It's
late afternoon on a very short winter day in Alaska. The last shreds
of sunset touch the western windows. The kids are barely home from
school. The animals seem content to curl up and stay inside, being more
companionable than they are at other seasons.
I've
taken a long ramble through arcane history today and I am tired if not
cross-eyed from staring at the faded, fancy handwriting of a diplomatic
scribe writing in eighteenth-century French. Translating it is tedious
but do-able, and I have to pause and rest a moment.
What
if Lincoln had stood up in any public or quasi-public venue and said,
"My cabinet members are planning to kill me and Generals Grant and
Sherman are going along with it."
Just that much. That succinct. It would have probably saved his life. And our country.
If he really wanted to overturn the tables, he might have added:
"They are all working for the Queen. They are not acting as Americans."
Two
sentences spoken at the right time in any public venue would have ended
the Great Fraud as it got started, and caused a mucking out of
Washington, DC, that would have lasted for many decades and convinced
our British Territorial Subcontractors to tend their knitting and drink
their tea.
But, aside from cryptic remarks made to his wife and eldest Son and his Chief of Staff, Lincoln didn't speak. Why not?
The
most obvious answer is threats to his family. If you go back and read
the history, all of Lincoln's younger sons died of childhood diseases
that were fairly common at the time -- but there is an unsettling lack
of agreement in the newspaper reports.
Some
reports say it was Scarlet Fever, another says Meningitis, a third says
Whooping Cough and a fourth says Consumption -- that is, Tuberculosis.
Which
is it? Surely, doctors skilled enough to attend to the President and
the President's family, could identify common diseases of the day
....unless the symptoms were atypical. And they would be atypical, if
the younger Lincolns were being poisoned.
Trying to save his dwindling family could cause a man to stay silent.
The
characteristic sounds of the old hot water radiators kicking on makes
me stop to consider: we are still heating buildings with hot water, no
different than the Romans, two thousand years ago, but my roving mind--
like a hound on a scent-- wanders on.
What if Lincoln didn't have enough evidence, and a nagging sense of fairness or fear of political fall out kept him quiet?
It would be extremely awkward and look ungrateful to accuse General Grant, when Grant had just handed Lincoln the victory.
Lincoln
would have had to be sure and have hard evidence against Grant;
otherwise, he'd create more chaos and risk the displeasure of the
military. Not a good thing, a week after Lee's Surrender.
Later,
Mary Todd Lincoln would accuse both Grant and William Henry Seward, but
she was a "high strung woman" and "out of her mind with grief". They
gave her massive doses of Laudanum - an addictive opium tincture, as a
sedative.
Or
maybe Mary Todd Lincoln was there, saw who pulled the trigger, and
noted how conveniently Grant had excused himself and his wife from going
with the Lincolns to Ford's Theater that night.
Maybe Mary Todd Lincoln put two and two together and arrived at four.
There
are many odd, inexplicable similarities between the Lincoln
Assassination and the Kennedy Assassination a hundred years later.
Instead of cryptic comments to family and a trusted aide, JFK stood up
in public and spoke of a ruthless hidden adversary that he promised to
expose --- but like Lincoln, names were never named.
Why not?
Like Lincoln, Kennedy had a family he loved, a wife and two little kids. Perhaps he stopped short out of concern for them.
For whatever reason, he stayed silent. He never named names.
Let
this be a lesson learned. If you are going to take out bad people or
bad agencies, don't talk about doing it. Just do it, and don't miss
your aim.
Granna
------------------
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International Public Notice: Evidence and Insight
By Anna Von Reitz
Many
people are now waking up and coming to the same conclusions from many
different directions -- a natural process when you reach a certain
tipping point in finding the solution to a puzzle, and suddenly,
everyone can see the overall pattern and starts adding pieces.
Those
who produced the video linked below latched onto one of the easier
proofs-by-observation: the difference in basic definitions between
Bouvier's Dictionary (land) and Black's Dictionary (sea).
They
seem to have interpreted this disparity in terms of a plot (inferred to
be a plot by the Bar Associations) to change dictionaries instead of a
change in jurisdiction that compelled the use of different forms of law
and the use of different dictionaries, and different definitions, but
they aren't far wrong.
There was a change in definitions, in dictionaries, and forms of law.
This
happened when a British Territorial "President" -- Abraham Lincoln --
of a British Crown Corporation calling itself "the United of America"
(Incorporated) substituted itself for the lawful Government owed to this
country.
