For Want Of A Nail

I Get Mail…

Organization after organization writes me (or emails me) day after day wanting money for their pet cause.*  And those who are engaged in attempting to ‘fight off’ Obama beat around and around the bush, highlighting various aspects of the man’s excesses, bur none of them - even the most staunch of the outraged - ever getting to the nub of the matter.  

“Obama knows that what he is doing is illegal; he just doesn’t care.’

Why?

Because he hasn’t been made to care.

How so?

By the basic fudging that has been going on.  Over his ineligibility for the office in the first place -   REGARDLESS of the authenticity of the copy of his - a - birth certificate that he authorized to be posted on the official White House web site, in order to attempt to quell widespread speculation on The Birth Issue.

The best - the very best - that one might get, in response, is:

‘Oh well; yes, he may not meet the strict standard of the definition of a ‘natural born’ citizen.  But…’

Citizen: You make it sound as if it’s not a very big deal.  Listen up: It is a very big deal.  The man is trying to take down the United States of America as a nation state; you people let him take the highest of high grounds to do it by.  That, by any legitimate estimate, qualifies as a very big deal indeed.  

Get thee behind me, you satanic verses of the party line.  

‘Oh well; we can’t do anything about that now. We have to deal with what is right in front of us’?  Ladies and gentlemen of the American citizenry: 

Little things can mean a lot.  For want of a nail, and so forth.  The Usurper needs to be nailed on his usurpation.  From which all else has flowed. 

What is really ‘right in front of you’ is the choice to live by Truth - the whole Truth - or not.

Your choice.

And make no mistake:

It is

your choice.

No one else’s.

—

* And attempting to get me to send double what I sent them previously - however much it was; a big special one-off or whatever - or at least half again as much, or, if I’m feeling really stingy, at the very least to send them what I sent them the last time.  At least that’s how it often feels.  From their very similar letters.

   Is there a formula that they all go by??  Including how often they hit you up???

   I don’t know about you.  But I am not amused.  And getting more unamused by the day.  As if - as far as they are concerned - this could go on.  And on.  And on..........