Are You There God? It's Me, Gidget, Religion

Vampire Weekend

Dedicated to Candace Conti and other little boys and girls who are dead or molested.

www.seekYeHoWaH.com and escape Christendom.

Jehovah’s Witnesses need not apply. Where did anyone say that anyone would be serving that god in the end? Oh, you’re right. He does factor in…

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— Angela Glass (@Baxley) October 30, 2014

I wanted to design software for the Watchtower when I was 15 years old at it’s headquarters, “Brooklyn Beth’el“.

Guess what? God created Eve, and Eve was naked. And it was good. God said so. He also created weed. He also said it was good to eat.

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I was turned down. They don’t generally “take sisters“.

Now I am a Silent Lamb. Sacrifice me.

Here’s what I did instead: www.linkedin.com/in/angelamarieglass.

“Angela experienced a crisis from an ill marriage and lack of support from the congregation.”

I am a Silent Lamb?—Sacrifice me.

For the record, you don’t lose your faith when you stop believing God is Jehovah. But Melissa doesn’t know what losing my religion is all about. Girl, I was a hoarder, and I still am though that was back then. Show you a few things, pretend to be my friend? Oh don’t mind slandering the Baxley’s while you’re at it for the blood of the noble Niblick’s.

Funny, baxleyvsunitedstates.org versus the Dominican nephew determined to shame me—calling me the “shameful aunt”.

I took it in silence. I have learned how to turn away so it doesn’t sink in. No, not really. It really hurt. But hey, I haven’t got time to buy a new deodarant stick of Tom’s every two months — so I use it but it doesn’t work. I have no cash and thus I stink and am not buying it on Amazon and paying for shipping. So I am waiting until someone thinks I stink enough to do something about it. They have a pretty high tolerance.

Thanks mommy.

When I asked if they were going to stay there—in the DR—he sold me this line from his daddy’s mouth: they aren’t living there, they are missionaries. — For Christ’s sake, who hasn’t heard of God? Oh, yeah…

God isn’t Jehovah. Jehovah isn’t peddling love, he’s got Watchtowers to print and has just discovered the Internet.

Well I was in the middle of pestering this corporation called “The Watchtower” on Twitter, when I realized I needed a mood swing. Being a heavy hitter dealing with porno and pedo’s is a bit much for this do-gooder.

I mean the internet is for porn, right?

Well anyhoo, distracted again from that to get the video to prove the point that I’m not lost on how I feel about life, I’m just so DAMNED tired of having to stay up all night to work against all of you.

So I /quit.

Yeah, see I’m not a cultural fit. I’m not a woman in technology and there’s no way come hell or high water, well—we all know which—I would never have a daughter, as I could never let her see this world. Dear God, preserve my seed within me. Save my belly for the beast. I am yours and have ever been devoted. I am sorry for so long I thought that the Watchtower’s disapproval of me was somehow was the directive from God. Dear God, if you don’t love me—Um? Who could you?

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A couple of weeks before she died, Rebecca informed us that she was about to be a big girl of six years old, and Becca was a baby name. Once she turned six, she wanted everyone (not just me) to call her Rebecca, not Becca. She made it to six. For almost twelve hours, she was six. So Rebecca it is and must be.

 

Pedophile alert!

Travis Foote, you touched me one too many times. And my mother blamed me. The Watchtower will pay and you shall be certain you won’t see the outside of that cell. Enjoy.

Tangled Up in Jews

I’m ready. I’m not a clown, exactly. I’m the last generation.

I’m the joker. Hello thief, it’s time.

Sleep No More with @xtianbovine @dens

Dear Watchtower…

Continue reading

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Documentation, Religion

Travis Foote — Watchtower Pedophile, Murderer and My Babysitter

As a child my sister and I were placed in the care of a pedophile in our congregation—Meet Travis Foote who, with his wife, baby sat us kids.

