Thanks to the efforts of a growing band of courageous investigators, a body of powerful, irrefutable evidence, gleaned from government documents and eye witness reports has been collected. This evidence indicates that the Port Arthur Massacre was conceived, planned , carried out and covered up by persons unknown, with the assistance of some elements of the Australian Government, Media, Police, Army and Intelligence Community. If we accept that the Port Arthur Massacre was a planned act to disarm the Australian people and we accept that Waco and Oklahoma City fall into the same category, it is evidence that powerful forces of evil are at work on this planet. If those forces are allowed to seize global control, it will bring a period of trauma for the Freedom Loving People of Earth that will make the holocaust look like a Sunday School picnic. I am talking about the elimination of all persons on this planet deemed to be surplus to requirements. If you think this a bit far fetched cast your mind back into recent history. Russia, under Stalin, 20 million dead, China under Mao, 80 million dead to name but two. Those of you who read this and are inclined to join us in the coming struggle should understand that it will not be easy and that your efforts may not be crowned with glory. I have included this poem which I have renamed "The Patriots Lament" to help you with that understanding.
Out of the night that covers me, I close this forward with the simple advice that I gave the assembled patriots at the famous Gympie Gun Meeting. DON’T GIVE UP YOUR FREEDOM, BECAUSE SOME DAY YOU MAY WANT IT BACK. IF YOU WANT IT BACK YOU WILL HAVE TO BUY IT BACK. YOU CAN ONLY BUY IT BACK WITH THE MOST EXPENSIVE CURRENCY IN THE WORLD. THE ONLY CURRENCY THAT YOU CAN BUY YOUR FREEDOM BACK WITH IS BLOOD
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be,
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced, nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloodied, but not unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me unaffraid.
It matters not how straight the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate;
I am the captain of my soul.