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You’re welcome

September 27, 2010

September 27, 2010 is the first anniversary of the outing of thrice convicted felon and suspended (though expulsion worthy) 2008 Hillsborough Lodge No. 25 Past Master James Anderson “Jimmy” Foster. 

An open letter to the felon:

When a very strange chill ran down our spine yesterday, the person next to us asked, “Oh, is Jimmy Foster in the church now?”

And there you sat in the back; a row of Foster, four of Masons.  One of these is not like the other. 

The memorialized Master Mason was lauded for senses of humor and purpose.  The cowan who for years deceived and lied to him attended the service.  One not like the other indeed.

The deceased brother deserved better. 

All brethren in good standing deserved better. 

All nonmasons in your sphere deserved better, including those who’ve:

  • worked for or with you.
  • married and divorced you.
  • suffered aggravated battery and other crimes committed by you.
  • been the subject of sensational lies spun by you.
  • endured great betrayal by you.
  • no idea of how truly evil you are.

But Foster’s faultless, people just don’t understand; or so you and a supporter may say.

Speaking of supporters, oh Jimmy, buddy, it’s a shame you couldn’t witness the September 14, 2010 unmasonic meltown inflicted by your protege’ upon Past District Deputy Grand Master Newcomb as he spoke of Masonic education.

Worshipful Master James F. Bustin’s macabre yet oddly entertaining display of irrationality could be termed equal parts trainwreck and what likely happened to Baby Jane.  

It was, as younger brothers might say, “epic.”  And it was, as concluded by some seasoned brothers, “the student becoming the master.” 

Perhaps it was foreclosure-induced stress but as with the number of licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Tootsie Pop, the world may never know.

Better still was his puppeteer’s defender’s opine of a Masonic blue lodge as unsuitable for Masonic education.

Um, what?

Where exactly should Masonic education take place if not in a Masonic blue lodge?  Target, the local Jeep dealer, the Citrus Park Longhorn; where?

It’s been the pleasure of many to witness the grinding halt of your reign of terror and the karmic crumbling of its fringe.  The 2010 ship of fools leadership electioneered at your behest lends infinite credence to “be careful what you electioneer for, you just might get it.” 

So, who will be electioneered into next year’s officer slots and moreover, how will you execute the plan of attack?  You know, what with being a suspended felon barred from engaging in Masonic communication; written, verbal, or otherwise. 

Nudge, nudge.  Wink, wink.

Say, by the way, will you ever admit to:

  • stealing your own petition from Hillsborough Lodge? 
  • illegally storing personal identifying information of Hillsborough Lodge members and employees on your personal computer?
  • usurping the rules and regulations set forth in the Florida Digest of Masonic Law to access sealed membership files?
  • filing false charges against innocent men?
  • repeated coercion cum harassment of brothers in your quest for support of false charges?
  • character assassination of those who rightfully questioned your motives, methods, and exposed your lack of self and mutal respect?
  • having a hand in forging the signature of your pal’s gal on a ludicrous letter to the Grand Lodge of Florida?
  • telling ridiculous lies about brothers and others when backed into an unwinnable battle of wits?
  • widespread, down and dirty electioneering?
  • creating a hostile, tense environment when confronted with your improprieties?
  • your thirst for confrontation-not anyone or anything else-rendering you a thrice convicted felon labouring under suspension?
  • dumping oil into an air conditioning unit against the advice of professional repairmen, thereby destroying the unit and your blue lodge’s budget per repairs allegedly exceeding $250,000.00?

Blaming others for your ineptitude is insane and typical cowardly, cowan behavior.   Should you seek sympathy, it’s in the dictionary between shit and syphilis; you won’t find it here.

Suck it up (ah, sweet memories of prison), put your big boy pants on, and take note; we’ll type real slow so you can digest the whole meaning:

You alone are the root of your troubles.  No being on this (or any other) planet is responsible for the crimes, convictions, lies, frauds, deceits, suspension, and exposed idiocy of James Anderson “Jimmy” Foster except James Anderson “Jimmy” Foster; your blood is on your hands.

And in the immortal words James Bustin alleges a Paster Master to have said, “tell Jimmy Foster to go fuck himself;”  we did.

It has been our pleasure and you are welcome.  

Sincerely,

Felon-free Masonry

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