant? Cold cereal, shaving razors, soda pop, and beer is presented with scantily clad light and white complected females, boasting their breasts and bottoms with pride, supported by rich green dollars of slobbering alcohol drenched, back slapping neophytes and Neanderthals. Waitresses are pinched, kissed, and slapped in the name of jest, subtlety, and lust. Giant screen television with lifelike dramatizations and alienations saturate the horde of rampaging elbow-benders galore. The reach across the way was caught by the studious husband of a flirtatious wife, even though he had completed his condemned covenant breaking rendezvous, returning from across the way.

Griping and groaning, because the snow won’t stop falling when they wanted it to. Did the snow fall purposely to mess up their day, to ruin their plans? What are the benefits of snow while you work the shovel and throw the stuff over there – across the way? Have you been sick? Had a cold? What do you think happens to the spittle found all over the sidewalks when the old dirty snow is melted, shoveled, scooped, and piled over there – across the way?
Cars, buses, trucks, trains and planes have succumbed to the wrath of the winter’s inclement onslaught. Its highways and byways smothered in white fluff and icy-cold. The trees, many of them elderly, reluctant to bearing the weight of stuff falling on them from the sky. They’ve decided and were forced to bend and break and utilize suburban houses and support poles as buffers on their way downward to restful sidewalks and grounds, there across the way.

The humans, many of highly secured and “well-to-do” means, were suddenly and abruptly denied their basic needs. Never mind the ones who’ve lived their lives continually, without the things they take for granted.
The cold winds howled and blew. It huffed and puffed and blew everything down. Water pipes froze and burst. Many wiped their dry mouths lusting with thirst, for want of a glass of water. After several days, the agony began to drive them mad – to the brink of murder. The lights were off. The TV didn’t work. The Kindle would not fire due to the dead and dying batteries. Nowhere was any convenient every day, ordinary power of any kind. Transportation was no longer an optional package of consideration for them over there, across the way.

The car started up fine, but it was of no use, no good. There were no longer available amenities for the cute little cul-de-sacs that were now pools of plight and despair, brewing a pending inevitable platform for starvation. Hot, live electric wires and power lines were untouchable, unapproachable. No more matches, paper, or firewood was available for lighting warmth in the fireplace. The gas grill was empty of propane. The charcoal grill killed a few families who didn’t wish to freeze to death in the safety of their broken, busted, and exposed homes.
One guy wondered, “What did the Indians do? Are we going to die like the pilgrim settlers, leaving the safety of the sea going vessels that carried them here to the Americas? I remember that wagon train in the western time mountains – they got stuck in hundreds of feet of snow and began to eat each other for survival. What did they use for a cook fire? Where are the Indians when you need them? They could help us survive! Please, won’t somebody tell us what to do?”
Some of the residents were fortunate enough to make the shelter circuit. Two weeks in, the repair crews were indefatigable in their dedication of restoring power to the various out of town communities.

The heavy-set Black Man, a power company supervisor, addressed the derelict destitute and depraved semi-homeless vagrants. He paid them a cordial visit, simply to reassure them, and report the power teams’ daily progress. He wanted to let them know how soon they could begin to return to their homes. But that was not to be. Savage and unjustly attacked was he. They hit him with verbal assaults from any and every direction. They wanted satisfaction now – right now.

“You are telling a damned lie! We are tired of waiting for you slow moving useless and worthless jabber jaws!”

He tried in vain to calm the people, none of which who looked like him. When he could not bring peace and control to the raucous group, he reached for his belongings that had been taken from him. They stole his lunch box, books and papers he’d brought to the meeting, and grabbed for his outer clothing. They were confiscated as well. He bolted from the room screaming into his cell phone and radio for help that would never come. Losing the radio as he made his life saving escape, the rampaging entities of the helpless suburbanites with the appearance of chalk-faced zombies, turned on and began attacking each other. They could not see eye-to-eye, they could not reason with any inkling of sanity. They came from over there, across the way.

The wind, rain, snow, and ice stopped falling – then after six hours had past, began again for twenty-four more hours. It all stopped and subsided, then left completely. It was clear that someone, something was watching them. It, Them, She, or He was watching to see how the tables had turned – how the tide has fared… The One who is The Most High, the One who sat and watched them of means – when it is all gone. He saw what they did, how they did…from over there – across the way.

Til Next Time…

“Arc of the Prophet”


“Black Robbers”

“The Colour of the Old West”

“Black American Freedom Fighters” – “What Is A Man Who Does Not Make The World Better?”

“As The Clock Turns”

“The Black Book” – Pinterest


“Arc of the Prophet”

“Seeker of Wisdom, Truth, and Justice: BEREAN”


‘FAIRMOUNT’…a sneak preview!



Armed to the gills, SWAT team and police officers swarmed and swooped down on the zoo area. Their attempt at restoring order only made a bad situation worse. One of the SWAT team members got a glimpse of the… (pg. 154)

Bowfeather sprinted across the zoo courtyard toward the fear filled gun crazed shooter. A little girl of approximately nine or ten years of age, cried out. A hot sharp pain creased the top of her left foot, just under her untied shoelace. The sudden bloodletting slice on her head spewed a fountain of red. Her running mother kept her from hitting the ground by grabbing and smothering her child into her loving arms. They fell on the grass beside the monster balloon inside the 34th street fence. Bowfeather ran a jig-saw like pattern, attempting to avoid the weapon-fire. The ducking and dodging back and forth style of running brought back images of ‘Jim Brown’ when he starred in the movie, “The Dirty Dozen.” Donald incorporated the same type of elusive maneuvers with his eyes set dead on his target.

Genailia found herself crouching behind one of the benches. In her attempt to lend aid to the chaotic situation and frightened people, she narrowly escaped her own death. An errant slug from the weapon fire of the gung-ho cop ricocheted off a metal post and creased her brow. She suffered a razor-line slice just above… (pg. 155)

Salestian saw the whole thing, he and his cameraman. Sally didn’t care that he might be caught on camera when he dropped what he was doing and rushed to the side of the woman he desired. All that he saw was an opportunity to get close to her – to ravish her – all in the name of… (pg. 155)

The police captains coordinated their teams around the entire area surrounding the zoo. The West Philly neighbors in the area were encouraged to remain in their homes. Captain Noodles’ team was stationed on the Girard Avenue side of the zoo while Samuels’ team was settled on the Spring Garden side. Samuel’s team was also assigned coverage along the backside of the zoo from the rail yard into the 38th Street area through Parrish into 40th. Noodles’ team cordoned the Girard Avenue Bridge covering the West River Drive access routes and I-76 into 33rd Street. The National Guard dispatched men and equipment that filled the area as well.

