CARIIS
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IMo this is congress not the oval office
FL - Terrorist Discussion/49 Killed in Orlando at Nightclub Pulse
- Thread starter Tricia
- Start date
IMo this is congress not the oval office
oceanblueeyes
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He also, is not an ISIS terrorist he was so mentally ill....
Just reporting the facts:
Starting in the spring of 2008, key officials from Walter Reed Army Medical Center and the Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences held a series of meetings and conversations,.... about Maj. Nidal Hasan, One of the questions they pondered: Was Hasan psychotic?
...................serious concerns that officials raised about Hasan during his time at both institutions.
other mental health professionals who train and work at the institutions.
military psychiatrists and officials who worked closely with Hasan, Hood shootings.
Deeply Troubling, Schizoid Behavior
items on their agenda was: What should we do about Hasan?
Both fellow students and faculty were deeply troubled by Hasan's behavior — which they variously called disconnected, aloof, paranoid, belligerent, and schizoid.
Here are the folks that had serious concerns about his sanity:
John Bradley, chief of psychiatry at Walter Reed;
Robert Ursano, chairman of the Psychiatry Department at USUHS;
Charles Engel, assistant chair of the Psychiatry Department and director of Hasan's psychiatry fellowship;
Dr. David Benedek, another assistant chairman of psychiatry at USUHS;
psychiatrist Carroll J. Diebold; and Scott Moran, director of the psychiatric residency program at Walter Reed,
Hasan was mentally unstable and unfit to be an Army psychiatrist?
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=120313570[/QUOTE]
Yes, just the facts. If he had been deemed mentally ill he wouldn't have stood trial and been given the death penalty. He was actively treating patients at the time when he turned into an Islamic terrorist.
Here are the facts.
Fort Hood Victims Awarded Purple Hearts
For years the survivors have fought to get the military to recognize the shooting by Maj. Nidal Hasan as a terrorist attack, which would make them eligible for the Purple Hearts and other combat-related benefits. But the military pushed back, likening the attack to workplace violence.
Thirteen people were killed and another 32 were injured when Hasan opened fire on his fellow soldiers at the Texas Army facility in November 2009. Hasan said during his trial the troops were about to deploy to Afghanistan where they would pose an immediate danger to the Taliban, whom he said he was defending.
Three years after the attack, Munley (the one who shot Hasan and stopped his terrorist attack) told ABC News she felt "betrayed" by President Obama, who had welcomed her as a hero at the 2010 State of the Union Address. "Betrayed is a good word," Munley said. "Not to the least little bit have the victims been taken care of... In fact, they've been neglected."
The move was precipitated by a change in the law that broadened the strict eligibility rules for the medal, which is awarded to those wounded in combat. Advocates for the victims gained support from members of Congress who succeeded in including legislation in the 2015 National Defense Authorization Act that broadened the definition of an attack by a “a foreign terrorist organization" to include contacts the perpetrator may have had with a foreign terrorist organization prior to the attack and “if the attack was inspired or motivated by the foreign terrorist organization.”
http://abcnews.go.com/US/fort-hood-...e-hearts-long-controversial/story?id=30223808
This should have never been listed as workplace violence to begin with but that was what Obama was pushing and the military had to follow his lead. Thank goodness they finally came to their senses and called these horrific Islamic terrorist acts what they were all along. Its shameful it took the victims and families this long to be recognized. They were awarded the purple heart because they had been attacked by a homegrown Muslim terrorist on their very own Army base at Ft. Hood.
Those are the facts, and yes, Major Hasan was indeed another radical Islamic sympathizer who carried out a terror attack on our soil.
bluesneakers
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Agree. Useless. All they (the majority) care about is not letting any legislation get through.
