Wednesday, August 9, 2017

The Olmec: when black, white, yellow and red men traveled together, 1000 years before Christ by Ken LaRive

The Olmec: When black, white, yellow and red men traveled together... 
           By: Ken La Rive

I called my friend Keith MaClean The Englishman, and he called me The Madman, and it had nothing to do with the noon-day sun. He was prim and proper, optimistic and trusting, and I looked for the potential for trouble everyplace we went. I know for a fact I saved us twice, once from a man on the street at two in the morning asking for a light, and another when Keith was having some kind of panic attack when there was an agricultural road block. Men with guns wanted to spray our tires to inhibit a coconut disease, and he would not stop the car. I had to yell in his face to wake him up, and as he rolled his window down, a man sprayed him in the face with that poison, or whatever it was. After that he said nothing when I bought and carried three switchblades...

We visited an open-air museum in the middle of Villahermosa on our way back from Palenque.  With a borrowed camera, as mine had been confiscated by Pemex employees with machine guns, I took several rolls of film with Keith's 35mm. His got his through because he lied about having it, and I'm so glad he didn't get caught. He would still be in a Mexican prison, and more than likely I would have been considered his accomplice.  Keith had been all around the world as a Mud Engineer just like me, but how he survived is anyone's guess... He was smart in many other ways, however, like he could drive ambidextrously, speak five languages, and out drink me... but his most notable talent was his infectious sense of English humor... and just a look from him would send me into convulsions. We made a good team, and not once did he ever gripe about not getting enough sleep, drinking too much, or how hot it was, as I reckon no woman could have made it an hour with us. 

                Nope, not even Maddy could have taken the heat...

The Villahermosa Olmec open air museum

I didn’t know at the time what the significance of these heads would be until I actually got back to Crowley.  There, by the direction of my friend Ms. Mier with the Acadia Public Library, I was able to gather information that led to not only some very unusual facts, but an actual revelation.

This particular head, above, was found on the Mexican coastline in a swamp called La Venta.  It was transported, all 28 spectacular sculptures of this sort, to a museum built to house them in Villahermosa.  They were in danger because the Mexican Oilfield struck oil on the site and was actually in the process of plowing it under in the quest.  The insensitive lack of respect for Mayan and Olmec culture is most despicable, and if it weren’t for the concern of brave archeologists who banded together running to the site, a lot of it would have been gone forever. They were actually able to cut through the bureaucratic red tape, which was a monumental feat in itself! We can all remember (each in our own way), that same bureaucratic red tape it took to get our boys out of Mexico last year. *I make note here of the five boys from Crowley who spent a month in a Mexican prison for crossing over the border with guns. They had been hunting, and got tied up in traffic with no place to turn around. It all went well, but that is another story...

No one knows for certain whom the Olmecs actually were, or where they came from.  People seemingly appeared on this most inhospitable site, from the sea, somewhere around 800 BC.  They were an advanced civilization, and able to etch out an existence, even to flourish for another 600 years, on an island in the middle of a swamp at the base of the Yucatan. It is truly amazing!  

Villahermousa Square where the man wanted a light... Not the same at 2 am.

It was first thought that these heads were carved to represent an Olmec god, who they venerated as half-human.  They did this animal-man blend also with every powerful animal in the area.  But most anyone who studies these heads today agrees that those expressive full lips, alert eyes, and the leather helmet, clearly shows the round face and high cheeks of a Negro. Then there were other large carvings found there with typical Caucasian features, with the long noises and full beards of that race. The slanted eyes of orientals were also represented, as shown below. As you probably know, the American Indian did not, and could not grow a proper beard of this sort... and it is now believed that these men were traveling together, and that these particular statues depicted either warriors or champions of the Olmec Ball Game. 

It was the Olmecs who brought the games that were played by the Mayans, Toltecs, Mextexs, the Aztecs, and all cultures in one form or another throughout Mexico, some 2500 years later. “The Long Count Calendar” which is the most accurate system ever devised (until this century), was based on observations of the sun for an extended period of time, first appeared with the Olmec. This calendar is so unusual that I will have to talk about it again.

And then there is the “time capsule” that was found ritualistically buried there. It took a great effort to design and produce, and even more to hide it. And why? Precious and semi-precious stones made a floor for a group of small statues and monoliths that tell the story of a culture’s beginning and reason for being.

