10 GROUNDCOVER NEWS VENDOR VOICES Continued from “Reimagining Walden, a loathing,” the June 27, 2025 edition of Groundcover News, p. 10 It was good advice the Indian gave me when he said “Watch Scotty.” In the most underhanded ways Scott showed his true colors while I was asleep after a long hard day's work. I had washed up and eaten and collapsed, and I'd only been asleep for a few hours when I was “a-baconed” (the experience of being woken up by police of some kind) by the Sheriff's Department. Scott had waited till I was out cold and then made up a story about how I said I was going to kill his dogs and invited the cops in with the story that everything in the house that was illegal was mine. The truth is that he had paid for everything even remotely lefthanded. I would learn that one cannot subpoena credit card records in Michigan, which is interesting. The sheriff and narcs of lawnet, who are low IQ scumbags, bungled the whole thing in conjunction with the shortbus riders of the Livingston County prosecutor's office; I wouldn't know anything about this for several more years to come. At the time of the incident I was just a poor guy sleeping on a couch working for a jerk who would try to put me away and not pay me for my work! ALL that was actually mine was just some clothes. I didn't have what is known in the fast-paced and competitive field of professional drug dealing as “Constructive possession." This refers to a drug possession case where one doesn't have physical possession of whatever substance is being traded in. It’s all about “Dominion and Control,” and so far as “the Oklahoma crack house statues,” they state one must “keep and maintain” a crack house in order to be in charge of a ANTHONY SMITH Groundcover contributor crack house. One could conceivably have a “crack jetski” or “crack yurt” so long as some kind of drug is for sale, mostly. And there was keeping and maintaining going on, but “i be’s in the trap lmfao.” I had turned a blind eye to many things and let it all go too long, because I thought Scott was a good guy at first. I trusted him, but it was all a scam. I'm not a sucker — I thought at one point I had an okay job, then my car messed up and I was stuck and I couldn't leave. Try telling that to a judge. I had no money and no transportation. None of the parasites who used to hang around were anywhere to be found when I needed a friend. At the time I was counting on a job. I wanted to learn plumbing and electric in more detail. I ended up driving a degenerate Satanist to do drug deals and get hookers, and the minute I wanted off the BS bus Scott set me up with the police. If the officers involved were in any way competent it would have been obvious I hadn’t done it. The War on Drugs doesn't care about people — it needs bodies to feed the beast. The whole shitshow in Livingston County — the damn county is essentially a dry county compared to Washtenaw. However, they do pass out Suboxone in jail as if junkies need to stay hooked. I fortunately did eat some in jail and got high off it lol. Drugs make jail suck less. Livingston damn County has NO dispensaries in sight, but keep the job security going with the Suboxone in medical! I know, let’s give meth to the trailer parks? I watched the medical recipients of Suboxone come in and out every single day. On the 18th of August, 2020, Raymond Scott Myers thought he could get me hauled off that night. The Sheriff's office in many places sucks less than the respective police departments do in Michigan, aka FEMA region 5. Sheriffs themselves are Constitutionally elected directly by the people, unlike the police departments. President Washington was correct in warning about standing armies, and the militarization of law enforcement that occured in the last century will be hard to undo. If things like COVID, the National Firearms Act, and the Hurricane Katrina door-to-door gun confiscation have taught us anything, it is that the enforcers of the Zionist Occupation Government will walk all over the rights of the American people if it means that they can keep their pensions, and they will do it using guns paid for by money stolen out of the paychecks of the hardworking taxpayers. In the surrounding FEMA region 5, Orwellian big brother stuff has already crept all across the nation. Many people don't know income tax was only supposed to be a temporary measure: it was intended to fund World War I, a war many Americans really really wanted to fight. Our tax dollars have funded incinerating children in Waco Texas, and they have lovingly dropped herbicides on toddlers in the third world whose only crime was being born into families of coca and marijuana farmers. I wasn’t born into it; it was Magic Mushrooms that drew me into my unfortunate stint with Scott. A life-changing sum of money will motivate most people. My employer, blind Scotty, ended up owing me about $5,000. The deputy that showed up couldn't get me paid — or wouldn't. However, he tried to get me to tell on myself and then proceeded to jump on my case. I wouldn't learn about this though till years later. In the meantime I was legally ripped off by a conman who used the cops as a way to cheat me out of my wages. Really, it was one of the worst expe- riences of my life. I've been ripped off so many times by predatory jerks. There are tons of corrupt, loophole-type laws that never seem to favor the poor and always seem to enable scumbags like Scott, and shady innkeepers at pay-by-the-week motels, or AUGUST 8, 2025 Reimagining Walden, part two: this time it's personal owners of the apartments with rents that were higher than the house payment a bank told me I couldn't afford. The next day, I availed myself of the “bacon bastards” (police) protection so I had this on my mind. I hadn’t seen it coming, but my Indian friend certainly had, telling me, “I told you big guy,” when I lamented my situation. In truth, Scotty literally did this to several people a year. The old Indian saved me next. He let me bring my clothes over, and I turned over some of the equipment. I was able to clear a few bucks from the tubs and stuff because they could potentially also be used for herpetology. My friend's son-in-law bred reptiles, so I stole them from the supplies I helped myself to and I limped my poor Jeep across the street. What happened was an extra sort of funny and if you wanted to see a worm squirm more vigorously you'd have to flip over a rock on a sunny day and then drop the slimy guy on an ant hill. Scott was angry and afraid that the old Indian was going to help me, so he told every one of their mutual friends that he had found a bag full of IDs and passports based on them and various names, like I was some kind of Jason Bourne Secret Agent Man. His ridiculous stories got nowhere and over the next few days the old Indian and I got my Jeep up on jack stands and made a plan to fix it. It turned out he'd been a jet mechanic in the Marines and would help me get my Jeep back on the road if I helped him move some fence sections around that he was painting. Still, it was a kind of 19th century barter for work and meals. One compares America today to the young land of liberty that Thoreau knew when he lived for a time at Walden and canoed up the nearby river; in his day, whisky, furs and lots of stuff, even old nails pried off of boards, traded hands. The issues faced by me in 2020 can be juxtaposed with what my great-grandfather faced. Herbert James Adams, of the line of John and John Quincy Adams, both early American presidents and important figures in the American Revolution, came of age in a much different America than I live in today. My paw paw, as I called him, was a barely literate Southern Illinois hillbilly. According to my great grandmother Inez Von Braden, my grandfather had a job in the auto industry. He moved from Marion, Ill., to sunny 54 West Hopkins in Pontiac, Mich., and got a lifelong job working for Fisher Body. When he was about 100 the UAW paper see WALDEN next page
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