Action Call

As those of you that have been unlucky enough to hear from me recently can attest my mood is a little dark. The reality of long planned schemes and their impending completion makes for sobering reflection – or cause for over consumption. To those who know what I mean mea cupla.

Today I read a poignant and moving letter. On Wednesday 15th June Thomas Ball walked up to a local County Court House in New Hampshire. He doused himself with petrol and then set himself alight and burned to death.

You can read what the local presstitutes printed at the time here complete with the usual paid for ‘expert’ opinion. The following day a 15 page letter arrived at the same local rag and they printed it. This was the last statement from Mr Ball and I recommend reading it.

His was not an act based on despair. It was an act of defiance. His words are a call to action. He makes a calm and rational statement rejecting the existing order and chose to act upon it in a calm and deliberate manner.

That for me is a watershed. When the intelligent middle class in a society have reached this stage then life changing events are sure to follow. I hope that any transition will be peaceful. I also highly doubt it considering the inhuman ghouls that must be removed.

The people in the formerly prosperous ‘West’ are now in a similar plight. They have been trapped in the lure of easy credit – that really should mean easy debt. We have spend a generation using that debt to buy crap from Asia. Crap made from the blood, sweat and tears of the people of Asia. Well folks the bill is past due.

The owners of that debt have let their greed run rampant. They even bankrupted themselves and the treasonous cowards (or politicians if you prefer) in our demonocracies sold us into destitution and poverty to keep them in the luxury they expect.

We might see the early signs of what is to come. When the reality of no money and no future really bites it will be too late. Unlike the people in Iceland we had no chance to avoid this. Most were too busy watching talentless ‘reality’ shows and celebrity titillation on the idiot box.

We must follow the example of Greece, Spain and hopefully soon Ireland or the game is over. We had our chance to do this quietly and that time has now passed. Moaning about it online is not going to make a single difference.

Those of us that spoke up are already known. The time for education has passed. Our time has come and we must spread that knowledge in the days ahead. A great slaughter is coming. As the moment of greatest peril for the banksters approaches they will pull a great bait and switch on us.

The War Mongers are now working up a lather trying to finally bomb Syria. This was the aim of the Arab Spring. All those countries that Dubya and the neocons didn’t get to bomb are back on the banquet of blood again.

This time the other global actors (and I do mean actors) will not sit idly by. We must not let the vampires march off our young to the next global slaughter. The path to peace will not be peaceful but it is a road that we must travel.

Thomas Ball RIP

PTSD

Here I am again staring at a blank word document… it taunts me to try to fill the blank with the thoughts swirling around in my head. It’s not as if there isn’t plenty to talk about recently. Let me remember what has tickled my outrage detectors lately.

Queen LizardBeard of England went to Ireland and first on the agenda was a wee jig on the graves of Irish Martyrs. I certainly didn’t miss the meaning of that one. It’s way too early to call that one over lizzy baby.

Pepsi are deliberately using aborted foetal tissue to develop artificial sweeteners. They know all about it but still carry on searching for the fast buck and the mighty profit line. If we needed any further truth that the global corporatocracy we all are enslaved by is a Satanic cult this surely is it.

The Israhelli’s are merrily murdering the true semitic people of the holy lands. Business as usual for Rothschild’s demons. Cannily they are keeping the daily dead body count on the low side so as not to give the game away. We can’t have the obese talent shows fans out there stirring their conscience too much can we. Pass the Pepsi. Next

Sammy Bin Hidin’s dead again. Like some steroid and LSD fuelled remake of ‘Weekend at Bernie’s’ someone's rotten corpse got dragged out for a burial at seas… enough said.

I see al-CIA-duh managed to destroy Pakistan’s entire sub hunting capability with the burning of their newly refurbished P3 Orion aircraft. Spot quiz for the readers. Which bunch of nuclear armed psychos has taken to playing with their new (free – absolutely gratis) German subs in the Arabian Sea recently? Uncanny timing don’t you think?

I also see the ramp up to the occult zionist power love fest – or the London Olympics in 2012 if you prefer. Is it just me or does the main logo (apart from spelling zion – complete with a dotted I) look like badly pixelated porno? You decide. Also check out the CCTV tellytubby mascots – complete with ‘All Seeing Eye’ headpiece.

I had a dream recently where Benny NitwitYahoo was a misunderstood and cuddly guy – WTF!!! I also find myself getting all misty eyed for seemingly innocuous reasons. I think I have Pre Traumatic Stress Disorder. I know and can see exactly what’s coming and it’s causing me nightmares.

I’m away for a break for a few days soon – not that it will affect my rate of posting (grin). There is so much going on in the real world that it helps to stand away from the keyboard and live a little.

Don’t start the revolution without me.

Installment #1: "Seeing Is Disbelieving"

I don’t have much original that I want to say at the moment - as I'm sure you already guessed. Edgar Steele finally does.

