Pro-Palestine Groups Surge and Zionists Lock and Load

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#Free Palestine is a fluid international movement of humanitarians around the world. In social media, free #Palestine supporters everyday empower newfound public understanding and awareness. In full reactionary form, nasty pressure is poured on the landscape from #Zionists and their willing operatives and platoons of Internet trolls.

This is a short field report from inside the cyber-war where the righteous refuse to acquiesce to apartheid Israel, in whatever forms or foaming the Zionist madness assumes. I purposely do not name or shame as I like to keep the cork in that bottle. My straight talking style is to rise above personalities and showcase principles. The entire she said he said approach inherent to infighting is counterproductive no matter resident in a marriage, a group of do-gooders, or the US of Constant Wars State Dept. Importantly, ONLY Palestinians can determine the actualization of what they perceive is a humane and just Palestine. Non-Palestinian supporters are invited helpmates and freedom fighters for justice.

The facts: Zionists disguise themselves as Palestinians (hiding in cyber space). Zionist trolls deploy fake or stolen IDs. Zionists work as moles inside NGOs and/or #Facebook (FB) groups to manufacture lies, internal dissent, and disinformation. Miles and piles of threatening rhetoric flow from a mostly unknown yet suspected central Zionist cesspool attempting to push off and piss off compassionate pro-Pal activists. Yet, the movement to free Palestine steadily grows with freshly minted nurturing projects, improved insight, astute lobbying, global boycotting, and more creative endeavors to make a difference for the greater good.

Recently, Zionist venomous attacks in social media focus on respected pro-Pal leaders and #MENA journalists dedicated (for years) to Palestine being what Palestinians want not what Washington desires, or the state of Israel insists. Zionist Internet deceptions and scams are beyond vitriol and too many times down right insane. Zionist trolls come-out in enraged blogs, FB and Twitter posts and comments, or provoking personal chats saying they are pro-Palestine, yet their negative actions, constant backbiting scenarios, and malicious personalized harassment belie a cruel agenda to destroy from within not just derail the pro-Pal movement.

Zionist super extremists secrete within the milieu of pro-Palestine activism to viciously clandestinely disrupt and fester distrust. This snaky m.o. is too similar to Jew-baiting acted out during the Civil Rights Movement, and PSYOPS of today’s covert military.

One current Zionist technique active in social media is to spread god-awful lies to smear the character of pro-Pal leadership who are Jewish. The master goal is to offend and bend all folks working to lend a real hand to the people of Palestine. Zionist name slamming reminds me of the decades I served the Democratic Party and yelped on and on ‘say friggin’ no to negative campaigning.’ To repute a person’s character is slander and libelous intent is punishable by law. What is obvious to those clear-headed or savvy to waves of herd hazy opinions, Jews actively pro-Palestine (as individuals, groups, or cadre) are a concentrated troublesome lot for the state of Israel!

There is much discussion in the rank and file of pro-Pal activists how to handle the incessant harangue of Zionist liars lying spinning out caca. The fact some obsessed Zionists – behind revolving faked profiles – threaten harm to pro-Pal leadership and their families belies how powerful the pro-Pal movement is gaining in global awareness, empowerment, and solidarity. Desperate acts originating from those on the wrong side of an issue are reeking indicators your team is gloriously gaining the high ground.

Freedom fighters are an inclusive segment of humanity who by innate personality and acute concern never give up and never give in. Zionist attempts to spoil the movement are severely weakened before they begin. Trolling works undercurrent and prefers isolated shadows of fear and paranoia. Activists are transparent communicators who go on (and, on) at noble length supporting each other and their cause – in the wide open – and at times too receptive in honest eagerness and passionate approachability. Fear is the vocabulary of the hidden and resigned. Trolling maybe a snarky cyber-based invention of this century, but its basic putrid motive has haunted our species since Eve picked the apple.

