TO: STATE OF CALIFORNIA GOVERNMENT & DOJ ET AL
~ SKILLED MEN ARE WAITING TO ADJUDICATE YOU. III% ~
ACTS INVOLVING THREAT OF EXPOSURE, TO FACILTATE COOPERATION, SHARE IN THE SPOILS, CATERING TO LIMITED ~ MODERATE INTELECT PROFESSIONS WHILE CAUSATION WITH CONFIDENCE INTERACTIONS OCCURS WITH THEIR SUPERIORS TO STAGE SAFETY FOR ALL.
(PISS IN YOUR BOOT IF MY VERBIAGE IS NOT TO PAR LEMON)
THE MONEY IS DIVERSION, AND THEY ALREADY THREW THE D.O.J. CHOICES UNDER THE BUS (IF THEY GET IT)
ONCE MORE INTO THE FREY
FOLLOW THE HISTORY AND BE STEADFAST ~ PARDNER THERE ARE NO KINGS OR QUEENS HERE. J.S.L.
, former Professor of English at Tokyo Kasei University (1986-2013)
Maybe there’s a 19th-century poet who wrote those words, but the closest I know of is a line from Shakespeare (maybe at the tail-end of the 16th century in this case). It’s very close to your line, and it begins Henry V’s famous speech (in Shakespeare’s play Henry V, not in real life) before the Battle of Agincourt. Here’s the speech:
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead. In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger; Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let pry through the portage of the head
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'er whelm it
As fearfully as doth a galled rock
O'er hang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest English.
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument:
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'
THIS IS THE ORIGIN OF OUR U.S.A. TYRANNY
'BRITISH PETROLEUM' ?
RENDERING THE DEAD & THOSE CONVICTED OF - 'SECTION SUB-SECTION CRIMES' (ALONG INTO THE WHALE OIL)
THE GADSDEN FLAG OF COILED SNAKE