Complicating matters at the zoo, the police were still working murder cases. One of the cases is the unsolved Fairmount Park Rapist. The other is the Kensington Strangler. A jogger running along the East River Drive, back in October 2003, was stabbed and raped while running on the drive near Fountain Green Road. A previous attack was investigated in April of the same year. Later, in July, the Philadelphia Homicide Unit was also investigating a stabbing in Wynnefield Heights. That same month in 2009, a woman was sitting on a park bench in the park when a man came running from the woods. “He was balls ass naked,” she said. Prior to that incident, a woman was sleeping on a park bench after a run. A man who covered her face with a tee shirt awakened her. He forced her into a wooded area, where he tied her wrists with plastic ties and… (pg. 68)

Ranger Glenn arrived at the zoo at approximately 11:35 P.M. His team got there 5 minutes later. Genailia popped open her investigators kit and began taking samples and scrapings of scratches on the bars, ground, and walls of the bruin exhibit. Glenn and lieutenant Wells headed to the 34th Street side of the zoo. After examining the tracks in the snow, they followed the trail from the broken gate to the east side of the street. The trail ended at the curb. Wells ran to that side of the street. Signs pointed to a trail down the embankment outside of the pavement. In the dirt, trees, shrubbery, and mud that headed down towards the I-76 Expressway, there were more prints and signs that the animals who tracked through the area were heading towards the river. Asa Wells motioned to Gerald Glenn to come and see what he’d found. The ranger jogged across the street to where Wells was standing. Wells pointed at the shrubbery, broken limbs, marks on the tree, and the tracks in the mud and snow. (Pg. 68)

“Staring into the eyes of a killer, one late and rainy fall day, we were traveling along in the prison van. We were chained together with handcuffs. Can one imagine a face-to-face with a man who had mercilessly butchered four people, including a three-year-old baby girl?
This guy was being transported from one jail to another. This latest exchange was just another appearance, appealing the death sentence he’d received.
I’d been locked up now for about three months. Child support was the issue. A minor discrepancy for a misplaced payment recorded by the court clerk went missing. (Pg. 113)

“Smith Playground Assault on 33rd St.”
“Philly Metro Bus Assailed”
Pg. 198
“National Guardsman Attacked”
Pg. 85
“Mauled and Decapitated Man on
West (MLK) River Drive in Philly” pg. 188

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A Rave Review!



Here’s a “FREE – BEE – 4 – U”
“You can catch the Devil but how long can you hold him…?”

“Howl Of An Angel”: ‘HALLOW II’ – Coming Real Soon…
Exclusively on ‘The Bookmarketing Network!”

“Is Kissing My Woman In The Woods A Crime?”

Who is it that actually runs this initially intended Anglo-Protestant-Hippocratic-Puritan society of government (i.e., “We The People,” which people?) working’s that’s riddled with corruption, racism, envy, hatred, oppression and suppression? Are they truly manipulated puppets of evil intent? How many of us remember that Satan was despised and cast out from heaven? Do you remember what he supposedly said and vowed to do? You may recall the infamous line – “It is better to rule in hell than to serve in heaven?” He made no bones about his hatred for mankind. He vowed to kill or destroy every man, woman, and child of humanity – “all of them by any means necessary!”
While he usually or never has a direct physical contact with the masses, others are at the behest of his directives and desire.

‘This New Title Is Appearing Exclusively in It’s Entirety on The Bookmarketing Network!’
It’s just one of the new dynamic short-stories that will be appearing in the new and upcoming book and sequel to HALLOW!, “HALLOW II!…An Portentous Epoch of Sagacious Redolence and Epiphany!”

“I’ve spoken with the man who creates that God-awful noise.”
Brother Jerome’s amicable demeanor abruptly morphed into that of a mad soothsayer. His eyes flashed with fear. His voice heaved and cracked with thunder when he responded to the self-appointed inquisitor.

“What man? There is no man other than you and the Brotherhood among us here behind the walls of this Keep!”

“I’m sorry Brother, but there is a man here…why do you lie?”

Ellington’s words were sharp and crisp. The cult leader was visibly angered. He was also guilty and quite shaken at Ellington’s accusation because there was a ring of truth within it.

“Yes Brother, there is a man, I’ve spoken with him. Now will you tell me why he is locked up in a cell in the dungeon of this castle?” David was intensely insistent on an explanation.

“A man…here? I spoke of no man! There is no man imprisoned within this Holy Place!”—howl-of-an-angel


“You can catch the Devil but you can’t hold him long…””


“The working citizen who made the mandatory donation!”
‘The Other People’s Money’

“Article Posting Sites”

A Sample From ‘Hallow I’
‘Ultima Thule’:
is a semi-mythical place, usually an island.

Some of you who have copies of HALLOW will remember this thrilling blood and bone chilling tale of woe…

“The Pendulum Of Hades!”
“The lips of black-robed judges appeared before him. They were whiter than the sheet of this printed page.” Their lips displayed an unholy and terrible exaggeration. He saw this. His soul was spoiled…”




“Arc of the Prophet”
Gregory V. Boulware

“Osiris was beautiful of face, but with a Dull and BLACK complexion”

“Two Nations are in thy womb and two manners of people shall be separated from thy bowels; and the one people shall be stronger than the other people; and the Elder shall serve the Younger.”

The Golden Rule:
“Strong Family Loyalty, Ancestor Worship, Respect of Elders by Their Children and of Husbands by their Wives… Family is the basis for Ideal Government.
“Do not do to others what you do not want done to yourself.”

“If the core of the Hebrew Culture has always been religion, then is it truthful to say that through religion, it has most strongly influenced the Western World.”

Talking heads continue talking and protagonizing the word of the few in power and struggling to keep it so. They either have no clue or belief in prophecy as prescribed by the Most High who has taken effort to re-deliver his message via heralds of many stations; Elijah the precursor of the Messiah.

