Author Archives: Jean Eisenhower

About Jean Eisenhower

Nomad in Service. Former businesswoman, activist, artist, author, manager, educator, now keeping things simple, no longer owning a home, but traveling to suit the weather, being of Service wherever I go.

Brain Entrainment – Report

Hi All,
I want to describe my experience with brain entrainment – which I called “training wheels” for developing greater consciousness of my mental processes.
First, I liked the BrainWave app, found it very soothing and hopefully protective.  On evening three, however, while sitting in bed at night, I had the distinct impression that the steady entrainment frequency (which I was using for a vague sense of “protection”) could also be used to slip programming into me by matching the frequency as a carrier wave – and might be doing it right then – there seemed to be some sort of interference coming through!
Immediately, I removed my ear buds and replaced the entrainment frequency app with simple calming music of my choice, figuring that it would be harder for anyone to hide programming inside the ever changing music.  Then I began using music for a big portion of each day after that – which is something I haven’t done much of throughout my life.  (Most of my life, I’ve valued silence and the thoughts of my own mind which I haven’t wanted distracted or overridden by others’ ideas and sounds.)
The new habit of listening to music during the day – music chosen to make me calm and happy – caused me to realize that sometimes my own thoughts – especially when I focus on the mind control – can become toxic!  My Own Thoughts weren’t the pure source I’d always thought they were.  And music, carefully chosen, could put me on a better path – or at least I was willing to try it.  And surprise, surprise, I found myself maintaining a better mood and attitude!
Now, I apologize if this is a no-brainer for some of you who’ve always used music that way, but it’s new for me, and it caused me to realize that entrainment might be thought of as more than just the adaptation of the brain to a particular frequency, but also the adaptation of the brain to a general idea, which it can then magnify, repeat, resonate with, and even amplify.  And if the general trend is negative, it can be interrupted better with music than with my own best intentions.  Surprising discovery
So the exercise of trying out the BrainWave brain entrainment app allowed me to think about, feel, and experience, the dramatic effects of a frequency calming my mind, and a frequency threatening my mind (it seemed), and then I could also consider the experience of entraining to an idea with just with my own mental habits, which might be problematic, even with our best intentions, probably due to mind control, but also possibly just a human fact.
For the last few days, I haven’t used the app, but I feel far more aware now of the state of my mind and my ability to change it with either intention or technology.
I hope this encourages readers to consider their own mental patterns, disciplines, and ways to moderate and protect their mental states.  While technology may seem like a sort of dependence, it was a good awakening experience, helping me toward natural processes, with new awareness of technological and non-technological possibilities.

New video by my happier alter

I realized a year or two ago that my site here and on YouTube both reflect the parts of me that are most angry and afraid and identify as activists; whereas the parts of me that go on with life, keep contributing, making art, being a friend, etc. aren’t as interested in writing about the good parts of my life – they just want to live and catch up on missed time – so my websites don’t reflect the whole of me, only the negative sides.

So, this is my first success in sitting down with my happy alter out to give balance to my story.  Posted just yesterday.

Now, today I feel pretty bad again – for the firs time in a while – having a hard time expanding my lungs to take deeper breaths, so I’m breathing shallowly and don’t have much energy.  And in a half hour I’ll arrive for my first day at work on a new job.  Breathe.  Breathe.  Breath.  It’ll all be okay.

Beautiful: on Living with Pain

I hope every reader here will visit and follow my sister site about natural and spiritual healing from mind control and other traumas.  I’m feeling a shift in which I will write less and less here, and more and more there.

Here is 51sUYGu0tgL._SX329_BO1,204,203,200_.jpgmy most recent post on MK Garden Healing / Garden Healing Church:

https://gardenhealingchurch.org/2016/

04/14/beautiful-on-living-with-pain/

Guinea Pigs: Technologies of Control – exerpt

Screen Shot 2016-04-04 at 6.18.42 PMThis book by Dr. John Hall, M.D., is very satisfying well-documented.  I’m only one-third of the way through, but already, I’ve felt compelled to scan a few pages to share with a few folks and my readers here.

