The (living) Death Eaters[1]- a diatribe  and tribute to Memorial Day[2]

There is a culture of G-d’s children

Trained to eat death as a steady diet.

They have to, until now – their hearts are ripped out. This is and they are, the definition of cor-ruption. They are the world’s true vampires.

Sometimes, quickly, sometimes, slowly – but always with perseverance; their hearts bleed from teachings of those in their life – including their family, friends, schools, businesses, and sadly (and especially) their synagogues, mosques, and churches.

(The last three- calling themselves “houses of G-d”, are the most diabolical.)

Of course to replenish themselves they take from everyone else; you’ll see they never give. Unlike my candle flame family, they are cold instead. They are a classic story of how “we reap what we sow”.

You can tell a death eater by their pallor (even in those with darker tones); most of them are fair-skinned. You see they don’t get outside much- they believe work is life. They’re grim. There is a loss of blood’s saturation (recall blood carries our Chi energy). In them blood doesn’t feed their heart.  Their inner radiance is quenched.

 (Though they can be very well tanned – they can stay in the sun for a very long time –as they’re unable to be warmed up.)

Starting young, death eater children are born into families where fear rules the roost. There is constant talk of how others ‘ruin life’ for them and few words of gratitude.

Here violence and threats help dad “stand his ground” (they’re always afraid of change – worried the carpet might shift from under them- instead of believing in Him.

Oh yes, and there are usually guns too as constant reminder of deadly force that can easily snuff life out- including their own.

The TV or radio is usually on- so conversations are taboo. At least one individual, sits alone behind a closed door. Not to get into his groove by creating beauty with his (or her) hands, to sequester in their own spewing of vomitus (even if it’s just porn they’re reading).

Starting at a young age, death eater children are forced to leave home. Forced as in, the parent will be arrested otherwise – if they refuse to send a child to school. Sure some children, like me, love school (my family was a death eater too), but most do not I can assure you!

With this act, the very young child is ripped away from mother[3] and placed among non-familiars.

Of course this transition is “easier”, if all the kids look similar; by six they’ve been well trained on the familiar versus “strange”. Any child of three or four can tell you now, a “stranger” means “danger”. They know when mom shies away!

If the new environment has lots of “strangers”, people who look different from his or family in the mirror, now the child is immersed in “danger”.

Taught now, that “stranger means danger”- you might imagine curiosity is nipped. Can you imagine what would happen- if you explored life with one of “these” “different” individuals?

How many times did I get reminded, “Curiosity killed the cat.”? Plenty, I assure you!

(Cats are surrogate for our ego’s pride and our will (as opposed to dogs which stand for ego’s obedience and love). Our pride drives us to use our will as we make our choices in life).

Instead, you are most comfortable doing what your peers think is interesting and important. Our peers teach us who to look, act and sound like. We learn from them mostly. I feel sorry for folks who think otherwise.


In death eater schools, children are taught right away about how to fit in -how to be very small and silent staying arrayed at one’s desk, as well as not to be too dumb or too smart – lest a bully pick on you.

A bully can be a big grinning (usually tall and blond) lug who aches to put a fist to your mouth, or she might wear a wimple carrying her ruler. Or she’s the catty popular one who is prima donna and backstabber. Nowadays, it might even be a policeman. (Really I should spell this po’ lice man- they’re lice sucking off poor ones.)

In school, they learn the “A,B,C’s”, how to read (for tests – not information), and about numbers and their properties. Later (and only in some schools) they learn “science” is what is measured and how a hypothesis strips a thing completely out of context.  

In history (really “his-story”, meaning of the conqueror; until recently, women weren’t educated; so how could they write them!) kids learn about “Indians”, “slaves” (and as if there really need be such a thing)[4] , and how war is necessary to keep the status quo.

(With that approach, they get the vocabulary of predator and victim – and how there are even more “others” – better worse and different from themselves.)

In religious schools especially, with everything done in “His” name (whatever that is), most parent’s relinquish control. (If it’s done in “His” name, they’d better comply.)

[If I ran the government, you can be sure I’d defund them (and make them pay taxes too.)]

Polarization is truly awesome (I’m being sarcastic). Especially when used to justify a need to “divide and conquer”- typical British strategy. I say British, because they are the ringleaders. Look at any episode of civilian unrest – you’ll find a white rabblerouser.

It is or was also their women who revere pallor to such an extent they applied leeches to themselves- in addition to having anemia after heroic childbirths and menstruation. They today, set our West Worlds’ standard of beauty.

