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Did you find it to download it? I can't find it anywhere either, can't download the myspace one. Free watch she's missing 2. Free watch she's missing youtube. Free watch she's missing online. This doesnt look interesting at all. Free watch she's missing song. (part 1 of 3 - see links at bottom) (Note from the author) Its not my intention to convince or coerce anyone into believing or accepting my particular perspectives on any given subject. I'm simply inviting you to ride along, if you wish to, upon my pursuit of the process of truth discovery. Please make the effort to delve deeply into the sourced material and interpret it for yourself. In compiling this article, composed of sourced quotes and excerpts, I am endeavoring to offer a compilation of illuminating observations, opinions, and reports ? in a comprehensive and informative arrangement of many revealing puzzle pieces. Often times, things are easier to make sense of and understand when we assemble the related pieces and begin to grasp the bigger picture. I've posted this article in anticipation that you, dear reader, might engage in an opportunity to evoke an eye-opening glimpse into the enigmatic and secretive underworld of Sokagakkai's cult leader Daisaku Ikeda, and his protracted surreptitious involvement with yakuza crime organizations, political corruption, illegal drug profiteering, int'l money-laundering, bribery of government officials, North Korea, Bush's CIA, and more. SGI members, along with the media and public, are kept as clueless as possible regarding Ikeda's underworld criminal activities. Both Ikeda's followers and detractors would probably be surprised to learn that Ikeda Daisaku's Korean birth name is Naru Tasaku. It is my hope that you will examine everything you encounter with a questioning mind, conduct your own extensive investigations into all topics and subject contents, and practice utilizing your critical thinking skills to draw your own conclusions. YAKUZA BACKGROUND Italy has the La Cosa Nostra. America has the Mafia. The Irish and Jews have their own crime organizations in America. Southeast Asia has the Triads. China, Hong Kong and Taiwan have the Tong. Truly well-known organized crime organizations indeed. However, there is one organization that was not mentioned in the above list, a group that has been around for over 300 years. A group that has as much honor and principle as the Mafia, and is just as strong, if not stronger. The group is yakuza. The yakuza can trace its origins back to as early as 1612. The yakuza has always been involved in politics and business right from the start. The groups are always hungry for more power and money, wherever they can find it. The [post-war] occupation forces soon saw that the yakuza was well organized and continuing to operate under two oyabun supported by unidentified high-level goverment officials. They admitted defeat in 1950, as they realized that they could not protect the Japanese people from the yakuza. The Yamaguchi-gumi controlled over 2500 businesses, sophisticated gambling and loan-sharking, and invested heavily in sports and other entertainment... The Yamaguchi-gumi began to **deal in narcotics now, primarily amphetamines [speed]*. Other fields of choice brought in high capital: moneylending, smuggling... money laundering is not a crime in Japan, so the investigations into the money angles of the yakuza will be extremely difficult. (Yakuza: Past and Present]() yakuza: traditional term for Japanese mobsters. Literally ‘8-9-3’, the hand that will lead to a score of 0 in a traditional Japanese card game. Originates from their original role as gamblers, bakuto, in feudal japan. bakuto: gambler. Often considered the origin of the yakuza, as groups of gamblers who traversed the highways of feudal japan. Finger-cutting, tattoing, and the yakuza’s policy of cooperation with the police are practices that were started by the bakuto. Yakuza Buisnesses kakuseizai: speed, amphetamines, meth. The drug of choice in Japan and the trade that has proved more lucrative for the yakuza than even the sex industry. Possibly accounts for up to one-third of total revenue. Virtually the entire business in Japan is run by the yakuza. kigyo shatei: the yakuza associate running a front company. A front company is a fake company set up by the yakuza to appear legitimate and have access to the privileges of running a legitimate operation, while actually engaging in illegal activities/businesses. sara-kin: Short for ‘salary man financiers’. Loan sharks, often with yakuza ties, who lend out at extraordinarily high interest rates. In 1982, about 10, 000 borrowers who were not able to their loan back either committed suicide or simply fled their families. yamikin: illegal loan sharks. Typically dole out