err
•
Ie'
Gift Better.
CherryPicd.com
1M
?
? Magazine December, 2015
November 2015 * Volume 1 * Issue 3
1
CONTENTS Page 1: Foreword. We are gathered here today …
M E
7
Page 7: “Let’s Get Small” by Zach Mann. What comes to mind when you think of God? And, does Natalie Wood ever enter the thought process?
R
R Y
C H
Page 10:
10 Page 22:
I
Who would have thought we’d
S
benefit now from all those years Beth Arnold lived in
T
The City of Love?
M
“Myth of
Fingerprints.” Rick Baber is beginning to take interest in some of the countless conspiracy theories and False Flags.
“Christmas in Paris”
R
22
? Magazine December, 2015 YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT YOU’RE GOING TO GET
A
A s
December 2015 * Volume 1 * Issue 3
CONTENTS Page 29: Angelia contemplates whether or not to consume the herbal treat in “Brain Food.”
29
Page 31: New writer, Starra Dotson, on
31
some of the issues faced by adopted children in “My Adoption Story.” ABOUT OUR DECEMBER COVER
Page 35:
Just think
before you say
35
something you might regret to Camille Nesler. “See You in Hell”
o Page 39: Afterword. Mass Murders. Who’s to bless? And who’s to blame?
39
The moment we saw this image from Beth Arnold’s photo essay on Christmas windows in Paris, we started begging her to let us use it for the cover. Sometimes, begging pays off. See “Christmas in Paris” for more stunning images.
? Magazine December, 2015 YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT YOU’RE GOING TO GET
? Question Mark Magazine Vol. 1 No. 3, December 2015 Published by TigerEye Publications P.O. Box 6382 Springdale, AR 72766 E: cybermouth@hotmail.com Copyright 2015, Rick Baber Question Mark (?) Magazine is electronically published monthly, free to online subscribers, by TigerEye Publications, through ISSUU.com
Statement of Copyright: All rights reserved. Individual authors hold copyright on all materials herein. No part of this electronic magazine may be reproduced – except by ISSUU.com – without the written consent of Question Mark Magazine or the author. Email requests to copy any materials, including photographs and art work, to the address shown above. Please feel free to share the publication, or unaltered excerpts from it, via social media, with credit given to the Question Mark Magazine and the author. Acceptance of advertising does not carry with it endorsement by the publisher. Opinions expressed by Question Mark Magazine or any of its authors, do not necessarily reflect positions of our advertisers.
Advertisers: Please contact us via email: cybermouth@hotmail.com
For Submission Guidelines, email: cybermouth@hotmail.com Please indicate “QM Writer Guidelines” in subject box
?
Magazine
December 2015
?
It is a generally accepted rule in southern living that one never discusses religion in a social setting. This rule exists, I suppose, more as a notion of common sense rather than a simple matter of etiquette, though I have never felt intrinsically bound by either notion. Therefore I shall dive headlong and naked into these forbidden waters, certain to suffer the consequences of scraping my nose on the shallow bottom of the corresponding gene pool. I'm not claiming any intellectual superiority over anyone, just trying to illuminate not what is known, but simply that there is so much more to
I contend that science will eventually prove the existence of God, and that this proof is and will continue to be resisted by those who are stuck in antiquated absolutes due to unrealistic interpretations of earlier prophecies. The world is round,
know.
it seems, and has been for a very long time. These two facts are more important than the apparent glibness of what this statement obliges, but one must start SOMEWHERE. The world, (the earth), is round, not because the Bible tells us so, but because everything known in the universe is round, from the tiniest of atoms to the most magnificent star, and beyond. The world, (the earth), is old--very old by our standards, but not so old in the known universe. A person or group of persons who do not accept these obvious facts are investing in the art of making God very small, when in fact, WE are
?
Magazine
very small, and acceptance of this truth is wonderful and liberating. Science continues to give us small peeks into the vastness of who God is, and vicariously, ourselves as well. For the purpose of this epiphany, though, let's allow ourselves to get small. We are knocking on the door of 2016. We have come to realize that our planet is but a hint of a tiny speck of cosmic dust in an ever expanding universe, which for all points practical, has neither a beginning nor an end. Consider that on the clearest of earth nights, the stars we are able to see with our most powerful telescopes represent a space so miniscule that our own Milky Way galaxy is less in size than the December 2015
7
thickness of a gnat's wing in comparison. Couple with this knowledge, (which is what it is), the difference between that WHICH IS KNOWN compared to that WHICH IS NOT KNOWN, equal in its vastness of difference in size and scope. We are small. Such factual realization compounds the great mystery almost beyond the level of human contemplation. We are very small. GOD. Who is He? When I was a very small child, my family regularly attended a Methodist
It was there I first conjured an image in my mind's eye of who God is and what He must look like. He
Church in Morrilton, Arkansas.
was a man of about sixty, dressed in a black robe and sitting at a judge's bench while working a control stick in his left hand, looking out over the world and monitoring EVERYTHING. He had close-cut dark hair parted to the right, a stern face, and a sad look of worry in his eyes. I loved Him because He loved me, and my feelings for Him were that simple and unrefined. I was four years old. I wasn't afraid of Him because He didn't seem to have any particular focus on me, which was also fine as far as I was concerned. He made me feel safe, I knew that He was there, just in case, and somehow, such an arrangement was good enough. God was benevolent, and I admired that in Him. I had been told that I was created in His image, and since I had yet to be taught the high art of self- loathing, I knew that God had to be a fantastic Guy, knowing the same was true of me. The more I learned about religion, though, the more I came to know what a disgusting pile of worthless flesh I really must have been. My friends, the Methodists weren't too heavy on the hellfire and damnation thing, but our neighbors to the west were full blown biblical hard liners, and were marvelous purveyors of guilt and shame which scared the 8
?