You’ll see on page 45 references to a Department of Justice published survey in which they found complaints “legitimate enough to be included” resulted in an estimate that 3.4 million people in 2008 were victims of stalking, and another 2.4 million were victims of harassment.  Of those 5.8 million, 6% of them (348,000 people) suffered electronic monitoring, and 130,000 reported losing their jobs because of it.

On page 44 Hall comments on medical doctors and their probably-false but consistent conclusions of “delusion” – even though their industry is well-documented to have been at the forefront of and still involved with engineering this technology.

On page 46, a  Centers for Disease Control study found that single individuals are more often attacked that those living as a couple, while the American Journal of Preventative Medicine found women by far the most targeted (7 out of 9).  On page 47, surveys found a high percentage included sexual assaults.

Page 46:  Several studies found that law enforcement is useless and might make things worse.

Pages 49-51:  The FBI / COINTELPRO history of organized stalking began in our very own government’s intelligence agencies, and the Senate investigation in 1976 unearthed it but apparently couldn’t stop it.

Here are a few pages.

I recommend the book, obviously, and suggest you ALWAYS avoid Amazon for your book purchases, and begin instead with addall.com, which includes Amazon, but allows you to compare prices of independent booksellers.

guinea pigs 1.jpegguinea pigs 2.jpeg

I recommend the book, obviously, and suggest you ALWAYS avoid Amazon for your book purchases, and begin instead with addall.com, which includes Amazon, but allows you to compare prices of independent booksellers.

I’ll have to post the second two pages separately, as this post keeps dropping one when I try to add another.  ???

 

 

 

 

 

Online Support and Brain Entrainment

eve-lorgen-1.jpgEve Lorgen, author and counselor for those with “anomalous trauma,” offers an online support group now and then.

I’ve always been too afraid to participate, afraid that my stuff was too different, or that I might distrust people in the group, or it wouldn’t do me any good.

Today was the first day I participated in one, and I’m pleased I did.

Coincidentally, I had listened to a radio interview with Dr. John Hall, MD, about  electronic harassment of targeted individuals (which fits the patter of my last 14 years), in which he mentioned the BrainWave binaural brain entrainment system (whopping price of $3.99, an app on iTunes).

I tried it out and had an immediate relaxation response, as if something electrically depressing had been cancelled or dampened.  So I’ve been wearing earbuds now fairly frequently for two and a half days.

BW_iPad_4.jpg(I’m not crazy about the idea of using technology to protect myself – I’d assumed spiritual protection would be all, but I’ve failed and have felt close to death a great deal this last year.  So I’m happy to accept this technological crutch and am thinking of it as a metaphor, that perhaps I might emulate psychically.)

These two and a half days since feeding simple frequencies into my ear canals, I’ve had impressive energy, a positive mood, and focus enough to finish an important task I had not been able to focus on for a year.  Of course, maybe it’s just how I would have felt anyway, but I’m going to give them a thumbs up.  

So, feeling stronger than I have in a long time, I took a job application I’d filled out last December to the business this morning, and was offered a job in the afternoon – for two workdays, just as I wanted, and exactly the situation I asked for.  Law of Attraction?  Working for me??

We know that sometimes everything can seem go against us at once, so it’s good to remember that sometimes everything can go for us too.  And then it’s time to be grateful and go with it.

I’ll talk about other good stuff happening in my next post.

 

Gang Stalking at the Lama Community

I’ve been a victim of “gang stalking” since at least 2002, when I did media work for the historic “Judi Bari v FBI” trial (about a car-bomb assassination attempt – feds guilty).  Or it was the year that the stalking amped up.  It would become so intense, it would eventually drive me from my home.  Too bad, because word is that moving doesn’t stop it.

Victims of gang stalking are called “Targeted Individuals” or “TI’s,” and they become targets in a wide variety of ways.  Some are randomly selected, selected for convenience, but most TI’s have insulted the status quo in some way – or they are mind control subjects or subjects of other military/intelligence experiments.