“Many Christians are stuck in spiritual quicksand. The harder they struggle to progress in their walk with (Yahshua, Jehovah, Christ) Jesus, the faster and deeper they sink. Becoming frustrated by the inability of their increased efforts to produce the joy, peace, power, and victory they have heard so much about, many believers have simply given up the struggle and have allowed themselves to sink in the quicksand of spiritual defeat, accepting it as their lot in life. These well-meaning saints go to church faithfully and attend every Christian conference they can find. They read Christian books, listen to Christian radio, and watch Christian television. They dedicate and rededicate their lives to the Lord until they are tired of walking the aisle, crying and begging God for help. Some have fasted and prayed and even sought Christian counseling to deal with their frustrations, yet there seems to be little payoff for their efforts.”

“Some of the saints are stuck in sins and circumstances they know they should be delivered from, but while they whole-heartedly desire deliverance, it continues to elude them.”
~Tony Evans~

“Why are churches, pastors, evangelists, members, saints and friends spending so much time trying to preach the gospel and win souls to Christ?”

“The United Kingdom in the Pan Am Flight 103 bombing trial” – Mandela

Eliza Earsman’s message in her book, “Days of Elijah,” accounts the true-to-life exposure of pure evil. It’s attempts to dominate our daily lives, our very existence. The standing members (a little known secret society that has had members involved in most major events in world history for the last two hundred years) of the demonic, cultish like, power yielding brokers portrayed, are in fact, at this very moment, indulging in the colloquious masonic cause of their “New World Order!” The practice of “Divide and Conquer” is an essential tool in this quest for the mental chaining and continued enslavement of the world economy and constant devilish manipulation of human kind.

“Let the workers do as they will…let those in the depths use force and do wrong, so that we can be justified in using force against them…behold a New World Order!”

Despite failed attempts to silence this author, details emerge of the spiritual contentions and intentions of Britain’s Mountbatten-Windsor Royal family, their inner circles, and other horrifying realities behind the Scottish Ritual Freemasons. Their World War III agenda is exposed. This evidence will move, shock, and sadden readers as a story of loss, faith, love, action, and grief unfolds.

“Being my Brothers’ and Sisters’ keeper, treating others as they would treat Me – It’s not too late to Stop the War!”
~Barack Obama~

“This True Story, as written by Eliza, takes the reader on an amazing journey that involves the Mountbatten-Windsor family, relatives of Sir Winston Churchill, builders of the United States White House, and much more. Now, after years of hardship, running from “those in power,” and finally touched by God, the author Eliza Earsman has had the courage to step forward and share her story with us. What is so interesting about this story over those of others is its sheer unbelievableness. Yet all the facts are clearly presented.

In today’s world of globalization, concealing how the powerful families continue to control much of the world’s financial, economic, and political resources is becoming harder and harder. Yet, at the same time there has been little in terms of facts and hard evidence to clearly demonstrate this. In Days of Elijah: A True Story a few of those facts have been put forth. Like all good stories – and empirically based history.”

“I can say that after reading this book my eyes are open a lot wider, I’m asking questions a lot more, and I’m examining the patterns between power, politics, and religion a lot closer.”
~Peter N. Jones~

“…thou shalt break his yoke from off the neck!”

The book, ‘Spirit of The Soul and The Death of Morals,’ authored by yours truly, espouses and concurs with descriptions concerning the ills of world society as does book titles, ‘Days of Elijah’ and ‘The Choice: The Issue of Black Survival in America.’

“A Presidential Commission found that relatively few white Americans would protest massive repression of Blacks. Presidential advisors have urged the internment of Black (Hebrew) youth on the pretext of rehabilitation. Sterilization and birth control programs are aimed against Blacks while masquerading under the name of hunger relief. In a December speech, President Richard Nixon dashed the hopes of many by not proposing any specific measures for immediate relief of hunger. His primary concern obviously was toward reducing the number of the hungry – not hunger itself – for it was on how to reduce the hungry that he had specific recommendations and specific action. The most emphatic of his three recommendations to the 4,000 conferees at Washington’s Sheraton-Park Hotel, urged that congress support his birth control proposals to congress.”
~Samuel F. Yette~

“There is no avoiding war; it can only be postponed to the advantage of the enemy”
~Niccolo Machiaveni, 1502~

In America, just as the governor of Pennsylvania, Tom Corbett has done, state governments have reduced if not completely eliminated the ‘Food Stamp Program’ to the poor and needy. This particular ruler has publicly stated that he would not release educational dollars earmarked for public schools in the state’s two largest cities. Primarily, The Philadelphia School District… The plan was without question a viable way to eliminate and eradicate an entire group of dependents at the beginning level…the children. Satan is constantly whispering in the ear of government. It is the easiest and fastest way to destroy mankind enmass.

“If you lead correctly, orders are unnecessary and useless.”

“Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the great and terrible day of the Lord comes. And he will turn the hearts of fathers to their children and the hearts of children to their fathers, lest I come and smite the land with a curse.”
— Malachi 4:5–6

According to the Bible, Elijah lived a mysterious life. The Aggadah naturally did not fail to supply the Biblical gaps in its own way. In the first place, it was its aim to describe more precisely Elijah’s origin. Several different theories regarding Elijah’s origin are presented in literature found within the Aggadah: (1) he belonged to the tribe of Gad (Midrash Genesis Rabbah lxxi.) He was…



“Article Posting Sites”


“A Question of Merit”



“A Question of Merit”
Gregory V. Boulware

Has someone sent you a free Ebook or PDF containing valid and thorough research and content? Did you read it and submit a comment, editorial, or review? No? Have you considered the time and work the author has sacrificed? What about you? Have you been dissed when someone promised to read your material, post a review and/or comment? How did you feel when the promisor welched and pretended not to know you?

Many authors offer free copies of their books and written material only to have the work kicked to the wayside. They offer discounts with hopes of receiving positive and constructive feedback in order to provide a venue or model for improvement. every author is not a writer for profit! think about it… Wouldn’t it be a good thing if authors simply wished people would just read their work in hope of offering you, the reader, some additional fodder towards the improvement to your life journey? How many books have you read in your lifetime? Did you make it through school without the help and guidance of a book?