Magazine
? hell out of me.
I had, after all, by age five, succumbed to evil temptations that were stronger than I was equipped to resist. I had
I had seen the movie "Gypsy" and, (forgive, O Lord), experienced a lust-filled boner. To top it all off, and for
fibbed to keep myself out of trouble.
reasons which remain mysterious to me, allowed the little girl next door to place pennies along the crack of my ass, only to be caught by my brother, St. Dan. St. Dan made sure that none of these transgressions went unnoticed and was surely God's right hand man and he was out to see me burn in an everlasting hell. Everlasting hell!! Eternal suffering in the lake of fire!!! And so it was that I would be God's castaway into the fire laden land of broken souls, misfits, losers, mistakes, devil spawn, the great un-pure, undeserving, wretched, evil, selfish, and just plain bad. I suffered this predestination of fate for years!! I was scared shitless! "If your right hand causes you to sin," the Good Book said, "cut it off!" So.......which is the guilty appendage here, I wondered. Oh, God!! What to do, what to do??? Let's reason this out, I thought ‌ hmmm‌ scissors cut paper, rock breaks scissors, etc., etc... It would be a bit tough to cut off my penis without a hand, right? Better I should just be sent straight to hell on a screaming fireball than to try and live by these oppressive rules that God hath written. Okay, by now, you the reader are no doubt wondering how we've gone from the vastness of the universe to the small matter of whether or not to cut off my penis because of Natalie Wood. If I do go to hell, I hope that she is there so I can thank her in person. Eventually, as I reached puberty and was already beyond redemption, I was free to use my hands and penis as I felt inclined, and I felt inclined often. When you are walking on thin
December 2015
ice, I reasoned, you might as well be dancing. In spite of all of this, I couldn't help but think that the deck had been stacked against me from the start. I was scared and all alone in my shame and
You can't imagine how relieved I was when Jesus came along and picked up the tab for all of my transgressions. What a friend I had in Jesus, the hippie dude with the S on his chest. He assumed the role of arbitrator
fear.
between me and the Guy with the control stick, and, like a court appointed defense attorney, plea bargaining was His specialty; thus, I made a lot of deals. I'm still here, so maybe it worked, though I have certainly fallen short of maintaining any degree of perfection. Grace is still worth seeking, above all else, as we grow older, it all seems to become clearer. I find it particularly pertinent that Jesus' life is one that is worth emulating. He taught of love for His fellow man with a devotion to higher ideals, including charity, benevolence, and forgiveness. In a world gone so starkly mad with dogma, a simplicity of faith in all that is good is sustaining. In my estimation, Jesus, and His influence is evidence of Divine Intervention. The miracles, the virgin birth, etc., are less important than the simple lesson of love and tolerance. It is the lower part of mankind's existence to dilute the message with power plays designed to control the masses. Fear is an effective short term motivator but it is useless in the pursuit of higher awareness. Everything that we are as a species in evolution demands that we strive not for our glory in God's eyes but for the continuation of the experiment itself. We can't achieve this by not updating our archaic belief system.
?
Magazine
?
Jesus remains the example of what I feel to be the quintessential life well lived, but I must qualify this by saying that there are, in my beliefs, multiple paths to enlightenment. The notion of hell cannot continue to be the reason that humanity chooses a closer walk with our Creator(s) because there is no hell. The notion is a manufactured scare tactic used to promote a particular idea or set of ideas and is the cause of much unnecessary strife in today's world. None of us know who God is, but we must know by now that killing or injuring other divine creations, because of what they do or don't believe, is not consistent with any idea of love, forgiveness, or compassion. Mosquitoes are bigger than piss ants and chiggers and God is much bigger than you.
December 2015
9
Living
CHRISTMAS IN PARIS A CELEBRATION Beth Arnold IT WAS GOOD to be an American in Paris on Thanksgiving. French friends who celebrated with us delighted in our American holiday Southern style—roasted turkey and cornbread dressing, sweet potato casserole, fresh cranberry and orange relish, and pie, pie, pie. No fancy French tarts on that day. But Christmas in Paris comes wrapped in glitter. The Champs-Élysées lights up like sparkling stars in the winter sky, and Champagne corks pop all over town. Near the gorgeous Opéra Garnier in the 9th arrondissment, the Grand Magasins Printemps and Galeries Lafayette—as well as Le Bon Marché in the hallowed 7th arrondissement—celebrate the season with animated and spectacularly dressed windows. Scores of people line up day and night to become enchanted by them. With the recent Paris tragedy in mind, I’d like to pay homage to the indomitable joie de vivre of France…and of my dear Parisian friends.