By intent and nature, activism lives in the sunlight. Fit to be tied is what trolls (as living beings or bots) are programmed gamed and geared for plus their tinny medium is cyber-stalking and matrix subterfuge. Scintilla is not their thing, nor can they stand up to a group of vibrant right action warriors intent on exposing their cowardly crap.

Reviewing the latest piddle streaming from a thicket of Zionist trolls, I recall how last summer (2014) during the bombing of #Gaza, I regularly received faked porno videos of ‘myself’ from faux FB subscribers along with personal attack chats and photos of disgust from non-existent friends each time I released one more truth. Such lame retort comes with the turf I inhabit. Facebook is not known for its unilateral consistency in protective policies of its 1.5 billion. Screen shots, reports, and blocking of trolls is required along with keeping a vetted clean list of friends.

Noisy politico writers are moving targets, in more ways than one. My in-bred humanistic politics, pro-Pal stance (majority of my family are Arabs or Arab Americans), and pro-Earth birder rants use to be considered extremely radical. Time passes. We age. Humanity awakens? And . . . my rowdy views become tenderly old hat.

I consider this a mammoth compliment and a welcomed badge of earned audacity.

(Graphics from April 15, 2014 – yet, valuable.


America is Not Heaven

May I offer this to those who think moving to #America is finding #utopia. What you see in movies – where everyone lives in magnificence and designer surroundings driving the hottie car of the year while buying whatever their heart desires is mostly a cleverly staged falsehood. 30% of kids in America go to bed hungry. The largest jail population on the planet is in America. The Bill of Rights is under assault by the #1%, who control the means of production sprouting war after war. Not all is well in #Murica (America). Yet, I am positive compared to most circumstances in #MENA, it seems the answer to one’s prayers. It may well be, yet, seeker beware.

Now, if you can can live in a small #Murica town or cool urban neighborhood, surrounded by the countryside, and love family, community, integrity, and what you do for a living while not being swallowed up by overt consumerism – then America is wonderful in its ignorance is bliss-ness.

If your rising expectations are to live like a Hollywood star or starlet and forget the roots of your culture and faith, then you are deceiving yourself. This is the immaturity of a child dreaming of a world comprised of sugar plums, magic, and fairy dust where trees shed hundred dollar bills.

Professionals with serious skills will find an easier go living in America to raise their family and pursue their career goals – if one’s education is superior and sponsored for #immigration. Got that? This is the set of keys. Be the best you can be as a human being with peace in your heart and a destiny of paying it forward awaits you.

I prefer to live in #Costa Rica (since 2007) and visit America, mainly because we land banked our wherewithal here, on purpose (no capital gain taxes). Yet, for sure, I relish living in this amazing nature country with no military and CR is not at war with any other country. Ticos are kindly, polite, and HAPPY. Hopefully, Internet access will not screw them up into wannabees where more is never enough.

Last Thursday, I returned from Murica (America) so this is my re-entry assessment. Yes, i shopped and procured items I cannot get here in CR. Yes, i took advantage of a medical system I pay into in Murica and not available here in CR, Yep, my brother’s home and it’s decor is super in elegance and exceedingly larger than my jungle hut. We both have glorious views. In fact, he is adding on and renovating his first floor with superior products (copper clad wood windows, french doors, etc.) not available here in CR. Have you figured out the sibling competitive angle is inherent?

Yet, I am having hardwood floors (direct from the local mill) installed in my hut’s studio not available in Murica – neither in weight, quality, nor price. Retired Bro lives in a beautiful ranch countryside – the Texas Hill Country. One must drive at least 25 miles to shop for a toothbrush, plus the intrusion of development is faster than lightning hitting a prairie dog compound. I live in a decidedly gorgeous remote jungle, no friggin’ doubt about it. Yet, it is 25 minutes to the ‘city’ and it is 20 minutes the other direction to tropical beaches more wild and spectacular than you can imagine. There are no freeways, here. There are barely passable one way bridges instead of overpasses larger than Yankee Stadium (the olde one). And, of course there are no Buckee’s in CR.