Lincoln
acted in Breach of Trust and under color of law to do this and it
resulted in: (1) a British Territorial Subcontractor, literally a
Service Vendor, commandeering our government apparatus; (2) unlawful
conversion of the American Military into a private Mercenary Force and
their illegal occupation of this country under pretense of war; (3)
change
of the jurisdiction this "government" was operating in, and therefore,
change of the dictionaries, definitions and forms of law.
The
Perpetrators acted under conditions of strict secrecy and got away with
it for 160 years before the Americans nailed it down.
The
British Territorial Corporation operating under a very similar name was
deliberately confused with and substituted for The United States of
America -- our unincorporated Federation of States.
To
make the impersonation more flawless, certain Scottish Industrialists
soon created "The United States of America" --- Incorporated, so that on
paper, their corporation literally appeared to be our Federation of
States.
These
two commercial corporations, "the United States of
America"--Incorporated, which was Lincoln's original corporation, and
the Scottish version, "The United States of America" --Incorporated,
conspired together, with Lincoln's original corporation controlling the
delegated Powers we granted, and the Scottish Impersonator substituting
itself and further purloining the identity and powers and assets of our
unincorporated American Federation of States.
There
have been many bankruptcies and reorganizations and false claims in
commerce and all sorts of fraud, deceit, and violence since then, but
this initial successful gambit provided the template for additional
rounds of the same frauds and impersonations to be repeated with
slightly different variations.
True
to form, these paired commercial corporations and their managers see
living people as commodities to be bought, sold, traded, controlled,
manipulated, and owned. They privately refer to us as "livestock" and
via purloined citizenship registrations of babies, they have contrived a
means to "legalize" treating us as livestock.
Via
this same citizenship registration process, they have obtained
unconscionable contracts illegally and unlawfully converting Americans
into British Territorial Subjects and subjecting Americans to their
Territorial Law, which is limited to Maritime, Admiralty, and internal
corporate Administrative law.
This
malicious constructive fraud also allowed the Perpetrators to evade
their contractual obligations owed under The Constitution of the United
States of America. Only Americans are owed the Constitutional
Guarantees; British Subjects are not.
This
ruse also allowed the Perpetrators to inflict private gift, estate, and
excise taxes on Americans. This, coupled with conversion of the court
system and overall jurisdiction of "government" operations already
noted, further allowed them to unlawfully confiscate American assets and
unjustly enrich themselves under color of law.
In
a nutshell, the nineteenth century Robber Barons and Captains of
Industry figured out a way by which they could commandeer the powers of
government without appearing to do so, and they could then use those
powers of government to gain monopoly interests, rig commodity markets,
carry on wars for profit, access national credit accounts for their
private piggy banks, print fiat money using other people's assets as
collateral, issue labor bonds against the value of other people's labor,
use their private corporate tribunals to selectively punish their
competitors, use the patent office to restrict competition, and so on.
So
that's what they did and that's what they gained. Except that most of
them have been dead for over a 100 years, they all deserved to be
hanged. Perhaps we can hang them in effigy. Establish a glorious
public latrine as the new Lincoln Memorial.
To
be fair, there is evidence that Lincoln balked and tried to block the
Great Fraud in the few days between Lee's Surrender and his own death;
just like JFK, Lincoln called them out but failed to name names.
So that is what they have done, and it is all 100% criminal.
No issues of race, politics or religion. Just crime.
Unfortunately,
America is not alone in being abused by this same confidence racket;
the Perpetrators succeeded and so, were encouraged to apply the same
template to country after country, using any means fair or foul.
Today's
video shows you another piece of the puzzle and easy evidence in
support of what we have been telling everyone since 1999.
Issued by:
Anna Maria Riezinger -- Fiduciary
The United States of America
In care of: Box 520994
Big Lake, Alaska 99652
December 4th 2025
------------------
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If You Want to Look for Camelot
By Anna Von Reitz
Look
for a small lake with a small island nestled in a mixed pine and
hardwood forest --- a place that is very private with a small river and
small waterfall feeding into the lake; it is described as being in the
Auvergne Forest and having a perfect climate -- which implies that it is
in-between the humid western Auvergne and the harsh dry east -- but
somewhere where there is a perfect microclimate in this mostly wild and
wasteland place.