Would it be discourteous to think that people who receive gifts should acknowledge the fact? Would it be politically wrong to believe that when folks accept written material they should say whether it is a good read or a bad one? Would it be wrong for someone to not say anything to the giver of goods? What would your parents say to you if they knew that you had been rude…or have displayed rude behavior by lying to a person who has been told “I’ll read it later” or “I have to obtain another copy…I’ll buy one later,” after displaying an interest while receiving the work? Is this how you would raise your children? Would you have them live their lives practicing falsehood? What about complacency…would it be polite to expect something for nothing? Would it matter to you that the giver has gone through great expense, time, effort, personal sacrifice in producing said material? Where you really raised to practice such chicanery? How would you feel if promises were brought to bear with the trust and belief in the ones who say they are your family, friends, or colleagues? Don’t you think that expected action undelivered would cause a delay in posterity to the interpolate contribution?

Bona fide authors give a great deal of their time (sometimes it takes years, a lifetime) and effort in order to create. If it were not for writers, what would we know about anything? This action tacitly creates a portentous display of petulance on the part of the receiver who would, in many circumstances, participate in the endeavor to discuss a particular piece of work or author in a position that would describe the writer posthumously.

I wouldn’t like to see this happen to you or any other contributor… Neither would my parents.

(This article was posted to ‘Twitter’ in anticipation of reader accessibility on the social site of ‘Black In America.’ The Club membership will not allow public access, so it’s posted on this great forum, ‘WordPress’ for the world to see…).

There’s nothing like the feel of intelligent, funny, beauty, wonder, and all of the superlative gifts that reading brings through the touch of fingers commandeering a book! The text betwixt the binder and the leafing control of the mind and skin combine the soul and spirit encompassed by the journey of thought.

Should you ever receive a free book from someone, stop, take a minute, say thank you…and do comment to the positive or contrary.

The most accessible enlightenment is a book…read one today and every day after that!

Peace and Love,


“Article Posting Sites”




Still Water Lakes_1995

“Mountain Life”

Gregory V. Boulware

The medicine men and priests among the Indians were usually merely those men who thought more deeply and strenuously than the average men in the tribe. These thinkers tended to live among the more successful tribes. To think, one needed at least some time free from the chore of procuring food.
Native American tribes did not call their medicine people “shamans.” This is a New Age term often misapplied to Native American Spiritual Leaders by people of European descent, self-professed “medicine” people and their followers.

Native Americans, New Agers, and charlatans alike have radically augmented and revised the tenets of traditional Native American religions. “Crystal skull caretakers” sit beside Native American medicine men and medicine women, shamans and priests, and “Star Beings,” rather than buffalo, are pondered. Outraged Native Americans have entered this fray, castigating those they see exploiting traditional Native American spirituality.

These medicine men or spiritual leaders were in a different class than the other men of their tribe. This special status was not dependent on their hunting and fishing. Contact with other tribes enabled thinkers to build and expand their belief frameworks, so medicine men or spiritual leaders were more prevalent in tribes that were accessible to outsiders.

As contemporary Native American religious flowerings are best understood by first examining the origins of Native American Spirituality, all of the contemporary sects are best comprehended in light of the traditional religions. As these differ from their New Age and Christian versions, each group is also unique compared to other traditional sects. These traditional sects are best understood as a conglomerate by investigating a few individual traditional Native American religions.
Indian medicine men, spiritual leaders, priests and shamans

Chief Gerald Glenn, the Medicine Man, was second only to the chief in importance and standing within his tribal group. His duties involved both religious interpretations and pharmacology. A good medicine man became adept at both and as a result, he was often thought of as one who possessed magical powers. Before William Penn’s holy experiment, human impact in the Pocono Mountains by Native Americans and European settlers was minimal.

The Pennsylvania Mountains was one of the last colonies to be settled in the northern region of the state. The region remained wilderness until pressure from European settlers caused and influx of Native Americans from Maryland and the Carolinas’. Glenn, a direct descendent of the Lenape Chieftain of the Penn and Lenape Peace Treaty, 1682, Chief Tammany who died in 1718, was his great-great-grandfather. His wife, a Huron Princess, reared sons who took over as Chief of Nations along the Delaware Water Gap. They lived in peace with the residents of Stroudsburg, founded by Jacob Stroud in 1799.

The villages of the mountains raised buckwheat and rye, a big crop with potatoes, maze, oats, cattle, sheep, and hogs. Chief of his village as well as Chief of the Northeastern regional Forestry and Parks Services, Ranger Captain Glenn; like his, people are also members of the Northwestern Indian Confederacy in the Mountains of Pennsylvania, New York, and Canada. The tribal members are The Cree, The Creek, The Ottawa, The Seminole, The Huron, The Cherokee, The Algonquian, The Ojibwa, The Shawnee, and The Lenape Nations. Glenn continues his leadership in the protection of his people, their land, their tribal beliefs, and their heritage. Glenn’s mother was of Creek/Seminole descent while his father was the Tribal Chief of The Shawnee-Lenape (Munsee-Minisink) of Ontario Canada and the Poconos.

Willice Samuel’s family arrived up North from Georgia by way of Winnsboro, South Carolina. The family settled in Coatesville Pennsylvania, in or about April 1911. Willice’s Great-Great Grandfather talked about a lynching and burned at the stake murder of a Black Man by a mob of white men who wore masks. He said the Black Man; named Zachariah Walker was accused of shooting to death a white cop; named Edgar Rice. He was supposed to have been a special police officer in Coatesville. He went on to say, “The Colored Man was chased and treed in the woods in or near the Robert Faddis Woods near Youngsburg.

The Black Man tried to shoot himself in the head, but failed. They took the Black Man to the hospital were his injuries were treated. A gang of white men broke the window in the main hallway, corralled the police officer guarding him and dragged the Black Man from his sick bed to the Sarah Jane Newland Farm just to the right of the road and almost directly opposite the farmhouse. In a grass field about fifty feet from the road, they gathered dried Chestnut Rails and old fencing to build a fire. It took all of three minutes to get the fire up to a height of ten feet or more. They asked him if he had any last words…he didn’t. He was then thrown into the fire. The flames burned his clothes and seared his flesh – he managed to leap from the fire-pile and jump over a fence. They caught him and tied a rope around his neck and dragged him back onto the burning fire. Walker tried two more times to get out of the bonfire. He tried to get out of the seething furnace of hell. But he was beaten and pulled him back on the burning pile with each try.”

