Crossing The Rubicon Family Tree

A Strange Game Origin Story (part 3)

ADDENDUM : I’m sorry this has taken so long to write and publish. I am encountering resistance. Why? Idk. I ask for your patience.

Thanks for reading.

FOR NEW READERS : To fully understand the continuing chronological story I’m writing please see parts 1 & 2.

PART 1 The Gumball Family Tree

PART 2 The Sugar Magnolia Family Tree

NOW, ON WITH THE STORY :

Macro to Micro.

The RUBICON is a small river in Italy. It’s not particularly wide or deep of swift or long. It’s a BOUNDARY.

When Caesar made the decision to cross it with his armies and uttered the now famous quote - “THE DIE IS CAST.”

THERE WAS NO TURNING BACK.

The Rubicon. Doesn’t seem like much yet once it’s crossed...

The Rubicon was the boundary between the land Caesar and his armies could legally wage war in and Rome (which is what all of current Italy was known as, Rome was not just a single city...).

Rome where Caesar and his armies were forbidden to wage war and had no legal jurisdiction. They were NOT to tread on ROME.

So, when Caesar and his armies crossed The Rubicon, that modest little river, a river so modest it was nearly a creek...

CAESAR DECLARED CIVIL WAR ON HIS OWN PEOPLE. And he went on to defeat his rival in Rome and become a DICTATOR until he was ASSASSINATED.

TODAY OUR GOVERNMENT HAS DECLARED CIVIL WAR ON US -

THEIR OWN PEOPLE WHO THEY SWORE TO US AND GOD ALMIGHTY TO PROTECT.

WITH THIS WEAPON -

“HOLY MODERNA, BATMAN !!!!!!!”

Reducing the US Military, the Proud and Brave and Valiant :

A Fighting Man.

To this :

DO IT FOR GRANDMA. TAKE YOUR POISON LIKE A GOOD BOY.

At least the megalomaniacal Caesar had the cojones to march in broad daylight to institute TOTALITARIANISM.

The USA sneaks in and shoots the old and feeble in nursing homes and the children at daycare.

GREATEST MILITARY IN THE WORLD! YEAH, BABY!

I am not going to set out to prove the “plandemic” and the injections (the poisonous point of it all...) were a Military Operation as this has been thoroughly proven elsewhere by this date. Look it up.

I am going to say our Rubicon has been crossed. In stealth.

We are engaged in the sneakiest most underhanded nefarious CIVIL WAR ever waged.

I am going to say the US Government and US Military have committed treason and broken the law of POSSE COMITATUS.

The Posse Comitatus Act of 1878, which removed the military from regular civil law enforcement, was enacted in response to the abuses resulting from the extensive use of the army in civil law enforcement during the Civil War and the Reconstruction.

One slimey reason among many slimey reasons this has been done to the people under cover of lies and manipulation. Like any con job.

I am going to say the Freemasons have their fat little hands all over it. YUCK.

With their BFFs the Zionists and their Girlfriends the Globalists.

AND now we traverse from the MACRO to the MICRO where we left off:

My (future) 15 year old Mother crossing her own Rubicon when she boarded a bus from Tulsa bound to the borderlands between Oklahoma and Arkansas to join her 33rd degree “Worshipful Master” Father.

Out of Aunt Ruth’s Eastern Star frying pan and into the FIRE.

The back of the bus cuz that’s where Injuns and Black folks rode. COLORED PEOPLE.

She crossed her Rubicon. The Rubicons we all cross in our lives. To cross or not to cross that is the only question.

Of course, in compassion for us all, I must point out so much of the time we do NOT know we are crossing a RUBICON until hindsight informs us with MERCILESS 20/20 vision. Or is it MERCIFUL vision to inform future crossings?

Either way, my 15 year old (future) Mother had no idea she was crossing hers sitting in the back of a Greyhound Bus.

Arriving at her Father’s big farmhouse which he called a ranch house.

Deep in the HEART of the web of the Big Black Irish Freemason Spider.

Welcome home.

All went well in the beginning as so many beginnings begin.

With PROMISE.