JMO
oceanblueeyes
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I respectfully disagree. From minute one Obama has made this all about gun control rather than talking about the real and most important subject ....which is another radical Islamic terrorist has hit our people once again on our own soil and now holds the mass shooting record in our history.
oceanblueeyes
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How nice of them to completely and conveniently ignore the largest mass murder in our history which were done by Islamic terrorists on our soil. I suppose we are just suppose to pretend that 3000 people didn't lose their lives because of 20 Islamic fanatical Muslims. They just wipe the slate clean as if those victims never existed and conveniently start over so that they can pretend its the right wing extremists who have taken more lives instead of Muslim terrorists. I don't even know how they can live with themselves promoting this biased propaganda.
I would like to see a list of right wing terrorists who have murdered 3000 people and continue to murder in mass.
IMO
oceanblueeyes
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I don't think he was mentally ill. For some reason some think homegrown Islamic terrorists are mentally ill when there is no evidence of that. There is nothing that shows he didn't have clear cognitive thought throughout all of the planning stage and then carrying it out.
Hate is an emotion. Hate is not a mental illness. Mateen was filled with hatred like any other fanatical religious terrorist who harms innocent people. They are all motivated by hate. Mateen was perfectly capable of carrying out the largest mass shooting in our history with a total of 103 victims. He methodically planned it all out from going to the club beforehand, to making sure he put his assets in someone else's name way back in April to buying the weapons and ammo needed. To methodically shooting each and every vulnerable victim. There was nothing wrong with his mind. It was his heart and it was filled with hatred for all infidels.
He is no more mentally ill than Dylan Roof was or most others who have done mass murders.
Very few who carryout terrorist attacks like this are mentally ill. A few have been.........most aren't and Mateen isn't one of the ones who was mentally ill. IMO
IMO
Dont see why a guy has to spend years playing around with radical Islam before he goes on his binge to be considered a radical Islamist; for sure ISIS doesn't give a dang. The guy got on the phone and started babbling about why he was doing it and yet still folks question his 'Islamic ties'? Okay...
Why don't we examine the mental health of the ISIS beheaders...cause for sure they are sane, right?
Why don't we examine the mental health of the ISIS beheaders...cause for sure they are sane, right?
tangelo
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extraterrestrials bigger threat to US according to Independence Day 2, so...
JLSChook
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Since Cariis brought it up and the post remains, it would be good to note that most, if not all of the non Islamic Terrorist mass shooters were registered Democrats.
Maybe LEFT wing extremists are the bigger threat. :facepalm:
Just sayin'.
Maybe LEFT wing extremists are the bigger threat. :facepalm:
Just sayin'.
bluesneakers
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So...
Right Wing Extremists are a bigger threat to America than Left Wing Extremists.
Makes perfect sense. :facepalm:
bluesneakers
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KALI
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I love your spirit Ocean Blue Eyes,
I know, that our leaders, lie, mis-lead, use the left wing press, provide freebies to potential voters for their parties agendas.
I know, that these leaders, starting right from the top, will cram down our throats, what they want.
I will not forget, the thousands of illegal immigrants being bussed into our communities, in the name of "children". When the true pictures came out that these were mostly men.
I do not forget our border agents crying foul, to their jobs being threatened, for trying to do their jobs.
I will always consider this man as a terrorist.
He said it, and I believe it.
CARIIS
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Since childhood he has displayed a proclivity to lie about things ISIS related
he secretly live his entire life as lie
He said he knew the Boston bombers - it was a lie..
He claimed he was "friends" with the suicidal bomber - it was a lie.
Hr stated Osama was his uncle - it was a lie.
He claimed he had rigged the club with bombs (San Bern did this -they just failed) - it was a lie
He lived a dual life - indicating lying is not an issue for him
He proclaimed his alledgeance to three belief systems - not getting ones story correct is indicative of lying,
and in the final hours of his life some folks beleive him??
What is the adage; once a liar always a liar?
He copied other folks;
SAN BERN- He claimed he had rigged the club with bombs (San Bern did this -they just failed) - it was a lie. Copy cat.
PARIS- he had folks outside in suicide vest. copy cat.
.. Tashfeen Malik posted a Facebook post pledging allegiance to ISIS just minutes after the San Bernardino attack was over. Cpoy cat.
