“We have seen growing evidence that the dangers to our country can come not only across borders, but from violence that gathers within.
There is little cultural overlap between violent extremists abroad and violent extremists at home. But there is disdainful pluralism in their disregard for human life, in their determination to defile national symbols.
They are children of the same foul spirit and it is our continuing duty to confront them.”Publisher’s Note: The image here is a painting called “War Games” which is intended to highlight George W. Bush’s manipulation of the attacks of 9/11 to justify war in Iraq.
It is part of a pair of works by New York-based, Australian artist Petrina Ryan-Kleid. It’s companion piece, called “Parsing Bill”, is an image of former president Bill Clinton clad in a blue dress and high heels, gesturing to the viewer.
Both were found in Jeffrey Epstein’s $56 million Manhattan home, and he didn’t kill himself.
The following is an exact transcript from a whistleblower within the Armed Services. This is not satire. This is not a joke. This is what’s happening with taxpayer dollars. This is what our military is being ordered to do. This is the reality for our men and women in uniform.
Certain identifying portions have been redacted, and some spelling corrections have been made. (The original text was typed quite hastily) Trusted sources are trusted. – Shawn Bradley Witzemann (TMI)
“2/1 Marines were held at least one extra day at the tax payers expense in the dangerous combat theater Kabul, Afghanistan to police call (clean) their base for the Taliban. I know you’re waiting for the punchline but this isn’t a joke. The General’s name is General Sullivan w/ TF 51/5. They were ordered to clean, even though there were credible threats of suicide vests and about a dozen military aged men, armed with AKs, came over the walls of Abbey Gate of the base at the time. The base in question was HKIA; arguably the most valuable air base in all of Kabul, and 2nd most valuable in the entire nation. I lived there myself for a few months, and it is huge; filled with transient barracks and massive motor pools that we shouldn’t be cleaning for the enemy. They knew this and were still ordered to making cleaning up the base, to hand over to the Taliban, top priority. The order came from 51/5 General and SGTMAJ. They made these marine sleep on the floor and benches of the gyms, and then clean up after themselves in the gym, after packing up to leave, as well as reflip vehicles into the right position to hand over to the Taliban. It was also apparently a Navy Admiral that made them do this because 2/1 had apparently trashed a vehicle of his (not his POV mind you but a military vehicle merely assigned to him), so he took it out on them with this dangerous and wildly insulting, petty vengeance play, while he hid in the JOC doing no work. I know you are [Redacted], but I am a soldier who spent time on HKIA, defending HKIA, operating missions, and living out of HKIA. This is a disgrace to all of us who gave our bodies, energy and best years to the fighting forces for Afghanistan for them to treat these Marines like this. All soldiers are my brothers, [Redacted]. Please stand up for them somehow, or contact whatever the whistleblowing group for them is.”
The following is the transcript of the from Shawn Witzemann remarks at Reclaim Restore County by County Event :
Ladies and Gentlemen, the odds are against us.
This isn’t your typical run of the mill political battle.
What we are confronted with, is the very end of our Republic.
This isn’t hyperbole.
What we face….is the death of America.
I was told that people need to hear my story, but that’s a task, easier said than done.
There isn’t a single American that can be summed up only by what is known to the public, and I am no exception.
I have plenty of skeletons in my closet, and there’s certainly not enough time right now to drag all of those bones into the light of day.
I’m sure that many of you would recoil in horror at the plethora of mistakes I’ve made in my 39 years on this planet.
With the little time I do have, I’ll endeavor to do be as truthful as I can.
I was born and raised in Farmington, New Mexico.
Although I would be moved elsewhere from time to time, as my father followed work, this town represents the very roots of my being.
In fact, I now live only a couple of blocks away from the house where I learned to ride a bicycle; a short walk from the home where my father decided to embrace his own destiny, and become an entrepreneur.
Of all the lessons I learned from my father, the principles of hard work, independence, and loyalty are those that will never be forgotten.
I watched as he spent endless hours, applying his college degrees in economics and business administration to painstakingly doing his book work by hand. Returning phone calls until late at night; after I had already been instructed to go to bed. Up at the crack of dawn to earn a living for his wife and children.
My mother is an artist. It was she who taught me the beauty of the written word….the emotion in the stroke of a paintbrush….the pain in a phrase from a long forgotten blues song…the power of love.
It’s a shame that I was unable to hearken to the lessons my parents had taught me when I was young, but I was never destined to learn things the easy way. My years are a testament to this fact.
Much of my own being has been shaped by hard experience. Molded by my failures.
I submit to you that America is much the same. This experiment hasn’t always been successful.