#NousNeSommesPasPeur
#JeNAiPasPeur
This is a photo essay of the windows I loved one year at Printemps.
10
?
Magazine
December 2015
Living
Paris department store Printemps Christmas Windows. Photos by Beth Arnold
?
Magazine
December 2015
11
Living
Paris department store Printemps Christmas Windows. Photos by Beth Arnold
12
?
Magazine
December 2015
Living
Paris department store Printemps Christmas Windows. Photos by Beth Arnold
?
Magazine
December 2015
13
Living
Paris department store Printemps Christmas Windows. Photos by Beth Arnold
14
?
Magazine
December 2015
Living
Paris department store Printemps Christmas Windows. Photos by Beth Arnold
?
Magazine
December 2015
15
Living
Paris department store Printemps Christmas Windows. Photos by Beth Arnold
16
?
Magazine
December 2015
Living
Paris department store Printemps Christmas Windows. Photos by Beth Arnold
?
Magazine
December 2015
17
Living
Paris department store Printemps Christmas Windows. Photos by Beth Arnold
18
?
Magazine
December 2015
Living
Paris department store Printemps Christmas Windows. Photos by Beth Arnold
?
Magazine
December 2015
19
Living
Paris department store Printemps Christmas Windows. Photos by Beth Arnold
20
?
Magazine
December 2015
Living
Paris department store Printemps Christmas Windows. Photos by Beth Arnold
?
Magazine
December 2015
21
? Rick Baber
Not many memories have survived in the ol’ Rickser’s cobwebbed brain for the last half century. The very first is a dream (supposedly a dream) I had one night, circa 1958, that Goofy (yes, the cartoon dog) was popping out of the closet in my bedroom, whispering “boo!” before closing the door again. I screamed for my mother, who came running, as she always did. I told her Goofy was in the closet, and he was scaring me. For some inexplicable reason, she didn’t believe me. Even more fantastic is the fact that she wouldn’t open the closet door and look for herself. She just told me to go to sleep. At some point, I must have done so. To this day, she doesn’t believe that he was really in my closet. Next, maybe 1960, I got to stay up late one night with my dad, lying on the hardwood floor of our little house in Fort Smith, watching Jack Parr on “The Tonight Show.” I don’t remember much about it. Some black & white men in dark suits, smoking cigarettes and talking about things I didn’t understand – and didn’t care to. It was just cool that I got to stay up late and watch it with my dad. Around that same time, there was a man running for president, and I knew what a president was. This man was different though. He was a different kind of man, called a “Catholic,” and many of my friends on 57th Lane, as we conducted our daily activities – like riding our bicycles behind the mosquito trucks spraying a thick fog of DDT, pretending we were fighter pilots in the clouds – echoed their parents’ concerns about this kind of man being our president. It was apparently a point of contention, and the folks at the Carney brothers’ Freewill Baptist Church were resolute in their beliefs that somebody else should be president instead.
?
Magazine
A little later, 1962, I remember my mother, at that same house, filling up Pepsi bottles with water from the kitchen sink, and then re-capping them. Word about the neighborhood was that was so we’d have good water to drink when the Russians dropped an Atomic Bomb on us. I knew what war was, too. I had seen it on TV, and played it in our back yards with the Carney Brothers and Tony Dillon – shooting them with boards, mostly stolen from the construction sites around our block; and there was a new TV show out, called “Combat!” and it was all about war. But the bad guys were supposed to be Germans. These “Russians” were a new enemy to me, and I didn’t know why they wanted to drop an Atomic Bomb on us – whatever that was; but I was glad we’d at least have clean bottled tap water to drink if they did that. Fast forward to November, 1963. We had moved to Little Rock for my dad’s new job. I was walking home from school with my little sister, standing at the crosswalk where the Safety Patrol kid, complete with a badge and a flag, and wearing a mop-top Beatle wig, uttered the words “Poor John-John,” as we walked across. “John-John is dead.” Of course I didn’t know who or what he was talking about. He was a 6th grader, and I didn’t speak their language. But when we got home, my mom was there, crying. She wrapped her arms around both of us, and told us that the president had been shot. This was the Catholic president that everybody had been so worried about a few years before. My mom really liked him now, and was pretty upset that he had been shot. It wasn’t the Russians, either. It was some guy in Texas, where my uncle J.C. lived. I don’t recall her using the word “killed,” but “shot,” to me, meant the same thing. Everybody we shot with stolen boards was killed, and then they couldn’t shoot back at us. That was the whole point. Tuning in to the conversations of the adults over the days and weeks after Walter Cronkite told us
December 2015
23
all about it on TV, it slowly became apparent that nobody really knew why the president was shot by that tee-shirt wearing man in Texas – or why the man in Texas was shot by the man in the gray hat just a couple of days later. By shooting the bad guy, that made him the good guy, right? Some didn’t think so. They argued about it. Seems like they argued about it for years. Maybe the tee shirt guy didn’t do it at all. Maybe the gray hat guy was in on it with him, and wanted to keep him quiet. Maybe the vice president had it done, so he could be president! Maybe it really was the Russians! Those bastards! Regardless of what we saw, with our own eyes, on TV, any time there was a group of three or more adults in a room talking about it, there were three or more opinions on what really happened. And that pretty much continues to this day, 52 years later (actually, coincidentally, exactly 52 years as I begin this article).
