I'm no computer graphics expert....

The Birth Certificate downloaded from WhiteHouse.gov.

The Birth Certificate after a simple "snapshot" and paste.



Statement from FightTheSmears.com about Dual Citizenship

I'm not an expert in computer graphics. Heck, I barely can figure out how to upload images to this blog. However, as a normal part of my job writing technical documentation, I copy pdf images into Word all the time. Anytime you scan a document into pdf format, it is a single image. If you copy the image into Word, the entire image copies, not bits and pieces.

The first image is Barack Obama's purported Birth Certificate, available to anyone on WhiteHouse.gov. It is supposedly a scanned image of his original record. Therefore, it should be one image, like a photograph.

The second image is what occurred when I took a "snapshot" of the pdf and pasted it into Word. You'll notice that portions of the image disappeared and not in any logical manner - parts of words, numbers, and signatures appear in the document. You CAN try this trick at home.

The document is very obviously an altered computer graphic, and not even a good one that is meant to fool anyone.

Everyone should write to their members of Congress and demand an investigation into this forgery that has been posted on an official government website.

Lastly, just in case anyone reading this still thinks the BC is not fraudulent, I have included a statement that appeared on Obama's FightTheSmears.com website prior to the release of the "long-form birth certificate". The web site claims that Obama held dual citizenship through his father until 1982. He was a dual citizen until he was 21. That fact alone makes him ineligible to be President of the United States. Our Founders singularly reserved this high office to Natural Born Citizens - those with no divided loyalty. It is not suffcient to be "native born", born on this soil. To attain the office of President, one must never have had citizenship of any kind in any other country.

Write to your Congressional Representatives TODAY.

Demand an investigation into the fraudulent usurper occupying the highest office in our country!

Remembering Those Who Serve

Arlington National Cemetary

Tomb of the Unknown Soldier

Vietnam Memorial

Women in the Military Memorial

World War II Memorial

Take a moment to reflect on the thousands of men and women who have dedicated their lives in service to their country.

Say a prayer for those who gave their lives.

Give thanks for the many who willingly sacrifice to preserve our freedom.

The Storage Wars Birth Certificate Story

The story is almost right out of “Storage Wars”, that A&E show about buying storage units at auction. Except storage units abandoned in Oklahoma never are quite the treasure troves of antique autos and priceless memorabilia they seem to be in California. My husband buys storage lockers at auction on a regular basis. He’s feels lucky to find recyclable metal items but usually ends up with baskets of dirty laundry and old mattresses. A few weeks, he decided to go to an auction up in Ponca City. He usually stays right around Oklahoma City and Norman, but a buddy who has a thrift shop in Chandler was going and invited him along for the ride.

This particular locker was filled with neatly stacked and labeled boxes. Generally, lockers with well-packed boxes yield more valuable items than those filled with hastily dumped household goods from quickly-vacating tenants, one step ahead of the sheriff.

One sturdy, taped-up carton had a hand-addressed mailing label affixed to it. It was addressed to a Beverly Bryan in Ponca City. More interesting was the return address: Mrs. M. Dunham, Honolulu, Hawaii. The package was postmarked March, 2008.

My husband didn’t open the box until last Monday. Inside were an old scrapbook, a dried orchid in a plastic baggie, a dried lei in another baggie, and two shoeboxes. The scrapbook contained yellowed Ponca City newspaper clippings, advertisements from the Jay Paris Furniture Store in Ponca City, mimeographed invitations to the Conoco employee picnics for 1949 and 1950, a few faded ribbons, and more dried flowers. There were also the two documents shown here.

He went on to the shoeboxes. Inside one was a rubber-banded packet of greeting cards and letters. The rubber band broke from dry rot when he took it off. None of the correspondence were in envelopes, except a few of the birthday cards. Each letter was addressed to “My dear Ann” and signed “With Love, Mom.” I helped him read through the stack, although I usually don’t like going through other people’s stuff.

I want to share a most interesting letter, dated August 6, 1961.

My dear Ann,

You know I always have wanted only the best for you. You are my daughter and only child. I love you, no matter what choices you make in your life. I cannot help but be distressed, however, after our last telephone conversation.

Your dad and I moved to Hawaii because we were concerned about the crowd you had fallen in with. It was not that we objected to you seeing negro boys, it was their low class that bothered us. Really, Ann, high school drop outs and musicians in those dirty beatnik clubs. They are just not our type. We tried to interest you in suitable intellectual men. We enrolled you at the university here with the hope you would meet a bright young man and forget those Seattle boys. Your dad even brought home that charming Barack Obama he met through his friend Frank. You know, Barack Obama is extremely intellectual and very well-thought of at the university, being the first African to attend. I know, you were a bit put off by his affinity to the liquor bottle and his attentions to other women, but as we told you, he is new to America and just getting his taste of this life.

But as usual, you were strong headed and wouldn’t listen to us. You couldn’t wait until your 18th birthday so you could go back to Seattle and be with all your friends. We’ve seen how that turned out, pregnant in no time flat. And then your irresponsible boyfriend up and joins the Army, leaving you high and dry to have that baby alone. I warned you about musicians, dear. They never want to face the music, if you’ll forgive the pun.

I am glad you at least heeded my advice and went to Vancouver to have the baby. Your dad and I will fix things here. In consideration of a bit of help with his tuition, Barack Obama has agreed to allow us to use his name when we register the birth in Hawaii. It will give respectability to you and the baby. Think how much better it will be for you to say the father is a well-respected, intellectual from Kenya. I have even explained your absence these last few months by saying you went to Barack’s homeland to give birth in the traditional way, in respect to his family. Don’t dismiss the story out of hand, Ann. I think you will find it quite helpful, once you’ve given the situation adequate thought.

Please write or telephone, you can reverse the charges.

With Love,
Mom