Travis raped his two daughters (younger than Heather and I who were in our early teens).

He later is convicted and sentenced when he, with another man, raped, beaten, and then throw a woman over a bridge left for dead.

She survived the 35-foot fall with a broken neck and brought Travis to a measure of justice.

Travis Foote — Watchtower Pedophile, Murderer and My Babysitter

Travis Foote — Watchtower Pedophile, Murderer and My Babysitter

Travis Foote raped his two daughters… and then…

I didn’t learn about Travis until after I’d moved away from home. I moved to Texas, the Foote’s moved to Oklahoma.

Travis had sex repeatedly with his own nieces who were barely ‘old enough to bleed’.

Back home, Travis and his family (his wife Michelle and their children) were in our congregation.

My mother let us stay over at their place. She thought it was okay because Michelle, his wife, was around. Yet we weren’t allowed to play at our friend’s homes if they had older brothers.

I once threw a milkshake on him at the dinner table for something he did to me under the table, literally. I got sent to my room for the milkshake incident. Funny how things work out, huh?

No one knew about Michelle’s daughters being raped. He wasn’t convicted of raping his daughters because no one brought that to the police.

(See Watchtower related policies which protect predators inside the congregation.)

It’s just a side fact in another case, where his “former wife, Michelle Finney, testified that Petitioner had told her that he had had sexual relations with other young girls. She further testified that Petitioner had told her about his sexual fantasies involving young girls. See TR III at 634-648.”

Michelle testifies “told her he had tried to have intercourse with H. F., his cousin who was then twelve or thirteen years old, but that “it hurt her and he had to stop.”” (see court appeal Travis filed)

He had sex with the other cousin, A.F. prior to her being 15 years old.

Michelle found a note from her to Travis stating “she didn’t regret what had happened between them”.

He had sex with another girl, Tamara when she was 15 or 16. Later she becomes his girlfriend.

At the trial her then 11 year old niece testifies as the star witness, detailing Travis’ abuse of her when she was seven years old.

Travis Foote

Foote does not dispute:

In a charging information filed on December 16, 2003,…

Petitioner was charged with the offenses of

  1. Rape in the First Degree,
  2. Forcible Oral Sodomy, and
  3. Assault and Battery with Intent to Kill.

The charges … involve a violent sexual assault of a female victim by two men.

The victim was taken by the men in a pick-up truck to a remote location in Pottawatomie County where she was raped, beaten, and then thrown over a bridge.

The victim survived the attack, although she sustained serious injuries in the approximately 35-foot fall from the bridge, including a broken neck … [After an initial mistrial],… Petitioner was charged with the offenses of

  1. Rape in the First Degree,
  2. Assault and Battery with Intent to Kill, and
  3. Kidnapping …

[T]he jury found Petitioner guilty of all three counts and recommended sentences of thirty years, twenty years, and ten years, respectively.

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Documentation, Religion

Child Checks Victoria on Children Check

A child in Victoria, Australia pooled his pocket money together with three other buddies in order to pay $69.70 to launch a private criminal prosecution against the Jehovah’s Witnesses of the Watchtower Bible and Tract Society in February.

The Victorian and Civil Administrative Tribunal heard a religious vilification complaint against the Watchtower by Mr. Unthank in May, after the Watchtower said people who left the Watchtower, as he had, were ”mentally diseased”. Continue reading

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Are You There God? It's Me, Gidget

Daddy and Father Al

Years ago my aunt, the nun, apparently worked in the same parish as Father Alfred Kunz, a rebel Roman Catholic priest who performed exorcisms. They became friends, and like all friends of the Niblick’s at some point he was at the house with the family. Father Al admired my father’s art and invited Matthew out to work on his church in Dane, Wisconsin. What artist would deny the Church as a patron, not even Da Vinci?

Just a few years later, my father dies in a tragic accident in the lonely hours of that pre-light March morning.