IMO, In case they got killed
"falsification entirely disproportionate to any discernible end in view, may be extensive and very complicated, and may manifest over a period of years or even a lifetime.......pathological lying has been defined as "falsification entirely disproportionate to any discernible end in view, may be extensive and very complicated, and may manifest over a period of years or even a lifetime".Sometimes however, the individual may be lying to make their life seem more exciting when in reality they believe their life is unpleasant or boring.
The fabricative tendency is chronic; it is not provoked by the immediate situation or social pressure so much as it is an innate trait of the personality
The liar "decorates their own person"[SUP][3][/SUP] by telling stories that present them as the hero or the victim.
Excessive lying is a common symptom of several mental disorders. People affected by antisocial disorder lie for external personal profit in the forms of money, sex, and power.
Due to lack of trust, most pathological liars' relationships and friendships fail.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pathological_lying
Read more: http://therightscoop.com/heres-the-...d-during-their-jihadist-attack/#ixzz4CmC9hqwO
Internationialy acclaimed news outlet verses science fiction !
CARIIS
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I went to the memorial :
Several days after this abomination, I knew at some point I would have to go down there. I also trusted myself that I would know "when " I could do so. It mattered to me.
As many of you know, I went down there last Monday fully aware that the scene was was blocked off. On that visit, I had to see to the media, from all over the world , caring about this story. It mattered to me.
I decided last night that today would be day. I would go early, so that if I got lost I did not have to attempt to find my way with traffic all about. I was also aware that it was an experience I wanted to do in quiet, without a lot of people around. That, too, mattered to me.
On my way down there it was moving that all the signs above the expressway, usually warning of an upcoming traffic delay, today , mentioned June 12.
Over the past week , I began to notice that my furry friend had been staying a bit closer to me, knowing instinctively that I needed her presence a bit more these days. . That mattered to me.
On the way to the center , I passed impromtu memorials, many large, at random locations on the side streets. .As I got closer I could see the the vast open space adorned with colors - rainbow colors,, and "ojects" of all sizes and shapes.
As i was getting closer , the magnitude of what had transpired, grew. I had forgotten my Kleenex. Upon getting closer, the creativity of the community, and many others, struck me profoundly.
While finding a parking space I saw that a parking meter, still claiming that the parking space was "for media only". Another reminder of enormity of the past week. For some reason I was glad that it had accidental been left. It mattered to me.
I saw lighters left about, so that visitors could light a candle, if one could find one that, unlike like the victims, had not flickered away, I found one, and lit it. That also, mattered to me.
I begin to see the pictures of those forever seared into our hearts and minds. Although unknown personally, they had become familiar faces for many of us here. Too familiar. For incomprehensible reasons. In all likelihood it shall remain so.-forever.
Magic markers were left all about the memorial. Many of those that had been there before, some many times, knew that many others would follow, and experience a yearning to leave their words as well. That mattered to me.
There were about 8 people doing what they needed to do for themselves, each in their own way and mind. For those that were there with someone, their conversations consisted of whispers. It was solemn ground, filled only with stillness. Walking slowed down, too much to take in. That too, mattered to me.
There was a homeless man sleeping about 15 feet away, his torn back pack,and sun burnt cheeks, reminded each of us a different kind of misery. I noticed about 8 folding chairs facing toward the flowers, reefs, pictures, candles,with goodbyes all over them. We had, after all, made promise not to forget them. One elderly man sat, hands clutched. That too,mattered to me.
Many of the flowers had begin to wither. They had, however, unlike the people we all were forced to say goodbye to, had lived their lives as designed.. Fresh flowers , in some places, stood out in the bright sunshine, reminding me that people had laid them recently,fulfilling the promise not to be forgotten. That mattered to me.
I bought a small candle, and set it down but chose not to light it. I would save it for others that were sure to come behind me. I grabbed a magic marker and continued to absorb what I was immersed in.
I knew that I would wait, until, I saw and felt the item that called out to me for my words. It happened , for reasons that shall remain unknown to me, and sat down.. I had not noticed that the marker was bright red,and had leaked upon my hand. In much the same manner as copious amount of blood, had left the confines of the victims my right hand was red. The red ink on my hands, chilling in its own way, was, startling, but befuddling fitting .