That's
the thing. Nobody would ever look for Camelot in the Auvergne. Even
the tourist photos are discouraging. Dead volcanoes. Average looking
countryside. Healthy looking cows. Nothing magical here.
This
is why Camelot was called a "charmed place", because everything around
it was not beautiful -- so that this little bit of land and lake struck
people as being magical and out of place.
"A short distance away" you will find the ancient brooding citadel of Camelot, either in ruins or covered up by a modern city.
I
have never sought the Citadel of Camelot. It is described as a
"mountain" facing west, and somehow assuming a man's "stern visage
gazing westward", enclosed on either side by massive stone walls made of
blocks of stone the size of boxcars (Megalithic stone work) that "rise
in tiers like steps". The treads of these "steps" are covered with
dense forest and access to the citadel itself was by narrow tracks
running along the top of these forested "stair treads" with each step
providing access to a different level of the citadel built into the side
of the mountain.
Directly
in front of this forbidding place is a natural sheer cliff, then
another strip of forest, and beyond that to the west, the Plain of
Camelot where Mordred's armies camped.
Whatever
joy or beauty or strength that was in this citadel has long departed;
it is, by now, a place where even birds don't like to stay and it has a
peculiar mournful emptiness as if one of Morgan's spells of doom still
lingers over it. The light is odd, too, a very pale golden light like
one sees occasionally in autumn, on days of very high altitude
overcast. The sun bleeds through as if it is faded or coming through a
filter.
"It
is empty. Dry and empty. Amid tussocks of dry grass and rocks, our
heroes bled." That's the report of one of those who went looking for it
in the 1700's.
There
are places in Germany and France where simply seeing photographs of
them makes me sick to my stomach, much less being there in the flesh.
La Cathedrale Notre-Dame-de-l'Assomption de Clermont, also in the Auvergne, with its black spires ---is one of those places.
The
hillocky pox-marked landscape of Verdun and the ghastly phallic-shaped
Douaumont Ossuary still send chills and radiating fire up my spine and
through my hands; a displaced sickness like mold creeping through the
grass afflicts the place. A queer metallic smell still lingers, though
not everyone can smell it, and despite the hundred years and more, the
landscape of Verdun and the eight other ruined villages surrounding it,
have barely begun a biological recovery.
I
asked the Diplomat representing the Government of France why they have
allowed this and done nothing but build benches and a Ossuary, turning
it into a park -- of sorts.
Their
answer --- "To remember." -- sounded lame, and somehow insincere, as if
remembering in the sense of honoring the dead had nothing to do with
it.
"To remember what?" I pressed. "The senseless death and genocide of a whole generation of men?"
The
French Attache looked startled, surprised that anyone would not tamely
back down and accept the politically correct answers. He looked oddly
guilty instead. He glanced away.
"This was the second salvo of your depopulation plan," I spat.
"Second?" He finally responded mildly.
"The
Crimea," I responded, "and when the truth about that was about to come
out, they had to shoot Archduke Ferdinand, because he was an honorable
man."
The
mixture of shocked realization, the alchemy of the place, the disgust
and repugnance and most of all, the frustration, boiled in my gut like a
cauldron.
All
those young men were slaughtered with less mercy than cattle, and at
night the thieves stole over the battlefield fringes like shadows,
pulling the gold fillings from their teeth, stealing pocket watches.
"The
years have passed," I finally pronounced with a voice as if I were
passing a sentence on criminals. "It's time for the Ossuary to be
emptied like any charnel house, the bones returned to the Earth, and
peace restored. The money you have wasted on this ghastly thing...." I
stood looking at the Ossuary, a giant glittering penis. "....can't be
saved or turned to any other purpose. You must tear it down, burn the
pieces, salt the ashes, and bury what remains in the sea."
The well-trained functionary's eyebrows shot up to the middle of his forehead, "Madam....." he gasped.
"Nonetheless,"
I said, staring back at him, "what I say is true. If you leave these
bones unhealed and leave the Earth to mourn, what you have done to them,
will be done to you. Any fools-- much less a government, should know
that much."
"Then,"
I continued, "you must heal this place. You must invoke the True God
to heal it, not your sanctimonious master. Remove the dead ordinance,
you cheap bastards."
Tears began pouring down my face.
"You
have the equipment to do that now," I said, blinking, not wanting to
touch my blazing hands to my face. "Make plans, or we will all be coming
for you."
"We?"
His voice squeaked out like a frightened little mouse, wondering
furtively what I meant, sensing the unseen ghosts in the air around and
through and in between us.