Much like this country we love, I was rebellious and petulant. I had all the answers, but I was unable to apply them to reach my own success.
I hated authority. I despised the hypocrisy of the church I attended. My distaste for societal norms was evidenced by my inability to stay out of trouble.
I was blue haired and belligerent. Proud in my own ignorance.
In my late teenage years, and into early adulthood, I struggled to find a path that wasn’t leading me to incarceration.
I scoffed at the thought of imprisonment; too young and stupid to know what it meant.
I played guitar at house parties and studied philosophy and political science.
I drank, and smoked, and huffed from the drip tanks behind San Juan College. I was trying my best to be dead by the age of 27.
I was in a state of extended adolescence, but my childhood came to an abrupt end when at the age of 22, I was given the news that I would be a father.
The moon of my life came to me scared. She was afraid that she would be alone in raising the child she had become pregnant with.
I assured her she was not. I told her I would take care of them. I told her I was ready to be a man.
I was a liar.
Through endless carousing and a complete lack of respect for the life I had created, I strayed from the path I was meant to walk.
My ignorance landed me in a bar fight, while already on probation.
My son was little more than one month old, and I was sitting in the San Juan County Detention Center…..looking at spending the next 5 years in prison.
People always make jokes about finding Jesus in prison, but the truth is…..he often finds you.
I spent my time thinking about what I stood to lose. I read the Proverbs of Solomon and pondered my mistakes; terrified that I would miss out on being a father to my son.
I went before Judge Carla Vescovi-Dial to hear her judgement.
She wasn’t my biggest fan.
“Mr. Witzemann”, she said, “You come before me, having been given probation for aggravated assault on a police officer, and now it is my understanding that you were involved in a bar fight?”
“There’s really nothing to say here,” she said coldly, “I am sentencing you to serve the remainder of your time in prison”.
Her words hit me like a ton of bricks as I was escorted from the video court room and back to the bench where countless others waited to have their fates decided.
I began crying.
The guy sitting next to me asked what had happened. He asked what was wrong.
I said “I guess God still has something to teach me”.
I had failed my moon. I had failed my son. I hung my head and continued to weep.
Inexplicably……I was called back into the video courtroom.
The judge spoke……
“Mr. Witzemann,” she said, “ I don’t know why… but I’ve decided to release you today. If I ever see you again, I will BURY you under this jail.”
Just a few hours later, I was released. I was greeted in the parking lot by my moon; My son Isaiah was safe in his car seat. I swore I would never leave him again.
I tell this story as an example of the power of hopelessness.
America stands on the precipice.
Our country is held captive by the consequence of our mistakes as a people.
Pointing the finger will not spare us from judgement.
We must take personal responsibility for the situation we are in.
On January 6th, I witnessed as hundreds of thousands of Americans went to the Capitol to protest the stolen election.
I saw years of disillusionment and steady gaslighting come to a head that day, as protestors move up the stairs on the west side of the inauguration stage.
I inhaled the tear gas as it was shot into the crowd.
I watched as a man was pushed to his death right in front of me.
I saw the fear in the eyes of Capitol Police.
I begged them not to start shooting lead into the crowd.
I told them that if they did, we would all die.
I watched as they stood down.
I watched as protesters poured into the Capitol.
I watched as Capitol Police ushered people through the building, asking them to stay within the ropes, like some sort of weird, guided tour from hell.
I was just down the hall from the Speakers Chambers when I heard the gunshot that killed Ashli Babbit.
I was there in the statuary, when when police instructed everyone to return to the rotunda.
For a minute it seemed like there would be a peaceful sit-in. I’m a child of hippies.
Forgive my ignorance.
My most hopeful of wishes would soon turn to dust.
I was convinced I was going to die when police moved in and began pushing everyone toward the east doorway; I was caught between two masses of people.
I had nowhere to escape.
I couldn’t breathe.
We were being crushed.
I watched as a woman passed out right in front of me. I struggled to keep her from being trampled.
I pushed my left arm out against the police, and screamed at those around me to “MAKE SOME ROOM!” as she lay lifeless on the glass floor; inches away from the boots that would kill her, without intervention.
I thanked God when police finally grabbed her and dragged her limp body behind the line. I thanked the police emphatically.
Most of them weren’t enjoying this any more than I was. They couldn’t breathe either.
Somewhere along the way, it became very obvious to me what was going on.
I looked up at the eye of the rotunda, and marveled.
It was beautiful.
This was the end.
I was bearing witness to the very death of our Republic.
Suddenly…..the pressure relented, and I was able to breathe again.
