I have finally made the transition from Oxnard, Calif., to Cape Coral, Florida.
The transition betwixt and between these two cities was via Ft. Collins, Colorado. The mode of transportation from point A. to B. to C. was accomplished by riding the "Hound. " Twenty-eight hours from Oxnard, to Ft. Collins. Then a month later, sixty hours from there to my SW Florida, gulf coast, home away from home.
It was time for a geographic. I had written a testy (OK, I called him every variety of drizzling shit known to man) "open letter" to the current Ventura County District Attorney that cast aspersions of scandalously illegal behavior, much like a dead dog at the door of his power. Greg (Totten; "rhymes with rotten") is nothing, if not vindictive.
He is also cagey. His O.P.D. minions and gophers circled around several days in a row, but were spooked by all the people that came out of their homes, no matter what street they stopped me on, and sneered.
That doesn't sound like much but this was five years in the making.
And when the population starts openly sneering at the lawless who have been pretending to be "good cops" it means two important things.
One; The people are aware of what you are, and no longer are buying your charade.
Two; They are losing their fear.
But any way, back to my new home.
My new digs are just shy of opulent. A mosquito screened lanai with a pool. A bathtub as big as a jacuzzi. Forty-two inches of plasmatic, high def imagery hanging on the living room wall.
And a state full of lawyers that are far enough removed from the "quid pro quo" loyalties existent among the two legged sharks that ply that trade in Calif., for the litigatable equation to be reduced back to; "How deep are the pockets? And; How difficult is it going to be to empty them?"
I have access to the Internet for the first time in years, in a manner that isn't dependent upon my finding an open wireless signal for my dumpster-dived computer. That was attached to an extension cord, that was "requisitioning" someone's electrical power.
I live for the first time in over five years among people that haven't watched the corruption of their community flower and bloom around them, and especially me. People that didn't grow resentful with the combination of that knowledge, coupled with my awareness that the fear of losing the life they had built, had forced them down a road that left them no illusions as to the fact that they were not up to the task of being a decent human being, when the wolf was at their door.
People grow angry at the person that lives by a code that they were sure was their code as well.
Until it came time to apply it. Or deny it.
The self knowledge with in anyone that they have let such forsaken creatures pass unmolested. Uncontested with in their community out of fear, is a poison that never works its way out of a persons system as long as fear of consequence is their master.
And every contact that a person who has accepted their slavery to fear has, with someone who rejects submission to such things is a reminder of that person's fear.
A reminder so strong that it allows no instance of illusion with in that person, that they would stand against such things. They come to hate you more than they hate the creatures they fear.
Because you remind them that they are words, without substance. Lives without any greater purpose than to lick the hand of those that enslave them.
So, I fight on from here. I will go back. With the legal equivalent of pit bulls.
With the Feds leading the charge to shackle these A-Holes together and then lead them off to their respective trials, and lengthy prison sentences. They will be happy to do their fucking duty just so I will quit tossing huge logs on the fire that I am gonna light up under their ass in the media.
I plan the sacking of the Dark Tower in Ventura County from here. But as Sting said; I'll be there to; "Set those battlements on fire."
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