"Yes, we," I intoned and nodded. "You feel the cold, don't you?"
No
need to ask. His teeth were chattering on this hot humid day in
summer. I could smell the reek of the battlefield, still pungent. I
leaned back away from him, my fists.
I
took a deep slow breath and fought to overcome the smell of faded
cordite, lead fuses, tainted bandages, the slime of wounds on gauze,
trampled grass, mud, and pools of stagnant water.
"You
didn't build this "monument" for them," I said. "Not to remember
them. You built it as a monument to Death, like the Crucifix."
The
French Diplomatic Corps bureaucrat pissed himself right there and then,
the dark stain appearing suddenly and spreading and dripping from the
hem of his pants. His eyes were very wide and staring, pop-eyed, as if I
were choking him.
"Monsieur,"
I said wearily, "we see what you do in secret. We see how you are. We
see how you mock Jesus while pretending to worship him. You do all
that he instructed you not to do. He told you not to worship him, but
that is your teaching. He told you to call no man "Father" --- and what
do you do?"
The
poor fellow was very softly gasping and staring straight forward at
something beyond my shoulder. The cold was almost unbearable, but the
fire rippling up my spine was keeping me warm enough. I paused. I
tilted my head sideways.
"You
leave Jesus on the cross, dead, because you want to celebrate your big
moment of victory. You want to celebrate his death."
"Mon
dieu!" The poor fellow managed and fell sprawled out, and lay panting
like a dog in front of me. I poked at his bare ankle between his pant
leg and the top of his rumpled sock, not with force, to encourage him to
at least sit up.
"You call on the True God when you need him," I observed mildly.
"And are surprised when he still answers, after all the blasphemy and cruelty and evil that you've done."
He curled up in a fetal position in response, still shivering in the cold, but the worst had passed.
"You
---- " I said very softly, "Your government must heal this place and
give those men a peaceful grave." It wasn't an order. It wasn't a
request. It was a statement of fact.
I
turned and walked away, back toward the parking lot, leaving him to
find his feet and limp and bump awkwardly after me. I didn't turn and
look at him until we got back to the car.
"I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!" He was blubbering first in English, then in French, breathlessly, frantically.
I nodded, and said, "You should be."
He
was one of those men who went to school, got good grades, had a
homosexual experience when he was nineteen, got pulled into evil things
that were way above his head, and convinced himself -- somehow -- that
there would never be a reckoning. He grew smug, convinced of his
intellectual superiority, convinced that he was untouchable and secure.
Even right.
He
never imagined anything like this happening. Tears were running down
both sides of his face, but my tears had dried and the cool breeze that
rises in the late afternoon washed over me.
I looked back at the Ossuary. It glowed dully in the changing light, still hideous, only now better lit.
"I am so sorry," he said, one last time, with his voice stepping down to something like normal.
"Don't give your apologies to me," I said. "Tell them, the men who died here. The men who never saw home again."
He
looked out over the quiet scene; there were only a couple distant
figures inching forward across the landscape, an elderly couple,
half-leaning on each other. Perhaps they had family members buried
here, and came out once a year, as some people do, to view the ruin and
commune with the ghosts.
I
was torn between letting him drive in his agitated condition, or take
the risk myself. I had a momentary twinge of sympathy for him as he
stared around like he'd just woke up in an alien world.
Nothing would ever be the same for him.
It
was such a routine safe assignment. Take this no-longer-young American
woman out to Verdun. Let her pay her respects-- yuck-yuck. Boring.
Babysit the American tourist, saying all the usual things. Hot,
humid....but now, he realized something more.
It was, it was....depressing. Heart-breaking. A new rain of tears came and his handsome face twisted.
Yes, he could feel again. He took a ragged breath, looking bewildered. He could feel again. He could sense his own life pulsing through his veins. He could hear. He could see.
And
yes, the Ossuary was hideously ugly, but worse than that, it had an
evil meaning. It wasn't created to remember the dead. It was created to
mock them, mock their lives, mock their sacrifice.
It stood there erect in the middle of that awful landscape, saying, here's the Big One, Pilgrims. That, and nothing more.
How had France, once a noble nation, come to this?
Monsieur
G. just stood there helplessly and wept. I let him. He turned away,
leaning back against the other side of the car. He was trembling, but
not with the cold of the Abyss.
