Director of National Intelligence Says American Citizens Can Be Targeted for Assassination

by | Feb 10, 2010 | Headline News | 5 comments

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    While the administration scrambles to provide Constitutional protections to international terror suspects who take direct action against the United States, no such protections will exist for American citizens if they are deemed a terrorist, according to the director of national intelligence:

    The director of national intelligence affirmed rather bluntly today that the U.S. intelligence community has authority to target American citizens for assassination if they present a direct terrorist threat to the United States.

    “We take direct actions against terrorists in the intelligence community; if … we think that direct action will involve killing an American, we get specific permission to do that,” Director of National Intelligence Dennis Blair told the House Intelligence Committee.

    “The targeting of Americans — it’s a very sensitive issue, but again there’s been more information in the public domain than what has been shared with this committee,” he said.

    It’s important to note that the CIA is chartered to operate outside of the United States, thus what is being referred to here is the targeting of American citizens abroad, not within our own borders.

    The difficulty that arises here is who is deemed a terrorist and what, exactly, is a terrorist group?

    A commentor at, where we originally found this story, made an important point in this respect. Based on official government documents leaked over the course of the last several years, a very broad definition for “terrorist” has emerged.

    The MIAC Strategic Report dated February 20, 2009 suggests that the militia movement in the United States may itself be a breeding ground for terrorist idealogies that include:

    • Those who identify with Christianity
    • White nationalists
    • Sovereign citizens who question the legitimacy of the federal government
    • Militant anti-abortionists
    • Tax resistors
    • Anti-immigration proponents

    As you can see, the definitions here are very loose.

    The Patriot Act legislation, however, is even more unclear as to who can or cannot be deemed a terrorist. Under Patriot Act, it seems that just about anyone who violates a federal law and/or is accused of any of the following can be arrested for terrorism:

    Patriot Act, Section 802

    (5) the term `domestic terrorism’ means activities that–

    (A) involve acts dangerous to human life that are a violation of the criminal laws of the United States or of any State;

    (B) appear to be intended–

    (i) to intimidate or coerce a civilian population;
    (ii) to influence the policy of a government by intimidation or coercion; or
    (iii) to affect the conduct of a government by mass destruction, assassination, or kidnapping; and

    (C) occur primarily within the territorial jurisdiction of the United States.’

    A terrorist violation of Patriot Act  can have serious implications, a couple of which involve being incarcerated for the duration of your life without access to due process, a protection specifically enumerated by the sixth amendment of the Constitution, as well as forfeiture and seizure of all personal assets of said terrorist under Patriot Act section 806, even if the accused has not been convicted of a crime.

    It looks like we can add authorized assassination to the list.

    Frankly, this is sounding more and more like the former USSR everyday.


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      1. The cat is out of the bag. We have spoken, written and conveyed subversive comments about our gov’t. I for one am guilty of most of the afore metioned violations, I will continue to do so publicly and privetly. I urge all americans to join a group or start one of your own, to resist this tyranny. We Are Change is one of many. We Are Change is a grass roots group dedicated to promoting public awareness about issues just like this we have charters all over the country. DO SOMETHING, don’t just read about it.

      2. Comments…..HEY PAUL- alot of us are fed up with big gov and taxes, and you are right 100%

      3. Brings this disturbing poem to mind:

        THE HANGMAN 
        By Maurice Ogden

                       Into our town the hangman came,
                       smelling of gold and blood and flame.
                       He paced our bricks with a different air,
                       and built his frame on the courthouse square.

                       The scaffold stood by the courthouse side,
                       only as wide as the door was wide
                       with a frame as tall, or a little more,
                       than the capping sill of the courthouse door.

                       And we wondered whenever we had the time,
                       Who the criminal? What the crime?
                       The hangman judged with the yellow twist
                       of knotted hemp in his busy fist.

                       And innocent though we were with dread,
                       we passed those eyes of buckshot lead.
                       Till one cried, “Hangman, who is he,
                       for whom you raised the gallows-tree?”

                       Then a twinkle grew in his buckshot eye
                       and he gave a riddle instead of reply.
                       “He who serves me best,” said he
                       “Shall earn the rope on the gallows-tree.”

                       And he stepped down and laid his hand
                       on a man who came from another land.
                       And we breathed again, for anothers grief
                       at the hangmans hand, was our relief.

                       And the gallows frame on the courthouse lawn
                       by tomorrow’s sun would be struck and gone.
                       So we gave him way and no one spoke
                       out of respect for his hangmans cloak.

                       The next day’s sun looked mildly down
                       on roof and street in our quiet town;
                       and stark and black in the morning air
                       the gallows-tree on the courthouse square.

