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Waco Texas– A Botched FBI Siege: Cleanup In Aisle 47
Helena Glass

The MS is condemning and/or taunting Trump given he chose Waco as the site of his latest rally.   Waco on the anniversary of the Waco Siege of 1993 between the Branch Dividians and the ATF/FBI.   Given the span of time, the changing dynamics, and a greater insight into our government, the Waco Siege takes on a different story.   

The account that Koresh had no education but memorized the entirety of the Bible is an important notation.   It would indicate that perhaps he had Asperger’s.   The account that there was child sexual abuse was completely obliterated by medical professionals who examined all 25 surviving children.   The ‘underage bride’ discreditation has also been quashed given the legal age of marriage in Texas is 14 with parental consent.

Therefore, what we have is a cult living as a cult doing their own thing that would appear to be legal within the state of Texas.   Except for the STASH of weapons, they might have remained under the radar.   But Koresh and the other 40 males of the property legally bought quite an inventory as defense in the event of a government insurrection upon his property.

The ATF felt the weapons might be used to harm civilians.   As they declared after the fact.   The ATF felt that raiding this compound despite there having been no previous harm – was justified.   Bringing tanks and gas cylinders that ignited upon contact was approved by newly minted AG, Janet Reno.

At this point, Reno was working under Bill Clinton, and alongside Eric Holder, Bill Barr, and Jamie Gorlick.   The Rascals…looking to initiate the Soros World Order.   The Waco massacre was a MEDIA MESS.   The FBI fabricated stories, lied and attempted to redirect the events.   Sound familiar?  Should – because this is what the FBI CONTINUALLY does.

Unfortunately for the 80 children, women and men who were shot and subsequently burned in the incendiary furnace that consumed their compound the apology from the FBI that maybe they could have done things differently – doesn’t sit well.    The tanks expelling those gas incendiaries – well we didn’t think they would cause a fire…     

This is not Jim Jones – this is an off-the-grid group of anti-government, anti-control young people seeking to live life as they see fit without breaking the law.   The child assault allegations were found to be frivolous and everything above board when physicians examined the surviving 25 children found them healthy and perfect.   In other words this was an off-cult of less than 200 who chose a lifestyle that was a bit 60ish.   If they hadn’t chosen to stash themselves an arsenal of defensive weapons … history might be different.

I am reminded of the ‘commune children of the 60’s’.   No one sought to burn them at the stake…

Waco was Clinton”s introduction into chaos, disorder and blackmail.    At this point of Clinton’s presidency he was already embroiled in three different sexual assault accusations.   What better way to deflect and detract than a the creation of a false allegation of child sexual assaults and polygamy against a small unknown cult.    I doubt even Clinton believed the ultimate outcome of his handler’s recommendation would result in one of the most explosive Crimes in decades.   The government just assassinated over 80 American citizens including children –


Theodore Olsen, an attorney for Gibson Dunn & Crutcher, lost his wife in the 9-11 Pentagon hijacking.    A member of The Federalist and a Paul Ryan advocate, Olsen once commented that he felt that it is morally acceptable for the government to lie. Lying is for the Greater Good: 

Lying is good. Lying is to protect the feeble American Patriots. Pledge Allegiance is simply – another lie.  

Yet, he revealed then and now and every moment in-between, exactly what the American People are fighting – LIES.

9-11 was created to cover for the Pentagon’s blackbook missing $trillions in ‘taxpayer money’.   After 9-11, the missing money agenda was buried.   Just like Clinton buried his affairs in a Waco Siege.   Just like the botched Waco Siege required CLEANUP after the FBI and ATF went off all prevailing dictums of protecting human lives.   Just as the FBI and Ray Epps are busily trying to bury the photo and video evidence that reveals the real insurrection was our government against The People.


James O’Keefe video/audio reveals Pelosi giving the orders to ‘shoot to kill!”.   Reveals AOC telling ‘fckng’ Pelosi to do her job and round every last Magat up and put them away forever!   The Insurrection is our government against the American People.   The complete destruction of America as we know it in favor of a secular NEOM pod city for the elite – think Hunger Games.

While Koresh was not a messiah, he was not a threat either.   The Davidians had never harmed anyone.   They abided by the tenants of Texas Law at the time.    FBI … Pre-emptive.   The same justification given for the assassination of Ashli Babbitt.

It likely is no coincidence that Trump chose Waco for his rally in Texas.   But if Americans were to research their history with a bit more disassociation bias, one might actually learn some valuable lessons.   One source I used was Encyclopedia Britannica…   remember them?   When I was a youngin, a friend actually read the encyclopedia from A thru Z.  

Anywho.   We are now privy to ‘improprieties’ (to be kind) – within our illustrious security agencies.   We know they lie.   We know they cheat.   We know our CIA wants all MAGATS imprisoned.   We know the Cult Mafia has created the global recession/depression purposefully.   We know the Pentagon colluded to assassinate us via an MRna poison.   Our children have died.   We bury our brothers and sisters.

