EVERY NET USER SHOULD WATCH THIS! This guy is a private investigator, some years before the 2008 2600 conference he was arrested by the FBI just before he can give this talk. Find out why... ;) You will find out that "Big Brother" from 1984 is nothing compares to the real surveillance grid that actually monitor every single aspect of your life. ( moins )

EVERY NET USER SHOULD WATCH THIS! This guy is a private investigator, some years before the 2008 2600 conference he was arrested by the FBI just before he can give this talk. Find out why... ;) You will find out that "Big Brother" from 1984 is nothing compares to the real surveillance grid that actually monitor every single aspect of your life. ( moins )

EVERY NET USER SHOULD WATCH THIS! This guy is a private investigator, some years before the 2008 2600 conference he was arrested by the FBI just before he can give this talk. Find out why... ;) You will find out that "Big Brother" from 1984 is nothing compares to the real surveillance grid that actually monitor every single aspect of your life. ( moins )

EVERY NET USER SHOULD WATCH THIS! This guy is a private investigator, some years before the 2008 2600 conference he was arrested by the FBI just before he can give this talk. Find out why... ;) You will find out that "Big Brother" from 1984 is nothing compares to the real surveillance grid that actually monitor every single aspect of your life. ( moins )

EVERY NET USER SHOULD WATCH THIS! This guy is a private investigator, some years before the 2008 2600 conference he was arrested by the FBI just before he can give this talk. Find out why... ;) You will find out that "Big Brother" from 1984 is nothing compares to the real surveillance grid that actually monitor every single aspect of your life. ( moins )

FRANCAIS: Regarder Dans Le Brouillard (The Fog Watch) était une poésie par l’oncle de Vic Sadot, George Reuter.Vic a adapté le poème à la musique en 1976. Le poèt regarde dans le brouillard et une vision du passé apparaît roulement. Il y a deux conducteurs de bestiaux dans un chariot dessiné par boeufs prenant leur moisson au marché. En jours avant les routes paves, ce voyage était une aventure annuaire que les fermiers ont attendu ardemment. Tandis qu'ils voyageaient sur les routes boueuses, ils parlent de ce qu'ils ont voulu pour acheter quand ils sont arrivés au marché à Dover, Delaware: " D'abord, j'achèterai le tissu pour ma bonne dame, Sadie, une bouteille de rhum pour mon bon voisin, Brady, farine pour des biscuits, du lard et des haricots, les graines pour cultiver les légumes verts dans mon jardin de printemps sur ma terre. " Un voyage qui a besoin de seulement quelques heures aujourd'hui a exigé un séjour durant la nuit à L'Auberge de Sirène (Mermaid Inn)et pour le retour du marché. ANGLAIS: The Fog Watch was a poem by Vic Sadot's Uncle George Reuter that Vic adapted to music. The poet looks into the fog and a vision of the past comes rolling through. There are two drovers in an oxen drawn wagon taking their harvest to market. In the days before paved roads this trek was an annual overnight adventure that the farmers looked forward to. As they trod over the muddy roads they talk about what they want to buy when they get to the market in Dover, Delaware. "First I'll buy cloth for my good lady Sadie, a bottle of rum for my good neighbor Brady, flour for bisuits, some bacon and beans, seed for growing spring garden greens on my land. " A trip that takes us a few hours today required an overnight stay at the Mermaid Tavern Inn on the way to and on the way back from the marketplace. ( moins )

