Tag Archives: terror

I AM Liberty Show: Wrist Slap Bombers, Cultural Casualty and Honoring the Fallen

Did you hear the one about the car of terrorists? Just a few days after the UK bombing. There was an incident in Minneapolis. You have to hear this to believe it.Â

You thought white privilege and cultural appropriation were just a couple of toys that the progressive left were playing with on social media? Lets talk about a very real casualty of this dangerous thinking. A dream was shattered on the backs of this silly rhetoric.

Finally, lets honor those who have fallen. I have a special piece to read to you.Â

Tom Locke: Surviving Today XL

Every Thursday here at http://www.iamliberty.wordpress.com stay tuned for another exciting chapter in Tom Locke’s story. Its not dystopian but, have mercy, its one man’s survival.

  •  God or Guide?

The timber grew up crooked. It seemed that no tree rose from the ground in a straight line. Instead they all clamoured towards the sunlight with limbs that spread like nerves or veins. Nothing in nature is straight or consistent. In our world we think beauty is about looking like so and so. Cutting our hair like whats his name. Nature tells us different.

Najair sat back against a large poplar tree. Small chips of rock hit his face as return fire from the Muslim radicals hit boulders and trees between them. He looked over the soldier who appeared from under the burqa in the cabin. He was short and stout an underdog with an incredible aim. He would smite two armed men for every duck and cover.

Najair was armed and returning fire as well but as he watched this brave soldier he thought of a Qur’anic verse.

Sura 26:227 “Except those who believe, work righteousness, engage much in the remembrance of God, and defend themselves only after they are unjustly attacked. And soon will the unjust assailants know what vicissitudes their affairs will take!

Over the last few days Najair had been so close to his god. With bullets whizzing by his head he may have never been closer to god than at this moment.

The gunfire simmered as the opposition began to reload. Najair popped up from behind the large bolder and squeezed off several rounds. He felled to two men before return fire. The hail chip up the rock again and the GUIDE echoed through his head.


noun: guide · plural noun: guides
  1. a person who advises or shows the way to others:

God, guide, god, guide, god, guide, god, guide, god, guide, god, guide, god, guide, god, guide, god, guide, god, guide, god, guide, god, guide. Over and over the words spiraled around in his mind. He was a devout Muslim within reason. The later portion of his beliefs was what the men he was killing lacked. Reason.

As he took cover he thought, ‘There was a time when we needed God to explain the world to us. A time before science and reason and logic. We needed Allah to explain the world because we were unable to. Does this mean with science there is no need for God?

If Ignorance is bliss than we need God now more than ever. For we understand more than ever. God becomes the guide. He will wade us through the information and those that desire to do evil with such information. The information at our fingertips has the capacity to do one thousand times the damage of any iron clad cavalery of the past. It is with this power we need a guide more than ever, a God.

Without God to guide us we look to holy books to explain todays world. Simply a feat that is impossible. Instead we set our compass by these solid teachings of morality and experience. If we seek to live by any Gods word exclusively than we become the monsters before me.’

He popped up from behind the stone and offed three more of the radicals.

Tom Locke: Surviving Today XXVII

Every Thursday here at http://www.iamliberty.wordpress.com stay tuned for another exciting chapter in Tom Locke’s story. Its not dystopian but, have mercy, its one man’s survival

  • The first deception

Three days ago Tom Locke’s world was revolving around one thing. At this point there were few things that seemed as trivial. Commodities. Sales. Tom Locke made his living selling precious metals. Not paper gold or silver. Tom worked for himself buying and selling precious metals. These days the prices have been a bit volatile and Tom was flying home from one of the biggest sales of his career. The days that followed should have been filled with celebration.

Looking down the barrel of this loaded gun situation magnified how trivial Tom’s profession was. Rocks. He sold rocks that were dug out of the ground and pressed into bars and coins. These were rocks that represented some sort of strange value based on their rarity. Not until confronted with something as diabolical as head cutting hordes flooding American towns in the dead of night do these feelings take on meaning. In a matter of hours America would be under attack by the largest opposing force ever to take up arms on within the borders of the nation.

Tom in his red and white checkered scarf looked up the hill at the first group of men he would have to deceive. He couldn’t speak the language, he knew little of the culture but he was a salesman and now this was Tom’s most important sale to date.

They both had pistols brandished which was in their favor. The five men up the hill were all well armed. At this moment, however, the playing field was level due to the art of deception.

Up the hill the two men traveled.  Either into the razor sharp teeth of this monster or to glory. Death was something both men had come to terms with earlier in the night.

“I will lead,” Najair put his head down and whispered to Tom, “When the time is right we will kill all five of them.”

The words shattered Tom’s concentration.

“We want to make up this mountain right Najair?”

“Trust me Tom these men will turn their backs to us and we will walk down this mountain 10 yards and shoot them all in the back. This is war. We must terrorize them in the way they are preparing to terrorize us.”

As though he had a premonition mid step Najair paused and turned his head to look over his shoulder. Then he raised his hand and motioned for the five men to come down the hill. He squatted quickly and turned towards the opening of the woods from which they both came. Tom followed his lead and did the same as the five killers walked down the mountain behind them.


Tom Locke: Surviving Today XVIII

Every Thursday here at http://www.iamliberty.wordpress.com stay tuned for another exciting chapter in Tom Locke’s story. Its not dystopian but, have mercy, its one man’s survival.

  •  A Chariot to salvation or slaughter

Tom was always weary of mountain towns. It was just a strange thing. There were always strange flags flying and side road stands selling some concoction. This town seemed no different. Even in the dark he could see the rebel flags dancing in the wind and a large plywood sign in someone’s yard that read QUILTS. The houses were still popping up infrequently as they pressed further into town.

The night and forest took over again for about 2 miles. Tom sat uncomfortably close to two people he barely knew in the pickup. His adrenal glands seemed to be coming to the end of what was a marathon of terror. The shakes were beginning to leave him and in their place hunger and pain began to seep in. There was no facet of this reality that was pleasurable for him. He could talk but was just too tired.

Deciduous trees and patches of pines rushed by the truck on either side as they drove down the mountain. Beyond the tree trunks were barely visible patches of brush and beyond that was the darkness of the forest at night. Beyond that the wolves were searching the forest. Wolves with a very particular prey were just beyond this break in the mountain woods. The question was would Tom and Najair escape their crushing jaws and warn America of the onslaught that was coming.

Their driver had yet to give them their name and neither man was in a position to pry. They were just lucky to be moving away from their televised demise at such a hurried pace.

Light ahead broke the forest open again and a small town came into view. It was headed off by a small home with three wooden crosses hammered in to the yard. ‘weird mountain town stuff,’ Tom thought to himself. He understood faith but not really why it had to be hammered into someone’s front yard.

There was a great church at the end of the road and beyond that was the brilliant colored sign of a gas station. Tom looked over at the gas gauge on her dash and saw that it was full. This was especially alarming as they passed the church and turned right into the gas station.

“Looks like you are full. Don’t you have a police station around here? This is kind of a pressing matter,” Tom spoke as he looked over at their driver.

“Hey, Tom, how about you let me deal with this, in my town, in the middle of the night, the way I think it should be dealt with.”

He trusted her for some reason.

She popped the door and hopped her little frame down and out of the truck. Before she got to the gas station entrance a man came out. He was wearing a skull cap and with a buttoned down maroon shirt. He wore black slacks and hugged her when they reached one another. The long untrimmed beard and shaved upper lip assured Tom that this man was a Muslim. That was a little nerve racking after what had just transpired. He didn’t start to panic though. Until she pointed at the truck and he began to walk their way.