Nobody foresaw it on that cold, gray March morning, but the aftermath of Kunz’s death would get strange, and then even stranger. There would be stories of exorcism referrals, a satanic assassination and, eventually, innuendos of sexual impropriety by Kunz, who was known at St. Michael simply as “Father Al.”

Later, there would even be allegations that his murder could somehow be linked to evil in the most unthinkable of places: the vast Catholic hierarchy that Kunz was tied to as a diocesan priest. Some even blame the Vatican in Rome.

In the absence of an arrest, the Kunz case also has developed into a religious Rorschach for many — certainly among those close to the case who consider themselves traditionalists within the troubled Roman Catholic Church, which all but invented the Easter holiday as Western civilization knows it today.

Fifteen years later—March 4, MCMXCVIII—fifteen years ago today, Father Al was found murdered.

“Fifteen years later, someone could still be haunted…

The all-consuming rage at the cockeyed old priest; the uncontainable hatred, day after freezing winter day. The wee-hours confrontation in a dim school hallway outside the priest’s office, where he’d slept like a castaway for the past 31 years.

The attack, the frantic struggle: It all ended in a heartbeat, when the killer plunged a razor-sharp blade into Father Alfred Kunz’s neck, slicing the major artery below his jaw.

And then came all the blood — warm, slippery torrents of it, coating the painted cinderblock walls and the worn, gritty floor tiles. Almost instantly, Kunz fainted into a lifeless heap, his white T-shirt and black slacks soaked from the gaping wound. According to emergency room medical experts, he would have lived for about another minute, probably in a deep, dreamlike haze.

Asperges me domine… Thou shalt sprinkle me, O Lord…

… et mundabo. …and I shall be cleansed.”

Pedophilic Satanism in the bed of Roman Catholicism—the Vatican, otherwise known as the house of Babylon the Great—exorcisms, animal sacrifice, Luciferians; it’s a terrifyingly truthful tale entitled “The Devil and Father Kunz: An Easter tale about murder, the Catholic Church and the strange paths of good and evil“.

Kunz had also traveled to Rome and met Pope John Paul II as the pontiff prayed alone one morning at a secluded Vatican chapel.

One of Kunz’s closest associates was best-selling novelist Malachi Martin, a one-time Vatican insider under Pope John XXIII, who convened Vatican II. Martin would later leave the Vatican circle and become an exorcist, as well as the author of six religious novels, one of which, “Windswept House,” was compared to “Dr. Zhivago” by the Washington Post in 1996…

“What Luciferians resent is interference with someone they regard as theirs,” Martin told me in that interview, adding that his friend believed his life was in danger in the weeks before his death. “We are all convinced beyond anything that Father Kunz was killed in hatred of the faith as punishment — and as an example for the rest of us.”

Martin also repeated his belief that the aftermath of Vatican II was nothing less than a coup by Satanic forces – that, he said, was why he eventually broke with the church’s new mainstream after Vatican II. Martin wrote about the alleged dark influence often in his novels. In “Windswept House,” for instance, he described a satanic animal sacrifice linked by telephone to the Vatican’s Chapel of St. Paul – and the account does bear eerie similarities to a calf mutilation that occurred near Dane almost exactly 24 hours before Kunz was last seen alive.

It’s been thirty years later now, and I wonder more than ever of the short days of my father on this earth. I find 33 a little young to feel so world weary, just look at all my father got in by 23.

I had wondered about whether or not my dad had ever made it to San Francisco the year he hitch hiked across the United States to California for his summer vacation when he was 15. As I realize that he escaped from a Moonie camp, whose home base was in Boonville north of San Francisco out past wine country, it dawns on me, of course he did.

And maybe one day I’ll make it out to Father Al’s church in Dane, Wisconsin, to see my father’s art, though I doubt it… I imagine it would be hard to concentrate with the image of the slain Father Al, hanging before me, throat cut from ear-to-ear, beheaded and bled.

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