When (Red) China finally opened its doors to the outside world, a famous oriental scholar was able to travel to Villahermosa, asking to view these precious artifacts.  He determined that indeed it was ancient Chinese writing. What was going on here? We may never know all of it, but what is being found is fascinating, and shows the unconquerable spirit of men.  It also shows that what we are as men is mostly forgotten, and somewhat misunderstood.  There is no doubt that we are great now, but we must also realize that we were great then too, as the same powerful adventure spirit that pounds in our hearts was put there by them!  Knowing this, we can forge a brave new world, and a grand future of light and promise.  Let us make our children’s children proud, found to be men of pure insight and vision, which made their world a better place.

Systematic annihilation of Maya history mimics our own by Ken LaRive

Palenque, 2005

Systematic annihilation of Maya history mimics our own               By: Ken La Rive

I’m not an archeologist, but sometimes think I should have been. I enjoy a good mystery, and I have grown to believe that history, as it is now taught, is biased, and probably just plain lies. A culture should be exceptionally careful to record and teach history accurately, and for a lot of reasons. Reading Orwell’s 1984 explained it to me... that history is written by the victor, and in that process, truth is probably gone forever. There is no better way to appreciate the bare bones of history than to travel with an open mind and adventure spirit. There, truth will present itself, if you are looking... and know this, without a truthful history, a culture has no way of seeing the future, or find roots in the past. Without a truthful history, a culture soon dies, and is easily controlled.  What happened here in the Americas is a testament to what is occurring today, as a top heavy and powerful government is rewriting history, and teaching our children.

In the Communication’s department at Loyola University, I was force-fed religious study and a dialogue (discussion) class every semester.  At the time I was pulling my hair out, but later in life I realized just how relevant it was in my everyday life, and also just what it means to be a human being in a world of lies and deceit. 

I’m sure you will agree that it is difficult to see where you are going if you have forgotten, or are being lied too, about where you have come from.  I think that some of the problems we are having in this society are directly the result of this...  the destruction of our heritage. My father told me that I should try and learn from his mistakes, as in that way I would be a whole lot further along. I see that now.  The comparative study of religion and civilization opened doors to my thinking, and first stimulated my interest in Archeology, and the Maya.

The Englishman and the madman explores Palenque, Chapas. Keith Mac Clean and Ken La Rive (the author) 2006. In our hotel bar, Villahermousa.

Speculation as to who built the pyramids in Egypt has remained a mystery no matter how much we dig and probe.  Some things are just out of the realm of memory.  So too is the Maya also wrapped in a shroud of mystery.  What stimulated these many civilizations around the globe? Within the same approximate time period they produced amazing grand structures, and complex societies that are strikingly similar, both then and now. 

Did you know that the great flood found in the Christian bible is also found in some form or another in nearly every culture around the world? Monuments were built around the world that precisely aligned with the north and south poles, the equinox of the sun, the phase of the moon and planets, that took a great deal of accurate observation, with instruments mostly lost to time.  

Surely you would think that we could duplicate it today! But how do you move giant blocks up a cliff face without leaving a scratch?  How to you build pyramids in America without the use of a draft animal for hauling, a metal cutting tool, a compass, or the invention of the wheel?  What has been found here in the Americas is just as astounding as what was going on in North Africa, Europe, China, and the Mediterranean at the same time. There was something astounding and complex manifesting itself here, and that something is still a mystery. 

It is interesting to note that the peak of the Maya culture, as found in Mexico’s Yucatan, Tabasco, Campeche, Guatemala and Honduras, actually fell 600 years before the Spanish Conquistadors and Catholic Priests showed up on the Mexican shore.  What remained, The Aztec, was painfully absorbed, influenced, or completely destroyed by the Spanish greed for gold, land, and the spread of it's moral dogma. Conquest was easy for two reasons. One: Montezuma virtually opened the gates to Cortez because he thought he was the incarnation of a man who had become a legend in Chitzen Itza hundreds of years before. A man named Kulkukan, who had influenced the culture with new ideas and architecture... attempting to change the Mayan steadfast tradition of human sacrifice.

Kulkukan was a great leader, a Toltec who had come to this strange Mayan land from the sea. Initially, he volunteered to be thrown into the cenoti, where, if you survived, was pulled out to tell of your experiences talking to the gods as you plunged deep into the dark water. He was a sailor, and so a good swimmer... When he wall pulled out by ropes, he was quickly asked what he had seen, and he was recorded to have said: "Yes, I have spoken to the gods, and they told me I am to be your leader." And he surely was... a white man with a beard...

