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September 22nd, 2022 
Awake Goy 
Every now and then some loser will try to take me to task because I can not spell adulterated yankee English.
Got an Email.
Looking at your index I note that you have twice spelled ‘speech’ as ‘speach’ .
It jars on the eye a tad and detracts from otherwise sensible points.
I share your contempt for the British royal family.
Hopefully the dreadful “King” Charles will show his true colours often enough to persuade the rest of the UK that the Queen was the last royal of note and to slip gracefully into a republic (sans a gawd awful ‘president’).
My reply:
My father a highly intelligent man who was a minister could not spell.
I have a nuclear engineer nephew who can not spell.
Napoleon could not spell.
Einstein could not spell.
Henry Ford could not spell.
My cousin George Washington could not spell.
My cousin General George S. Patton could not spell.
I like the company I find myself in.
George Patton writing a letter to his wife’s nephew in the 1930s when he was stationed in the Hawaiian Islands wrote, ignorant unimaginative boring people spell the same word the same way all the time.
But intelligent adventurous people like me find a new way to spell a word every time they use it.
There are people who can spell adulterated yankee English “correctly”, and then there are intelligent folks who get things done.
Control Freak who can spell adulterated English’s reply:
Appen as maybe, but they weren’t holding forth online in the hope of encouraging minds and hearts to follow.
There’s always the risk that perfectly valid progressions of thought are ignored simply because people dismiss the views of people that can’t string a sentence together.
Men of action don’t have to write about what they’re going to do – they just do it.
People that are trying to persuade others through the written word have to work harder.
Seems a shame to lose potential believers and supporters at the first hurdle.
My Rely:
As I said, there are people who can spell adulterated yankee English and people who make things happen.
You have my permission to take your small mind and piss off.
When the CIA was trying to get me to play their rain deer games, the spook trying to recruit me for years finally told me if I would tone it down a bit I could get the masses to follow me.
He said if Jesus the Christ had been a little smother he might have won.
I told him he did win.
He told the truth, he did not compromise, he did not back up.
The Judeans who helped the Romans murder him lost.
He won.
He grew spiritually and did not shame his ancestors.
He was descended from King David and said either he was Lucifer, the real one, or descended from Lucifer, the real one.
He was married to Mary Magdalene who was not a whore.
He was called Rabbi, under Judaic Law a rabbi must be married .
Jesus bore the Rose Cross between the shoulders as did the Frankish long hair kings I am descended from every direction I turn.
I betcha Jesus could not spell either.
Matthew 22:4
For many are called, but few are chosen.
I was offered West Point, I was given inside information on Bitcoin which could have made me a billionaire.
I would have been president if I wanted, I am of the strongest bloodline left in this world.
The object of my blogs is not to entertain the sheep or see how popular I can become.
It is to get the message given me by God to the few who matter.
The few who matter are not control freaks about adulterated yankee spelling.
I am not a sheep.
I know who the hell I have been and the parts I played in many other lives.
I know sheep and jackals.
This life I wanted nothing so much as to hide out in the crowd and let the sheep march off the cliff straight through the slaughterhouse doors.
But God had other ideas.
Thats the only reason I do this blog.
I would damn well rather spend my time fishing, riding my classic motorcycles, doing hobbies and reading a lot of books I have not had time to get to yet.
Like I tell my wife.
When Jesus the Christ called em sheep, it was not a term of endearment.
And if the sheep wanted the truth, Jesus would not have ended up with his ass spiked to a tree.
Don’t want to be rich.
Don’t want the sheep herd drooling over me.
Don’t care about the opinion of sheep or jackals.
I specially don’t give a shit about hearing from losers who have so little to do they have time to be a pain in the ass to their betters who can not spell adulterated English.
I despise the British sheep who piss themselves in excitement over fake ‘royals” who have raped children for generations, but at least they know how to correctly spell the English language as apposed to the child gang raping yankees!
The Ole Dog!
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