British— Not Russian— Meddling


By Anna Von Reitz

As most of your know, in my opinion and experience, every dog pile on Earth rests solidly on a British-built Foundation:

South Africa?   British.
Middle East?  British.
Drug Trade?  British.
Wars, Wars, Wars?  All British.
Commodity Hoards?  British.
Dishonest Banks?  British.
Moth-balled Federal United States?  British.
IRS?  British.
Bar Associations?  British. 
Racial Caste Systems?  British. 
Human and Child Trafficking?  British.
Sexual Perversions?  British. 
“American” Civil War?  British made to look American.
Derivatives “Bubble”?  British made to look German.
Territorial United States?  British made to look American.
ISIS?  British made to look Muslim. 

You simply cannot underestimate the sheer criminality and destructive power of the British Raj.  You can’t comprehend the audacity, mendacity, diabolical guile, and ferocious appetite of the British Crown Complex.  And when it comes to meddling, nobody does it better.  

That is not to say that they haven’t needed and had a great many collaborators all around the world, helping them out to help themselves to everyone else’s everything.  They have been loyally assisted by friend and foe alike. 


The lure of unlimited gain and perversion without fear of punishment is a powerful inducement for deluded, soulless people everywhere, so you find them in Bangkok and you find them in Baton Rouge, and you find them in Cairo, all ticking along like a well-oiled clock, smirking and nodding in a self-satisfied and superior way, flicking their little hand signals and grappling around looking for a secret handshake. 

I take no pleasure in pointing the accusatory Flying Finger of Fate at the Brits. I understand how severe their own suffering has been at the hands of their government.  

Fleet Street and Westminster and Parliament are Equal Opportunity Abusers. They will cheat and enslave their own people as fast or faster than anyone else, and you have to admit that where it comes to stealing land and private property, the value of labor, and the freedom to enjoy life, they have ruthlessly drained their Home Islands with the same vacuous lust that is their hallmark elsewhere. 

So in this entire Circus surrounding the ridiculous, groundless, politically motivated “investigation” into President Trump and a purported Russian connection and Russian meddling in the 2016 Presidential Election—-which has cost the American people enough to run the whole government — I didn’t have to think about it more than a nanosecond to know that, yes, the Brits were not only at the bottom of the investigation, but also most likely the ones meddling in our elections.  

The Pot always calls The Kettle black in their world.  Always.  Predictably.  

And here, drumroll…..a few miles outside of the Mainstream Media, but stalwartly reported just the same—– proof that it was the Brits, not the Russians, meddling in our elections: 

https://larouchepac.com/20180526/memo-president-trump-time-end-special-relationship-declassify-all-british-spawned-documents


How about it, Mr. Trump?  Shall we have an investigation into British Meddling — for the past 150 years?  

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Insurance Against Stupid People?


By Anna Von Reitz

Yes, yes, I am being attacked.  I am being called everything but what I am.  I am being identified as one of the “Evil Catholics” and “Evil Papists” and even as —God forbid — one of the child molesting fiends from Hell that I simply lump together as “vermin”.  


Unfortunately, there is not now and never has been a cure for irresponsible, ignorant and just plain stupid people, and so far as I know, there is no insurance to be bought against their mistakes and gossip and misconceptions.  

In every single case, these people haven’t bothered to read a single word I have written.  They are parroting whatever they’ve heard through the grapevine, regardless of where the grapevine leads or where it came from.  Here’s a case in point: 



If these folks know as much about this “intel” as they “know” about me, I wouldn’t waste the time to listen.

There are two major groups that hate my guts — the British Tories who have gotten fat as slugs by secretively bleeding America dry and the misnamed Illuminati whose Empire is falling apart—-they blame me.  I guess I am complimented.  There is also a Dirty Faction in the US Military that doesn’t like me much.  The feeling is mutual. 

So far, nine would-be assassins have been turned to pillars of salt.  The long-term criminal activities and Breach of Trust inflicted on the Americans by the British and French Governments and the filth at the Vatican continues to be exposed. The actual Evil Empire continues to fall apart.  The Dirty Faction in the US Military has a lot more to worry about right now than an old lady in Alaska.  