With time, the Smoking Mirror faction of priests had him expelled from the city, but as he and his followers left, he promised he would return, as was found in what was left of the written history of the Aztec.

Montezuma, the Aztec ruler at the time of the Spanish invasion, interpreted these texts before Cortes had actually appeared, and when a runner came and told him of the white men with beards, who were riding animals, both as predicted, he was shaken to the core.  Because of this revelation, he virtually opened the gates to Cortes and his hundred or so men.  Secondly: Nine out of ten people were already dead from smallpox, influenza, and measles shortly after first contact. These Mayans were not immune to European diseases, and it was a horrible way to go.  Try to put that into perspective here in the U.S.?  How in the world could we fend off an aggressor with so much of the population gone?  It is amazing that the Mayans were able to take a stand at all.  Indeed, they did, but with the Spaniard’s more sophisticated weaponry they were able to impose their own “Spanish Order,” in a very short time, spreading this plague into South America, annihilating the Inca to the south, and the many tribes of Indians well up into Canada and Alaska, as well.

Home of the Jaguar, Chapas

In the fervor to change ideas, a Catholic Priest burned Mayan and Aztec books in great piles, while the indigenous populations lamented and cried out in the streets.  It was known that indeed, not only their heritage, but also their very way of life was going up in those flames, as anyone who opposed them were quickly put to death. One has to wonder what questions could have been answered, from their medicinal revelations to historical records?  There may have been something there that could have cured the common cold, a cure for cancer, or possibly nothing at all, but we will never know will we? Priceless golden artifacts were melted down into ingots, just to save space on the great galleons that carried it back to the church/state of Spain.  I mention this because six hundred years is indeed a long time, especially in a tropical environment where it takes little time for something organic to decay.  So the greatest majority of what was learned, Mayan knowledge, is probably lost forever.  Mayan priests kept libraries to safeguard this knowledge, but only four authentic books have survived to this date.  Hopefully, more are yet to be discovered.  There are a lot of caves in Yucatan, and scientists speculate that there may be a cache hidden, like the Dead Sea Scrolls.  I’d like to think so.   

                         Swimming the Mayan Aqueduct

Of course, everything is usually justified in the minds of those doing the dealing. The Aztec, one of the predecessors of the Maya, was thought by the Spaniards to be primitive and barbaric heathens. The Mayas did indeed practiced human sacrifice, but what comparison could be found between what was practiced in the Inquisition of that time? Montezuma was bludgeoned to death, his city and fields burned. The shedding of human blood is after all, just that.

There is so much of interest that I couldn’t scratch the surface of what the Maya were, and are today.  If you want to further study these fascinating people, read “The Maya” by Michael D. Coe, or just search “Maya” or “Lancondon” on the Internet. For a controversial and speculative book, but very stimulating, by Maurice Cotterell and Adrian Gilbert, read “The Mayan Prophecies.” It gives a comparison of world cultures that is amazing in its similarities.  Interesting aspects I will write about in the future is, The Olmec Heads, The Mayan Long Count Calendar, The Crystal Skull, The Lid of Palenque, and Transatlantic Traditions. Also, I have a poem published called “Lancondon” in a new book by Brett Axel called “Will Work For Peace: New Political Poems.”

Author's note: I was quite excited to find out that the Museum of the America was located just a block from my hotel in Madrid, and I excitedly traveled there the first day to see a Codex displayed. Unfortunately they were having a renovation on that floor, and it was blocked from visitation. Amazing that they can now charge money to Americans to view what they stole. 

The following are two poems written while exploring Mexico. 


You draw my heart to you with hooks, oh
Lancondon of selva. The last percent of humanity that
resists the Spanish fly of Chiapas under a thatched roof and
a barking dog. Where first there was laid that maggot
parasite of twisted Catholic processes, who still feed
on the wounds of their own creation. You were scourged and
mangled into oppression, but still remained resistant. 

That island of pure Mayan blood, the last five hundred, that is
the soul of Chiapus, still singing the jaguar song.