? had ended – meaning it wasn’t anything that concerned me. Blissful ignorance wasn’t as an unforgivable offense in the 70s as it is now. There was no CNN. No Internet. No cell phones with push notifications. If you didn’t care what was going on in the world, all you had to do to ignore it was not turn on the TV at 6 o’clock, and not read the newspapers. Hell, that was easy. But, among those who did pay attention, the scandals and conspiracy theories continued. Today, there is no escape.
Such was my introduction into the world of conspiracy theories, and there have been many of them since. Growing up, I’ve heard tale of many others before as well
Figure 1GEORGE BUSH on THE NEW WORLD ORDER
Coming of age in the mid-60s and early 70s, there were, no doubt, many other scandals and conspiracies, but who had time for them? There was music to listen to, and girls to chase, and motorcycles to ride, and wine to be made from yeast and Welch’s Grape Juice. Watergate was the next really big one. It came along just in time to catch me not giving a flying flip about politics. I was about to be a senior in high school that summer when it happened, and by my first year in college, I was able to completely flunk a quiz about it. The only thing I knew was that the Vietnam War was bad; Nixon was bad; Nixon was busted. So, I figured it had something to do with the war. That also ended while I was a senior – at least the draft
24
?
Magazine
On November 15, 2015, there were coordinated attacks on innocent civilians in the city of Paris, reportedly by ISIS/ISIL terrorists. There isn’t anybody over the age of 10 who has to be told who ISIS is, because we now live in an age where information is instant, persistent, relentless. You can’t hide from it simply by being a disinterested high school or college student. Whether you seek it out or not, information will find you. And included in that information are the inevitable conspiracy theories. Just when you think you might have an understanding of what took place, here they come. they’re called. Here’s the Wikipedia definition: “False flag describes covert
December 2015
operations that are designed to deceive in such a way that the operations appear as though they are being carried out by entities, groups, or nations other than those who actually planned and executed them. Operations carried out during peace-time by civilian organizations, as well as covert government agencies, may (by extension) be called false flag operations if they seek to hide the real organization behind an operation.” With Paris, comes the latest False Flag theories. . This is actually not a revelation new to the Paris attacks. It’s been going around the interwebs for quite a while now. But it’s a good starting point for explaining, as I understand it, the whole grand scheme … the broader New World Order theory that seems to tie many of these “conspiracies” together – like a Lebowski rug. ISIS is an invention of those seeking to establish the New World Order, according to the theorists. Al Qaeda, the previous boogeyman, also invented, apparently just wasn’t doing the trick. So, an even meaner, more ruthless enemy had to be invented in order to further convince Americans, and the rest of the world, that it’s OK for governments to intrude into their citizens’ lives, disregarding their rights of privacy in the name of security. These governments are, of course, all controlled by a “high cabal” of very rich and very influential people whose ultimate goal is to reduce the population of the planet, and then rule over it as kings. As if things aren’t already going pretty well for them. By their spying on our every move, I guess, they can determine who gets to stay, as their subjects, and who has to go. But, in order to keep the populace from rising up and slaying them, they need to convince us all that we should be afraid; and that’s where ISIS and Al Qaeda come in.
?
Magazine
? This is a quote from a website called humansarefree.com , in an article entitled The High Cabal that Controls the World: “The wealthiest families on planet earth call the shots in every major upheaval that they cause. Their sphere of activity extends over the entire globe, and even beyond, their ambition and greed for wealth and power knows no bounds, and for them, most of mankind is garbage – “human garbage.”