Bro railed at me I need to manage my money better and my response was nearly spitting out my molars, but in quiet despair (mine, not his). Of the two of us, my simple, yet loverly pristine lifestyle is doable and exceedingly reasonable. He is the one with the $350 per month utility bill, and I am the one with the $22 per month (all hydro generated off the national CR grid) one. The utility bill for three businesses and my husband’s and our home in the Hamptons, NY, averaged $4 to $5.5 Gs per month without adding cost of propane fuel for heat (we had three 450 gallon tanks buried so we could buy at wholesale at NY docks prices during the summertime).

Bro’s generosity knows no bounds, but then again he is currently my only heir (and not vice a versa).

My cup ‘ranneth’ over with the high style of life. It did not make me measurably happier and generated stress upon stress to sustain; year after year. Not because i was hung up on the lifestyle did I continue, year after year, but because in my blindness and concern i though i could contribute to my community, my country, AND make a creative difference along with a decent living. We each subscribe to our personalized myth and then once entrenched look for exit signs?

Traveling, of course, is greatly appreciated except for the #TSA’s bull dung (see photo attached).

The overt and covert kindness to me by my smarty pants family, while in the states is remarkable. Yet, none come here to visit allowing me to return the favors so these could be divined as guilt gifts? But, probably not – they are too self-assured for such hidden emotive agendas?

My bro was last here at Finca Vigia right after my husband died, to help me. Bro was fantastic. No, Bro is fantastic, as to why he insists on telling me how to live my life is absurd – but i think this is his fear acting out. He is an older brother. His wife also attempts to manage me. They were success junkies who managed others and budgets. Somehow, they see me as someone I am not? I am a strong personality (as they are) with uncured opinions (as they are) who has been through enough pools of burning caca to flood California (as they have not). Most of the time I nod yep, and then not dwell on the fact I can’t stand being told what to do by them, or just about anyone else. God can testify to my inherited character defect.

All creatives ‘no likee’ unsolicited input. The rest of my family also cannot stand the advice rendering – yet, I think Bro and Mrs. Bro Managers have given up on them, so I am the lucky moving target since I arrive for brief interludes.

Each time i return to the homeland, I sense the civil society fear has notched up several more levels coupled to the secure apathy inherent in the upper middle class my family inhabit. In contrast, I operate in an earthy pungent flowery universe. I believe I treat everyone lovingly with a sense of humor – the same for my superior fancy arse cardiologists to the guy banging nails at my bro’s or Tony C working in my hut laying down a floor.

No one in my family is a phony, and for this I am filled with gratitude. Yet, their orientation to time and the here and now is far far different than my own. They fill their days and nights with projects I find counterproductive to Earth’s sustainability. But, then again I am the revolutionary thinker, the writer, the ‘ranter’, and the noisy introvert who lives in the moment, in mindfulness, watching birds, growing ideas, and stirring up shit in social media.

Do i want to spend the reminder of my life as a single in the rainforest with toucans, bugs larger than my face, howling monkeys, and German Shepherds? Nope. I would like to share a partnered life with one more version of a happy brilliant sexy man who possesses little worries and a deep-seated faith in himself, and his God. The ideal candidate loves family, independence, adventure, nature, dogs, and making difference. Ah shit, this sounds like a pity pot ad in a personal column. It is not meant as such.

This is my digital journal. I jot down stuff here, rather than an actual notebook. But, I keep a small real notebook to write down (yes, pens are still circulating as implements) important crap I forget too easily including web links, ideas for articles, rants, names, concepts, and possible dialogue for my latest tome. My birding journal is more scientific and artsy.

Writers write because they have no other choice. You do have a choice. You can read this banality tongue in cheek (as proffered) or pass on by to the next instant gratification feed.

TSA sheet one