Why Socalism Does Not Work Work In A Fallen World: My Talk With a Cuban


I had the privilege of praying for a husband and wife who not only recently arrived from Cuba, but who visited the island a week ago.

What the man told me confirmed what Ive always known

“Look, the Communist socialist system does not exist”, he said. “What you have are opportunistic people who have created a system that promises collective altruism but that really is a device to tyrannize people and enrich themselves as they subjugate the nation into poverty, by stealing from them, under their sham creation.”

The likes of Maduro, Chavez or the Castros are not socialists, neither are they communists. They are fat cat capitalists, the real opportunists, who have learned to dupe a nation into believing the lies of self-sacrificing socialism until they make the playing field so uneven, that the only ones who can play in it is them.

Socialism can only work when it leaders have impeccable character, and when their hearts are in the right place with the people whom they lead.

I have never seen this.

This can only occur in a world where the sinful nature of people is dealt with by the Lord Jesus Christ.

The socialism that we have in place is what this gentleman correctly called, the opportunism of opportunistic people.

Therefore, because we live in such in a fallen world, free market enterprise is the only system that will work until Jesus comes back.

In the free market system, you have the same corrupt opportunistic people. Yet everyone who wants to be opportunistic has the same opportunity.

Free market enterprise gives a level playing field to all opportunistic people who want to practice opportunism.

The so-called communist socialist model, only affords the playing field to the opportunists on the top.

If you look at our own American politicians who preach income inequality, big government, aid to all, and benefits to the poor, their vacations are grossly extravagant, their salaries are in the millions and their corruption stinks to the highest heavens. They are the biggest of opportunists, they are fat cat capitalists.

I say level the playing field for all opportunists, endorse free market enterprise, lest the few free market opportunists at the top endorsing phony socialism will starve and subjugate all of us into the extinction through land grabs, execution, torture and jails.

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A Tale Of Fidel and the Ice Cream.


I once heard a story about El Comandante Fidel Castro. This is how he indoctrinated young Cuban children.

His soldiers, named “milicianos’,  would visit Cuban elementary schools.

They would gather the children and ask them, “who of you believe in God?” Every little hand jettisoned to the air. “Who here loves ice cream?” . Even quicker than before, little arms shot up, giggles and wide eyes staring into soldiers’ faces.

“Well, close your eyes, bow your heads, and pray to God to bring you ice cream now!” Dutifully, little heads bowed down, as the children prayed in earnest.

“Now, open your eyes”, retorted a soldier. Of course, there was no ice cream.

“Now, pray to Fidel Castro, and ask him to bring you ice cream!” Little heads and hearts stooped once again. “Now open your eyes!” Every soldier held a sumptuous ice cream cone.

Postscript:

There are a few things which I remember from my homeland. We fled penniless when I was six. Castro nationalized both of my father’s businesses.

As we exited the Jose Marti Airport to come to Miami, Castro’s men called us worms.

I remember the bomb that went off at the Havana harbor when I was watched the Three Stooges at a movie theater.  We ran outside to see broken glass and the wailing of ambulance sirens.

I remember when Castro’s soldiers barged into our upper class home, and ransacked our drawers and closets.

I remember hearing stories of Castro having dump trucks collide into each other in the middle of the night, in my neighborhood, to frighten the wealthy.

I remember the great Cuban singer, Benny More, mercilessly beaten to death in a Cuban prison.

I remember my grandmother’s school, El Instituto Edison, one the finest in the nation, stolen from her.

I remember people making coffee from ground black beans.

I remember women as they fled Cuba being stripped search in their private parts for hidden jewelry.

I remember people still driving cars from the 1950’s.

I remember a nation that is silent, for it lives in terror of a government that will imprison, torture or kill its people, if it speaks out against it.

These socialists preach wealth distribution to all expect themselves. Every single one of them are millionaires.

Every single one of them successfully disarmed their nations through gun control while remaining armed to the hilt and quickly subjugated the country, through gun control.

For those of you in America who love Castro, or Che Guevera, who was a hyper racist, and cherish the utopic socialist dream, I pray that you won’t eat the wrong ice cream.

” How long to the point of know return?”


This vision came between 2009-2010.

This is the second vision that I have had about the demise of the American dollar just within a few days from the first one. I urge you to read the other vision, “Jaws and the American Dollar” in tandem with this vision

As I got on my knees to pray this morning, I saw the pyramid with the eye on the back of the one dollar bill, turned sideways. In other words,  I looked at the pyramid not from the front as is depicted on the dollar bill. I was seeing it from its left side. The eye had come out of the pyramid and was un attached. It was by itself suspended in midair looking down at a road. I then saw many pyramids as far as the eye could see on a landscape that was being traversed by this road. The landscape was the USA. The eye that had once been in the USA dollar bill pyramid had given to it life. Anything that has an open eye must have life within it. Now these pyramids had no eyes. They had all become mausoleums or graves. The Lord suddenly then reminded me that pyramids had been used as graves in Egypt!