I am content.  I’ll own my enemies as well as my friends.

My friends can assist by countering their BS and complaining to YouTube and Facebook and wherever else you see this crappola, but there really isn’t anything I can do about it except “consider the source”—-or lack thereof.  

Anyone who believes “Agents Around the World” probably needs Remedial Brain Fart Lessons and a brand new Shinola Sensor anyway. 

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RB, Mountain Mission, and The Marines


By Anna Von Reitz

RB, Mountain Mission, and The Marines
I had a friend in High School who was a real cut-up.  He signed me up for the Marine Corps and I signed him up for the Miss America Pageant.
Imagine the confusion and consternation of the Marine MP’s who showed up on our doorstep looking for an AWOL recruit named Ambrose Martin Riezinger?  
Imagine my Father’s consternation dealing with these two, who were convinced that there had to be a strapping six foot two recruit hiding somewhere behind my diminutive façade.  After all, Ambrose showed up for the physical and intake interviews and he had excellent scores….
I sat hunched up in a chair like a molting bird through the whole fiasco.  That was my introduction to the Marine Corps.  I remember watching those two Marines unconsciously falling into marching cadence as they swung down our long driveway to their car and saying to my Father, “Those guys are real boneheads.”
“Yes,” he replied, also watching their departure, but there was something wistful in his eyes. “They are real boneheads. That’s part of what makes them who they are.”
I didn’t know then that I would fall in love with a Marine and that I would lose him in Vietnam.  I could not imagine that the Marines would win a special place in my heart and there would always be a bond of sympathy between the Boneheads and me.  Takes one to tell one, I guess.
Many of my Marine brothers have passed on.  The whole cadre I knew from Vietnam is gone, except for one lonely Winnebago, who lives so far out in the woods that God can’t find him for most of the week. 
And now, another Brother has passed on: RB Young, a Marine, a preacher, a teacher, a friend, a researcher, a patriot, a dog-lover, a world-class diver, surfer, and snow boarder….the list could go on and on, but it could never explain all that “RB” was or how he touched so many lives, including yours.
The work he did as an independent researcher will change your life and the lives of millions of Americans for many years to come— and except for this brief remembrance, you would never have cause to know that he ever existed, that he ever swooped like an eagle down the near-vertical face of a mountain, that he ever breathed the air of Big Sur and the Big Sky of Montana.
He’s gone, like the wind and a ripple.
Peacefully, in his sleep, with his dogs at his feet. 
He lived a good life, a full life, but he was always ready to go at a moment’s notice.  When God called him home, you can bet his affairs were all tidy and his kit bag was packed tight.  His Testament was written on the fly-leaf of his well-thumbed Bible and it was less than a paragraph, telling us what to do now.  
RB never had kids of his own, but he adopted all the lost and lonely, all the troubled and confused cast-offs of all kinds and colors and ages that he found along the way.  They became his children, quietly, the way grass grows, the way a Good Man finds his way into your heart.  They are mourning today for what they had and what they lost, but they are also thanking God. 
I know that I am feeling the same way.  I woke up this morning with tears on my face.  I was crying in my sleep over losing RB, but ironically enough, I know he is happy.  I know he was ready.  I know he is laughing at us and saying, “No, Dude, this is great…..just put the coffee urn over there on that table….”
We will all miss him, those lucky enough to have known him, and we will all feel lessened by grief, because a bit of our own heart that was grateful and lucky and brave has gone on down the road with RB, crossed over the bridge where all his dogs are waiting for him, and where there’s always a deep-powder ski slope ready to ride and a gentle blue ocean to dive in.
I had hoped to get him up to Alaska this summer for a little vacation time.  He worked so hard all last winter, ferreting out the information that The Living Law Firm needed, getting his part all ready to go. In vain, I told him to get some rest.  In vain, I told him to slow down. 
He had a mission and he knew what it was better than I did.  I was a bit taken back when, over Memorial Day Weekend, he announced that it was done.  Completed.  He’d found what he was looking for and he’d shared it with the world.  His part, as he said, was finished. He could finally kick back – and he did. Just not quite in the way the rest of us were hoping for and expecting.
Good-bye, RB.  Flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.  May the Good Lord be your companion and His Love sustain you.  May the ties that bind us, bind us still.  Thank you, dear brother and friend.  