Targets experience all sorts of physical and emotional harassment.  Lies spread in one’s community is common, as I wrote about in my blog, “Disinformation.”  Clever discrediting, strangers acting hostilely and bizarrely in public toward the victim, timed synchronistically, compounding the impact, orchestrations that are hard to believe – thankfully, these have been minor for me.  Worst is the electronic and medical harassment that leaves one with ears ringing, Taser burns, and more.

It’s an ugly, Top Secret project, supported with the most advanced technology, used to punish political dissidents or anyone whom someone in authority takes a hating to.  It’s used to groom society, punish those on the edges.  It’s experimental.  It’s brain warfare.  It’s too much money and too little accountability.  It’s human nature at it’s worst.  And it’s real.  Thousands of people are reporting the same sort of bizarre events, technological experiences, delivered in very similar ways.

My gang stalking has been a little different than most commonly reported, in some ways more refined than much of what I read (but not always), and I think that might be due to the sort of mind control program I was enrolled in as a child.  I believe my Eisenhower lineage has afforded me a bit of protection within a very dangerous project I never wittingly or willingly chose.

In recent years, I’ve been mind controlled, while fully conscious of what was happening, but unable to stop it, to let a man destroy my computer.  I’ve been controlled to have sex with a man who revolted me (thankfully, only once while conscious).  I’ve woken up with all the signs of having been gang raped.  I’ve gone to sleep fine, then woken with third-degree Taser burns, injection bruises, biopsy

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Oddly-painless but deep scoops into multiple layers of skin appeared overnight

scoop marks, “donut bruises,” wrenched back and other pains for no reason, and absolute exhaustion also for no reason.

I’ve been woken by tones in my head, I’ve fallen asleep with tones.  My house has been bombarded by extremely loud ultra-low frequencies.  And my portable door lock was broken the first night I installed it for protection.  I’ve had videos transmitted to my head, once two videos transmitted on top of each other – very interesting.

Most of the time, the gang seems to know my schedule and they time “hits” mostly when it won’t ruin my life, but once a series over a course of 4 months did change my life.  And it followed another series of events that happened when I went to the Lama Foundation Community outside Taos for a Permaculture Design course in the summer of 2013.  It seems someone didn’t want me to do this work.

Beautiful friends____3799799632_o.jpgThose two series of events – at and after Lama – which I’ll describe in a moment – would be typical gang stalking.  But one event at Lama went far beyond.  It seemed to mimic an ET abduction.

Now, I know that a few people who’ve long talked about aliens have begun to say it’s all disinformation, meant to discredit.  I don’t think so.  I know that a lot of sincere people, like myself, have been subject to experiences, all sharing similar themes, that have been interpreted as alien contact.  Still, I’d write them off as high-tech illusions in a minute, except that these experiences have been described since the beginning of time and across every culture on the planet.  Contemporary America’s scorn of “aliens” is unique in the history of the planet.  So, unless we want to call everything an illusion, as in the Matrix or some Hindu thought, I believe aliens are real and not just illusion.

I had my first totally-classic stop on the highway by an incredible brilliant white light back in 2000, and things picked up slowly after that.  I also began having shamanic experiences, and was happy and honored to be experiencing the numinous dimensions of our cosmos.  Frightening parts I tried to learn from, as part of the initiation.  Indeed, I soon learned that an African shaman described aliens identical to the classic ones described today – though I’ve never seen that type as I remember – but it gave me comfort that I was in a long-established, understood (outside America) realm of humanity interacting with other dimensions.

car bombAfter I did six weeks of media work at the “Judi Bari v FBI” trial, my admittedly-unusual life has never been the same.  I believe the feds put me on a shit list.

My treatment quickly became so terrifying that suicide was in my journals and thoughts every day for the six months following the trial, less often after that, but the idea never left me until last summer when I finally realized I’m philosophically opposed to it for one simple reason:  I might not fully understand what’s going on (after all, there’s much going on in other realms that we can’t see), and it might not be as bad as it seems.