Great-Great-Grandpa continued on with the graphic details. “The sickening smell of burning flesh permeated the air. Folks came from all around to see and take pictures of the burning Black Man. They laughed and drank liquor. Their children had fun too. This all happened on or around Saturday April 12, 1911…we packed and moved to Philadelphia.” The Willice’s are descendants of America’s lucrative Industry of Black Slavery.



“Article Posting Sites”



"A Believers' View"

“A Believers’ View”

Gregory V. Boulware
The latest debacle involving the New Health Care Law, aka, so-called “Obamacare,” is continually used as an excuse to attack and reign in the President… “By any means necessary.” Never mind the fact that the new law has been agreed upon and legally voted into law, By the People, For the People, and By the People of these United States of America. However, the Law of The Land continues to be seen and used as a privy to a chosen few. The Law of The Land is hatred, deception, and denial of Equal and Fair Rights to All of The People in America! Especially Black People!

The implementations and continuation of these practices, i.e., Health Care for All Americans, is being fought against long and hard by those who believe that they are better than you and me, above the law, above the people, and separate from ‘AVERAGE AMERICAN CITIZENS!’ They have openly and blatantly stated their opposition to giving the people of this nation what rightfully belongs to them…US! Why and by what rights do they have to express the mindset of the majority of folks who have been denied this basic right in the first place? Do you think the Internet connections and IPs have been sabotaged and hacked in order to prevent the smooth flowing of health insurance applicants? We’ve all heard about the dilemma of the website application process for health insurance as of late, yes? The opposition has chanted to its demise and promises that it will fail… One way or another! God wants it that way.

“We cannot walk alone. And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back.”
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

The Renaissance planted books throughout Europe that Black Africans were no good, unlawful, barbarians, irrational and needed the control of the civilized White Europeans for their own good. It set the stage for slavery and made it seemingly ethical to the Europeans. That is what was going on in the 1400s.

From the Bible and history we see that Satan always stirs up all his wrath just before the hour of deliverance. It will be no different this time.

Before the coming of the Messiah, Satan had all his people in key positions, especially the religious leaders. He directed King Herod to murder all the babies in Bethlehem in hopes of killing the promised Redeemer. The land of Israel was filled with legions of devils and unclean spirits to oppose the work of the Messiah. Yahshua/Jesus began His preaching ministry in the town where He grew up. The local people’s reaction to His first sermon – they tried to kill Him! And that was the reception He got from the people he knew all His life!

Prior to 1960, libraries in America were filled with books on the Inquisition. Today however, very few can be found. . . . Why has the Inquisition been covered up?
Because the total number of victims of this atrocity reached about 68 million people.

In 1933 the Vatican signed a Concordat with Germany making Roman Catholicism the only recognized religion in that country. Hitler was financed by Wall St. and the corrupt U.S. Bank.

We hear a lot about the Jewish Holocaust when 6 million Jews perished under Hitler. But most people don’t know that Hitler was a Roman Catholic and an instrument of the Holy Office. Hitler was never excommunicated for his crimes against humanity and causing the deaths of millions of people; whereas Martin Luther was excommunicated for translating the Bible into German!!

Eva Braun as a young girl at Simbach Convent. Martin Luther emptied the convents in Germany. He called them “cesspools of iniquity.” The Jesuits filled them up again.

They were Bible-believing Christians, Jews and even Roman Catholics like Joan of Arc, Savanarola, Giordano Bruno and Galileo etc., who were destroyed by the Inquisition carried out by the “Holy Office.” The victims were always found guilty. They never knew who accused them. They never had lawyers, and no one would dare lift a finger to help. . . .

Throughout history, whenever the time came for God to do a great work, the devil has always put forth his utmost power to stop the work of God. Satan was not going to let the children of Israel go to the Promised Land without putting up a tremendous struggle.

This modern Pharaoh will try and exterminate all who refuse to acknowledge him as the Vicar of Christ. However, the Lord Jesus Christ – the Prophet like unto Moses – will overthrow him in a victory greater than at the Red Sea!

…The first known religion of Africans before slavery…. was based on Griots (Spirit Gods)

Am I a Christian? You might ask.

I would respond to you, no. For, was Yahshua/Jesus not a Jew? Maybe ‘Falasha?’ I would say that I believe in the messenger, Yahshua/Jesus. I believe in his teachings, his love, and the Word of God. I like he, am Hebrew, like my Fathers before me who art descendants of ‘Ham’ and ‘Shem’ of the House of Noah, the House of David i.e., the House of Judah…The House of Japheth beget the descendants of the ‘Khazars’ and ‘Judaism.

What is a Christian that murders another Christian? One who murders a Jew, a Muslim, a Buddhist, and/or any other group or belief, in the name of God/Yahweh? It was said (during the war over Jerusalem between the Christians and Muslims), and used as an excuse to murder non-Christians, the statement “GOD WILLS IT” or “IN THE NAME and IN DEFENSE OF CHRISTIANITY!”

It seems to me, if God truly wanted something done, don’t you think he’d do it himself?

“Let no man deceive you by any means: for that Day shall not come, except there comes a falling away first, and that man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition . . . and there shall be a time of trouble, such as never was since there was a nation even to that same time: and at that time thy people shall be delivered, every one that shall be found written in the book” (II Thess. 2:3, Daniel 12:1).
Pastor arrested before he could burn nearly 3,000 Qurans

Sheriff’s deputies arrested Pastor Terry Jones as he drove a pickup truck towing a large barbecue-style grill filled with Qurans soaked in kerosene.

MULBERRY, Florida — Law enforcement arrested a Florida pastor Wednesday as he drove to a park to light nearly 3,000 Qurans on fire to protest the 2001 terrorist attacks.

Sheriff’s deputies arrested Pastor Terry Jones, 61, and his associate pastor, Marvin Sapp Jr., 34, on felony charges as he drove a pickup truck towing a large barbecue-style grill filled with Qurans soaked in kerosene. He had said he was heading to a nearby park to burn 2,998 Qurans — one for every victim of the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks. Sheriff’s officials said they would hold a news conference later Wednesday to discuss specific charges.

Mulberry’s mayor, along with area elected officials, a sheriff’s deputy and several Polk County residents, have talked about the need to express love and tolerance for all faiths on Sept. 11.