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Still More Than Just North Carolina


By Anna Von Reitz

“Page 5 of this link (marked page 2 of 30) shows all of the other states that are doing the exact same thing as North Carolina is doing….” 


Here’s still more proof that Bob and Larry don’t know what is going on and have been beating me about the head and neck for “proof” and then ignoring the facts when I give it to them. 

I suppose there will be something “suspect” about my “sources”—- nobody should believe official documents from the North Carolina Legislature, right?  


The fact is that all the states have privatized their operations for years and people are just now waking up to the dangers and abuses that this unnatural blending of public and private functions encourages. 

While Field McConnell is exposing the dangers of having a British corporation handing itself out thousands of American “government” contracts and continuing to allow this corporation — Serco — to function as Paymaster for our military, still others are exposing the illegal and immoral operations of trans-national corporations like Vanguard, Black Water, and State Street.  

Hundreds, if not thousands, of former CIA, FBI, and other law enforcement agency members are stepping forward to fill in the blanks.  

Two days ago, Minutemen captured two card-carrying CIA Agents transporting 1300 pounds of cocaine across the Mexican border for the Sinaloa Cartel, claiming that the cocaine “belongs to” the CIA and was part of an official “mission”.  Right. 

Since when is the CIA dealing in cocaine?  Only since the Korean War….. 

The agents were incredulous when they were detained by the Border Patrol and even more incredulous when their bosses disallowed any knowledge of their activities. 

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D-Day’s Birthday


By Anna Von Reitz

Being born on June 6 is always an odd mix of solemn memorial to the invasion of Normandy during World War II on this day 74 years ago, remembrance of JFK, also born on June 6, and the silliness that often accompanies my celebrations on this same day.  


This morning, before eight, I got a phone call from friends doing a group sing of the Happy Birthday Song…. as I held the phone receiver out away from my ear, the dogs were softly howling and I had a mental picture of my friend, Cindy, seated in the passenger seat of the family car trying to put on her mascara on her way to work and singing the “Happy Birthday Song” at the same time….. 

My glory truly is and has always been having such friends…. and howling dogs, of course.  If past experience is any teacher, there will be several such incidents today and the dogs will get in their choir practice. 

This afternoon we will have a spaghetti supper in Big Lake, Alaska, and strawberry shortcake— the traditional repast for my birthday from time immemorial.  Nobody remembers any longer exactly when, how, or why that became “my” birthday fare, but having such a pattern established makes life simpler, so I let it stand. 

Just think of a Little Old Lady Party with howling dogs and pouring rain.  Lotsa shredded Asiago.  Garlic bread.  Splashes of red wine on the carpet. 

Yesterday, my son paid me back for years of  Mom Care.  He totally faked me out. We were traveling together and he asked to take a side trip to Barnes and Noble…. only later did it turn out that he had used the opportunity to buy me a birthday present, and that that had been his entire devious intention for the whole foray.  

And he opened the door for me going into and out of the store.  

I smiled.  

Life is good.  Somehow or other in the midst of everything, he learned to care for others and be polite and earn his own money and give God the glory.  

No Mom could ask for a better birthday present than that. 

I don’t know what to expect from the coming year or why it should be any different, but I feel somehow hopeful.  It’s like a change in the weather or the direction of the wind. There is a sense that the world is changing and awakening and beginning to think again.  

Thinking is good.  It causes people to change their own minds and then, they go forth and change the world.  Maybe this is the year when we reach a communal tipping point and decide that we are not going to live in fear of our own government anymore, aren’t going to take any vacuous excuses for the rampant abuses, and aren’t going to be silent anymore.  

That would be another great birthday present.

Ooo-rah, America!  

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Important Point!


By Anna Von Reitz

We are consumers of all the “services” of all these incorporated public-private “governmental service providers”. 


As consumers we have a different role than to meekly obey and accept whatever they provide. 