By some miracle, I was able to leave that building on my own two feet.
I surveyed Capitol Hill and decided I had seen enough.
As I walked west on Pennsylvania Avenue, someone was playing Johnny Cash.
“When the Man comes Around”
I returned to my hotel room where I made an appearance on “The Situation Room” with Rocci Stucci.
When the time came to broadcast my own show, the tears were impossible to hold back.
Once again in my life, I wept openly.
I was in a state of mourning.
The next day, I rented a car, and with the help of multiple friends, I made my way back to New Mexico as quickly as I could; driven by one purpose: to see my children again.
The following week, the FBI came knocking at my door.
I agreed to meet with them, to discuss what I had seen.
I had nothing to hide. Journalism is a public business.
Later that month, I watched as Biden was installed.
I watched as the events of January 6th were turned into a caricature of the truth.
Over the next several weeks, I watched as hundreds were rounded up and charged with crimes they did not commit.
I watched as the lie unfolded.
On April 1st of this year (a fitting date for this old fool), I too was charged with crimes I did not commit.
I was contacted by the FBI and instructed to turn myself in.
I was taken to the Cibola County Detention Center in Grants, NM, where I once again found myself wondering if I would ever see my children again.
I reflected on the decisions that led me to that point. I pondered the lessons being given to me by God.
I was released to pretrial services the following day, and I continue to be thankful for my current disposition. But in the midst of this wrongful prosecution, as I face the potential of 3 years in federal prison, a path has been laid out before me.
Silence is not an option.
No threat of imprisonment can dissuade me from this purpose.
We were endowed by our Creator, with certain unalienable rights; long before the founders decided to put pen to paper.
Right now….as I speak…. US veterans who committed no acts of violence on January 6th are being held in solitary confinement for daring to peacefully petition their government for a redress of grievances.
As I speak… we are watching as a a lab created virus with a survival rate of over 99% is being used to destroy all personal liberty, in the name of a false sense of security.
As I speak… We are watching as countless friends and family are being systematically murdered by this so-called vaccine; the true bio weapon.
As I speak… This country, and everything good it could have been, is being destroyed at the behest of a globalist agenda that would seek to exterminate all human life on this planet.
As I speak…. Patriotism is being criminalized.
These realities are an affront to American values and cannot be allowed to continue unabated.
The Great Reset is upon us, and it’s time to wake up.
“Building Back Better” is a one-way ticket to hell.
The Republic has fallen and the future of our children hangs in the balance.
I implore you to recognize the hopelessness of our situation.
Regardless of cost, we must push back at those powers that would deprive us of our God given liberties.
Regardless of cost, we must raise our voices in defiance of tyrannical law.
Regardless of cost, we must now come together and fight for our freedom.
We’ve already been divided. The fall has already occurred.
Only together, and in obedience to God, can we pick up the pieces, and stand once again.
Farmington, NM (TMI) — As the ongoing pandemic has ravaged all aspects of American life, nurses and other healthcare professionals have been praised by nearly everyone for their dedication to providing care in the face of uncertain risk, but vaccination mandates are now causing some front-line workers to question whether or not their lives have any worth at all.
During the meeting, Bourgeois explained that the vaccination would be mandatory for all “employees, volunteers, contract workers, students, licensed independent practitioners, and all members of the SJRMC Medical Staff” at both San Juan Regional Medical Center, and San Juan Health Partners.
Bourgeois went on to explain that exemptions (medical, disability, religion) could be applied for, but in the event that an exemption was granted, workers would need to submit to weekly COVID testing as a condition of employment.
Tribune was recently contacted by an SJRMC nurse who is refusing to take the vaccine, or submit to weekly testing, citing what they believe to be obvious discrimination.
“If people who are vaccinated can still get and transmit COVID, is this mandatory testing not discrimination against a particular group of people?”
Our source spoke to us with a condition of anonymity, for fear of unwanted retaliation, but agreed to go public in the event of termination.
Those who fail to obtain an exemption, or refuse to comply with SJRMC policy could lose their jobs as soon as Friday, August 27th; just ten days after the state mandate was announced.
“San Juan Regional is holding our livelihood over our heads,” our source explained, while heaping praise on coworkers who have been working tirelessly throughout the course of the pandemic, “I don’t understand the sudden mandate. We’ve been doing this for months on end, exposing ourselves to COVID patients. Now we get a mandate, with only 10 days to comply?”
Our source explained how over the course of the last 18 months, much of what has been officially publicized does not accurately reflect reality on the COVID floors of SJRMC.
“In the beginning, it didn’t matter what people died from. It didn’t matter what the actual cause was. If a patient presented with symptoms, it was COVID. Every death was classified as COVID.”
