FREEDOM OR ANARCHY,Campaign of Conscience.

Joseph F Barber | Create Your Badge
This blog does not promote, support, condone, encourage, advocate, nor in any way endorse any racist (or "racialist") ideologies, nor any armed and/or violent revolutionary, seditionist and/or terrorist activities. Any racial separatist or militant groups listed here are solely for reference and Opinions of multiple authors including Freedom or Anarchy Campaign of conscience.

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We provide Veteran, IN NEED WE PROVIDE FOOD ,CLOTHING,HOUSEING AND TRANSPORTATION TO AND FROM SCHOOL OR WORK,AS WELL AS LEGAL AND MEDICAL ASSISTANCE, IT IS OUR SINCERE HOPES THAT THE LOVE AND COMPASSION SHOWN THROUGH THE HEARTS AND COMPASSION OF THOSE WHO ASSIST IN THIS INDEVORE TO HELP YOUNG MEN AND WOMEN STAND FREE AND INDEPENDENT FROM THE THINGS THAT BROUGHT THEM TO OUR LIVES IS DONE SO THEY CAN LEAD PRODUCTIVE LIVES WITH FAITH AND FAMILY VALUES THEY SEE IN OUR OWN HOMES AS We SHARE OUR LIVES WITH THESE AND MANY YOUNG MEN & WOMEN.WE believe that to meet the challenges of our times, human beings will have to develop a greater sense of universal responsibility. Each of us must learn to work not just for one self, one's own family or one's nation, but for the benefit of all humankind. Universal responsibility is the key to human survival. It is the best foundation for world peace

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Not For Profit - For Global Justice and The Fight to End Violence & Hunger world wide - Since 1999
"Liberty cannot be preserved without a general knowledge among the people" - John Adams - Second President - 1797 - 1801

This is the callout,This is the call to the Patriots,To stand up for all the ones who’ve been thrown away,This is the call to the all citizens ,Stand up!
Stand up and protect those who can not protect themselves our veterans ,the homeless & the forgotten take back our world today


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Become A Supporting member of humanity to help end hunger and violence in our country,You have a right to live. You have a right to be. You have these rights regardless of money, health, social status, or class. You have these rights, man, woman, or child. These rights can never be taken away from you, they can only be infringed. When someone violates your rights, remember, it is not your fault.,


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FREEDOM OR ANARCHY,Campaign of Conscience

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The Free Thought Project,The Daily Sheeple & FREEDOM OR ANARCHY Campaign of Conscience are dedicated to holding those who claim authority over our lives accountable. “Each of us has a unique part to play in the healing of the world.”
“Every record has been destroyed or falsified, every book rewritten, every picture has been repainted, every statue and street building has been renamed, every date has been altered. And the process is continuing day by day and minute by minute. History has stopped. Nothing exists except an endless present in which the Party is always right.” - George Orwell, 1984

"Until the philosophy which holds one race superior and another inferior is finally and permanently discredited and abandoned, everywhere is war and until there are no longer first-class and second-class citizens of any nation, until the color of a man's skin is of no more significance than the color of his eyes. And until the basic human rights are equally guaranteed to all without regard to race, there is war. And until that day, the dream of lasting peace, world citizenship, rule of international morality, will remain but a fleeting illusion to be pursued, but never attained... now everywhere is war." - - Haile Selassie I of Ethiopia - Popularized by Bob Marley in the song War

STEALING FROM THE CITIZENRY

The right to tell the Government to kiss my Ass Important Message for All Law Enforcers Freedom; what it is, and what it is not. Unadulterated freedom is an unattainable goal; that is what the founders of America knew and understood, which was their impetus behind the documents that established our great nation. They also knew that one of the primary driving forces in human nature is the unconscious desire to be truly free. This meant to them that mankind if totally left completely unrestricted would pursue all things in life without any awareness or acknowledgement of the consequences of his/her own actions leaving only the individual conscience if they had one as a control on behavior. This would not bode well in the development of a great society. Yet the founders of America chose to allow men/women as much liberty as could be, with minimum impact on the freedom or liberties of others

