Of Public Concern: Open Forum

Midge

The Nation needs your help and we need it now.  

I was informed that I had to abide by my case plan and I would receive my children back. I followed all of the stipulations that I was informed to do and still no children.

That sage advice stems from the Judeo-Christian wisdom of treating others as you wish to be treated. So, I am grappling with how it must feel for my dear friend Shakir Hamoodi and members of his family today when they were terrorized by secretive government agents. Shakir was in Michigan doing what he has done for several years, working on fund raising for Life for Relief and Development. It is a charitable organization set up to provide humanitarian relief for war victims and refugees. It is a Muslim charity and has raised over $50 million for Muslim victims of war so that widows and orphans among others, can have some relief. There are those in this country however that see all Muslim charities as fronts for terrorists. However, there is an important fact that you should know before allowing yourself to believe this charity is a front for terrorists. When the U.S. Army surrounded and then literally destroyed the city of Fallujah in Iraq, the Coalition Provisional government headed by Paul Bremer, contacted Life For Relief and Development and asked them to provide humanitarian assistance for survivors of Fallujah because the government trusted them. They have operated openly in the U.S. for years. 

Monday morning, Sept 18th, at 9 AM there was a simultaneous raid of the headquarters of the charity in Southfield, Michigan and at Shakir Hamoodi's home in Columbia. Here, 20 federal agents disabled the security code on Shakir's garage and entered his home and surprised his older daughter and two of his sons in their living room. They were startled and frightened by these unknown armed men who never bothered to knock on their door, or to show them the warrant which they waved in front of them and then immediately put away. Their mother had already gone to work as a school teacher. When Shakir's daughter tried to call him on her cell phone they ordered her to put the phone away. They made the Hamoodi kids leave the home while they seized computers and began going through papers and files, confiscating them too. None of the feds bothered to do the decent thing and ask Shakir if he'd be willing to cooperate with an investigation into any possible illegal activity. Instead they went behind his back and waited until he was out of town. 

Your Honor,

I am here today to be sentenced for a crime that was committed not by me but against me. A crime that took place on my land against myself and my family. Bullies, that came into my home and threatened that if I do not give up my rights freely I will be charged with impeding. This fact was testified to by my accuser officer Murano in family court and again in the trial of Earl Allcock. Two officers also testified to this fact at my trial. 

I could not and can not, give up my rights. Too many people died for me to have those rights. I stand firm in my belief that my rights were and are still way to important to just be bullied out of them. 

I went to trial and never got the right to face my accuser. Another one of my rights that just disappears. Officer Murano didn't even bother to testify at my trial. He was the one who threatened me and accused me. That seems to be all right with the court and everyone involved except for me and my family and those who know the Constitutional laws. 

Tax his land, Tax his bed, Tax the table at which he's fed. 
Tax his tractor, Tax his mule, Teach him taxes are the rule. 
Tax his cow, Tax his goat, Tax his pants, Tax his coat. 
Tax his ties, Tax his shirt, Tax his work, Tax his dirt. 
Tax his tobacco, Tax his drink, Tax him if he tries to think. 
Tax his cigars, Tax his beers, If he cries, then tax his tears. 
Tax his car, Tax his gas, Find other ways to tax his ass 
Tax all he has then let him know that you won't be done till he has no dough. 
When he screams and hollers, then tax him some more, tax him till he's good and sore. 

Then tax his coffin, tax his grave, tax the sod in which he's laid. 
Put these words upon his tomb, "Taxes drove me to my doom..." 
When he's gone, do not relax, its time to apply the inheritance tax.