Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death

Remote ‘Kill Switch’ Added to Intel’s Newest Processor

December 14, 2010

Infowars.com - Lauded as a security feature, Intel’s new Sandy Bridge processor can be remotely disabled by a hardware/software combination known at Anti-Theft 3.0. Systems can be disabled over 3G networks, even while the OS is not running. Even when the hard drive is replaced, the critical systems will still be terminated.

At first this sounds great: if an owner loses a laptop it can be remotely disabled to ensure no sensitive data is compromised. But essentially we are giving up control of our computers and putting that control in another’s hands.

With the Patriot Act in place and and legislation like the ‘kill switch’ bill, many of the rights we took for granted are threatened. It is well within reason to fear this type of technology as it could be used as a means of control and censorship.

• The CIA recently created a ‘honeypot’ on a hijacked mirror site associated with Wikileaks and used it to identify people who download the sensitive data.


• University students have been warned not do download Wikileak’s documents under threat of being blacklisted from government jobs.


• Homegrown terrorism is the new buzz being cultivated by DHS and various other government agencies. In publications like MIAC report, authorities identify patriots as dangers and label them probable terrorists.


• Even Geraldo Rivera has begun to see through the thin veil of false flag terrorism, identifying patsies planted by the very agencies meant to protect us.

We have lost control of our government, and soon we will lose control over our own health. Constitutional rights are continually under attack, and we are losing the war. With PR spins like Intel’s, it is becoming increasingly difficult to keep things in perspective.

Patrick Henry: “Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death”

September 28, 2008

Whitewraithe - Who was Patrick Henry? And why do we remember his words?

To understand the man and the event, let’s go back in time.

The date is Thursday, March 23, 1775. The place: St. John’s Church in Richmond Virginia. The event: A meeting of Virginia’s colonial leaders at the Second Virginia Convention.

Henry was the delegate from Hanover County at the meeting to discuss the recent proceedings of America’s First Continental Congress. Peyton Randolph was President of the Convention attended by 120 delegates, including such notables as George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and Richard Henry Lee.

In fact, the meeting turned into a series of debates over whether or not to arm the colony of Virginia as a defense against possible incursions by the British army.

Henry’s reputation as a fiery and passionate orator preceded his appearance at the convention. Twelve years earlier, Henry, a prominent lawyer, won renown in arguing the Parson’s Cause at the Hanover County Courthouse. During that case he described the King as “a tyrant who forfeits the allegiance of his subjects.” Two years later, in 1765, his Virginia Stamp Act Resolutions before the House of Burgesses were met with angry cries of treason. Henry’s reply:

“If this be treason, make the most of it.”

At the end of the four-day meeting in Virginia, Patrick Henry rose to deliver his speech, facing his fellow delegates. He forcefully urged them to establish a defense of Virginia, arguing that the colony needed a “well regulated militia.” It was imperative, he declared, that Virginia be prepared to oppose King George III. He ended his impassioned speech for independence with the words:

“I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death.”

Many at the meeting were loathe to oppose the mother country, instead favoring conciliatory measures. But Henry’s stirring and persuasive call to arms won the day, and the delegates voted to support his resolutions.

Thomas Jefferson described Henry as the man who “set the ball of Revolution rolling” in Virginia. Patrick Henry’s immortal words have been described as “the most famous cry for freedom in the world.”

Patrick Henry was a lawyer, patriot, orator and a participant in every phase of America’s founding. But even more than that, Patrick Henry became a symbol of America’s struggle for liberty and self-government.

This is the complete text of Patrick Henry’s speech at St. John’s Church in Richmond, Virginia on March 23, 1775:

No man, Mr. President, thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism, as well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed the House. But different men often see the same subject in different lights; and, therefore, I hope it will not be thought disrespectful to those gentlemen if, entertaining as I do opinions of a character very opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth my sentiments freely and without reserve.

This is no time for ceremony. The question before the House is one of awful moment to this country. For my own part, I consider it as nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery; and in proportion to the magnitude of the subject ought to be the freedom of the debate. It is only in this way that we can hope to arrive at truth, and fulfill the great responsibility which we hold to God and our country. Should I keep back my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving offense, I should consider myself as guilty of treason towards my country, and of an act of disloyalty toward the Majesty of Heaven, which I revere above all earthly kings.

Mr. President, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and, having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it.

I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past. And judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves and the House. Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss.

Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled that force must be called in to win back our love?

Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation; the last arguments to which kings resort. I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign any other possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy, in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us: they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains which the British ministry have been so long forging.

And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find which have not been already exhausted?

Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves. Sir, we have done everything that could be done to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne! In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope.

If we wish to be free — if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending — if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained — we must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the God of hosts is all that is left us!

They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power.

The millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable — and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come.

It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace — but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!