Come you masters of war You that build all the guns You that build the death planes You that build the big bombs You that hide behind walls You that hide behind desks I just want you to know I can see through your masks You that never done nothin' But build to destroy You play with my world Like it's your little toy You put a gun in my hand And you hide from my eyes And you turn and run farther When the fast bullets fly Like Judas of old You lie and deceive A world war can be won You want me to believe But I see through your eyes And I see through your brain Like I see through the water That runs down my drain You fasten the triggers For the others to fire Then you set back and watch When the death count gets higher You hide in your mansion As young people's blood Flows out of their bodies And is buried in the mud You've thrown the worst fear That can ever be hurled Fear to bring children Into the world For threatening my baby Unborn and unnamed You ain't worth the blood That runs in your veins How much do I know To talk out of turn You might say that I'm young You might say I'm unlearned But there's one thing I know Though I'm younger than you Even Jesus would never Forgive what you do Let me ask you one question Is your money that good Will it buy you forgiveness Do you think that it could I think you will find When your death takes its toll All the money you made Will never buy back your soul And I hope that you die And your death'll come soon I will follow your casket In the pale afternoon And I'll watch while you're lowered Down to your deathbed And I'll stand o'er your grave 'Til I'm sure that you're dead ( moins )

C'est la même toune que j'avais déjà uploadé mais avec une meilleure qualité sonore... The constant realization of dominance results in fear Wake-up tired with a mouth full of nothing Deceived distressed by the truth they've been witholding Televisionary popular identity Getting closer to the minute of our gravity I sometimes ask myself did I speak my mind Or shut my mouth Was I a follower a leader insignificant Mere shadow of a ghost bearing innocence Constative voices preach Talk of truth in their political speak Carry on 'til they're blue in the face And my point of view has lost it's place Last things Did i give nothing in return Stand up for a cause Give permission to a mute war Call me ignorant maybe i was never smart Like a wolf running high on adrenaline All the while in the dim with a low hum Rising up growing loud i can hear them Religious left and right Power hungry heads of stat e Melancholy death fall of our nemesis Strong will survive or so say our presidents 43242 code 1 Troops move forward let it all be done Begining of the end soil has been tread Mother daughter father song sky burns death Premonition, television stuttering indecision We the people citizens lies are being force fed Money power cruelty blood is shed in our streets When where does the sacrifice end We're falling fast from the war inspired Double standard idiots Helterskelter henchmen Consequences catastrophic Lead us not into temptation with your Damning words and gorified hatred Avengeful lineage We will bear alone to our death ( moins )

The Stimulator ''predicting''xD the result of the election and he talk about the ''future'' 2008 RNC protest. Tom will explain to you how to survive during a protest. Great music, funny things and more! Submedia.tv Équeuré de la propagande fédéraliste? On se voit sur les plaines!!! Comme Falardeau â dis: «On va organiser ca ben nice» XD http://www.tagtele.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=2266 Next BIG protest, http://submedia.tv/stimulator/2008/12/29/vancouver-after-the-2010-riot/ ( moins )

Dedicated to every ''Hollywood whore'' past, present and future. If you are one of them I hope this video will help you re-think your life... Hollywood whore, passed out on the floor i’m sorry but the party’s over cocaine nose and trendy clothes gotta send her to rehab she found out she has no soul, but it really doesn’t bother her white trash queen, American dream oh what a role model throwing a fit, making a scene like no tomorrow Hollywood whore passed out on the floor can’t take it no more i’m sorry but the party’s over the talk of the town is she’s going down i’m sorry but the party’s over now awake by noon, drunk by four sucked up in the showbiz your so lame, your such a bore i wanna kick your teeth in plastic smile to match your style we can tell you got a face lift your so vein, oh so vile your a number one hit Hollywood whore passed out on the floor can’t take it no more i’m sorry but the party’s over the talk of the town, is she’s going down i’m sorry but the party’s over the cameras are gone and nobody screams she couldn’t survive her fifteen minutes of fame her friends are all gone, she’s going insane she’ll never survive without the money and fame it’s all going down the drain.. Hollywood whore passed out on the floor i’m sorry but the party’s over the talk of the town, is she’s going down i’m sorry but that party’s over Hollywood whore passed out on the floor i’m sorry but the party’s over the talk of the town, is she’s going down i’m sorry but that party’s over wake up, the party’s over wake up, the party’s over wake up, the party’s over wake up, the party’s over now (hahaha) don’t let the door hit ya where the good lord split ya honey (hahahaha) ( moins )