He
was trembling because his heart was broken; he suddenly had sympathy
for all those young men, with all that they suffered, with all their
lives unlived.
He
could suddenly sense all the aged parents left lonely, the girlfriends
and wives bereft, the children without fathers. The immensity of this
bore down on him and crushed him, and I let it, because he needed to be
crushed.
He
finally turned back toward me. The sun was going down. I could hear
the quiet burble of a Mourning Dove in the trees, and otherwise, for a
moment, everything was perfectly silent. I said nothing. He said
nothing.
The
ghosts crowded around us again. So many had suffered such awful deaths,
one second alive, the next, blown apart. It left them with no
reference points, not even a moment to realize they were dead.
I silently opened my arms to the empty air and mentally hugged each one of them.
My
companion opened the car door and slid into the driver's seat of the
standard-issue Peugeot. All his smugness was gone. He stared straight
ahead over the steering wheel as I got in the car. Without a word, he
turned the ignition and we slowly worked our way to the main road. We
didn't speak.
When
we got to my hotel, the doorman rushed forward with a big smile to
greet me and open the car door. I turned back just for an instant to
grab my purse and found Monsieur G. staring at me.
He
looked absolutely desperate. There was something he wanted to say, but
the words weren't coming out. What do you say, after such an
afternoon?
I felt my heart melt.
The
impossibility of putting what he felt into words was self-evident to
me. Some things are just too deep, too complex, and being given your
life back is one of those things.
He
went out to Verdun on a routine Veterans' Committee assignment, so
smug, so selfish, so closed-off. He didn't even realize it, but he
could no longer feel. He had been more dead than the soldiers at
Verdun.
And
now, he was alive again -- confused, drained, exhausted -- but alive
for the first time in years. The world was his again, full of new
possibilities.
"We'll
probably never see each other again," I told him. "Not in this world --
but, you will go on and do great things. You will make the
recommendations to rehabilitate Verdun. It will fall to you to do that.
And you won't be afraid anymore, not of anything, not of anyone."
I turned away and closed the car door, knowing that it would be exactly as I said it would.
My
advice? Don't go looking for Camelot. Be Camelot. Be that charmed
country. Be that blessed space in the midst of ugliness.
Open
your heart, and you'll open your eyes and ears, and the true mystery
of life will come pouring back into you, surprising, alarming,
painful....all
those things, and more. Much more. Thrilling, humbling, rewarding,
healing.... and still more. Love will come and peace will stay. You
won't live in fear anymore. And the world will no longer be grey. Your
heart will no longer be deadened.
Granna
------------------
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International Public Notice: Federation Directive to Mr. Trump
By Anna Von Reitz
(1)
Leave Venezuela alone and leave Venezuelan oil alone. Concentrate on
development of the Eastern Rockies Oil Basin. If other countries don't
want to sell us their natural resources, that's fine. We will develop
our own -- cleanly and safely. Theodore Roosevelt's Natural Resource
Policy no longer applies in 2025.
(2)
Close and maintain reasonable, customary, and prudent security of The
United States borders and immigration. Proceed with deportation and
evaluation efforts. Let this unpleasant job be accomplished without
drama and with respect for individual people and families. Allow them to
contact family members and if they came with wives and children,
arrange group deportation of their children, spouses, and personal
belongings so that they can leave as they came-- as families. Give them
safe transport back to their country of origin and whatever reasonable
support we can offer toward their resettlement. This is not about
cruelty or politics. This is about maintaining our own Public Law and
integrity. Anyone who can demonstrate that they have realistic fear of
political and/or religious persecution such that they genuinely need
asylum should be set aside for special naturalization assistance. There
is funding set aside for these needful purposes.
(3)
Cut off smuggling and human trafficking from all sources, including
Eastern Canadian conduits. Increase air and water reconnaissance over
the Great Lakes. Increase security and inspection on traffic through
the St. Lawrence Seaway, and thru-traffic on all five lakes. Pursue
integration talks with the Far Western Canadian Provinces wishing to
become Territorial Administrative States and make sure that they
understand that this is merely a step on the way to becoming a complete
State of the Union.
(4)
Plan for integration of the U.S. Marshals Service into the Continental
Marshals Program which is replacing the old defunded Federal Marshals
Program to form a competent shield against international crimes on both
land and sea.
(5)
Redirect the FBI to focus on its original mission of detecting and
preventing interstate crimes and its original jurisdictional mission
limited to the Continental United States, and United States Territories
and Possessions.