(Thank goodness they have other pallor-inducing conditions they can rely on- in addition to pancake makeup, and don’t need their actual leeches anymore.)


While schools reinforce the idea that only the tangible is true, home values – as in portrayed by the choice of media- does the heavy lifting. Here a typical home with its mass-market soft porn and graphic brutality not-so-subconsciously focuses stigma.

The “good” guys are nearly always “lighter” than the bad guys or speak with some version of heavy accent. You know, they’re the “strangers”. This deepens fear of “others”.

Now even women can be bad-assed toting weapons – they used to just be cheerleaders. Teaches a kid we can’t even trust a mom.

One could say the death eaters are the embodiment of hungry (angry) ghost. They can’t feel better unless they drain someone. (So when you scuttle away wounded, know they are laughing at you (and thanks to your whiney cries, now re-invigorated).


The death eaters glorify when the inner child sits still, but has a mouth wide open.

Being still lets them aim their shovels more surely as they feed you their shit. Maybe called appetizers- food, and ideas, so broken down, they’re already ghost-like. They use hot peppers instead.

If not for adulterants- chemical flavors and color, it’s blah and ~more toxin than nutrient).

Being still means they’re in conformity- by both school’s and parent’s “boxes” definition of what they should do, look, and be like.

Until a child can leave, which these days seems even more rare, it is the parent’s job to “care” for them- so they better comply.

With all that complying, the death eater child gets cramped up. While they’ve learned to keep it together at school, maybe home is safe enough to melt down. If not the kid’s put in ‘time out’ now in isolation and seclusion; maybe they’re sent to their rooms.

Becoming cramped happens despite the brief (and often intense or stressful) exercise class called “physical education”. In our school exercise meant being on sport teams, not actual stretching or calisthenics. These strange physical engagements, with their locker room politics, really don’t help- more add to Psych’s confusion (at least for a nerdy kid like me – I hated PE).

Returning home, the death eater child may seem anxious- so they are given a “feel good” remedy (instead of a hug). Maybe mom makes him cookies or cakes. Now they get fat too.

When Dad gets home he gets a drink (or two). Behind closed doors, mom has her ‘helpers’ too- usually tranquilizers and antidepressants from the “doctor”. Though I hear pain meds are in vogue and stimulants are popular.

(Did you know a kid really does know – They can sense when their close hu(e)-men’s change their state- even if you don’t tell them!? And without a word being spoken.)

Sure there are teetotalers – they’re addicted to plenty of stuff like control, shopping, gluttony, even gossiping or maybe their waistline size. They are no different – maybe worse with their “I’m better than…”, like dry drunks.

By the time a death eater child leaves home (if they ever do), they know exactly what to do with their children – and how to keep them in their social cloisters.


I’d wager the vast majority of American’s in particular are addicted to death.

Did you know even focusing on a black cube or horizontal rectangle, such as computer or TV screen, is ~the same thing? Our soma knows nothing in natural living life is similarly shaped unless it is death-based like crystals black shorl and similar (Shorl is a black version of tourmaline – a stone made from lava’s fire).

As death in particular is America’s focus, it is no surprise that many folks in addition to working soul crushing jobs and going to soul sucking schools, they go to worship in buildings adorned with a dead bleeding man – the punished one for being “THE” son of G-d, Jesus that is.

 If you were speaking Spanish (so-called language of G-d) you would pronounce Jesus as ‘He-sus’- can then be He-(i)s-us). I assure you He lives in many communities today- but you rarely find Him in any house that man has built.

So for our “Christian” friends, they have his torture for a weekly reminder. What do you think a sensitive kid thinks, lets alone feels, about this? It is such a shame to beat spirit down and yet we do it- and pay too for the pleasure. May it be so they replace Him with the Pietà.

In addition, our nation celebrates several holidays that continue in the same vein (and are great excuses for gluttony and debauchery).

For example, let’s take a look shall we, and go through our calendar,?

First, in January, we have dead President’s Day – used to be Washington – a leader who chose to cut down the cherry tree, instead of just picking them. (So he’s destroys nature – but it’ OK, he isn’t not lying about it.)

Then we have murdered Dr. King day (frankly I wish it were Malcolm X’s- he had much more helpful and useful messages) but Dr. King was white man’s patsy, extolling his dreams and nonviolence. His story always (ultimately) crowns “Black History” month.

February brings us murdered St. Valentine – the saint who, along with widowed women, healed with hands and love’s twin flames.  And as this was felt to be a threat to ~ all those in power, the Catholic’s developed their catechisms to reflect exactly opposite! For St. Valentine’s Day we send roses (from another continent) and eat lead and cadmium-laced chocolates picked by children in Africa (more death resonance; they’re often in forced servitude).