Jones is the pastor of a small evangelical Christian church. He first gained attention in 2010 when he planned to burn a Quran on 9/11, although he eventually called it off.
His congregation did burn the Muslim holy book in March 2011 and last year he promoted an anti-Muslim film. All three incidents sparked violence in the Middle East and Afghanistan.

The most violent protest happened after the 2011 Quran burning as hundreds of protesters stormed a U.N. compound in Mazar-i-Sharif in northern Afghanistan, killing seven foreigners, including four Nepalese guards.

Jones has repeatedly ignored pleas from the U.S. military asking him not to stage his protests. Military officials say his actions put American and Western troops in Afghanistan and elsewhere in danger.

Mulberry is a town of about 3,000 between Orlando and Tampa and has no connection to Jones’ church, which recently moved out of its Gainesville building.

An Egyptian court convicted Jones, along with seven Egyptian Coptic Christians in absentia, sentencing them to death on charges linked to the film. The ruling was seen as largely symbolic because Jones and the other defendants live outside of Egypt.

Just last week, a federal judge in Michigan issued a summary judgment in favor of Jones and his organization, Stand Up America Now, against the city of Dearborn for requiring Jones and his organization to sign a city-issued agreement in order to speak on public property in front of a Dearborn mosque in 2012.

Earlier Wednesday, about 75 people gathered In Mulberry for an interfaith prayer service to counter Jones’ actions.

Mike Ghouse, who has organized a 9/11 prayer service in his home state of Texas for nine years, brought his event to Mulberry because of Jones’ planned Quran burning. He initially had planned to hold the service in Texas but teamed with a group of Mulberry residents who had organized an anti-Jones Facebook page.

“Everyone has a right to believe what they believe,” said Ghouse, adding that it was Jones’ right as an American to express himself. Others said that while Jones was free to say or do whatever he wanted, the people of Mulberry didn’t want the world to think that the residents condone or agree with Jones’ views.

“We don’t buy what Jones is selling,” said Polk County resident Butch Rahman.
“The Womb and the Woman is symbolic of the Earth, a Garden and the Sun. We were a thing not to be thought of while in a firm resting place (uterine wall) and then we developed stage after stage like a seed planted in the earth which feeds and nurtures until it burst forth and the unseen becomes seen…like flowers and plants…Then we cling and revolve around her (sun) soaking and bathing in her light and spiritual energy power and strength, growing and growing and all the while remaining in our orbit (place)…the power of her majesty forces the rotation (seasons/change) in us to endure the ladder of adversity that we must climb towards spiritual perfection and to build the temple for perfected man. Then, it is our turn to tend to her (garden) and pick the weeds out and to return the love, mercy and kindness (old age) and keep anything from harming it…communicate with it, water it, feed it and give it sun light (spiritual food), protect it so that we can continue to enjoy the fruits thereof…”
Sanender El Ameen
The proximity of the land of Arabia to Ethiopia lends itself to Arabia being the source of the first Cushitic inhabitants of Ethiopia. The location of Ethiopia just across the Red Sea from Arabia, and the long term coexistence of the nations in the Arabian Peninsula as evidence, may be added to the fact that the language of Ethiopia also originated in Arabia. Genesis says that migrants from Arabia carried into Ethiopia “a branch of the Semitic language, viz. the Ethiopic, which stands in the closest affinity with the old Himyaritic dialect of eastern Arabia.” The Greek Historian, Herodotus, says that in Xerxes’ international army, (about 450 B.C.), Arabians and Ethiopians were grouped together under one command. Perhaps this was due to language similarity.

The wide spread distribution of Cush in the ancient world described in the Bible is supported by Greek geographer Strabo and the “Father of History,” Herodotus, both of whom refer to eastern or Asian Cushites in India as having black skin and straight hair and western Cushites with similar skin color but “crispy” hair. Thus Jethro lived in the land of Cush in Arabia among other Ethiopians who had not yet completed migration to Ethiopia. He lived in Semitic Midian but he was not a Semite although he spoke a Semitic language.
** Eze. 27:20-24.
**Genesis, William; trans Robinson, Edw.; Hebrew and English Lexicon of the Old Testament; Houghton, Mifflin, Boston, 1882. Page 455.
**Herodotus, Book 7:70.

Further reference to Ethiopians of India as early as 800 to 1200 BC is found in the third paragraph of Homer’s Odyssey, Book I. Homer records the location of the Ethiopians as also divided in two parts at the extremes of the civilized world.. He says: “Now Neptune had gone off to the Ethiopians, who are at the world’s end, and lie in two halves, the one looking west and the other East.”
**Strabo, Geography: Book I: 2; 20-26 for a discussion (circa 40 B.C.) of the distribution of Ethiopians to the most remote extremes of the known world, i.e., south of Egypt and the farthest east. That those of Africa and Asia were physically similar see Geo. Book II: 3; 8.

Semitic descendants of Abraham, like Edom, and the Ishmaelite’s, as well as other Semites, afterward occupied almost all of the Arabian Peninsula. These Semitic tribes are now named Arabians due to their occupation of Arabia, although the name “Arabia” attached to the homeland predates their occupation of the site. In the same way the Anglo-Saxons who are known as Britons are a modern parallel to this kind of name expropriation. The Angles and Saxons were non-Britons who subdued and drove the Britons out of the land. The Anglo-Saxons occupied the Britons’ land and later took the name given to the land by those original inhabitants. Thus the Anglo-Saxons, although not Britons, are called British today. In the same way, Arabia may have been a Hamite name expropriated by a Semitic non-Arab second wave immigration which forced and continued the migratory flight of the Arabian Ethiopians to African Ethiopia.
** Herodotus; op. cit
RESURRECTION in the minds, hearts and Souls of your Ancient Egyptian Ancestors, as it was they who introduced the concept of ‘resurrection’ to humanity)…and syncretized these two aspects of Osiris’ nature and incarnated into the world one Asar-Apis, a new deity comprised of two very ancient aspects of the most ancient and revered God in Ancient Egypt (in Africa).