(6)
Similarly redirect the CIA to focus on its original mission and service
area outside the Continental United States; refocus on intelligence
gathering, detection, and assessment of offshore threats.
(7)
Redefine the National Security Council so that it is an American
National Security Council; it's fine to consult with experts from a
hundred different other countries, but those experts should not be
sitting as members of our National Security Council and making or unduly
influencing decisions about American National Security.
(8)
Find a new American Paymaster for the U.S. Military; it is not
appropriate for SERCO, a British Corporation, to be acting as Paymaster
while these men and women are in service to this country; secure the
budget for the military functions and administer the disbursements
accordingly.
(9)
Prepare for reintegration and normalization of the U.S. Military as
part of the American Armed Forces. Everyone will be serving in a public,
non-bonded capacity, under fully disclosed service agreements, as
honorable volunteers. All service members will receive a 25% pay raise
above their current rate as soon as possible, including military
pensioners. Full dental care will be added to military insurance
coverage for all active duty, reserves, pensioners and their dependents.
No member of the military services or any dependent of theirs will ever
be denied any medical or dental service on the basis that they refused
services, for example, denied treatment for kidney disease because they
refused to be used as a lab rat and vaccinated with experimental goop.
Active duty members will be fully provided with complete million dollar
personal life and permanent disability insurance packages made payable
to their spouse, if married, or designated beneficiary/caretaker; this
is to be in addition to all and any current benefits. Veterans
separated from the service and unemployed through no fault of their own
will be eligible for Service-Related Unemployment Payments and assisted
to find jobs. Homeless veterans will be given generous housing vouchers
and if substance addiction or mental illness is involved in their
homelessness they will be eligible for full-boat residential care, just
like the rich people receive when they break down and run amok. There is
plenty of money set aside for this. No matter what their duty station,
no American serving in the American Armed Forces will ever be denied the
benefit of the Constitutional Guarantees. All people born within the
borders of a State of the Union or fully naturalized to a State of the
Union will be recognized as American State Nationals, regardless of any
registrations purloined from their Mothers when they were babies. All
members entering the American Armed Forces will be fully informed about
the meaning of citizenship, foreign citizenship obligations, and fully
and without deceit informed regarding the choice to accept or decline
foreign Federal Citizenship and/or retain their American State National
status. Foreign citizenship cannot be presumed upon or against any
American, anywhere, at any time.
(10)
The foreign Judicial Districts which have been allowed to exist and
proliferate throughout The United States are to be immediately and
permanently shut down. The District Courts operated under these
Judicial Districts and the various State of State franchise District
Courts/COURTS that have been used to practice personage and barratry
against average Americans who are not knowingly, naturally, or
voluntarily acting as Federal Dual Citizens are to be closed to public
business and directed to exonerate all cases involving Defendants or
DEFENDANTS appearing to be the names of individual Americans, return all
property seized, issue restitution of not less than $500 a day and not
more than $1000 a day per day of incarceration inflicted on these same
Americans, issue notification of the awards, and provide enforcement
support to return the properties illegally confiscated and otherwise
make amends appropriate in each case. These judges and attorneys need
to be publicly disgraced for their disservice, deceit, and their own
criminality in pursuit of undisclosed unjust enrichment, conflict of
interest, and lack of delegated authority. It will now be their job to
repair -- to the extent possible -- the damage they have done to other
lives, to American families, and American property while acting in
breach of trust and under color of law.
There
is plenty of money and no reason to delay any of these actions. The
sooner you get moving toward these reasonable objectives, the better.
If you have any questions, we are the long-lost People everyone is
always talking about ---and our Federation of States is your ultimate
employer and the Delegator of Enumerated Powers.
You
and your Secretary of the Treasury, Scott Bessent, seem very confused
most of the time and need to get in touch with us, otherwise you are
still required to perform the above directives and are left scrabbling
around trying to extract the funding from phony public trusts and phony
Federal Income Tax claims and all sorts of other puerile nonsense that
victimizes your Employers, the very people you have been hired to
protect and serve in good faith.
Unless victimizing your Employers and being held liable for it is what you all really want to do, send me an email at: avannavon@gmail.com with the Subject Line: Granna.
Issued by:
Anna Maria Riezinger -- Fiduciary
The United States of America
In care of: Box 520994
Big Lake, Alaska 99652
December 3rd 2025
------------------
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