The reasons why certain words heaped an intense sadness upon me remain unclear.
There were various separated beds of collections, appearing as if when one area become to much, another one had started and blossomed. Too big, and intimacy might be lost. prohibiting one of the ability to see the weary words surrounding me. The ache was profound.
There was an area where big sheets and blankets lay beside one another, with words scrawled upon them, in a wide array of colors and handwriting. There was very little room left for a future visitor that would too, have the same compelling need to need to witness what lay before me. I was flooded with memories of my little sister and and I doing the AIDS quilt decades earlier. in Washington.
My first thought was, how far we we have come, HIV being a monster of hate, while only the opposite was before me.Love. I quickly reminded myself there was more than enough hate continuing to fetter in other lands being oblivious to the reality that others of my ilk were deemed worthy of having their heads lobbed off, or heaved off high buildings.
I could not help but remember the irony I experienced when a few, very few, spewed hate of the same magnitude that had given birth to June 12.
As a gay man, I could grasp the notion of a safe haven, in our bars, being yanked away. Although i rarely attend with the ferocity I did decades ago I could easily understand that truth. Hopefully, there will a balance between moving on while never quite forgetting as well. It mattered to me.
A bright pink and orange, gay, colorful couch was in the bright sunlight - it too had little room left for another who yearned and needed to leave sentiments. I could not help but think that couches are where people lie down to rest. Usually in peace. Our 49 had nothing of the sort. That too mattered to me.
One of the areas had no one there, I enjoyed not being surrounded , far away from grief that passed me bye at the other locations. Behind me I saw people kneeling down randomly , when their need to do so, compelled them, to pick their own special space where and when it was their moment to do so.It mattered to me.
I noticed that the city had made signs of our gay and festive rainbow flag that was created in celebration , decades ago, for those of us lucky enough to celebrate " being". The signs claimed "Orlando Strong". The hung from street lights. I never particularly cared for those words, the word "Orlando" had made it too close. Strong I had not felt since the 11th.
In reality strength never accompanies powerlessness,lack of comprehension, confusion,grief or anger. In unison, together , they are actually draining and weakening.
In passing other swollen eyes, there was a need to make quick eye contact , to give a nod of comfort , to share a similiar yet unique sadness. The breif glances provided comfort. No words were necessary or spoken, with one another in passing.That, as well mattered to me.
I found comfort in finding out that items in the memorial would be saved and placed somewhere where visitors could , forever, feel what that night meant to the world. That, too mattered to me.
Upon returning to my car, I elected to drive the short distance to Pulse. On this Sunday , it was a small gathering. There remained a small police prescience . One police car was feet away from the collection that had amassed at the front of the horror. Its presence, was, in truth a unneeded reminder that all was not well. Another cop car was on the other side, parked in the car wash where the killers van had been. White and orange plastic barricades lined the actual road.
The black screening that had been put up in the unsuccessful hope to block what had occurred inside was laden with more words from others that felt to need to be at the location of such loss and despair.That, too, mattered to me.
There was a large box truck, behind the black screening that was too high to be blocked.. It was a disaster clean up vehicle. Its presence, at this point in time, reminded me of the intensity of the cruelty that had transpired behind closed doors.
Through the screening I saw two men in white boo-hazard suits and blue gloves walking toward the truck with another gentleman in regular clothing. Over time, I noticed that every car on the 4 lane road, in front of the club ,tapped their brakes. Every single one. That mattered to me.
As I walked away, I was struck by the thought that at that very moment I was doing the very same thing that the 49 innocent kids had done on that night leaving.....................................
On my drive home, I passed a giant electronic,billboard, with "Orlando Strong" reminding me the widespread impact June 12 has had here.
Although having only been up a couple of hours, I felt as if I needed sleep, I was zapped,spent and weary.
Was I glad I followed my compulsion to experience this day. Indeed. I was correct in knowing when I emotionally available to do so. could do so. When strong enough - in quiet. That mattered to me as well.
