Watkins: Fill & Download for Free

My brother is a Trump supporter. He watches Fox “News”. That’s the only news he gets except, occasionally, NPR. He was visiting me last summer and asked me what I thought about the American economy being so awful until Trump took office. After counting to ten (silently), I suggested he google “American economy in the 21st century.” He did. There was silence for half an hour while he read articles and looked at charts on his phone. Finally, he said, “hmmm, I didn’t know how good things were during the Obama administration.”I replied, “It must make you wonder how many other things Fox has lied to you about.” Unfortunately, that one moment of clarity didn’t stick. He’s back in his bubble watching the lies and propaganda from Fox.

In the US, almost every conspiracy theory is in the end about money, and QAnon is no exception.One of the lead Qcumbers, and a person suspected of being Q, is this guy:This is Jim Watkins. He’s a pig farmer in the Philippines and owner of a message board called 8kun (formerly called 8chan), where “Q” first appeared and where “Q” posts “official” messages. He also owns a site that archives “Q drops.”Jim Watkins has founded a political action committee called “Disarm the Deep State” that collects donations to support political candidates who believe in QAnon. The money is spent to promote their campaigns.Specifically, the money is spent to buy advertising……on 8kun.

I responded to a call of “two men with guns shooting in a residential neighborhood”. This is a big deal and scary. I rushed over there and drove around the neighborhood looking for the man and listening for the gunshots. Two boys about 10 or 12 were walking along the street. Both were all dressed up as cowboys with cowboy hats, cap guns in their holsters and boots and carrying Red Ryder BB guns. I called them over to the car to tell them to get inside while I continued my search but first I asked if they had heard any shooting. Just as they started to talk, a woman in her bathrobe and giant curlers in her hair, shouted as she leaned out of her front screen door, “That’s them! They were shooting all over the neighborhood!”.Another time, I was called to a bar fight at a local dive. I got there and people were standing outside. A woman was standing inside the door but was facing toward the inside of the bar. She had on a shirt and panties with no dress or pants. She was shouting and cussing and throwing bottles and chairs at a man hiding behind a table a few feet away. I came up behind her and grabbed her and bent her over a table while I handcuffed her. She was screaming that it was the guy that was the bad guy because he tried to grope and rape her. I handed off the woman to another cop to take outside and then went to the cowering man behind the table. He was cut and bleeding in several places, his shirt was almost torn off. He was shaking and in obvious pain. I asked him if he had attacked the woman. He said, “No. Her skirt came off while she was dancing with another man and I was trying to help her put it back on.” I asked why he did that. He said, “that’s my wife”.I was patrolling some of the more rural roads in southern Guam when I decided to stop for lunch. No sooner than I stopped, an old pickup whizzed by me going at least double the speed limit. I jumped back into my car and gave chase. At first, the pickup driver tried to evade me by driving on some back roads but I stuck with him. I could hear the engine race and the gears grinding as he tried to shift the gears going up and down hills on the rough dirt roads. When we came back out onto the pavement, he pulled over.Before I got out, I could see the double-barrel of a shotgun sticking up from the front seat. This didn’t scare me but it made me overly cautious. I drew my pistol and got on the PA speaker, stood behind my door and ordered the driver to get out of the pickup slowly. He just waved his left hand out the window. I repeated my order and he just waved some more and said something but I could not hear what he said. I repeated this process several times, trying to make it more urgent each time but he never moved. I finally decided to carefully approach the vehicle. I shouted to him several times to put both hands out the window but he only put his left hand out. I was afraid he might have the other hand on the shotgun or a pistol. I came up really slow with my gun drawn and watching that shotgun barrel for the slightest movement. I kept asking him to comply but all I heard was mumbling and growling.I could see that he had a large dead pig (about 150–200 lbs) in the back of the pickup. This was relatively common on Guam. There were a lot of wild pigs on the island and poaching was common in the rural areas but illegal. It was common practice on Guam to give a ticket for the poaching but to let the person keep the pig. He obviously did not want to be caught and have to pay the fine.As I approached the window, I was searching for any sign of where his right hand was or if he had a gun in his lap. I wanted to stay close to the car and as far back behind the driver’s window as I could to make it harder for him to shoot me. I could not see his right arm nor into his lap. I kept moving literally inches at a time. I finally grabbed his left arm and pressed it hard against the door and moved forward enough to put my pistol right in front of his face. I had to lean up and forward to look into the car. It was then that I saw that the driver had no right arm. He also didn’t have any legs. He had two sticks duct-taped to the gas and clutch pedals and a tire innertube tied across his chest holding him in his seat.I hesitated while I took in all of this and my mind was racing with the implications. How was he driving a stick shift with no legs and only one hand? How did he hunt and shoot that pig? How did he get it into the truck? My wandering mind was snapped back to attention as he tried to move his arm and growled again. I holstered my pistol and reached in and took the shotgun and then released his arm. He reached into his pocket and took out a short tube shaped device and held it to his neck. He then growled again only this time, words came out of this device as he said, “Gimme the goddam ticket and let me get out of here:”.