It is also their target to depopulate the globe and maintain a much lower population compared to what we have now.” Well, that’s pretty scary. It’s all very convoluted, and it’s difficult to understand or explain how so many of the conspiracy theories are tied together, pointing to the same culprits who will ultimately, if not stopped, achieve their goal of becoming rulers of the world – as-if they aren’t already. As one who isn’t “blessed” with wealth and power, it’s even more difficult to understand the “why,” that all these ultra-rich conspiracists would feel the need to undertake such an enormous endeavor given the fact that they’re already as comfortable as humanly possible. But we can’t be concerned with the “why.” The urgent thing, according to the theorists, is that we understand the “what.” So, where to start? I Googled “Conspiracy Theories,” and found this Top Ten list from Time Magazine: o o o o o o o o o o
The JFK Assassination 9/11 Cover-Up Area 51 and the Aliens Paul Is Dead Secret Societies Control the World The Moon Landings Were Faked Jesus and Mary Magdalene Holocaust Revisionism The CIA and AIDS The Reptilian Elite
December 2015
25
Of those, the only one that doesn’t appear to relate to the New World Order is the Paul McCartney being-dead conspiracy. But I bet, if an exhaustive-enough search was done, a connection could be found. You should be able to click the links and read what the Time writers have to say about these theories, but it’s nothing more, really, than a little poking of the fun at the theorists. The same applies to most of the “debunking” websites. Not much real evidence to dispute the theories – mostly ridicule and conjecture. As any good conspiracy theorist knows, the best weapon the conspiracists have in combatting them is to convince everybody else that they’re nuts. It isn’t hard to do. Take that from someone who believes in Ancient Aliens. Another subject for another time, although there is a tie-in to this as well. We’ll get to that. But first, let’s briefly re-cap the Top 9 (forget the Walrus for now) above. The JFK Assassination: Aside from the popular theory that Oswald – that friend of the commies – was not acting alone; aside from the theory that the CIA was pissed off about the botched Bay of Pigs Invasion and set the whole thing up; aside from the belief of many that LBJ just really wanted to be president in a bad way, these things don’t play into the New World Order grand conspiracy theory. But there are others. One of several conspiracy theories that Time ignored in their short piece, was that the Vatican had Kennedy killed. There’s some confusion over who runs the High Cabal, but it’s a cinch that the (very rich and influential) Vatican is part of it. Why then, you may ask, would they have killed the first Catholic president of the United States – especially after they went to all that trouble to assure that he was elected in the first place? Kennedy, it seems, seeing that the office was actually attainable, may have started putting his responsibility to the American people – or maybe
26
?
Magazine
? he just saw a more clever way to win the votes – ahead of the interests of the Vatican. He started speaking out in public on the fact that he would not be a lackey for the Catholic Church, and would govern not as a Catholic President, but as a president who just happened to be Catholic. That sat particularly well with the good protestant folk, especially in the south, and he was actually getting attention from them. If his tactics were merely a ploy to lie to the people (as-if a politician would do that), get their votes, and then go ahead and be the Big Bishop of the USA, he must’ve forgotten to let the Vatican in on it. And he must have sounded particularly convincing in his 9/12/60 speech to the Greater Houston Ministerial Association, because that’s the one that sealed his fate. Couple this with the Vatican’s intention to keep the Viet Nam war alive, and you have another president eligible to have his face pictured on currency. Oh? You didn’t know about the Vatican being responsible for the war? Here’s a quote from pacinst.com :
“The Vatican played both sides against each other in this Vietnamese Civil War. They controlled Diem in the South while advising and making secret deals with Ho Chi Minh in the North. Thus, however the war turned out, the Vatican would triumph and have control in Vietnam. President Kennedy’s attempt to halt the bloodbath incurred the undying wrath of the instigators of the war — the Jesuits of the papacy. …The Jesuit controlled politicians in Washington wanted to continue the war in Vietnam. They wanted to create a Catholic power in Southeast Asia. They wanted to maintain their control of the international drug market that they had held for 400 December 2015
? league with the former colonial powers of the President
years in the Far East. When Kennedy stood in their way, he had to be removed. The Jesuits had John Kennedy assassinated.”
region, namely Britain and France, and in opposition to the Iraqi people's claim on their own land and especially their natural resources.”
There’s a whole lot more on Kennedy on that website. Recommended reading for anybody interested in conspiracy theories. The 9/11 Cover-Up: The 9/11 Commission concluded that the attacks of that day were, basically, what most of us understand them to be – 19 middle-eastern hijacker-murderer bastards who were members of the terrorist al-Qaeda group, working on behalf of Osama bin Laden, on suicide missions. In the report, the CIA and FBI take some heat, as does airport security; but the presidents before, during and after the attacks are pretty much exonerated. The actions of that horrible day did, however, give George W. Bush complete and total justification for invading Iraq – seeing how 15 of the ter’ists were from Saudi Arabia; one from Egypt; two from the UAE; and one from Lebanon. But bin Laden was from … Saudi Arabia. But al-Qaeda was from … Afghanistan. Anyway, the 9/11 attacks justified the US invading Iraq. What the Commission was covering up was that the leadership of the United States government, as part of the big conspiracy of the High Cabal, set up the whole thing in order to justify the invasion of Iraq. This was necessary because … because … give me a minute to look that up. OK. This, from deoxy.org: “We believe that this was a war to re-divide and redistribute the fabulous markets and resources of the Middle East, in other words this was an imperialist war. The Bush administration, on behalf of the giant oil corporations and banks, sought to strengthen its domination of this strategic region. It did this in
?