They thought your back was broken. By the heat of
white fever virus, by the heat of countless deaths in
the name of gold, by the heat of your burned books,
codex's, and hopes, all for the exchange of dogmatic truths…
and what of the drug lord? Still you cling to what you find
was never lost inside. 

What keeps you so?

Deep in la selva you drag your chains to be heard. Your
diamond patched frocks over eagle motifs still cling to the
great wheel of you ancestors. That long count calendar mark
the days by cycles of concentric spirals, repeating. You were connected with the past, a long past, and a future they say ends in 2006…

Do you ring in the new age by example? Where is your strength to survive?
The rain forest echoes of La Ruta: of DDT and AIDS,
of PEMEX trucks on mud rut roads, of coffee, banana, sorghum,cocoa and chicloros, tobacco, the filtered jewels of marijuana and coke plantations; of alcoholism and tuberculosis, malnutrition and cattle carrying parasites... 

Hachakyum, help you! “Tengo mi pistola, me mota, y mis
huevos. Entiendes mendez?

Trucha! Yo estoy hecha de otro arbol! Your hooks are deep in my swelling heart… Hide, oh Lancondon. Hide in la silva! Survive Zapatistas, and the Mexican Army. Hide from absorption, hide from genocide!

Flower King

Remember Toltec, “Feathered Serpent”,
From the setting sun his armies rent.
Taste victory cries in Nahua tongue,
From Tula to Chechen Itza won.

Kulkulkan’s flower, a jaded throne,
With feathers, of science, and of stone,
He swept his art upon the land,
And created with a civil hand.

Caracol followed Venus’ path,
And turned away god’s bloody wrath.
The cenote cleared of jaguar red,
Starved for the sacrifice it fed.

But the rift of “Smoking Mirror” blood,
Made more empty gods of sand and mud.
In offering precious lives of men,
A codex of terra-cotta ken.

He tried to quench the bonds of fear,
With sweetened flowers, of virgin tears.
Image, given by children of corn,
From Tula, where gentle gods were born.

Reflecting a “Smoking Mirror” core,
Obsidian demanded blood once more.
Hearts were rent from captive cries,
And again held beating to the skies.

Tezcatlipoca wrest his flower king,
And Quetzalcoatl fled on eastern wing.
His ideal lived long on legend’s bard,
And returned by steel of Cortes sword.

Pure Maya blood, on stucco glyphs,
Formed by constellation shifts.
Yucatan ruins in jungle jade,
For furious gods of blood well paid.


Monday, August 7, 2017

Betrayed by the racket of War by Ken LaRive

 "Get over the idea that only children should spend their time in study. Be a student so long as you still have something to learn, and this will mean all your life." ~Henry L. Doherty

The year was 1969 when I left home... just 19 when I got my first look at the USS Kitty Hawk in a Bremerton Washington dry dock. I knew little about the workings of the world back then, and as I looked over the rail in my new dress blues, I saw that metal titan braced by great chocks, polished and painted for another leviathan assignment, the West Pacific and Vietnam. Below, between the hull and a 250 foot wall of cement platforms, lit by great portable lights on wheels... and the flicker of welding arcs, men moved together as one unit. One unit to get this huge task done... One unit of American servicemen, and my new brothers.

I didn't own a camera back then, but the spectacle I saw there, and the next two years as well, is indelibly imprinted on my mind. I grew up on that ship, and it jump-started my need to know and understand the workings of my world by both an education of my doing, and the happenstance of experience. And yet, even after all of these years I have come to realize how much is still hidden from view, and how very little facts, and truth, are actually known to me. But one thing I have grown to realize above all else, and without a doubt... I have been played, as we were, I think, to the very last man.

I only recognized the thin green ribbon of Vietnam three times on the horizon, twice during the daytime and once at night by a cluster of lights. But I couldn't see it right off... it was the flash and pan of some incendiary bomb that first caught my eye, the hot-white and gold of napalm. I knew, most likely, that people were suffering and dying there, and close enough, I thought, to possibly hear their screams... but I felt the concision of those blasts 50 miles away... And I was in awe. Awe, because I was just a little pawn in a machine so big I didn't even have the ability to ask a proper question... and the world beyond my little microcosm seemed more a dream, a dark dream, a nightmare.