Upon my return home I had hoped for a dreary thunderstorm.Both clouds and hunger evaded me..............
As many of you know, I went down there last Monday fully aware that the scene was was blocked off. On that visit, I had to see to the media, from all over the world , caring about this story. It mattered to me.
I decided last night that today would be day. I would go early, so that if I got lost I did not have to attempt to find my way with traffic all about. I was also aware that it was an experience I wanted to do in quiet, without a lot of people around. That, too, mattered to me.
On my way down there it was moving that all the signs above the expressway, usually warning of an upcoming traffic delay, today , mentioned June 12.
Over the past week , I began to notice that my furry friend had been staying a bit closer to me, knowing instinctively that I needed her presence a bit more these days. . That mattered to me.
On the way to the center , I passed impromtu memorials, many large, at random locations on the side streets. .As I got closer I could see the the vast open space adorned with colors - rainbow colors,, and "ojects" of all sizes and shapes.
As i was getting closer , the magnitude of what had transpired, grew. I had forgotten my Kleenex. Upon getting closer, the creativity of the community, and many others, struck me profoundly.
While finding a parking space I saw that a parking meter, still claiming that the parking space was "for media only". Another reminder of enormity of the past week. For some reason I was glad that it had accidental been left. It mattered to me.
I saw lighters left about, so that visitors could light a candle, if one could find one that, unlike like the victims, had not flickered away, I found one, and lit it. That also, mattered to me.
I begin to see the pictures of those forever seared into our hearts and minds. Although unknown personally, they had become familiar faces for many of us here. Too familiar. For incomprehensible reasons. In all likelihood it shall remain so.-forever.
Magic markers were left all about the memorial. Many of those that had been there before, some many times, knew that many others would follow, and experience a yearning to leave their words as well. That mattered to me.
There were about 8 people doing what they needed to do for themselves, each in their own way and mind. For those that were there with someone, their conversations consisted of whispers. It was solemn ground, filled only with stillness. Walking slowed down, too much to take in. That too, mattered to me.
There was a homeless man sleeping about 15 feet away, his torn back pack,and sun burnt cheeks, reminded each of us a different kind of misery. I noticed about 8 folding chairs facing toward the flowers, reefs, pictures, candles,with goodbyes all over them. We had, after all, made promise not to forget them. One elderly man sat, hands clutched. That too,mattered to me.
Many of the flowers had begin to wither. They had, however, unlike the people we all were forced to say goodbye to, had lived their lives as designed.. Fresh flowers , in some places, stood out in the bright sunshine, reminding me that people had laid them recently,fulfilling the promise not to be forgotten. That mattered to me.
I bought a small candle, and set it down but chose not to light it. I would save it for others that were sure to come behind me. I grabbed a magic marker and continued to absorb what I was immersed in.
I knew that I would wait, until, I saw and felt the item that called out to me for my words. It happened , for reasons that shall remain unknown to me, and sat down.. I had not noticed that the marker was bright red,and had leaked upon my hand. In much the same manner as copious amount of blood, had left the confines of the victims my right hand was red. The red ink on my hands, chilling in its own way, was, startling, but befuddling fitting .
The reasons why certain words heaped an intense sadness upon me remain unclear.
There were various separated beds of collections, appearing as if when one area become to much, another one had started and blossomed. Too big, and intimacy might be lost. prohibiting one of the ability to see the weary words surrounding me. The ache was profound.
There was an area where big sheets and blankets lay beside one another, with words scrawled upon them, in a wide array of colors and handwriting. There was very little room left for a future visitor that would too, have the same compelling need to need to witness what lay before me. I was flooded with memories of my little sister and and I doing the AIDS quilt decades earlier. in Washington.
My first thought was, how far we we have come, HIV being a monster of hate, while only the opposite was before me.Love. I quickly reminded myself there was more than enough hate continuing to fetter in other lands being oblivious to the reality that others of my ilk were deemed worthy of having their heads lobbed off, or heaved off high buildings.
