Fort Stevenson, ND. ~ Between 1883-1890. ~ Dakota Akicita facing a firing squad instead of giving up his Wapaha (Headdress of feathers) while boarding school children are forced to watch. If we’re going to get things right in this country, we must not be afraid and face the truth of real American history. We owe this to our children and the future of this great nation.
There is always a somebody or somebody’s who try to squash or hurt a truth teller. It hurts, these attacks, but over time we become stronger and more resilient to the pain of it.
Unlike William sees it, below, I don’t see truth telling as bad intent.
Well you can tell everyone I’m a down disgrace Drag my name all over the place I don’t care anymore
You can tell everybody ’bout the state I’m in You won’t catch me crying ’cause I just can’t win I don’t care anymore I don’t care anymore, d’you hear?
I don’t care what you say I don’t play the same games you play
‘Cause I’ve been talking to the people that you call your friends And it seems to me there’s a means to an end They don’t care anymore
And as for me I can sit here and bide my time I got nothing to lose if I speak my mind I don’t care anymore I don’t care no more
I don’t care what you say We never played by the same rules anyway
I won’t be there anymore Get out of my way Let me by I got better things to do with my time I don’t care anymore I don’t care anymore I don’t care anymore I don’t care anymore
Well, I don’t care now what you say ‘Cause every day I’m feeling fine with myself And I don’t care now what you say Hey, I’ll do alright by myself ‘Cause I don’t
‘Cause I remember all the times I tried so hard And you laughed in my face ’cause you held the cards I don’t care anymore
And I really ain’t bothered what you think of me ‘Cause all I want of you is just to let me be I don’t care anymore Do you hear, I don’t care no more
I don’t care what you say I never did believe you much anyway
I won’t be there no more So get out of my way Let me by I got better things to do with my time I don’t care anymore Do you hear, I don’t care anymore I don’t care no more You listening? I don’t care no more No more
Oh yeah, yeah Oh yeah, yeah Oh yeah, yeah
You know I don’t care no more Don’t care no more No more, no more, no more Don’t care no more No more, no more
No more, no more No more, no more No more, no more No more, no more No more, no more
Did you know it has a twin, 200 miles away, also named after St. Michael?
That’s where things get really strange…
This is the “twin”: St. Michael’s Mount in Cornwall, England.
It’s also a tidal island with a chapel, remarkably similar to its French counterpart, and only accessible at low tide.
Here’s a map of the two. You can draw a line between them just over 200 miles long as the crow flies.
But what happens if you keep extending that line?
You get this: a straight line all the way from Ireland to Israel. Along it are 7 medieval monasteries linked to the Archangel Michael.
What are they, and is this just a strange coincidence?
St. Michael is one of the biblical archangels. He’s best known for defeating Satan in the New Testament, and is usually depicted with a sword or spear during this heroic moment.
Each point on the line has a curious link to him…
The westernmost point is an island called Skellig Michael. Medieval monks started worshipping here in the 7th century, and built a church honoring Michael around 950 AD.
Next is St. Michael’s Mount. A monastery was built here in the 8th century, and it was later gifted to the same Benedictine order of Mont Saint-Michel.
But local legend says the link is far older, and Michael was sighted here by fishermen in 495 AD.
Then, Mont-Saint-Michel in Normandy. People call it the 8th Wonder of the World for obvious reasons — it can be hard to believe it’s a real place.
This one has the most curious origin story of all…
In 708 AD, an oratory was built here by a local bishop. He had been visited by Michael in a series of visions and instructed to build a shrine on the island…
Why? Because this was the exact point at which Saint Michael defeated Satan (in the form of a dragon).
This is stated in a 9th century Latin text recording the origins of Mont-Saint-Michel.
Next is Sacra di San Michele, at the peak of Mount Pirchiriano (near Turin).
It’s also on an impressive pinnacle, and its origin story is a vision of St. Michael. In 980 AD, he appeared to a hermit and instructed him to build an abbey here.
Next is even older. The Sanctuary of Monte Sant’Angelo is the oldest shrine dedicated to St. Michael in Europe.
8th century writings say he appeared in 490 AD, and again in 663 — when his spectacular apparition helped the Lombards defeat invaders in battle.
Then, a small Greek island called Symi. Most of its religious buildings are dedicated to Michael, including this one in Panormitis. It dates all the way to 450 AD, and was built around a miraculous icon of Michael…
Last is the Stella Maris Monastery in Israel, on Mount Carmel — close to Nazareth.
It’s also a vantage point, but not dedicated to St. Michael. It’s where the prophet Elijah lived, built over a small grotto of his…
Similar imagery to Michael is associated with Elijah, wielder of a sword.
And the monastery is dedicated to the Virgin Mary — Queen of Angels. Perhaps it’s fitting that the line ends here, at the entrance to the Holy Land…
So, what is this all about? Some say the line represents the stroke of St. Michael’s sword that sent Lucifer to Hell.
But how accurate is the line exactly?
order to capture all of 7 points in an arc connecting the end points, the line has to be about 20km wide.
Sacra di San Michele falls exactly in line with the two extremes.
This is what’s known as a “ley line”. Of course, you can draw them between all sorts of places and eventually find one. There’s even another relating to St. Michael across England:
They’re usually put down to sheer coincidence. But what about this one?
Well, there are many more accounts from the Middle Ages of him appearing miraculously across Europe, and plenty of other sites bearing his name.
But these are the most beautiful and significant of all, arranged curiously in one great swing of a sword.
Were they named intentionally by medieval Christians to form a line? Or did they simply fall into place…
Looking at Mont-Saint-Michel, it’s certainly hard not to conclude it was divinely created…
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Here we are, between worlds. Stagnant are we, waiting to see what direction this river will take.
Will it flow?
Will it get jammed, as in a winter rage?
Will it dry up?
Will it create a new path?
I need not know. I need not know the players. I need not know my role. I need not know who’s right or who’s wrong, or how it ends.
I need not know what I deserve, or the fate of any other.
I release the dream and I step forth into a new reality, whatever that may be.
May the collection of life’s challenges be remembered as I pull from the strength gained thru them, resilient, persistent, determined … determined to live as happy as I am able despite those who would snuff the promise of reward.
I release the dream, while it still lives.
If it’s meant for me it will be.
After all, everything experienced, everything, can be used to shoot the arrow forward, or break the bow.
You know how many times I’ve been told I’d never make it on my own? That I lacked what it took to care for self? Many. And I said piss the f off!! And at times I survived on top ramen and baked potatoes, but I actually really love baked potatoes and top ramen. Public transportation … bicycle transport … sleeping on the floor in a sparsely furnished apartment .. for a time even, houseless, sleeping in my car. f-them. Freedom often doesn’t look extravagant. But it’s priceless and worth fighting for.
They target the mind, filling it with jargon and trash. They need you in agreement with whatever storyline they give you. They need you to agree to your own limitations, your helpless inability to affect positive change. They need you to rely on them to tell you who you are and what you are capable of.
Stop confirming their lies, their made-up storyline about you! Don’t agree, or take on as truth the bullshit word magic spoken over you and your life to make you small or break you, to minimize you.
They take your song, the blessing of God given essence, coded particularly with your own self for personal expression in this world, and they change the notes, the tune, the tempo. And they’ll rewrite it occasionally, rescript you .. f them bishes.
Some folks can’t stand to see you shine.
They’ll demand you utilize this shiny goodness to fulfill their wishes and demands.
Man!! A friggen TREE is friendlier than many family members or “friends”.