I had indeed enlisted, and one would think that some form of responsibility would have embedded itself in my heart. Empathy perhaps, but I knew then as I know now, that the responsibility for my actions were not my own. I had enlisted without choice, 57 on the draft. And I knew even then, and without a doubt... that if I had not enlisted in the Navy, I would have died with a gun in my hand. I would have died, without the remote understanding as to why... as so many of my countrymen have.

At the time I thought we were fighting an ideal called Communism. And today I say with the utmost disgust...that what is now in the White House (shadow government) is the same as any Communistic dictatorship we have ever thought to fight against... and it is found on both sides of the isle. To me, these men are traitors. These men are bought and paid for, and they care little or nothing for the standard of America, or the lives lost. President Trump seems to be our last stand against an external power, an international banking consortium, a leviathan called the military industrial complex, a Hollywood and Media Progressive mindset Powerful countries promote their own interests by lobbyists and un-elected officials with duel citizenship pull the strings behind the screens. We have the fat tick called the Federal Reserve System, who has brought us to financial ruin, from 6 to 12 trillion in just ten years... and above all law, unaccountable to anyone, even the president, or congress... Truly, they own us...

Part one

With 24-7 flight ops, we had plenty of opportunity to witness the events unfolding, even by the mail that pored over my desk as the Captain's yeoman. But my understanding of it was limited and misunderstood, and the redundant elements soon became normal to me, running through my mind as vivid as yesterday... For instance, just prior to landing, each and every jet would dump their extra fuel, and whatever was left of the bomb-payload as well. I have never witnessed this happening, but saw the effects... a rainbow glistening on a azure crystal-clear Tonkin Golf, by a layer of JP-5 jet fuel floating on its surface as far as the eye could see in any direction. What a shimmer as the sun set, and the trails of flying fish as their wings touched the surface is haunting... and I still see that sea turtle with blind-white eyes... But a spectacular event, never reported by the news, was the 10 hour mistake of dumping oil, a 140 mile swath that could have been visible from space, and blamed on a seaman not paying attention, and a broken valve...

Part two

I remember the never-ending bomb-handling working parties who wrote hate-filled graffiti on the casings... but then, the line of fifty men handing off what was called broken electronics was an amazing thing to see as they were thrown over the side... hundred and hundreds of televisions, and circuit boards of every description, old electronic inserts handed one to another from deep in the ship's interior... And from the after brow, countless bags and containers of trash were dumped into a churning florescent line that disappeared over the horizon... the exact same place a crewman had committed suicide... a man who could not fit in.

The above thoughts are meant to illustrate that the military is beyond control, beyond comprehension and understanding, and beyond any human law or moral compass by the average person... Looking back at my immediate supervisors, I really don't think they had even a remedial grasp of the reality of that venture, even the hard-core lifers... None of my bosses ever mentioned any doubt or concern for what we were doing, but that there was a growing amount of traitorous fools who were protesting back home. Some of them were even fleeing to Canada. But my piers were another matter...they had a mixed bag of thoughts, with some saying they were cowards, and others heroes... but I, at the time, could not emphatically make up my mind one way or the other. I just wanted to become a man. And, yes, I wanted to go home.
I know now that America's wars are not, and never were designed to bring so-called "democracy," but corporate profit. It is a racket. It isn't used for the defense of freedom anywhere, though that is used as the primary justification. It is bound only to the interests of the power elite, corporatism, and their bottom line.

 In 1931, Marine Major General Smedley Darlington Butler retired. He is one of only 19 Marines in U.S. history to ever receive two Congressional Medals of Honor... and he opened the door to a world that few knew anything about: that corporations control our congress, and orchestrate war for unbelievable profit. A profit that is generated from the bottom up and the top down, from thousands of contractors and international corporations, to a banking cartel in league with the Federal Reserve... and what he described back then has grown exponentially. He saw from the eyes of a true leader of conscience, with the honor of a patriot, that the primary motivations and intentions of the military industrial complex, and the scope of its amazing power over our country, is for their own good only, with no regard for consequence. 
Today, America pays more to support a military then the top ten largest countries rolled into one, with money printed out of thin air... and amazingly, we are building up our forces... Our children are straddled with a debt that can never be paid, 20.2 trillion... And this sum is so great that more money has to be printed, as needed, to pay the interest. A sum so great, and yet, few Americans can see it, as 10.3 trillion of that 20.3 trillion was added under Obama's watch, and 4 trillion under Bush Junior. Unsecured money printed out of thin air, on the back of America's future, and all of it unaccountable. 