The vision then changed and I saw myself inside one of these pyramids, just like Indiana Jones, and the coffin of King Tutankhamen which was in one of its grave chambers, now in front of me.

I took an iron chisel and a hammer and broke open the golden coffin. Inside were bundles of dollar bills now for the most part worthless.

Our living pyramid on the back of the dollar bill now had become a dead and lifeless one holding within its grave chambers the coffins of the dead dollars.

It is no doubt that God is warning us, that the time to wake up and repent is already here and is passing us by. If we let it pass us by, it might be too late.

As the great rock and roll group of the 1970’s Kansas once sang …”The Point of No (Know) Return.” Are we getting to the point of no return? It’s funny that the song rang through my mind as I was writing this blog.

I have seen America in the spirit, get to the poverty level that one of my beloved nations, Kenya is presently in. It was poverty that woke up Kenya and has brought it to revival. I suspect that America is on the same path.

If we repent now, God will heal our land. If we don’t, only God knows. I am not the only one prophesying about the demise of the dollar bill. Others such as Larry Randolph, John Paul Jackson and Chuck Pierce are also saying it too.

The Lord ended the vision today with the following scripture.

Rev 6: 5 When the Lamb broke the third seal, I heard the third living creature say, “Come.” I looked, and a black horse appeared, its rider carrying a balance in his hand.

6 And I heard what seemed to be a voice speaking in the midst of the four living creatures, and saying, “A quart of wheat for a shilling, and three quarts of barley for a shilling; but do not injure either the oil or the wine.”

Verse six is simply a definition of hyperinflation.

To finish, here is a lyrical verse from “The Point of Know Return” by one of my favorite rock and roll groups, Kansas.

They say the sea turns so dark that You know it’s time, you see the sign They say the point demons guard is An ocean grave, for all the brave, Was it you that said, “How long, how long, How long to the point of know return

I wanted to add to the original vision posted over a year ago.

Last week I had another vision of America.

In this vision, an underwater statue of Jesus Christ, as the one at John Penny camp Park in the Florida Keys, lifelessly sank to the bottom of the ocean floor and toppled over upon the sandy bottom.

At the same time an American dollar bill sank along with it. I was really alarmed because it seemed as if Christianity had totally died in America. All of a sudden Jesus, not as a statue, but as a living human being, emerged from the waters and walked unto the shore. He was holding the dollar bill in his hand. The bill appeared smaller than usual, more ineffective and was now in the control of Jesus’s hand. Somehow things in America had come into a more correct perspective.  Out of this financial drowning where the dollar can no longer breathe and becomes unconscious, our hearts will come to be more on Jesus and not upon the idolatry of money and entertainment. Or at least it will be Jesus who will be bringing this nation back to a right perspective. I feel that a humbling is coming to us where our priorities will be certainly better.

“How long, how long, How long to the point of know return?”

” How long to the point of know return?”


This vision came between 2009-2010.

This is the second vision that I have had about the demise of the American dollar just within a few days from the first one. I urge you to read the other vision, “Jaws and the American Dollar” in tandem with this vision

As I got on my knees to pray this morning, I saw the pyramid with the eye on the back of the one dollar bill, turned sideways. In other words,  I looked at the pyramid not from the front as is depicted on the dollar bill. I was seeing it from its left side. The eye had come out of the pyramid and was un attached. It was by itself suspended in midair looking down at a road. I then saw many pyramids as far as the eye could see on a landscape that was being traversed by this road. The landscape was the USA. The eye that had once been in the USA dollar bill pyramid had given to it life. Anything that has an open eye must have life within it. Now these pyramids had no eyes. They had all become mausoleums or graves. The Lord suddenly then reminded me that pyramids had been used as graves in Egypt!

The vision then changed and I saw myself inside one of these pyramids, just like Indiana Jones, and the coffin of King Tutankhamen which was in one of its grave chambers, now in front of me.

I took an iron chisel and a hammer and broke open the golden coffin. Inside were bundles of dollar bills now for the most part worthless.

Our living pyramid on the back of the dollar bill now had become a dead and lifeless one holding within its grave chambers the coffins of the dead dollars.

It is no doubt that God is warning us, that the time to wake up and repent is already here and is passing us by. If we let it pass us by, it might be too late.