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(Preface by Cyndi Steele. June 1, 2011)

As hard as they may try, they are not going to silence Edgar J. Steele
Yes, our hopes for justice might have been crushed, temporarily, with the tragedy of my husband’s, Edgar J. Steele, unjust conviction. For his children and I it, has been devastating. In a time when the government has proven itself corrupt, especially in targeting and attacking the innocent who are outspoken, now it touts as a victory, silencing this innocent man who stood up for Freedom of Speech in our once great nation; a nation that is now known as “Amerika: the land of a captive people and home to government cowards”.

While serious illnesses slowed him down for six months of 2010, the government took him out of circulation for another year, he, and all of those who helped and contributed to his defense, fought valiantly for his freedom. Ed sadly chose to do it their way; staying quiet and letting the attorneys work the case in the manner they insisted was best for his acquittal. Well, we all have witnessed where that has gotten him….JAIL and MORE JAIL.

Now, this time, Ed is going to be doing it his way! LOUD and as OUTSPOKEN as he possible can be! Just as we have known him to be in his past writings. So despite them keeping him behind cell walls, he is writing, with hopes of having enough material for a book or two. Meanwhile, he has asked that portions of his work be shared with everyone so that his voice can start to be heard, again.
Below is Edgar J Steele’s first writing since his arrest last year on June 11, 2010

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Seeing is Disbelieving
by Edgar J. Steele

There are things in life that defy belief. Seeing them often is enough to set one on a path toward seeing unbelievable things at every turn. Seeing is disbelieving? Hmm…

The Red Queen of Alice in Wonderland Fame remarked that she often believed in impossible things; as many as six of them, all just before lunch, too.

A great many more people now are willing to disbelieve in the inherent justice of the American Justice System. They watched a jury in Boise convict me of four Federal felonies.

Sigh. Where do I begin?

You Could Be Next

This story will take some time and require several installments. If you have yet to hear anything about it, you will not believe it. You may not believe it, anyway. I do, however. I am living it. All too easily, you could be next.

I was convicted of hatching a plot to kill my wife, in which I allegedly hired an oafish Idaho handyman as a hit man. Already, something may not sound quite right to you.

A Case in Search of a Motive

Why did I want Cyndi, my wife of 25 years dead? I never have quite heard a reason that makes sense. First, Cyndi was told by the FBI that the motive was life insurance, but then they learned that both of us cancelled our policies years ago. Then, the FBI told her that the motive was my jealousy over her (fictitious) boyfriend. Cyndi quashed that by demanding that the FBI produce photos they said they had; of course, there were none.

Finally, the government settled upon a case I was investigating as motive, because I had communicated with a great many young Ukrainian women (with Cyndi’s consent and even, assistance) to determine if the Russian Bride business really was a human trafficking scam. First, as part of that case I briefly handled, then simply because I found the subject fascinating and worthy of writing a book about it.

Two more novel motives were presented at trial: (1) I was after our car “uninsured motorist” insurance, though I was a lawyer and would have known full well that death by pipe bomb is not “accidental,” so that no insurance ever could be paid. (2) divorce from Cyndi would be too expensive. Yet, the prosecutor failed to tell the jury that I had signed all my assets over to Cyndi. Cyndi was part of every aspect of my life, even my communications overseas to determine how the bartered bride business really worked, so I could write a book exposing the fraud to be entitled “Love and Other Four Letter Words” (subtitled “The Invasion of Planet Earth by Teenage Russian Mail-Order Brides from Cyberspace).

You see, I happen to love Cyndi. I know – that just isn’t fashionable in this day of throw-away relationships, but it is true.

I often have written of how lucky I have been to have had her. About the terrific kids we have. About how my family life serves to steady my universe. All true, even now, as I write these words from a jail cell in Northern Idaho while awaiting sentencing and endeavoring, as best I can, to get a new trial.

My Love Story

Let me try, first, to tell you of my love for Cyndi. She is my mate, pal, helper, lover, buddy, partner, mother of our kids… my first and last wife…my best friend. The love of my life. She is so much better than I deserve. I could go on.

There is a reason for this paen to my blushing bride, of course. To see that the Emperor of my story has no clothes, you must first get, on a visceral level, as do my closest friends, just how ludicrous it would be for me to want my wife dead.

I recall the moment I first laid eyes on Cyndi and the spontaneous burst of surprise and pleasure that crossed her face just before she cast her eyes down and first smiled for me that impish little grin of hers that I love so much. In less than two minutes, I was swept away, though I did my manly best to seem inaffected. It was love at first sight and, 27 years later, my heart still leaps up every time I catch sight of her again.

I could, and should, go on like this for a long time, but please know that I still see Cyndi as my one and only soulmate. There is much, much more to this story, though, and I have to give you at least an overview in this first installment.

