Updated 3/6/23

The man going by the name martyrmade that was the subject of this article contacted me in gracious tones via email and has assured me that he uses my work for research and that if he made any quotations that were not attributed to my work but based on it, that he meant no harm.

Thank you, Sir.

The important thing is that someone keeps discussing those millions or murdered European American orphans that did the work now attributed to Africans and Atlanteans.

Numerous literary agents and copyright lawyers as well as Paramount and Orion film production companies have been contacting this crackpot about licensing and promotional agreements. The strangest one was when a form letter in the name of the married, gawdly lesbian head of a film company, was sent to me with warnings, that if I don’t sign with them for the development of a Netfilx movie, that my work would likely be pirated, that I needed lawyers and agents and film directors to keep me from getting ripped off. I am told that I have an agent that has been submitting work.

When I respond that I have no agent I am not believed.

When I state on the phone that I am not interested in having my work sold in Hollywood, silence or a gasp greets my ears.

Of course, I have been getting ripped off by a knife maker, a magazine, Chinese publishers, ebook archivists and even my main publisher, Amazon, for 22 years now. Then, today, after I shoveled snow for Frank the Eskimo, and was walking to the Yeti Waters Lair, Lynn Lockhart, my editor, called me and informed me that Plantation America was being used as uncredited source material by a major twitter podcaster with something like 250,000 followers. She even told me that this fellow who goes by some martyr handle and is an associate of Super Soldier Jacko, whose book I reviewed some few years ago, was reading my answers to a Myth 20 interview word for word from a transcript and claiming the ideas for his own. Lynn said that she sent a private message to the fellow and suggested, that since he was a fan of James LaFond, and that since I was homeless, he might consider giving me a free substack subscription.

Silence.

The lady asked me if she should do any more on my behalf and I declined, “I don’t want you spending any time defending me.”

And we went on to discuss what she will be putting up on substack and patreon.

Whoever this fellow is he must be a real American and understand the essence of America, which is mythic imagery built upon theft and engineered with lies and omissions. Good for him—he should do well.

I was invited on one large podcast by Don Jefferies a historian of American conspiracies. Don sent me a nice email and invited me into his platform with the help of an engineer. But, I, being a techtard with donated equipment, was unable to join Don and his engineer in the studio. I was able to see them and hear them and they could see me. I could see them with their nice desks and equipment and Don, in his tasteful clothes, with my ragged mug at the bottom of the screen with the pantry shelf with canned beans and chili behind me, and I cringed.

After wasting an hour of these men’s time they returned me each a gracious email offering to reschedule with me when I was able to get a computer that could do streamyard, I think was the platform. We were to speak of Plantation America. I told them that I would have internet in May and would contact them when some person with a technical brain set me in front of a computer that could do the magic dance. Don told me that he understood about my homeless situation and that it made me a unique guest.

What is so interesting to me about this, is that writing Plantation America is what made me homeless, as it was the basis for me having my best earning books banned by Amazon and since, having all of my books shadow-banned. This ironically made me into an agricultural servant for 4 months of each year, doing unpaid labor for room and food.

Furthermore, Plantation America is never something I wanted to write about and it has taken more effort than any project, and is not even a subject I care about. It is just that, having stumbled upon a mass grave of millions of boys, youths and men of my same ethnic disgrace, a morbid empathy has prevented me from turning guiltlessly away; and in irony, assured that I share their anonymous fate, even in the discussion of theirs.

I regard this as fitting and just.

When one affronts a jealous god, punishment should come as no surprise...and what god could be more jealous than the Greedy God of Things?