My (future) Mother loved her young half-siblings, Sadie Ruth, 3, a girl-child, and Welch, 1 year, a boy-child. She loved them as only a blossoming covert narcissist can love. As if they were literally a part of her. Like her little finger.

The ranch house was very large and there seemed plenty of everything for everyone.

AND no Punishing Nuns or Experimenting Doctors and no Aunt Ruth beatings and no Uncle Cliff molestings to endure any longer. My (future) Mother felt free at last.

She developed a helpmate, if not close, relationship with her new step-mother. A no-nonsense rail thin sundried bank teller of a woman who did indeed need help with the kiddies as she dutifully went to work at a little bank every day of every weekday.

A little bank that knew my Grandfather the Freemason Spider quite well. Where he met his thin bank teller bride.

It all went swimmingly for a while. Until one morning.

Spiders From Mars.

It was a typical day. Suddenly my (future) Mother heard screaming and yelling and BOOMING from another room. She rushed to the sound and there she found my Freemason Grandfather beating the life out of his 3 year old daughter, Sadie Ruth.

Sadie Ruth was kicked and punched and picked up and thrown against the wall like a ragdoll. She had ceased screaming but the beating did not.

My (future) Mother did not know if she herself was screaming. She simply could not fathom what she was witnessing. To her, Sadie Ruth’s lifeless body looked like a Sadie Ruth doll in the midst of utter destruction.

Suffer The Little Children.

Her Father, realizing Sadie Ruth had lost consciousness at some point during his attack, fished her out from under the sofa.

My Grandfather’s House was filled with hideous furniture. Where it came from and why it was there I never knew. We were never allowed to sit on it.

Her Father left Sadie Ruth’s lifeless body on the floor and rushed to the next room making a frantic phone call.

My (future) Mother just stared. Frozen for a time she knew not how long.

The next thing she knew, a Doctor arrived with several other men and they whisked Saide Ruth’s tiny body away and upstairs and...

THAT WAS THAT.

My Grandfather was never charged or investigated for any crime.

Sadie Ruth remained upstairs in a coma for over three months.

No one in the household spoke of it though my (future) Mother knew no one knew if Sadie Ruth would live or die. She lived.

THANK GOD.

Years later my Grandfather nearly beat his son, Welch, to death when he was twelve years old with a log in a corral because my Grandfather did not appreciate Welch being cautious around the livestock. Again, he was never taken to a hospital.

Sometimes I have no words...

I remember the long diagonal scar that ran across Welch’s head where no hair would grow.

Sadie Ruth grew up and left her “home” asap and cut off all communication with her parents, changed her name and became a child psychologist specializing in profoundly abused children.

Or so I heard. I’ve never been able to find her.

I have always wished her Godspeed.

My (future) Mother became a terrified mouse skittering around from room to room in the midst of a den of snakes always and forever tip toeing on eggshells.

No reason for her Father’s attack of his little daughter was ever discussed or revealed. I have some speculations of my own.

Then my (future) Mother started classes at her NEW SCHOOL.

It was called BEAVER SCHOOL. A One Room Schoolhouse.

THERE SHE MET MY (future) FATHER.

Their Families Knew Each Other Very well.

It was a match made, not in Heaven, but somewhere far darker...

IT WAS GENERATIONAL BREEDING. INTERFAMILIAL EUGENICS.

PART 4 SOON TO COME...

END OF PART 3

Part 1 The Gumball Family Tree

Part 2 The Sugar Magnolia Family Tree

Part 4 The Hybrid Family Tree

POSTSCRIPT : Strange things have been happening all around me. People parking outside my house and staring. One of my cats was hit at a high speed in my driveway and killed. Which means someone had to veer into the drive to hit the cat. I can see the tire marks. But, don’t worry about me. Pray for me, yes, as I pray for you. As Et's Cinema PsychoMasonica describes, they don’t keep it up forever and I’ve been through it before. For whatever reason they don’t touch me. Only my poor cat. Who did not deserve what he got. I cry for him daily. RIP, Blue.

God has got this.

Pirate Eyes.