My Way

At my lawyers request, I have kept silent (though, not silent enough) about my case. I have made no public statements until today and have yet to speak with anybody from any media outlet. I bit my tongue during my recent trial and, against my better judgment, agreed not to take the stand to testify in my own behalf. Fat lot of good all that has done me!

No more. I did it my lawyer’s way and now, at age 65, I am facing a mandatory minimum sentence of 30 years, with 70 years a very real possibility. Obviously¸ any sentence over 10 years is redundant to my life expectancy, especially in view of the medical problems I have seen in recent years (yet another lengthy, though relevant, story for another day).

Now we are going to do it my way, which likely will involve a good deal of sound and fury.

All My Trials

First up: Motion for a New Trial which my Federal judge will reject in summary fashion. I will have to rely on an appeal to get that new trial. It should be a laydown appeal, though, because this judge repeatedly committed reversible error (more than one story for other days).

We wrecked a sizable legal defense fund (the thanks for which will take more future stories than you will want to read) during the first trial, so I very possibly will have to represent myself at retrial. Spare me the jokes – all lawyers are fools (else¸ we wouldn’t even be lawyers, of course).

Lessee now, where were we? Oh, yes. What really happened? Here’s the executive summary:

The Idahun Hit Man

Larry the Idahun handyman/builder/junk hauler whose cousin’s name is Daryl, I swear (though I do not yet know if the cousin has one or more brothers also named Daryl), worked off and on for us for years. Larry knew we had hidey-holes here and there on the property, because he built some of them for us. Larry stumbled across one of three silver stashes in an outbuilding and then he searched and found two others. All told, Larry stole $45,000 in silver bullion from us at the then price of $18 per ounce.

Knowing I/we would discover the theft, Larry apparently decided that I/we had to go, so he set out to kill me/us with car pipe bombs. Like Wiley Coyote, Larry must shop at Acme, because neither of the two bombs that he then placed on the two cars I drive (one of which Cyndi drove about half the time) went off.

Larry says he removed the bomb attached to one car and then believed the other “fell off” when his cousin Daryl failed to see it after being told to look.

There is an alternate theory that explains the car pipebomb as having been emplaced after I was arrested, but the foregoing seems the most likely scenario.

It is undisputed that Larry sold silver on three different occasions (remember, he stole three of our hidden stashes) – he produced receipts for those sales (totaling just a few thousand dollars) during his testimony at my trial. Larry claimed I gave the silver to him as part of my $10,000 payment to him for killing my precious Cyndi. Larry did actually admit that I didn’t give the silver to him (he took it from one of the three hidey-holes, he said).

Making a Federal Case Out of It

Why did Larry then go to the FBI and fess up to his part in this sordid affair? In exchange for full immunity, of course. He still had to get me out of the way before I discovered his theft. I was beginning to mend from the four surgeries I had had in six months and I was starting to get out of the house.

Larry and I had been talking a lot during those six months, because he was helping us out with many things, including feeding our horses twice a day whenever Cyndi was out of town tending to her very ill mother who lives alone. I explained my difficulties with the ADL, the Russian Mafia, the FBI and others. All he needed to do was make one phone call in order to be conscripted into helping get me out of the way, which is just what he wanted.

Just a Coincidence

The ADL’s internet site hit piece on me was quoted in the very first court filing – coincidence? The FBI is alleged by us conspiracy theorists to be in bed with, if not controlled by, the ADL. More coincidence? Why did Larry go to the FBI rather than the local Sheriff or state authorities, like most of us would do? Yet still more coincidence? Larry said that he travelled nine hours to Oregon to ensure the bomb fell off the car that Cyndi then was driving, but he couldn’t be bothered to take the time to look for himself. Really? Of course, it is just coincidence that this interstate trip is the only thing that gave jurisdiction to the FBI…isn’t it? Do you still believe in coincidence? I don’t.

Ok, you may be saying – What’s the big deal? My word against the Idahun’s, so I should be exonerated without a fight. That would be true if not for those pesky audio recordings that Larry and the FBI claim memorialize my hiring Larry the Idahun hit man. But let’s save that story for the next installment in this epic affair, “Sex, Lies and Audiotapes.”

There is so much more to come in this story: Russian Mafia intrigue, teenage beauty queens, official (and unofficial) corruption, mail-order brides, Hannibal Edgar, the Tao of Ed, private jets, Tahiti…..and more, believe it or not. Remember, seeing is disbelieving.

With a little help from my friends and my lovely Cyndi, who resolutely has stood by me throughout this ordeal, I will get this and future installments out to my list and posted on my website , as well as others. Bear with us, please.

I was finally seeing some of the mail sent to me in recent months. However, I’m once again being moved and at this moment, no one knows where. So please visit www.free-edgar-steele.com for updates on where to send mail

-ed
Copyright ©2010, Edgar J. Steele
Forward as you wish. Permission is granted to circulate this article among private individuals and groups, post on all Internet sites and publish in full in all not-for-profit publications. Contact author for all other rights, which are reserved.