No way do I consider myself un-America, or anti-American. I have, in good faith, paid my taxes, given my time to what I thought was the defense of Freedom and Liberty, as I also have taken an oath to protect and defend the Constitution of the United States from all enemies both domestic and foreign... I do not take that oath lightly. And as I have lived long enough to see recurring trends... I am concerned not only by the constant and unrelenting destruction of earth and its people carried out in the name of my government, the government I have sponsored... But it is the same entity that has lied to me, used me as cattle and pawn, for the false promotion of freedom and liberation. A government, bought and paid for by corporations.

The so-called Progressive government we now have in place, without a shred of doubt, is controlled and manipulated from an outside force beyond our borders, and so too is the Right. It is all a charade... It is a force so powerful, they can crush the mind and spirit of a person or a country, bankrupt or promote our economy on a whim, enslave us in a debt, and have us participate, unwittingly, in constant and unrelenting war for reasons unknown to us, while we wave our precious flag... a flag that they themselves abhorred. Yes, it is a war without end, open ended, with an undefined and nebulous enemy without a face or uniform, and physiologically designed.

Since WW2, America is less safe and more hated than ever before. And as we have seen a tremendous proliferation in military spending and unconstitutional ventures, we participate in one act of violence after another... And of all the interventionism, the imperialism around the world, what good has come of it for America? Have we ever promoted our Republic based on law? No, and the reason is a simple one. 

Those so-called elitists, those few men who actually pull the strings of war and its reconstruction, do not like our civil liberties. They do not like our Constitution. They do not like our Republic based on law, and why? Because those primary elements, the elements that made America the freest and most prosperous country in the world, gets in the way of their profit, their control. Instead, they will milk us dry by increments, eating at us from the inside out, like a cancer. And we are so trusting, our spirits so honorable, we would send our sons and daughters to risk their lives for unanswered questions and lies.

Have we promoted free trade? Have we promoted peace and security for the world? Have we promoted anything that can be emulated but more death? No, and just the opposite... with a failing economy and a dying middle class, a welfare state who have learned to milk the system, our private communications compromised, due process abolished by constitutional dis-membership, coerced by the NDAA and Patriot Act... and a growing top heavy government that is vying to control every aspect of our lives... And then, let me reemphasize, we have men with duel citizenship controlling our congress by bribes, taboo, and fear, and international corporations who profit in destruction and reconstruction are beyond the law and any Christian moral compass... and as new nations come under their dominion, our workers, our industry, our American exceptionalism, our creativity is given to them, as slave labor. And if any country opposes them, they are singled out for immediate destruction, and from a wide variety of methods...
And the ultimatum is simple, a central bank, or death, so choose... and in the process, our men die on foreign shores, with the same trust I had at 19... A trust betrayed by the false flag of the Tonkin Gulf incident. And as I reflect, history is rewritten, ideals and ideologies redesigned, and truth is no longer distinguishable from an outright lie, fed to us by a controlled media. 

When we left Vietnam, when our WestPac tour was over, we were escorted not only by Russian spy boats, by a Bear so big our fighter planes looked like dots under its wings. It seemed like a game, a game played with the lives of good and honorable men, trusting men of virtue. And it left me with an empty feeling... A feeling a slave must have as he sits and watches the world move past, out of his control. A feeling, like my life, and everything I so hold dear, is ether granted or denied by a machine devised by men with the blackest of hearts... Men who set themselves above all others.

"I couldn't help but say to [Mr. Gorbachev], just think how easy his task and mine might be in these meetings that we held if suddenly there was a threat to this world from another planet. [We'd] find out once and for all that we really are all human beings here on this earth together. "~Ronald Reagan, 1985

"Every act of conscious learning requires the willingness to suffer an injury to one’s self-esteem. That is why young children, before they are aware of their own self-importance, learn so easily." ~Thomas Szasz

Summer reading...
Review: Interventions by Noam Chomsky....
Though this book is a compilation of articles syndicated by the NY Times, they were rarely published in the US. Our mainstream media considers Chomsky's point of view to be adjectivally dissident, and wantonly unorthodox, (tong in cheek). Whether you agree or not, his ideas on "Universality" is changing the world rapidly, and should be understood.
And this makes it a must read.