Friday, May 20, 2016

Prolonged Period In The Pokey

Headed for three ‘hots’, a cot, and a prolonged period in the pokey

Prolonged Period In The Pokey

I wish Dad had caught me swiping his pistol; he didn’t. It was a beauty, a Military High-Standard .22 caliber. All I wanted to do was “borrow” it so that I could enjoy slaughtering rats with a bunch of other gun-loving students at the garbage dump located several miles from the small town that was home to the university we attended.
We’d meet late in the day, about the time the rats began their nightly forays among the putrefying flotsam, and hide behind a clump of bushes within pistol range of our victims, the population of which could only be described as swarming hordes.
We took turns shooting and kept score, determined by such things as how many misses we registered, how many clean kills we scored, and how many rats we wounded that were able to drag away, only to be feasted upon later by their fellow garbage gastronomes.
It was great fun while it lasted, which was almost the whole semester, but finally someone reported us.
As I pulled into the dormitory one Friday night, a waiting policeman searched the car and found the pistol. Instead of showering, slipping into fresh duds and picking up my girlfriend at the appointed time, I was handcuffed and carted off to jail.
The next morning, I had a visitor — the Dean of Men!
“I’ve arranged your release, but you’ll stand trial for unauthorized possession of a firearm. Furthermore, I called your father, and he is absolutely furious.”
Mama’s phone call didn’t help.
“Son,” she wailed, “Your father and I saved for years to pay for your education, and now the Dean informs us that you’ve repaid our efforts by killing rats instead of studying.”
In line with several hardened hoodlums, I entered the courtroom to stand before The Honorable Ruth Runyon, known as “Ruthless Ruth.”
Sitting between Dad and the Dean, I agonized while Ruthless meted out harsh sentences to my predecessors. Then the bailiff called my name.
“Young man,” Judge Runyon intoned in a stentorian voice that, I imagined, had been the death knell of many ne’er-do-wells now rotting in the state penitentiary, “you are a disgrace to your family, this city, and the university. How do you plead?”
In a barely audible voice I whispered, “Guilty.” 
The fine was bad enough — repaying Dad would require a summer of slaving in his cotton fields, but the judge saved the double whammy for last.
“The pistol you stole from your father has been permanently confiscated.”
Dad went livid. It had been one of his prized possessions since his World War II service.
Outside the courthouse, Dad said to the Dean, “Sir, if you choose to let my son remain at the university, that’s your business. I’ll say this, though. Had the judge chosen to return my pistol and had she sentenced this rat-killing thug to do time for a gun crime, you wouldn’t have to choose. He’d be headed for three ‘hots’, a cot, and a prolonged period in the pokey.”


Headed for three ‘hots’, a cot, and a prolonged period in the pokey

Prolonged Period In The Pokey

I wish Dad had caught me swiping his pistol; he didn’t. It was a beauty, a Military High-Standard .22 caliber. All I wanted to do was “borrow” it so that I could enjoy slaughtering rats with a bunch of other gun-loving students at the garbage dump located several miles from the small town that was home to the university we attended.
We’d meet late in the day, about the time the rats began their nightly forays among the putrefying flotsam, and hide behind a clump of bushes within pistol range of our victims, the population of which could only be described as swarming hordes.
We took turns shooting and kept score, determined by such things as how many misses we registered, how many clean kills we scored, and how many rats we wounded that were able to drag away, only to be feasted upon later by their fellow garbage gastronomes.
It was great fun while it lasted, which was almost the whole semester, but finally someone reported us.
As I pulled into the dormitory one Friday night, a waiting policeman searched the car and found the pistol. Instead of showering, slipping into fresh duds and picking up my girlfriend at the appointed time, I was handcuffed and carted off to jail.
The next morning, I had a visitor — the Dean of Men!
“I’ve arranged your release, but you’ll stand trial for unauthorized possession of a firearm. Furthermore, I called your father, and he is absolutely furious.”
Mama’s phone call didn’t help.
“Son,” she wailed, “Your father and I saved for years to pay for your education, and now the Dean informs us that you’ve repaid our efforts by killing rats instead of studying.”
In line with several hardened hoodlums, I entered the courtroom to stand before The Honorable Ruth Runyon, known as “Ruthless Ruth.”
Sitting between Dad and the Dean, I agonized while Ruthless meted out harsh sentences to my predecessors. Then the bailiff called my name.
“Young man,” Judge Runyon intoned in a stentorian voice that, I imagined, had been the death knell of many ne’er-do-wells now rotting in the state penitentiary, “you are a disgrace to your family, this city, and the university. How do you plead?”
In a barely audible voice I whispered, “Guilty.” 
The fine was bad enough — repaying Dad would require a summer of slaving in his cotton fields, but the judge saved the double whammy for last.
“The pistol you stole from your father has been permanently confiscated.”
Dad went livid. It had been one of his prized possessions since his World War II service.
Outside the courthouse, Dad said to the Dean, “Sir, if you choose to let my son remain at the university, that’s your business. I’ll say this, though. Had the judge chosen to return my pistol and had she sentenced this rat-killing thug to do time for a gun crime, you wouldn’t have to choose. He’d be headed for three ‘hots’, a cot, and a prolonged period in the pokey.”




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