ultra-high interest loans to those who can’t get a loan legally. Short for yamikinyu. Yakuza Terminology Financial crime in Japan takes a major toll on both individual victims and the nation’s economy. This paper focuses on large investment frauds that have occurred from post-war Japan to the present, as well as financial crimes that involve racketeers of boryokudans, or organized crime groups, more commonly known as yakuza. Major financial offending by organized crime groups include: yamikin (loan sharks), sokaiya (shareholders who extort corporate funds),... Big Investment Fraud and “Yakuza Money” Crime IKEDA, POWER POLITICS, CIA, & DRUGS The Jews’ control of the international illicit drug trade can be traced largely to Rothschild marriages to the Jewish merchant banking House of Sassoon, which had dominated trade in opium while it still had a measure of respect as a commodity in the nineteenth century. For that left certain members of the Rothschild family free to build on the initiatives of David Sassoon & Co., and ultimately dominate the lucrative opiate narcotic trade through to the present day. Rothschild dominance in opium was largely guaranteed by the financial power and military might of the British East India Company, while trade in the commodity was both legal and illegal. In fact the CIA was created by ‘British’ intelligence in 1947, and global illicit drug trafficking is largely controlled by the Jews’ assets and dupes in MI6, because its roots are in the opium exploits of the Rothschild/Sassoon controlled British East India Company. The Sassoons established branches of their opium business at Calcutta, Shanghai, Canton, Hong Kong, and THROUGHOUT JAPAN. Yakuza Buisnesses The global illicit drug trade is now thought to be worth at least £500 billion annually, which means it’s worth more than trade in oil and petroleum products. George H. W. Bush was a director of the Jew controlled CIA, and nicknamed “Poppy” by his family because of his patriarchal status and association with the opium smuggling that can be traced to founders of Yale’s Skull and Bones society. The George H. Bush family has been called the “American cocaine cartel extraordinaire”, because of his links with drug smuggling in Indo-China after the Vietnam War, and with drug-runners like Dr Sun Myung Moon and other ethnic Korean cult leaders like Daisaku Ikeda of Soka Gakkai notoriety, who invest followers’ funds in narcotics and methamphetamine distributed by Jew controlled drug lords from North Korea to Japan, the United States, and South America. Associates of George H. Bush in the narcotics trade have included Ariel Sharon and David Rockefeller, who worked with the CIA and Mossad to smuggle narcotics via oil pipelines, and used banks in Israel and New York to launder the proceeds... * Opium production in Afghanistan was revived after the Bush administration had demolished the World Trade Center to provide a pretext for the invasion of Afghanistan by the U. S. military on behalf of Bush’s opium cartel associates. Hamid Karzai was put in power in Afghanistan by President Bush; and in 2006 Karzai’s Afghan friends produced the biggest narco-crop in the country’s history... Afghanistan now produces 90 percent of the world’s heroin and the opium that’s the raw material of roughly half of the £500 billion global drug trade. The "Pusher Man" Is A Jew Conspiracy Stupid! Admiral William Crowe was a career Naval officer who when he was ordered to facilitate the relationship between the CIA's Panamanian Drug Cartel Dealer Manuel Noriega and the CIA's favorite Japanese political would be god and yakuza hoodlum, Daisaku Ikeda, Crowe did so in Hawaii in 1985 at a supposed culture festival held then and there by the Soka Gakkai. We know this meeting with Noriega took place - Ikeda had it commemorated in photos. There have been other sites documenting the Soka Gakkai's involvement with Manuel Noriega - how the Soka Gakkai funneled money to Manuel Noriega and attempted to legitimize his dictatorship in exchange for a share of Noriega's cocaine business. [reader's comment] You know, I've tried to find a copy of Noriega's deposition online, and I just tried again. Lots of references to the FBI, NSA and CIA, so I suspect that FOIA wouldn't apply here for security reasons. Of course, no one would want the world to know how complicity the federal government was in his successful career. More rumors about Soka Gakkai's yakuza ties - and CIA patronage - re: strongman military dictator of Panama Manuel Noriega There is an epidemic of cocaine, heroin, and other drug use in America, and many other drugs are being shipped into the US in greater numbers than ever before. 