With all due respect Brother, Hebrew and Arabic/Syretic are the same language with different tones and pronunciation. The Word “Hebrew” has nothing to do with a person’s Religion as well as the Word “Arab/Arabic”. The word Hebrew was given to Abraham when the Canaanites saw him and his tribe crossing the Tigress / Euphrates River. It means “One who crosses over”. Arab means “to move about” Because the people of those times were Nomadic people. Secondly, there was never a “White Prophet” in the scriptures. Race deals with genetic composition not color or ethnicity/culture. Abraham had three wives (1) Sarah (2) Hagar & (3) Qeturah which are the progenitors of the three major Religions of the world. One father with three mothers.

Sarah gave birth to the Israelites (Isaac) Hagar gave birth to the Muslims (Ishmael) and Qeturah gave birth to the Christians by way of her son Midian. The evidence of this in the scriptures is when Yahshua/Jesus spoke to and informed the tribe of Judah (his own) and said “There are “other” sheep that I have and them too must I also gather together”. All three of these NATIONS come from the same sperm/gene of Abraham/Ibraheem therefore; they could not be of different “Races!” They were all family from different “TRIBES”. Allah states in the Qur’an “I MADE YOU INTO TRIBES AND FAMILIES THAT YOU MAY “KNOW’ ONE ANOTHER.”

The significance of Yahshua/Jesus, his origin and ministry:

Yahshua’s only purpose was to bring “prophecy” about things which must shortly come to pass. Yashua’s birth was unique in the respect that his father was one of the ELOHEEM/ALLAHUMA (the Archangel, Gabriel) who came to earth with the specific assignment to impregnate Miriam/Mary with a child of a dual nature, half Eloheem and half human. That’s why he, (Yahshua/Jesus) said “My spirit is willing but my flesh is weak” “I am from above and you are from down here” His Father was the Angelic being Jibrael, said Gabriel. The word God might confuse the unlearnt among us. The word god has its origin in the Germanic language which has its root in the word Good, Gut, Gud. It also means anything that has force and power in a person’s life that they bow-down to, worship or adore. Humans are Gods either a positive or negative because both forces have power. Yashua’s ministry was also to demonstrate the latent/dormant potential of his own people who had “lost their way (lost sheep) and were trying to look like and behave like the romans and Greeks instead of themselves. Just like we (Blacks) want to be like white people instead of ourselves…

FYI The word “African” is of Greek Origin. It means “to be divided” and is descriptive of what they did to the continent.

The most ancient beings on the planet with the longest history on the planet and has the shortest month to celebrate it. There is no beginning and no ending to the Blackman and woman. We were and always will be therefore, we are the “all” and can do anything we want as long as we remain in the all yet, we will fail as individuals. We are the makers, the owners, cream of the planet earth, mothers and fathers of civilization and the Gods of this universe. The other beings are our children who are exercising what we have taught them Brother!

We were hit over the head, sent on a westerly course and buried in a shallow grave and we need to be reminded because we have amnesia about the knowledge of self and are living the life of a beast and need to be civilized.

I, for one, have no desire to affiliate with groups of hatred, murder, and deceit. No man has the right to say what God thinks or believes – but I dare say, I do not believe that God would desire the support from such a creed; nor would he/she give or offer that support in return.

The evil-doers who would dare to deny the downtrodden of their God-given right to live and pursue a happy and fruitful life will soon face the plains and trials of purgatory. But they shall have time to offer penance and the forgiveness that can be gained by simply doing the right thing(s). Those persons who would horde the life giving goods of this Earth from those who share this in its gifts have time to repent their sins and support the movement to make all things right with the people. Its time has come. The time of deliverance from evil and the gift of love and goodness to all the things that should be shared by all of mankind.

Healthcare for all… Now and Forever!

From the day the ‘Tree of Knowledge’ was violated, every man-child from the first is born with the awareness of good and evil. I am therefore ‘Spiritual’ in my belief of the Holy Father for his/her Spirit is within me as it should be in you… The Spirit of The Lord.


‘The Spirit of The Soul and The Death of Morals”

“Article Posting Sites” */

“Service With A Smile”
A Grandmother's Dream_5.29.04
Gregory V. Boulware

Attention: “United States Postal Service and the Post Master General”
Re: Clerk # 5, Bill # 1000101477130, Olney, 4165410145 – 009, 1.800.275.8777
08.30.13, 10:58:16 AM – Postal Experience – – contact Maritz Research helpdesk at or call 1-888-878-7402, from 8:00 a.m. to 8 …

You may contact the postmaster general through email at or by calling the number 1-800-275-8777. This is the Washington DC headquarters.

A patron, Mr. Boulware, walked into the postal station to return an item to sender. He was the sole patron beside the one leaving after being served. The only available clerk summoned said patron to the service counter. Mr. Boulware approached the clerk and cordially greeted the clerk. There was no returned courtesy.

Mr. Boulware explained the need to return a package. He was served with no issue other than, “Would you like a receipt?” To which he replied, “Yes, thank you.” The first impression given by the clerk indicated that she did not wish to provide service to this customer. The sneering gestures and sour body language suggested an added credence to this belief. This encounter is not the first. I have witnessed this clerk’s rudeness to other patrons of this office, in the past, as well. She was rude and standoffish at this particular encounter too.

The second request by this customer was to retrieve a package that was un-delivered via the route carrier. The carrier is the regular service provider for the area residents. He almost regularly does not deliver packages to our Hillside Gardens Apartment, even when we are at home. The Clerk, identified as clerk #5, examined the orange colored package delivery notice and stated that my wife had signed the document in the wrong space. The space that was signed is provided for the receiving package retriever. Mr. Boulware asked the clerk what he was supposed to do now that the document was signed in the incorrect space. He indicated that he was in possession of valid identification for himself as well as his physically challenged spouse. Mr. Boulware is also a physically challenged Retired Senior Citizen – Social Security Disability recipient. The clerk, in a condescending tone, overruled his question by continuing to explain the incorrect signing of the document. “Listen Miss, I’m not your child and I am not hard of hearing, there is no need to speak to me in such a fashion!” said, Mr. Boulware.

The clerk responded with, “Well since you have an attitude problem, I’m not going to give you the package!”

“Look Ma’am, never mind the attitude just give me the package, that’s been here for more than three days, and I’ll go. I have all of the necessary ID’s! This woman is my wife; we reside at the same location, and have been married for nearly forty-years! I’m going to file a complaint report!”

The rude and discourteous clerk replied, “Go ahead, what makes you think that I care?” She turned her back and walked away. Then she returned and summoned the next customer, while I stood there waiting.