Magazine
“But,” you may say, “we didn’t take the oil from Iraq. We left it all there!” Did we? Recent gasoline prices at the pump, here in northwest Arkansas, at least, at $1.63, are as low as they have been since around mid-2008; and 2004 before that. If supply and demand is a factor at all, there’s got to be new oil coming from somewhere. Are they secretly sneaking it in now from the Middle East, after rebuilding the bombed-out facilities there? The more nagging question regarding high-level government involvement in the 9/11 attacks in order to justify to the American people an invasion to take control of the oil fields of Iraq is this: Why didn’t they set it up better? If the identification of the terrorists was fabricated, why would they tell us the murderers were from Saudi Arabia, UAE, Egypt and Lebanon? Why wouldn’t they just tell us
December 2015
27
they were all Iraqi? That would, at least, cut down on much of the criticism Bush got for attacking the wrong country … wouldn’t it? Still, the 9/11 conspiracy theories are among the most prevalent. Al-Qaeda didn’t exist at all until it was invented. This was reportedly said by Robin Cook, a former British Foreign Secretary:
“The truth is, there is no Islamic army or terrorist group called Al-Qaeda, and any informed intelligence officer knows this. But, there is a propaganda campaign to make the public believe in the presence of an intensified entity representing the ‘devil’ only in order to drive TV watchers to accept a unified international leadership for a war against terrorism. The country behind this propaganda is the United States.” Those of us interested in exploring some of these theories might like to speak with Mr. Cook about that statement. You know, to just, maybe, get a little more insight. But that’s not possible, because he’s … dead. Conspiracy Theory: Robin Cook was assassinated for those comments. But, again, was it Robin Cook that made that statement, or PierreHenri Bunel, a former French artillery and intelligence officer? He’s still alive. Did the Cabal screw up yet again and kill the wrong guy? They do seem to make a lot of mistakes for an organization capable of literally manipulating the entire planet to their will. Consider, for the sake of argument, that there is now an al-Qaeda, and there is now an ISIS, even if they had to be invented by the CIA, or the Cabal, or whomever. Maybe, like leading the American people to war, they – the actual nutbags out there blowing themselves, and everybody else up - had
28
?
Magazine
? to have a little convincing as well. Could that be the reason that GWB attacked the wrong country? Because, whether by design or not, doing so, it has been suggested, is what created ISIS. Now, either that was sheer genius – creating the ultimate boogeyman out of thin air to line the sheep up behind the Cabal, against a common enemy, marching toward the New World Order; or it was a bumbling act that resulted in extreme luck, tantamount to winning the lottery while getting struck by lightning a second time. Go figure. Even without the statement that may or may not be from Cook, theorists have ample evidence in the video of the collapsing Twin Towers to prove that the buildings didn’t collapse from burning, but by controlled demolition – which had to be set well in advance of the planes hitting the towers. How could that possibly have been done without the help of somebody inside the government? Then, there’s World Trade Center 7, a third building that collapsed, and it wasn’t even hit by either of the planes. Many say that giant steel-framed building such as these have never collapsed due to fire, until 9/11. And, as a semi-related issue there’s the Oklahoma City Bombing – where “experts” contend that there’s no way in hell all that damage could have been done by a truck bomb holding fertilizer; but consider this just a side-note, since Time didn’t see fit to include this conspiracy on the list. It does, however, tie in to the overall High Cabal/New World Order theme, in general, because the action gave the government another excuse to trample on the privacy rights of citizens – something they need to be able to do in order to complete their agenda – without too many questions being asked. This article’s getting a little longer than planned. Let’s continue it in the next issue. NEXT: Area 51; Fake Moon Landing; & the Reptilian Elite.
December 2015
? and
settled in to watch some TV. “I don’t understand why people like this. This stuff is crap,” I kept thinking to myself. And then the thought hit
me,
Brain Food Angelia Roberts
For several weeks
I had contemplated eating that itty, bitty brownie which was about the size of a half dollar and filled with a medicinal (wink, wink) ingredient. I was skeptical that I even wanted to try it. But, it was a gift. Burning one, has never been my thing, and it had been years since I partook of anything of that nature. My first venture into the illicit drug world was my last year of high school when I partied hard with the band. And, my first experience was memorable when I agreed to go along and get along.
Either would have been preferable to my parents finding out. Combine the drama of being a teenage girl with some narcotics and it was a little wild. A few years while hanging out with my roommate’s teenage brother and his friends who had a passion for smoking but were still too young to drive, being the irresponsible adult who was still a teenager myself, I joined in. I may have spent hours sitting on the floor staring at the same photo before I could muster up the energy to leave. I decided then and there that was not my drug of choice. Somebody pour me a drink! Bottom line, smoking was for the birds. Years, well decades later, I tried it again. Home alone and far from the maddening crowd, I crawled up in the middle of the bed, fired one up
?
Magazine
But, before I could decide who to clue in on the wonderment of advertising, it hit me, “I was stoned!” And, then it became funny. That laughter ended when my youngest daughter arrived for a family event and found the remains in a jewelry box. “Mother! Look what I’ve found! You had better be able to explain this!” Busted. Before I could enter a guilty plea, she decided another family member had probably left it there and I was home free. I was giddy with the knowledge someone else was getting nailed. “I will talk to them and make sure that doesn’t happen again,” I told her. Feeling like a drug dealer who had just pulled off a big deal I didn’t give it anymore thought. And just about the time I got comfortable she was back with accusations after she confronted her person of interest and learned it was all mine. Busted, by my own kid! Yep, my illegal past came back to taunt me when I held that little brownie in my hand. My curiosity of how it would taste was weighing heavily on my mind as well as the fact I thought it might be cool to sit back and watch Ted, the talking teddy bear. Well, it was a gift!