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It’s dark as pitch. Neighbourhood's wakin' up soon and I ain’t yet done flyerin’. Anyone sees me and they’ll know I’s the one dumpin’ all them papers on their doors. Then they chuck’em without even looking and I hear it from the boss, no one bought nothing. I just got that look about me, you know? The look that says this guy ain’t worth your business, he ain’t but trouble. It’s hard to fill a plate when your good side’s your backside. What flyer’s we givin’ out today? A goblin with spiked hair and a needle grin wants you to lose weight. “When losing wins! ” he says, lookin’ the schemer. The address and phone number of an exercise gym is below. The trick is to slip in the flyer alongside the morning newspaper. Then it falls out when Pa sits’im down at the table with his reading glasses on, ready to learn ‘bout the world. “What’s this? ” he says. Reads it then turns to Ma. “How’s that gym working out for you, anyways? You don’t seem to ever go. This one looks easier to get to. ” He forgets. She forgets. Then on his way home he sees the big gym sign on the roadway and thinks it worth the look-at, just to see. He might even bring the flyer with him when he goes inside. Might even give it to the girl who greets him at the desk. We get a bonus for what the boss call, “income spikes” cause if we flyer real good then the business bumps up in its clientele. I won it four times already and every time it flew right into the cash register of the Cadillac Lounge, and I flew my way home not long after, too broke to ride the bus, even. But why the goblin? I don’t want no pixies ticklin’ my ankles when hefting the iron. Whoever seen a goblin do exercise? It ain’t right. I look him right in the eye, focusing deep. My eyes narrow, but his twinkle. Can paper twinkle? I flip them flyers upside down in my satchel. He can look at the dirt all I care. He ain’t gotta see me. Jump the hedge, climb the stairs, flyer the door, leap down, cross the lawn. Yeah. “When losing wins ”. I been losing long enough. Losing don’t ever win, but let the gym goblin figure that one out. Jump the hedge, climb the stairs, flyer the... There’s a flyer already. Same flyer as I got. I ain’t been here yet, I know I ain’t. Been doing this so long I can draw this town’s streets blind, with water, with smoke even, and there’s no way this side of Louisville I cross my own path. I can see with my mind’s eye the streets I done tonight and it ain’t this one. But it’s different somehow. Just a bit. The grin’s sharper. The hair spikes spread out, like a fan. He’s got an earring. I see the flyer I got with me, and now it’s changed too. That grin, like he gettin’ every tooth ready. I don’t know this house, but they ain’t need none of my service. I back out and cross the lawn to the next one. But this one’s got one, too, before I even been here. And this time the ears is sharp and he’s sorta green, like the green from a bruise, a bruise that covers all the goblin face. And why ain’t the sky brightenin’ already? I nearly finish my stack and it’s still dark as sin. The longest night, longer than winter. Ain’t no cars, no wind, no trees shaking or crickets chirping. No moon, no clouds. How’s that even a thing, that there ain’t moon or clouds? Maybe they’s a clock inside that I can spot from the window. People keep’em in their living rooms, and this one’s got a living room right beside the front entrance. That’s what I’m thinkin’, so I lean hard against the door to see inside. No one’s about, but no clocks either. And the door pushes. I pull back right away, but I already gone and done it. The door opens bigger and it won’t stop, like it’s falling downhill or something. A blast of warm air from the house. I been out so long I ain’t even know I was cold, but this feels so nice, and why’s it smell like the Cadillac Lounge? Man, a good drink would end this night the right way… But the house is a wreck. Newspaper, broken dishes, vinyl records, baby formula. There’s one light on, just one, and it’s in the cellar. Now I know I ain’t supposed to go in, but I do. And I know I ain’t supposed to go down the stairs, but I do. And I know that door at the end of them stairs, the heavy door with iron that all the light was shining from, shoulda stayed closed, but it was so warm, and I could smell it: my friends, my family, the one in them bottles. I tried to kill myself once. Suicide. It was all done and I meant to, but couldn’t figure out how to go ‘bout it. I know you’s supposed to jump from a bridge, but we ain’t got no high-up bridges around here and I ain’t the worst swimmer anyway, so I got me two bottles, one with pills and the other Jack Daniels. But then I woke up all the same, next afternoon. Pill bottle’s empty. Jack Daniels sure as hell empty. I ain’t the only one with no stomach for death, but my’s the only stomach that’s too strong. I push the door. It’s so heavy! I’m in the Cadillac Lounge, and it’s in this cellar, and