How would you react if a restaurant served you rotten food and charged twice the price published on their menu?  Hmmm? 

What if they advertised a movie and sold tickets to it, and then showed a completely different movie?  One you didn’t like or want to see?  What would you do then? 


How would you treat the situation if someone ran up your credit card without your knowledge or permission?  Would you know how to complain?

What if someone claimed to own your house and to be the guardian of your “minor ESTATE”—-???   Are you past the age of 21?  Do you have a brain?  Do you have the knowledge to cancel their presumed Powers of Attorney and Powers of Appointment on the record of the court?  

Remember— you are the consumer of their services.  You are paying for their services.  You have the final say-so on what services you receive and what services you deny.  

Get your Ralph Nader Attitude on and go forth.  

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The Latest Red Herring Argument


By Anna Von Reitz

The scam artist’s goal is always to create some kind of confusion, and then to profit from it in some way.
It could be to confuse your identity literally, so as to steal it. (No, your Honor, that’s John M. Doe, he’s a British Citizen, not John M. Doe, the noted American national.)
It could be to confuse the capacity in which you are acting, so as to bring false accusations against you. (But your Honor, he’s a licensed Commercial Vehicle Driver, not a private man merely going to the grocery store.)
It could be simply to confuse the public, and so delay action on pressing matters of state. (We don’t really know what color the sky is….sometimes it’s blue, but sometimes it’s grey or white or even black and we don’t know what to do as a result. Best to sit on it and wait.)
The modus operandi is always the same: create a confusion or problem, and then steer toward whatever result you want to come out of that confusion or problem.
Here is a good case in point.
Recently, in patriot circles, there has been a debate introduced about “enumerated” and “non-enumerated” powers. This is because the Constitutions delegated nineteen enumerated powers to the federal government.
The word “enumerated” — then as now — simply means “numbered”. We numbered the powers granted and described them in detail so that there could be no mistake on the part of the federal government at any level regarding the set limits of their activities and authorities.
The confusion being introduced is between “delegated” and “non-delegated” and “enumerated” and “non-enumerated” powers.
So let’s cut to the chase: All powers mentioned in the Constitutions are delegated powers whether enumerated or non-enumerated.
All powers that are enumerated are powers delegated to the Federal Government.
All powers that are non-enumerated are not delegated to the Federal Government and are reserved and retained by the States and People per Amendment X.
Think of it this way — If you are creating a business plan and organizational chart to run a dog kennel, you have no reason to mention cat care.
It is the same way with the Constitutions.
These documents are creating an organization to exercise the delegated and also strictly enumerated powers entrusted to the three branches of the Federal Government—Federal, Territorial, and Municipal.
They barely mention the non-delegated and also non-enumerated powers of the States and The United States of America because those topics are outside the scope of the Constitutions.
Those are all cat care issues that are the responsibility of the States and the People.
The rest is easy.
If we did not specifically delegate a power to the Federal Government, say, the “power” to wash our socks, then we may safely assume that it’s no business of the Federal Government’s, and we are not under contract to accept (and pay for) their sock washing services, even though such sock washing services may exist and may be offered.
The proper way to think of the Federal Government –whether Federal, Territorial, or Municipal – is as a group of three foreign subcontractors, each with different responsibilities.
The actual Federal Government was supposed to handle mutual defense, proper coinage, international trade relations, etc.
The Territorial Government was responsible for management of Territories until such time as they became States of the Union.
The Municipal Government was supposed to run the District of Columbia as a common meeting ground for all the States
Simple enough.
All worked well until the Civil War came along, and that illegal commercial conflict allowed an evil and surreptitious change in the structure and functioning of the Federal Government.
Quite simply, the British Territorial Government crept in under color of law and darkness, and substituted itself for the Federal Government we are owed.
We have the complete history of this process showing how Territorial States of States imposed upon the people to create and adopt “new” state constitutions in the wake of the Civil War.
Unknown and undisclosed to the people, these were not rewrites of the constitutions in effect prior to the war, but instead were completely new “States of States” —- Territorial States of States — usurping the position of the original lawfully designated Federal States of States.

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