December 2015
29
Living went on to explain that his family also adopts a little sister for him. When my mother finished the story, she asked me if I knew that she and Daddy loved me very much. I answered yes, and that I loved them too. She told me that I was like the little boy in the book, I was “chosen.” “I’m adopted?” I asked. She replied, “Yes.” “Ok, Mommy!” I jumped off her lap, and ran outside. Years later, my Mother told me that that was one of the hardest things she ever had to do. Before she told me I was adopted, she and my Father had had intense discussions about whether or not to tell me, when to tell me. One day she just did it, and I could’ve cared less. I told all my friends, in that little kid way of announcing something important, that I was “chosen,” wanted by my parents more than they were, because I was adopted.
My Adoption Story By Starra Dotson
I was four years old when my mother sat me down to read a special book. You may think a fouryear-old cannot remember an event at such a tender age. You can when it impacts your life. My mother always read to me at bedtime, so reading to me before cartoons in the afternoon was a little strange. I crawled up on her lap. I could tell by her tone of voice I needed to listen. The book was about a little boy who was, “chosen.” “Chosen,” meaning that his adoptive parents wanted a baby of their own so bad that he was loved unconditionally the moment his adoptive parents received him from the agency. The book
?
Magazine
Over the years, I came to understand the difference between being an adopted or biological child. When I was six, my parents were surprised with a biological son of their own. My father had a son from his previous marriage as well. My mother would tell others that she had one each – step, adopted, biological. Growing up together, the three of us took on personality traits and favored each other enough that some people didn’t believe us. This all sounds awesome, right? The perfect, blended family that can be in that adoption book. My idyllic, adoptive bubble intact, bonding with my brothers, adored by my parents. A phone call changed all of that. Back in the day, people had multiple telephones in their homes. If someone was on a call, you could pick up another phone, and listen/participate in the conversation. My father’s mother called on a December 2015
31
Living Saturday (again, when it impacts your life you remember these things). From what I know now, they were having a heated discussion about my older brother’s visitation issues with Dad’s ex-wife. My grandmother proceeds to have an operator contact my older brother in order to participate in a conference call with her and my father. Here’s where I come in. All I heard on my side was that Grandma and Brother were on the phone. Excitedly, I ran into my parent’s bedroom, and picked up the extension. Before I could even say hello, I hear my grandmother’s angry voice asking Brother and Dad, “Do you want to be a bastard like your sister?”
I hung up the phone, found my mother, and proceeded to ask her what a bastard was. Her face fell. She was stunned. I thought, crap, it’s bad word. Then I thought, so is crap. She asked me where I heard that word. “Grandma told them I was a bastard, on the phone.” There are few times in your life you see a parent get so mad that it scares you. This was the first time I had seen my mother get THAT mad. Even though I knew it wasn’t at me, it was awful. She calmly picked up the phone in the kitchen; said something to the effect of, “Excuse me, I hate to interrupt, but Starra just heard your mother call your daughter a bastard.” And hung up. I went to my room, and started cleaning. The preverbal shit had just hit the fan. I stayed in my room during that awful showdown between my father, mother, and grandmother. Calls back and forth to Grandma, yelling, crying. I was called out once to tell them how I overheard. They eventually took the argument outside, long enough so I could call my older brother – I still
32
?
Magazine
wanted to know what “bastard” meant. In all of his fourteen-year-old wisdom, he said a “bastard” was a baby that the biological parents did not want, and they give it to people who cannot have a baby. Huh? What? But I was “chosen?” And my adoptive parents had their biological kids. Why did my brother have this all so wrong? How could I be a bastard? In that moment, and at no fault of my brother, my world shifted. Obviously, I never saw my grandmother in the same light ever again. I was mad at my dad for defending his mother. My mother became the, “never-could-do-anythingwrong,” persona in my life. My grandmother stopped pretending she cared or even liked me after that. It was like she was relieved that I finally knew I was a bastard. It’s hard to imagine that in the 1970s there was such stigma against adoption, but there was. As I got older, I met other adopted kids. We found out we were adopted in different ways. Sometimes parents would wait too long to tell them they were adopted, with disastrous consequences. We also asked each other if we ever wanted to know who our “real parents” are. Like we were from another planet with zero history. I still get asked if I know who my real parents are. I still tell that story about my mom and the book when adoptive parents anxiously ask me how I found out I was adopted. I made sure my own kids knew that the word “bastard” is on the list of bad words. That word is thrown around so much these days. My hope is that all adopted kids know that, for the most part, we are simply, “wanted.” Silently thank that young girl, rape victim, single mother, or God that there was strength and a mindset to get you here. My intent with my adoption story isn’t to horrify
December 2015
Living adoptive/biological parents – it is just my story. I recommend the book, The Chosen Baby, by Valentina Wasson. It’s still the best book I have found to tell children early that they are adopted, and to get positive dialog started.