it’s the Cadillac Lounge, but it ain’t the Cadillac Lounge. Man, if it don’t sing to me the same! There’s people about, but no one’s drinking. They’s slumped passed dead into the tables. Other’s are watching, staring, like they’s expectin’ a cowboy wild west showdown. And they ain’t people. Not really. They looks’em like people, but looks’em like other things too. One table’s got a troupe of garden gnomes. Another’s a big insect, still a person, with all them hair and nose and such, and I see’im thinking like one, but he got ball eyes and arms bent all crooked-bout. “Shut the door! ” calls the one tending bar, but I can’t see anyone back there. He sounds serious, so I turn back to obey, but the door hears’im too and wafts shut all on its own. Ain’t no leaving now, not that I mind. Always knew the bar as my better home anyway. “What’s yer poison? ” I stare. It’s the goblin, the one from the flyer. He’s wiping a glass dry, too short to see over the counter. “Whiskey. Dry. ” “We got stuff for your kind, but not the dry. Just the whiskey. ” “Serves me. That’s the one I wanted most, all the same. ” A bowl of withered peanuts. I reach. “Woah, pal! ” The bartender scoops the tray away from me. “Them’s for us! Not you! Not your kind. ” “Whatcha saying, my kind? ” The bartender gestures to a table of gnarly oafs. “We’s the only ones can withstand the flames of hell. You still have life to burn. ” It’s an insult, but a strange one. I ain’t got no response to someone who say I can’t be in hell. I ain’t never want to be there to begin with, but he’s wrong. I been in hell, and it burns. It burned me inside to out. “I know you. I seen you. You got a gym or something. ” “We all have our place in life, ” the bartender sneers. “And death. ” “ You got me here! It was you, I know it! You the one here paid me to hand out them flyers! See? I got’em right here! ” “My what?! No mate. Nothing from above. I can’t touch it. ” “Look. See? You’re right there. ” “Get it gone! ” he shrieks, like his flyers be the light of Jesus sent to shrivel his green ass. “I don’t know you, man, ” the bartender scowls. He’s breathin’ real heavy. “You don’t belong here. ” Then he moves all hateful to the other end of the bar. Fine with me, goblin-green hell-soul sonofabitch. I look at them other patrons, try to figure ’em out. They ain’t movin’, ain’t talkin’, but once in a while one of ‘em snaps at another. They ain’t no friends here, just gangs. A minute later (or was it a year? ) the bartender’s back. “You gamble, mate? ” “Whatchasayin’? ” “Gamble? You a gambler? ” “Like horsetrack? ” “Hold ‘em. Texas. ” “I do hold ‘em. ” “You good? ” “I do hold ‘em. Whatchu want, James Bond? ” “Look mate, I don’t know why you’re here, but I got need for a gambler, so if you’re him bend an ear this way. Me and you, we play a game. You win, I get you whatever you want. I win, I get what I want. What you want, mate? ” “A stiff drink and a way home. You? ” “Same as you, mate, less the drink. Got enough of those. In? ” Fuck this goblin bitch. “ All in. ” The bartender’s grin sears his cheekbones. “I’ll be right back. You don’t go nowhere. ” As he walks away a cruel taunt flits back from over his shoulder, “Get used to hearing that! ” Now I’s at a roulette table in the back corner where a faun cashes out a big win. He wears a patch over his right eye, like a pirate, but he ain’t no sailor. As he scoops’em coins together he ain’t see a troupe of yellow, pot-bellied imps gather ‘bout his ankles. Too late. The faun bares his teeth, but the imps are on him, ripping patches of fur from his legs, knocking him down with blows to the back of the knees. Quick and dirty. Real professional. I back away quickly, too quickly, and splash some of my drink onto the table. It sizzles, as though the table were hot as an oven. And then I’m back at the bar, as is the bartender. “50 coins each, ” he says. “Two coins blind. Don’t touch yours, they’ll burn. I’ll arrange both stacks. Blinds raise every ten hands. ” “You’s dealer? ” “We switch. Don’t worry about the cards, mate, I found a deck you can touch safely. That’s why I was gone so long. ” “You weren’t gone that long. ” My opponent chortles. I’s a comedian, I guess. “Not long at all! Not long at all! ” He deals two cards to each of us. I have the three of clubs, king of spades. “Fold. ” A hearty laugh from the bartender. “You’re blind! You don’t fold! There’s no need! ” “Ok…stay…” “This your first game babe? Too late now. I’m taking your blind. ” The goblin snitches two coins from my stack. My turn to deal. To the goblin’s delight I spill the cards while shuffling them. “Don’t lose any! ” he mocks. “I turned over graves to get those! ” “I got ‘em. I got ‘em, ” I feel like a baby, learnin’ to walk with everyone watching. The deal comes an
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