As the great rock and roll group of the 1970’s Kansas once sang …”The Point of No (Know) Return.” Are we getting to the point of no return? It’s funny that the song rang through my mind as I was writing this blog.

I have seen America in the spirit, get to the poverty level that one of my beloved nations, Kenya is presently in. It was poverty that woke up Kenya and has brought it to revival. I suspect that America is on the same path.

If we repent now, God will heal our land. If we don’t, only God knows. I am not the only one prophesying about the demise of the dollar bill. Others such as Larry Randolph, John Paul Jackson and Chuck Pierce are also saying it too.

The Lord ended the vision today with the following scripture.

Rev 6: 5 When the Lamb broke the third seal, I heard the third living creature say, “Come.” I looked, and a black horse appeared, its rider carrying a balance in his hand.

6 And I heard what seemed to be a voice speaking in the midst of the four living creatures, and saying, “A quart of wheat for a shilling, and three quarts of barley for a shilling; but do not injure either the oil or the wine.”

Verse six is simply a definition of hyperinflation.

To finish, here is a lyrical verse from “The Point of Know Return” by one of my favorite rock and roll groups, Kansas.

They say the sea turns so dark that You know it’s time, you see the sign They say the point demons guard is An ocean grave, for all the brave, Was it you that said, “How long, how long, How long to the point of know return

I wanted to add to the original vision posted over a year ago.

Last week I had another vision of America.

In this vision, an underwater statue of Jesus Christ, as the one at John Penny camp Park in the Florida Keys, lifelessly sank to the bottom of the ocean floor and toppled over upon the sandy bottom.

At the same time an American dollar bill sank along with it. I was really alarmed because it seemed as if Christianity had totally died in America. All of a sudden Jesus, not as a statue, but as a living human being, emerged from the waters and walked unto the shore. He was holding the dollar bill in his hand. The bill appeared smaller than usual, more ineffective and was now in the control of Jesus’s hand. Somehow things in America had come into a more correct perspective.  Out of this financial drowning where the dollar can no longer breathe and becomes unconscious, our hearts will come to be more on Jesus and not upon the idolatry of money and entertainment. Or at least it will be Jesus who will be bringing this nation back to a right perspective. I feel that a humbling is coming to us where our priorities will be certainly better.

“How long, how long, How long to the point of know return?”

A Tale Of Fidel and the Ice Cream.


I once heard a story about El Comandante Fidel Castro. This is how he indoctrinated young Cuban children.

His soldiers, named “milicianos’,  would visit Cuban elementary schools.

They would gather the children and ask them, “who of you believe in God?” Every little hand jettisoned to the air. “Who here loves ice cream?” . Even quicker than before, little arms shot up, giggles and wide eyes staring into soldiers’ faces.

“Well, close your eyes, bow your heads, and pray to God to bring you ice cream now!” Dutifully, little heads bowed down, as the children prayed in earnest.

“Now, open your eyes”, retorted a soldier. Of course, there was no ice cream.

“Now, pray to Fidel Castro, and ask him to bring you ice cream!” Little heads and hearts stooped once again. “Now open your eyes!” Every soldier held a sumptuous ice cream cone.

Postscript:

There are a few things which I remember from my homeland. We fled penniless when I was six. Castro nationalized both of my father’s businesses.

As we exited the Jose Marti Airport to come to Miami, Castro’s men called us worms.

I remember the bomb that went off at the Havana harbor when I was watched the Three Stooges at a movie theater.  We ran outside to see broken glass and the wailing of ambulance sirens.

I remember when Castro’s soldiers barged into our upper class home, and ransacked our drawers and closets.

I remember hearing stories of Castro having dump trucks collide into each other in the middle of the night, in my neighborhood, to frighten the wealthy.

I remember the great Cuban singer, Benny More, mercilessly beaten to death in a Cuban prison.

I remember my grandmother’s school, El Instituto Edison, one the finest in the nation, stolen from her.

I remember people making coffee from ground black beans.

I remember women as they fled Cuba being stripped search in their private parts for hidden jewelry.

I remember people still driving cars from the 1950’s.

I remember a nation that is silent, for it lives in terror of a government that will imprison, torture or kill its people, if it speaks out against it.

These socialists preach wealth distribution to all expect themselves. Every single one of them are millionaires.

Every single one of them successfully disarmed their nations through gun control while remaining armed to the hilt and quickly subjugated the country, through gun control.

For those of you in America who love Castro, or Che Guevera, who was a hyper racist, and cherish the utopic socialist dream, I pray that you won’t eat the wrong ice cream.