Editor’s Note: We stumbled across Starra, quite by accident, and we’re so glad we did. We know you’re out there – people who like to write – and we’ve been trying to get the word out that Question Mark Magazine would like to hear from you. As you can see, we’re as eclectic as they come. So if you’ve got a story that’s been floating around in your head, but never knew where you might be able to place it – send it to us! We’re not limited to the same old bland material as your local newspaper. We’re not slick, snooty, over-educated intellectuals with a better-than-you attitude. We’re, simply, writers, endeavoring to entertain readers. And while we have some excellent professional writers aboard, we’re always looking for that one talent out there who is yet to set
Starra Dotson resides in Oklahoma with her family. She recently became a stay-at-home mother to her two princesses, and an experimental cook. Her new pastimes are housekeeping, laundry, and animal wrangling. She enjoys spending time with family and friends, music, cooking, traveling, and reading thrillers. Her creativity is limited to crocheting. She would like to thank her husband for continuously encouraging her to write for 22 years. He is very happy that she finally did it.
?
Magazine
his/her thoughts free. Is that you? Of course, we can’t publish everything that’s submitted to us, but you’ll find that your chances of publication are better here than just about anywhere else. Try it out! Email your submissions, singlespaced, with no global formatting, to: cybermouth@hotmail.com And, thanks for reading!
December 2015
33
Back Issues * Click to Read
? Magazine December, 2015
Editorial
Camille Nesler
They also had a home study completed. The couple passed with flying colors and, in August, welcomed a 1 year old little girl into their home. Plans for adoption were soon underway and heartily approved by the child’s biological mother. But just three months later at a routine court hearing, Judge Johansen ordered that the little girl be removed immediately. He stated that “through my research, I have found that kids in homosexual homes don’t do as well as they do in heterosexual homes.” And when asked to show his research, he refused.
See You in Hell I’ve heard and even personally seen judges do some pretty stupid things over the years but I have to say, Judge Scott Johansen in Utah’s Seventh District definitely takes the prize for the dumbest ruling ever. In case you haven’t heard of him, this is the juvenile judge who recently ruled to remove a foster child from the home of a same sex couple who was in the process of adopting her. Utah couple, Beckie Peirce and April Hoagland, are legally married according to the Supreme Court. They have two biological children of their own and recently, the Utah Department of Child Services had licensed the couple as foster parents. They went through the same stringent set of guidelines that every other foster parent has to go through. They both had a criminal background check run on them.
Utah’s governor was not too happy about it either. “I’m a little puzzled,” said Gov. Gary Herbert. “He may not like the law but he should follow the law. We don’t want to have activism on the bench in any way, shape or form.” Here’s what I just don’t understand. If I and my husband, or any other heterosexual couple applied to become foster parents, there is a whole list of things we would have to complete and a ton of questions we would have to answer. I know this because I went through the same exact thing when I adopted an infant. I had a criminal background check run on me. I had my finances looked at. I had to turn in three different personal references. I had a home study done in which strangers looked at everything from the number of bedrooms I had to what was in my fridge. But one thing I was NOT asked was my sexual practices. That is NOT a question that’s on the list for prospective foster or adoptive parents. They don’t ask the heterosexual couple if they have a closet full of S&M bondage equipment. They don’t ask the heterosexual couple
? Magazine December, 2015
35
Editorial if they are swingers and banging the neighbors every weekend. They don’t ask the heterosexual couple if they watch hours of porn every night in the privacy of their bedrooms. SO….if that’s the case, someone tell me why they think they have to right to deny a homosexual couple based on what they do in the privacy of THEIR bedroom? The couple in Utah believes it is a decision based on religious beliefs. After all, Judge Johansen did receive his law degree from the Mormon Church’s Brigham Young University. And recently, the Mormon Church has confirmed that children of same-sex couples cannot be blessed or baptized until they are 18.
going “straight to hell” and that only heterosexual, married CHRISTIAN couples should be allowed to be foster parents. So I asked her, “Are YOU married?” To which she haughtily informed me she had been married for more than 20 years. So then I asked her, “Are you a Christian?” And she assured me she was, even bothering to inform me of the name of the church she attended. “Great!” I said, “So how many foster kids can I sign YOU up for?” At this point she became rather red in the face and began stuttering. “That’s exactly my point,” I told her, “Guess I’ll be seeing you in hell.”
Yeah, it definitely sounds like the good ole’ judge has an agenda. But he’s not the only one. A few years back the Family Values Council was spearheading a campaign to stop gay and lesbian couples from becoming foster parents. It also banned heterosexual couples who weren’t married, simply cohabitating. It was called the Arkansas Adoption and Foster Care Act and it was approved by Arkansas voters in November 2008. Luckily in 2011, the Arkansas Supreme Court struck it down. I say “luckily” because have you SEEN the number of children currently in the foster care system? In the United States alone, 397,122 children are currently living in foster care. Of those, approximately 101,666 are available for adoption, yet nearly 32% of these kids will wait in foster care at least 3 years before ever being adopted. And yet you have some sanctimonious nut-jobs out there who want to keep unmarried or homosexual couples from taking care of these kids? Give me a break! Not long after the Family Values Council first came out with their campaign, I wrote a column on the subject for a local newspaper. I’ll never forget the day a lady stopped me in the middle of the grocery aisle at the local Wal-Mart to inform me that I was 36
? Magazine December, 2015
?
? Magazine December, 2015
39