Skip March (maybe they should celebrate my birthday, “March fo(u)rth”, but then March is time for fasting, so nope, they’re no holidays.)

In April, there’s Easter (preceded by 40 days of fasting and so-called “Holy Week” starting with Palm Sunday when Christians get to reenact every year his torture and crucifixion. This is to celebrate when murdered Jesus-is-risen to the sky, not His erection. (The church wouldn’t want anyone to celebrate spring like the birds and the bees, you know, fornicating.)

In May we have Mother’s and Memorial Day. Ok Mother’s day is OK. I’ll give you that one- but I don’t need flowers sent to me from Chili.

Memorial Day is for all those dead by (unnecessary) wars celebrated with parades and streaming flags. You might even start crying about young men who should have stayed home on their farms. (Never do the rich ones go.)

June, again NADA, but then the days are at their longest; it’s hard to argue with success. Folks are partying more, already getting ready for SUMMER! The beverage industry is replete. Dr’s start whining- they’re not busy enough (except the allergist with his “allergy” shots).

In July we get to re-enact bombing and destruction with fiery explosions that leave lots of shrapnel. Once in a while you even get hands blown off (and ERs get filled with lots of trauma codes.) Here is where again war is glorified; Independence Day has nothing to do with freedom but we wrap ourselves (and our pets and children) in a fearful din.

In August is Labor Day, which could be nice, but just the sound of it makes me tired. Having been in labor myself, it reminds me of feeling heavy for months followed by one long pain- and then near endless worry.

That, and it symbolizes the end of Summer –and time for dark and foreboding seasons to begin again. So workers wipe your smiles off!

September comes and goes without anything but stress – from going back to school mostly and traffic becomes unbearable again. There is no holiday for that, no matter how hard we try. The drink and drug industry breathes a great sigh.

October brings us Columbus day-though this is mostly federal -meaning is celebrated by our Congress, the Courts, Banks, Post Office and military – but few others (notice the priority).   Lol, look what Columbus did, he ripped the indigenous man from his life and then he took it. (No mistake it would be so important to those folks.)

November brings us more war glorification with Veteran’s Day; this really brings out the old-timers. They stand wheezing waving their flags.

Thanksgiving, which use to be my favorite really is but an excuse for gluttony (and is based on how whites reciprocated the indigenous man’s hospitality with theft and home-invasions.)

I guess that leaves Christmas, which is taken over by Hallmark and shopping gluttony.

Shucks, if I celebrated half of these (especially the weekly Sunday ones), I’d be a death eater too. But then, as I am you too, I know this is my projection.

I like to celebrate Diwali, Shavuot, and Buddha’s birthday and am working on others. I’m glad I get to pick –since I’m not forced to work anymore.

May it go well for you. Maybe I’ll get to sleep tonight.

[1] This essay I wrote at 3AM; until I penned it, I couldn’t sleep. I figured if it was that important to write, I may as well share it.

[2] I’m writing this in homage to Martin Amis a caustic writer who just died this week- lest the world think he was one-of-a-kind.

[3] Granted many children are in daycare long before this since so many moms work “important” jobs. So for them, this is ‘just another’ transition. Their scars run even deeper.

[4] One could if one wished to, reframe our road’s stories of diaspora –especially leading to becoming “melting pot”. Those early diaspora (long before the slave traders returned bearing riches and arms), didn’t “just happen” magically because of some super (happy) pioneers or merry pied piper.

 “Slavery” as defined when whites use blacks, or Egyptians use Jews, or Jews use Palestinians, or Indians use anyone darker toned, or men use women, to forcibly labor for ~no pay and (emotional, mental, or physical) beatings. Written slave stories are many, many, many chapters later and testimony to the power of ‘you reap what you sow’. Stories of slavery stem from older stories themselves long lost – from when the shoe was on the other foot.

Furthermore we still today have slaves, technically indentured servants.  What else do you call those “pets” you keep or animals in a zoo? They are not free to leave and are domestic servants living lives no animal would chose.

By Dr. Jen Wyman-Clemons, MD

Dr. Wyman-Clemons treats the body, mind, emotions as well as spiritual wellness using tools described by established teachers and authors and her own experiences as she experiences an ongoing sense of (loving) energetic intrusion (possession) since 2019. She has ~thirty years of clinical experience as an allergy and internal medicine physician (ABAI, ABIM) has completed requirements to practice as a yoga teacher, USUI Reiki Master, and astrologer.

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