The Freedom of Knowledge, The Power of Thought ©
The Adventures of Don & Carol Croft

Episode 39
When The Hunters Become The Hunted,
and Other Personal Power Considerations

By Don Croft <>
October 5, 2002

This journal entry is dedicated to my good friend, Alan Yurko, who just got out of 30 days of solitary confinement for apparently encouraging his fellow inmates in a Florida prison to exercise their sovereign rights not to eat bad food.  Of course, those inmates only took made their indivicual decisions with their own discretion.  Alan only mentioned that he wouldn't be eating that stuff any more and followed through with that commitment.  He never incited his fellow inmates to anything at all except to follow their higher instincts in life.

He's in prison in the first place because he's a reputable journalist who isn't afraid to lift the lid on the regime's predatory vaccination agenda, certainly not because he broke any real laws.

His latest work clearly shows that the 'Anthrax Cartel' (my terminology) is nothing but a scam based on a well-orchestrated fear campaign and that the official remedies, which involve billions of dollars in manufacturing and distribution, are not only ineffective; they're positively harmful.  Even the FDA, the unlawful federal agency which is owned and operated by the same folks who are carrying out this campaign, refuses to approve the procedures.  As far as I'm concerned, this research simply points out, once again, that the only terrorists operating in the United States right now are employed, directed and financed by the alleged  US government, itself.  I hope you arent' entertaining a notion to receive a vaccine shot for anything these days.

After reading some of my material on how Carol and I are dealing with the NSA/CIA agents who follow us around and sometimes try to intimidate us, Alan advised me to be more gentle with those agencies because there are good people in them who regularly and clandestinely throw wrenches into the cogs of their predatory/parasitic machinery.

This is written in reply to Alan, who is good-hearted to a fault, and in acknowldgement of his personal sacrifice and integrity.

Two days ago, after we had left an initial 60 mile long swath of disabled dead orgone transmitters and votex-arrays, we were driving through Wilbur, Washington and I spotted three vehicles parked together on a side street with two of the drivers standing and conversing. We hadn't seen any feds since we left the vicinity of  Fairchild Air Force Base along US Rte 2 a couple of hours earlier, so I was scanning for signs of them when I spotted these fellows.

The older looked directly at me and had that 'Oh, S-t!' expression I've come to enjoy so much, then I noticed that two of the small white cars had 'City Parcel' on the doors in big, nondescript red letters; no phone number or other graphics. Of course, there's no such business.

I turned around at the next available spot and went directly back to confront them. This is a departure from my usual hand-gesture-grin indications that I've made federal agents, but it just felt appropriate.

Of course, the other two cars had split instantly when the boss agent got made and they were trying to get into position again elsewhere, but the boss had gotten back into his car and was sitting, staring forward when I drove next to him and waved at close range.

Since he didn't respond, I made a quick U turn, drove back alongside his car and yelled, 'How Ya Doin'?'   He still didn't turn to look at me, so I whistled so loud it hurt poor Carol's ears. Then he looked at me, but he wasn't smiling. I just waved and smiled as usual and drove off, but I could tell I had turned a corner in my relationship with these folks.

During the entire following day of our two-day tower busting patrol through central Washington, I only saw two agents, and they were making sure I wouldn't be getting close enough to exchange greetings.

I'm eager for the next opportunity to humiliate a boss field agent, just as I'm eager to find any helicopter within range of my pellet gun over my house.  It's my way of 'counting coup,' which was the option that the more
honorable, civilized Indian tribes used to settle disputes with neighboring tribes before the Whites came here.

In my view, since they have no lawful jurisdiction to follow me, keep our mail (they kept several thousand dollars in wholesale order payments for over a month before allowing them to be delivered by our postman last week,
for instance, and most of those were sent by Priority Mail), knock over our lawn ornaments, cause our phonecalls to be inaudible due to heavy electronic 'surveillance,' send physical agents to prowl inside our home at night through some arcane energy transfer tech or something (I wasn't home that night, of course), or otherwise insinuate themselves officially into our lives, they are Fair Game for my own version of harassment and

As you can imagine, it wouldn't occur to me to drive next to a police car and behave that way. This may illustrate a point about personal power that I'd like to make here.

Lots of folks talk about personal power, give expensive seminars about it, sell books, and otherwise entice the gullible into getting an illusion or, at best, a distant glimpse of what personal power is, there's nothing quite like making a physical, 3D demonstration of one's personal sovereignty.