Review: Bush at War by Bob Woodward....
This book is focused from the epilogue onward. It is a complex, well researched, and mostly unbiased account of the Bush administration post-9-11. Definitely considered an insider perspective, it gives the reader the ability to draw their own conclusions, something rare in our current political climate.
Yes, a must read.

Review: War Law by Michael Byers...
It is understood that Americans are ignorant of international affairs As most struggle reading of our own Constitution and Bill or Rights, few understand our convoluted relationship with the UN, and our surprising position on international law.

War Law: Understanding International Law and Armed Conflict, by Michel Byers, tackles the tough questions that our biased media won't say, or can't. If you are looking for either a catalyst or a primer for how the US destabilizes International Law, and how that concept applies to our current and sometimes precarious position world-wide, this book is a must read.

Review: Paleoconservatives: new voice of the old right
"Paleoconservatism" as a concept was defined during the 1980s as a response to the rise of Neoconservatism. It is a particular brand of conservatism that rose up in opposition to the New Deal, setting itself against the ideas of the centralizing trends that define modern politics today, on both sides of the isle. It expounds on an understanding of Republican virtues of self-governance and is a celebration of the nation's varied and colorful regional cultures, with warnings as well.
This book brings together key "Old Right" writers of the past and present, and is a must read.
Review: The Neoconservative Revolution: Jewish Intellectuals and the Shaping of Public Policy by Murry Friedman

This very engaging study describes the post-war migration of Jewish intellectuals from Left to Right. Friedman is a self-avowed Jewish neo-con who investigates his fellow Neocons from socialist salad days to the Cold War shift towards liberal anti-Communism. Ready or not you will see from his eyes the disgust of the counter-cultural excesses of the New Left and the final desecration of Reagan Republicanism.

A must read.

Review: The Shadow Party: How George Soros, Hillary Clinton. and the sixties radicals seized control of the Democratic Party By David Horowitz and Richard Poe
  • The Shadow Party's plan to rewrite the US Constitution.
  • How the Shadow Party overthrows foreign governments--and why it may attempt to use the same methods here.
  • The vast network of private think tanks, foundations, unions, stealth PACs, and other front groups through which the Shadow Party operates in America.
  • The network's voluminous contributions to the Democrats, which totaled more than $300 million in the 2004 elections, and its growing influence over the party's message and policy.
  • The politicians on both sides of the aisle who have exchanged political favors with George Soros and his "government-in-the-wings."
  • The Shadow Party's efforts to conceal its radical agenda behind the "moderate" pose of Hillary Clinton and other public figures.
  • The radical network's plan to seize power in 2008. 
  • A must read...

Review: George Soros, on Globalization
Straight from the horse's mouth... Soros equates globalization with "the free movement of capital and the increasing domination of national economies by global financial markets and multinational corporations." Whereas, Special Drawing Rights (SDRs) for international assistance i.e., international reserve assets a process that shares the burden equitably, with the United States paying its fair share.
Better pay attention...
This is a must read.

Review: The Transfer Agreement: The dramatic story of the pact between the Third Reich and Jewish Palestine by Edwin Black.

The Transfer agreement is an award winning and compelling story of the negotiated arrangement in 1933 between Zionist organizations and the Nazis to transfer 50,000 Jews and $100 million of their assets to Jewish Palestine is exchange for stopping the Jewish led boycott of German products. This book is 25 years old, and still applies.

"A fascinating book creating controversy all across the country. Black applied his established investigative journalism techniques to history. The result is an extraordinary book." -- Bill Kurtis, CBS Morning News

"A struggle to write a painful chapter in Jewish history. What Black began uncovering was a tangled account of an anguished moment in history, one that he at the center had to piece together from...forgotten archives, pre-WWII newspapers, and government records.: -- Jan Cawley, Chicago Tribune Magazine
This is a must read...

Day of Reckoning: How Hubris, Ideology, and Greed Are Tearing America Apart by Pat Buchanan
Some say this is the very best of Buchanan writing. Ideology, writes Buchanan, is a Golden Calf, a false god, a secular religion that seeks vainly, like Marxism, to create a paradise on earth. 

Powerful and to the point, Buchanan pulls no punches. His imperative to save America is to identify and remove from power the ideologues of both parties who have nearly killed our country. In his final chapter Buchanan lays out ideas to prevent the end of America. 

Ahead of its time, and the key to our division. A must read...
Part 3

 Part 4 and 5