                       And the hangman stood at his usual stand
                       with the yellow hemp in his busy hand.
                       With his buckshot eye and his jaw like a pike,
                       and his air so knowing and business-like.

                       And we cried, “Hangman, have you not done,
                       yesterday with the alien one?”
                       Then we fell silent and stood amazed.
                       “Oh, not for him was the gallows raised.”

                       He laughed a laugh as he looked at us,
                       “Do you think I’ve gone to all this fuss,
                       To hang one man? That’s the thing I do.
                       To stretch the rope when the rope is new.”

                       Above our silence a voice cried “Shame!”
                       and into our midst the hangman came;
                       to that mans place, “Do you hold,” said he,
                       “With him that was meat for the gallows-tree?”

                       He laid his hand on that one’s arm
                       and we shrank back in quick alarm.
                       We gave him way, and no one spoke,
                       out of fear of the hangmans cloak.

                       That night we saw with dread surprise
                       the hangmans scaffold had grown in size.
                       Fed by the blood beneath the chute,
                       the gallows-tree had taken root.

                       Now as wide, or a little more
                       than the steps that led to the courthouse door.
                       As tall as the writing, or nearly as tall,
                       half way up on the courthouse wall.

                       The third he took, we had all heard tell,
                       was a usurer…, an infidel.
                       And “What” said the hangman, “Have you to do
                       with the gallows-bound…, and he a Jew?”

                       And we cried out, “Is this one he
                       who has served you well and faithfully?”
                       The hangman smiled, “It’s a clever scheme
                       to try the strength of the gallows beam.”

                       The fourth man’s dark accusing song
                       had scratched our comfort hard and long.
                       “And what concern,” he gave us back,
                       “Have you … for  the doomed and black?”

                       The fifth, the sixth, and we cried again,
                       “Hangman, hangman, is this the man?”
                       “It’s a trick”, said he, “that we hangman know
                       for easing the trap when the trap springs slow.”

                       And so we ceased and asked now more
                       as the hangman tallied his bloody score.
                       And sun by sun, and night by night
                       the gallows grew to monstrous height.

                       The wings of the scaffold opened wide
                       until they covered the square from side to side.
                       And the monster cross beam looking down,
                       cast its shadow across the town.

                       Then through the town the hangman came
                       and called through the empy streets…my name.
                       I looked at the gallows soaring tall
                       and thought … there’s no one left at all

                       for hanging …  and so he called to me
                       to help take down the gallows-tree.
                       And I went out with right good hope
                       to the hangmans tree and the hangmans rope.

                       He smiled at me as I came down
                       to the courthouse square…through the silent town.
                       Supple and stretched in his busy hand,
                       was the yellow twist of hempen strand.

                       He whistled his tune as he tried the trap
                       and it sprang down with a ready snap.
                       Then with a smile of awful command,
                       He laid his hand upon my hand.

                       “You tricked me Hangman.” I shouted then,
                       “That your scaffold was built for other men,
                       and I’m no henchman of yours.” I cried.
                       “You lied to me Hangman, foully lied.”

                       Then a twinkle grew in his buckshot eye,
                       “Lied to you…tricked you?” He said “Not I…
                       for I answered straight and told you true.
                       The scaffold was raised for none but you.”

                       “For who has served more faithfully?
                       With your coward’s hope.” said He,
                       “And where are the others that might have stood
                       side by your side, in the common good?”

                       “Dead!” I answered, and amiably
                       “Murdered,” the Hangman corrected me.
                       “First the alien …  then the Jew.
                       I did no more than you let me do.”

                       Beneath the beam that blocked the sky
                       none before stood so alone as I.
                       The Hangman then strapped me…with no voice there
                       to cry “Stay!” … for me in the empty square.

        THE BOTTOM LINE: “…I did no more than you let me do.”


        Thanks Norsky. That poem sums it up soooo well!!!

      5. The Hangman’s Fate

        We grabbed him firm and his evil lot.
        As we loosened up his hangman’s knot.
        For you hangman’s evil we’ll make you pay.
        Drop your eyes and for your deliverance, pray.

        You’ve got nothing left, we see your plot!
        We won’t stand anymore for your hangman’s knot.
        There’s a place in hell for your hangman’s creed.
        Spring the trap! Let him bleed!

        Don’t dispair, its our victory!
        We’re not guilty, its now history.
        So go your way and celetbrate
        our liberation and the hangman’s fate.

        (The moral of the story: A tiny fraction of whole of the people outnumber the hangmen. Don’t despair. Don’t be afraid.)

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