I gave back the slave number that was foisted on me. That was over six years ago. It was a good gesture and I don't regret it. I don't think it's necessary, though, for one to do that in order to experience personal sovereignty. I use a driver license, for instance, though I know some who get away without even having one of those or registering their vehicles. As with anything, it's probably outside the bounds of prudence to be a purist, not to mention the forced lonliness it implies. Expressing integrity in an intelligent way makes new friends and lets the false friends detach gracefully, though.

I consider hollering at that fed a moderate act, by the way, considering the profoundly unlawful mandate he's operating under that brought him to my attention.Citizen arrest would even have been appropriate, but I've been
too lazy to learn the ins and outs of common law to pull that off. Maybe I'll buy some handcuffs and wave them in their faces.

I simply believe that one must express his/her personal sovereignty (my Canadian friends who did that have another name for it, but it's the same thing) in a personal way.  Expressing it is an acknowledgement of the
covenant under universal law that we all come into this world in tacit agreement with.

When we get in touch with personal power, we also get a boost in awareness concerning personal responsibility.  The traditional notion of 'liberty' has always been suspect to me, as it implies anarchy and hedonism, both of which I consider self-destructive tendencies. I sometimes jokingly refer to myself as an 'essential anarchist' because that, to me, implies rejection of arbitrary authority, which we surely all can do well without.

True authority derives from our innate understanding and acknowledgment of universal law. The US Constitution's Bill of Rights is the guarantor of our protection under this unwritten, unwritable covenant, which is as pervasive and immutable as the law of the jungle, only a higher expression that that. Other countries have similar guarantees, or certainly should by now.

For those of us who find it convenient not to pay attention to our inner guidance concerning matters of law, there are written laws in force in every society to keep these people from easily violating the rights of others. I can envision a society in which police and courts are extraneous, but I haven't been to many places in the world where this is practicable. I must say I've visited places which have no apparent need for a formal system of law enforcement, notably a small, remote community in Yucatan and one or two islands in the Republic of Belau.    That's not to say these folks don't have a pratical way of exacting retribution for obvious crimes, of course.

What has come to be thought of (under the protocols of our current mental programming) as moderate is to keep the ego in a stranglehold. What most don't seem to realize is that this simply stops one from expressing personal power and from taking personal responsibility. As with other aspects of artificial programming, we are presented with two options: let the ego express fully (read: obnoxious, self-centered, predatory) or suppress it. Actually, the ego is like a fine stallion, or the tiger, if you will.  When we engage the potential of the ego with a simple, humane bridle, it's going to take us places we wouldn't otherwise have experienced.

If you're reading this, you're most likely a person of conscience and integrity and I encourage you to stop beating your ego into submission with the club of artificial programming and let it join forces with your intuition and heart-felt desires. If you don't have a conscience or a sense of integrity, none of this will mean anything to you, and for your sakes, I say, 'Thank God for the US Constitution and whatever can adequately replace it in the future.'

This is a non-sequitur, but it just occurred to me that Carol and I are enacting a higher expression of General Sherman's march to the sea in the US Civil War. We're marching to another sea, and we're harming nobody in
the process, of course. In fact, instead of a trail of destruction and misery, we're leaving a trail of empowerment and awakened possibilities. He had an army, but at this point we're only two among a small handful of people.   It's a good demonstration that a few committed, empowered people can undo what was done by a horde of predatory officials,  sycophants, unwitting technicians, unlimited finances and the worst of all possible intentions.  We're not only undoing it, we're causing it to work for us all. That's real power.

Yelling at NSA/CIA boss field agents is just a field tactic. If they get in trouble with their bosses while carrying out unlawful surveillance orders, that's really not our problem, is it? We still get occasional friendly waves from lower level operatives.

What endears Alan to me so much is his ability to turn every incident into a spiritual reward for himself and others. He's just as sweet and self-deprecating after thirty days in the hole, for instance, as he was the day he went in. A lesser person would have become bitter and depressed by these severe tests. I'm extremely gratified to know this fine exemplar.Hopefully, enough attention can be directed his way for him to get an unconditional pardon.

I'm betting that the Internet is more appropriate for this than any other media, since the really effective, powerful people in the world prefer this media over the rest.

Don Croft

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