This type of so-called professional behavior is unconscionable, let alone rude behavior from a clerk of the United States Postal Service! Is this how they, the postal workers are supposed to treat its seniors and/or the general public? Are we as citizens supposed to support and accept this type of treatment from a mail service? I don’t think So…

The second clerk, a tall attractive woman, who wore glasses, appeared from a rear stock room. She patiently listened to what I had to say and took very good care of me. I left the store with the package.

She was and is a blessing!

Thank you for your attention to this matter.

Best regards,

Mr. Gregory V. Boulware

>>> | USPS Customer Experience Survey
January 27, 2012 2:46 am Filed Under: Uncategorized Leave a Comment

I can’t say I’m surprised that the USPS Customer Experience Survey does not provide a customer with a reward for taking the survey but I’m very disappointed. is powered by Maritz Research and is available in English and Spanish. If you recently visited your local post office recently please have the ZIP and the 4 digit code number printed at the top of the receipt ready to start the survey. The survey should only take around 5 minutes to complete and your answer will be kept confidential. If you don’t like the service at your local USPS tell them! Don’t be surprised if you mail starts to go missing however lol. The code number is located above the date and phone number on the receipt. I took the survey just for fun and it took me about 5 minutes. I will never take this survey again due to the lack of incentive.

The United States Postal Service is run by the United States Government and is in deep financial trouble. They have been laying off thousands of employees recently and they have even talked about stopping service on Saturdays. The Government regulates prices and how many days a week it must make deliveries and that is the problem. The Government should not be involved in Business. USPS troubles really started with the Al Gore. Al Gore invented this thing called the Internet that has made life very hard for the US Post Office. UPS and FedEx didn’t do the Post Office any favors either. It should be noted that every time I have shipped a package it is ALWAYS cheaper to send it through USPS. A 15 pound package cost me $91 through USPS, $135 through FedEx, and $139 through UPS. But the agency is still billions of dollars in debt and may be forced to shut down.

At any rate if you’re interested in taking the survey and helping out the postal service please visit
“Have They Made Us A Target For Vengeance?”


Speaking as an old ‘Union-Man’ from way back, who certainly believes in Union Now and Forever. I certainly can and do empathize with the postal workers position of battle and rebellion against the postal service. But does their plight warrant the mistreatment of postal customers?

I’ve received an alarming message today. The contents of the email gave me cause to wonder if my posting of the experience with a particular employee of the service, brought about a type of retaliation. A particular mail carrier was outlined in this report as well. Could it be possible for the two to become cohorts or in cahoots with a revenge plot of sorts? Maybe it’s the fantasy writer within me that constantly slaps me with a new story of suspense.

I would advise against such behavior if it be such. An ending is final if not ubiquitous. On occasion, one can wreak havoc on his or her world with one or two simple mistakes or a misunderstanding.

I think you’ll get a better understanding of what’s happened with this email example:

Subject: Non-Received Registration Renewal
Message: 9.19.13 – PENNDOT email message:

After purchasing my renewed PA registration for my mini-van on 8.25.13, I waited patiently for its arrival. It never came. This is the second time in four years that this has happened. The first time it never arrived, I assumed it had been stolen via the postal service. I had to go to a tag service center to have it replaced!

I now, once again, find myself in the same dilemma.

I did not receive my new registration. I have the receipt of our transaction pasted to the rear of my vehicle in order to get to my doctor visits. When will I receive my registration documents?

Thank you kindly for the receipt of this message.


Mr. Gregory V. Boulware
To: “‘’”
Sent: Friday, September 20, 2013 5:26 PM
Subject: RE: Non-Received Registration Renewal

Thank you for contacting Driver and Vehicle Services.

Our records indicate that your registration renewal was processed 08/25/2013, as you indicated. We attempted to mail your registration materials; however, this mailing was returned to us as undeliverable by the post office. To ensure the renewal card and sticker are sent to the proper address, please respond with your complete mailing address (including street address and PO Box/Apt#, if applicable) and the make/year of the vehicle.

Upon receiving your response, I will update your address, if needed, and resend the registration card and sticker.

When responding, please include all previous e-mail.
Please do not send attachments, as these cannot be opened or processed at this location.

Thank you for your inquiry,

Brandon Miller

PA Department of Transportation

Personal information has been removed from this e-mail for your protection.
Mr. Miller:

Thank you Brandon for your attention and prompt response. The postal service in this area leaves much to be desired as the service is unacceptable. We have had problems with the postal service ever since we have moved to this location. We have resided here for nearly one year. Several other respondents have cited the same conclusions as to our whereabouts. We have complained to no avail.

The proper and precise address is:

Gregory V. Boulware
Personal information has been removed from this e-mail for your protection.

Looking forward to the delivery of my vehicle documents…

Again, I thank you for your attention as well as your prompt and courteous response.

Best regards,

The enclosed text should clarify the suspicions involving undelivered mail and/or the possibility of retaliatory intent due to a customer complaint. Maybe I’m being a little bit cynical. I’d like to think that it’s just a fluke. But just in case it’s not…

“Pride is good as opposed to ‘Over-Pride’ is not, it equals Arrogance.
Over-Pride is non-productive. It lends credence to foolishness…
Over-Pride is seductive to anger; the wrong type of anger!
Revenge can be momentarily sweet while leaning on the tree to the pathway of doom.”

“The most difficult thing – but an essential one is to love life, to love life even while one suffers, because life is all. Life is God and to love life means to love God.”
Tolstoy, War and Peace
There is absolutely no place in the service industry for rude and discourteous behavior. It would behoove the service provider as well as the service industry worker to improve on this notion of “I’m having a bad day, so I’ll take it out on whomever crosses my path!” They, (we), must remain courteous to all no matter what the circumstances. Would you want your elderly Parents or Grandparents to become subject to a rude and discourteous person? I think not… I would certainly be on the front line to defend the honor and rights of my Elders…they do not deserve ill-mannered treatment by anyone! Have they not paid enough in this life? After all it takes quite a bit of courage to become a senior in this life. Would you not agree?

Til next time…



“Article Posting Sites”


“Ninety and Five”
“Christians (of all faiths) should be taught that they purchase indulgences voluntarily, and are not under obligation to do so!”


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