And yet – we lay comatose in our recliners watching TV and telling others they need to DO SOMETHING!   Pointing emphatically.   Until one day, we look out the window and the landscape is a desolate mass of blackened fallout.  


Growing up in Germany, my father was stationed there as head of Defense Intelligence for Europe, – and my brothers and I necessarily tagged along.

We lived in East Berlin before the wall, Nurnberg and Heidelberg.   Most often we lived off-base in crumbling mansions rented to the Army.  Underground tunnels, fake libraries, bombed stairways that led to nowhere, the houses had stories to tell and I loved to walk between the pillars of those stories.

In Nurnberg, our cellar held a vast vault, the steel door perhaps 6″ thick!   Empty then, it once held the treasures of  Hitler’s world of Art Confiscation.   And our residence was once Hitler’s home.  Frau Bette felt it was a story that I should be told, and never forget.   And so, one afternoon she opened the vault and with her 8 assorted cats she sat me down and began the story of WWII…  I never forgot.

Traveling throughout Europe, often times by private train in the middle of the night, we would be escorted by armed security and directed to run to our private car flanked by men and guns.  This was my normal.    Other times we traveled by car to enchanted old world cities throughout Italy, Holland, Austria, Luxembourg and of course, the small cobble towns with which Germany was replete.

It was a time of spooks and spook parties.  Cold War.   The good guys were evident – the bad guys well pronounced.   While propaganda was alive, I was oblivious.   I frequently wonder what my father could tell me today – although the one time I did try I was met with the spook line,  ‘if I tell ya, I gotta kill ya’.  Choosing life, I was happy to simply be his – daughter.

Nearly every country was represented at the spook parties, each person slyly pretending he wasn’t a spook.  An odd game.  But one far less complicated than what we are subjected to today.  In my father’s droll sense of humor, he took to wearing a floor length black cape, a fedora, and thick black leather gloves, whilst using his riding crop for emphasis, the dramatic persona of wit in the game of spook.

It was a lovely time, privileged in many ways, ordinary in others, but it formed a different me, that wasn’t like others.

IN this my life, my father taught me three core values:  integrity, honor and respect.   This was the code.   I have held to this code my entire life, thru trials, thru cavernous faults, and capsized Sunfish.   I refused to succumb to the triviality of those who marauded and instead sought to make this my legacy in teaching my Three Sons.   It has become our heritage within this cycle of values.

There are few people that understand what these three words truly mean.  There are fewer that can put them into action.  And there are fewer still who wear them in their heart.  It is those who wear them in their heart that fumble, make mistakes, fall, and get back in the saddle.  That is what we do.

And so, I am a different soul, born within something my father gave to me, a heart that can never die no matter the beatings.

Stationed back to the States as a teenager, none of us really wanted to leave Europe, but we, necessarily, tagged along.   The Pentagon was my father’s destination, Virginia was ours and I found myself in somewhat of a culture shock.  Much more naive than my peers, it was a difficult transition.

At the ripe age of sweet sixteen, despite my mother’s objections, my father sent me to Paris to study the arts so as to become more refined and cultured.  Dance took hold, and I quickly found my first ‘gift’.

Drafted into a company at 18, by 21, if I was going to pursue dance fully, New York was the only option.  Juilliard offered, I declined.  So my father sent me to college where I graduated with a degree in Finance and Accounting.  My first major tectonic shift.   A world outside of Art.

Many tragedies, much joy, more drama than I care to remember, I ended up living on a Passport 40′ sailboat in Sausalito with my husband ten years later.  My father had taught me to sail as a teenager and I quickly came to find – after the purchase – that my husband was a complete and utter novice.  But we were determined souls and sailed daily in the Bay, up the Delta, and ultimately to Santa Barbara, LA, and the Channel Islands.

Many stories abound of those sailing years, near catastrophes, much comedy, and much Life!

Many moons passed, I lost a husband and was raising my three sons when I perchance was introduced to a sculptor.  With much pleading, he agreed to be my mentor and train me in the art of bronze sculpting.  Four days a week, and one year later, he set me free.

I had once again found a gift, a passion.  It was an enormous joy!

Immersed, I sculpted. I created. Prolific and dedicated, my talent shined!  And I was happy for a time.  But life interjected with my second husband’s infidelities, the dark web, disease, lies and theft.  The storms were violent in their thrashing.

Still, with time, I remembered what my father had taught me, the values that would hold me together and the unending hope and belief that one day I will be loved as I know it is meant to be, where the legacy of a life is not in simplistic selfishness, but in the meaning of why we are here.   Perhaps I am a female version of Don Quixote, a free spirit, a bit off, a bit different, riding Rocinante and fighting windmills!

What I know is the world we are witness to today is not a Cinderella fit for me – and yet there is only one way to get back in the saddle and ride.   Holding a bridle of Honor, Respect and Integrity.

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