I could not help but remember the irony I experienced when a few, very few, spewed hate of the same magnitude that had given birth to June 12.
As a gay man, I could grasp the notion of a safe haven, in our bars, being yanked away. Although i rarely attend with the ferocity I did decades ago I could easily understand that truth. Hopefully, there will a balance between moving on while never quite forgetting as well. It mattered to me.
A bright pink and orange, gay, colorful couch was in the bright sunlight - it too had little room left for another who yearned and needed to leave sentiments. I could not help but think that couches are where people lie down to rest. Usually in peace. Our 49 had nothing of the sort. That too mattered to me.
One of the areas had no one there, I enjoyed not being surrounded , far away from grief that passed me bye at the other locations. Behind me I saw people kneeling down randomly , when their need to do so, compelled them, to pick their own special space where and when it was their moment to do so.It mattered to me.
I noticed that the city had made signs of our gay and festive rainbow flag that was created in celebration , decades ago, for those of us lucky enough to celebrate " being". The signs claimed "Orlando Strong". The hung from street lights. I never particularly cared for those words, the word "Orlando" had made it too close. Strong I had not felt since the 11th.
In reality strength never accompanies powerlessness,lack of comprehension, confusion,grief or anger. In unison, together , they are actually draining and weakening.
In passing other swollen eyes, there was a need to make quick eye contact , to give a nod of comfort , to share a similiar yet unique sadness. The breif glances provided comfort. No words were necessary or spoken, with one another in passing.That, as well mattered to me.
I found comfort in finding out that items in the memorial would be saved and placed somewhere where visitors could , forever, feel what that night meant to the world. That, too mattered to me.
Upon returning to my car, I elected to drive the short distance to Pulse. On this Sunday , it was a small gathering. There remained a small police prescience . One police car was feet away from the collection that had amassed at the front of the horror. Its presence, was, in truth a unneeded reminder that all was not well. Another cop car was on the other side, parked in the car wash where the killers van had been. White and orange plastic barricades lined the actual road.
The black screening that had been put up in the unsuccessful hope to block what had occurred inside was laden with more words from others that felt to need to be at the location of such loss and despair.That, too, mattered to me.
There was a large box truck, behind the black screening that was too high to be blocked.. It was a disaster clean up vehicle. Its presence, at this point in time, reminded me of the intensity of the cruelty that had transpired behind closed doors.
Through the screening I saw two men in white boo-hazard suits and blue gloves walking toward the truck with another gentleman in regular clothing. Over time, I noticed that every car on the 4 lane road, in front of the club ,tapped their brakes. Every single one. That mattered to me.
As I walked away, I was struck by the thought that at that very moment I was doing the very same thing that the 49 innocent kids had done on that night leaving.....................................
On my drive home, I passed a giant electronic,billboard, with "Orlando Strong" reminding me the widespread impact June 12 has had here.
Although having only been up a couple of hours, I felt as if I needed sleep, I was zapped,spent and weary.
Was I glad I followed my compulsion to experience this day. Indeed. I was correct in knowing when I emotionally available to do so. could do so. When strong enough - in quiet. That mattered to me as well.
Upon my return home I had hoped for a dreary thunderstorm.Both clouds and hunger evaded me..............
CARIIS
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Internationialy acclaimed news outlet verses science fiction !
rosemadderlake
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For CARIIS - RTBM: "As I walked away, I was struck by the thought that at that very moment I was doing the very same thing that the 49 innocent kids had done on that night leaving....................................."
So many Hugs! Xo
So many Hugs! Xo
rosemadderlake
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Absolutely the most powerful 'in memorium' sentiments and observations I have read or heard. Thank you for voicing my broken heart. Thank you for your compassion and pure love in the wake of the Pulse tragedy. Hugs!
rosemadderlake
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Delete duplicate post....
http://www.tucsonsentinel.com/local...sts-18-year-old-tucson-man-terrorism-charges/
Local for me. Wonder how many times this is happening across the country...
Local for me. Wonder how many times this is happening across the country...