When we asked our source to explain why they thought that sort of practice would happen, it sadly validated the suspicions of many.
“A COVID diagnosis and the associated isolation results in an up-charge that the hospital can then bill to the Federal Government.”
We asked about the current shortage of nurses and other hospital staff.
“Each nurse is responsible for up to 7 patients. Almost always 6. Ideally, we would be taking care of 3,” they explained before once again, praising the floor manager, who “usually works nights, but is always willing to come in during days when there aren’t enough nurses available to handle the amount of patients.”
We asked what was being observed, in regards to an increase in COVID patients.
“ICU is full, but has almost always been that way. Right now, they are treating 2 COVID patients,” they explained, “Health officials like to use that number to say a hospital is at full capacity, but it’s a bit misrepresentative. We see a lot of people presenting for COVID, who are already on oxygen as a part of their daily lives, who are then admitted and treated with oxygen. It makes no sense. We see more young people than we did last year. Lots of flu and RSV like we would normally see during winter.”
We asked what role the Delta variant seemed to be playing in the number of patients.
“I asked one of our doctors how we could tell if someone had Delta. He said we couldn’t. We just send tests off to the state, but we have no idea at SJRMC what percentage of tests are actually run through genetic testing once they leave the hospital.”
Previous conversations Tribune has had with anonymous sources in the SJRMC lab corroborate this assessment.
We asked if the majority of patients were unvaccinated, as the New Mexico Department of Health claims.
“No. The majority of patients are vaccinated.”
We asked why our source thought this wasn’t being reported by official sources. “It doesn’t go along with their lies.” We asked why they thought some are hesitant to take the vaccine, but seem more willing to take Remdesivir (the experimental therapeutic which is currently authorized under emergency use).
“Most COVID positives just need some vitamin C and they start feeling better in no time at all. In the beginning with Remdesivir, the doctors would make a bit of a big deal in explaining to the patient that it was experimental, and have them sign off on a consent form. They don’t do that anymore. I don’t know why. We know it’s bad for the kidneys.”
We asked if the pending FDA approval of the Pfizer vaccine would have any impact on our source’s decision to refuse the shot or weekly testing, and they said “absolutely not”, citing a lack of trust for the federal agency. According to a press release (1), the FDA granted full approval for the Pfizer–BioNTech COVID-19 Vaccine, for those 16 years of age and older, while also extending the Emergency Use Authorization for the 12-15 year old age group, as well as a third booster shot. Our source’s stance on the matter remains unchanged.
“The hard part is looking at it, seeing all the negative consequences, and asking what is my life worth. I pray every day that the reports of negative reactions are wrong, but it doesn’t seem that way. I just want my fellow nurses and healthcare workers who don’t want to be forced to take this shot to know they aren’t alone. I want to get the word out. This is our community hospital. We need to stick together.”
UPDATE– After publishing, our source contacted us and asked that we make the following clarification: “Not everyone who is here has had their vaccine, but we have had people that have been vaccinated, and vitamin c is not making everyone better but is given with other medications to treat COVID.”
UPDATE2 – Tribune spoke with Sheriff Shane Ferrari this morning. 8/24. It was a wide ranging conversation, but his support for medical freedom was apparent. He has been working to pass on the appropriate resources to everyone who has been flooding him with questions. More details of the conversation will be published in a subsequent article.
Add Lafayette Square to the long and growing lists of things we were lied to about in 2020.
This one was pretty obvious but frustrating as all get out regardless. Mema when the jackbooted thugs of the Orange Man’s Administration deploy nerve agent to clear the brave and peaceful protesters from Lafayette Square so that the Narcissist-In-Chief could have a photo opt? Me neither. But if you were to have or intrepid press spin the tail that, and other Orange Man bad transgressions, was unprecedented and just plain mean. Welp, that was bat guano. On there ongoing tour to rebuild there tattered reputation, our Journalism class revisited that fateful day and guess what? Nah, don’t guess I’ll just quote the headline:
Now I think we are all tried on winning because our betters within the establishment media keep taking L ‘s. It’s time we have to start admitting that this shit is getting “re-goddamn-diculous“. Not only did the Park Police did not clear Lafayette Park and the nearby area of protesters on June 1, 2020, so that Drumpf could walk from his crib (well the peoples’ crib) over to St. John’s Church, but the Bureau of Prisons officers on the scene were getting their asses kicked. This prompted the Park Police to begin “aggressively clearing the park”. Now you see why our former lord and savior Cheeto Jesus called the fake news the “Enemy of the People“.