So, for the last year, when I’ve been the most harassed, I’ve only wished to die, prayed to die, thought I was going to die, had heart problems, had at least one heart attack, and wondered if the gang would eventually kill me.  But I never any more think about killing myself.

Some activists on the subject say the Gang hopes to drive us to kill ourselves or kill someone else, and only rarely do they kill a Target – but they make it look like a suicide if they do.  (So don’t be fooled.)

In the spring of 2013, I completed 6 months of work I’d done to qualify for a small grant to start a business.  I really needed to do something new, get away from the computer which I’d worked on since 1986.  I’d been studying, teaching and practicing Permaculture since 1989, and I wondered why’d I’d been afraid of it before.  It seemed too “good” for me, too wonderful to replant my life into Nature; I’d been sacrificing all my life, and now I was going to give myself something Good.  A new late-life career, and perfect one.  I sent in a check for a major chunk of my money and drove away to attend my second Permaculture Design Course being offered at the Lama Foundation community.  I was in love already with the vision, the strangers I’d soon meet who’d love design the way I do, who like their hands on living things, who can imagine a new way of living on Earth.

The first night after dinner, we were notified that we were expected to help in the kitchen at least once during our 10 days, and I decided to get it out of the way immediately and worked that night.  I was astounded to witness how filthy the kitchen was.  It didn’t look like anyone there had any concept about state laws governing commercial kitchens.  The large wooden cutting board had remnants of vegetables embedded in pizza sauce that looked to be a few days old, and everything sat on a layer of grease that could be scraped up in large strips if one was inclined.  I leaned into it.

Some time later, many of us became ill with a Norovirus, and we all soon learned that the entire regular kitchen staff was sick with the virus and one of them had gone to the hospital.  The kitchen crew we’d met were all stand-in’s, and no one had thought to clean the kitchen – and then they asked us to do it.

One of our group went to the hospital.  One went home.  And a few of us passed out in our tents, in and out of consciousness for a few days.  Most shocking was that we seemed to have been forgotten.  Those who didn’t get sick didn’t realize how very sick we were.  Thankfully, someone brought a 5-gallon container of water for three of us to share.  One person came and asked if any of us would like food, but when I said yes, a banana, he forgot and never returned; later I learned he’d gotten sick.

Our fevers, as we baked in our tents mid-day, would wake us up, we’d crawl out and get chilled, and that would wake us enough to stagger over to see if the others were okay, and one trip out that day would be all we’d accomplish.  By day three we were walking again, sitting far from the others, in case we were still contagious, sipping soup and marveling at what we’d been through.

Between the kitchen work and the virus hitting, something else happened, but I don’t think it was related to the illness, because I’m the only person – I think – that it happened to.  I woke in the middle of the night and tried to move my arms to get an elbow beneath me so I could reach with my other arm for water, but something prevented me from even moving my elbow.  I woke more fully in alarm, discovering that my sleeping bag was somehow wrapped around me extremely tight.  I thought I must have somehow lain on a  doubled-over piece of the bag, so I tried to roll off of it, but when I rolled back and forth, the entire bag was wrapped tightly around me.  Eventually, I rolled more and wiggled enough to get an arm out, and then the other, and discovered I was truly wrapped inside the bag, like someone had rolled me up in it.

Suppressing my alarm, I reached for my water, but it wasn’t there.  Nothing was there.  Not my journal, not my purse, nothing.  Where was my stuff?!  I wasn’t sideways in the tent.  I was one-eighty.  I turned and crawled to the other end, where I found my water and all my things.  What had happened?  I couldn’t have wrapped myself up like that.  And how did I turn around one-eighty?

I’d had a number of alien experiences over the years, had heard the tales of people waking up in their yards or down the street, or in some night shirt they never saw before, so it wasn’t a difficult leap to conclude that this was another alien bungle, an escalation of weirdness on top of an awful lot of weirdness already.  I slaked my thirst and fell back to sleep.

In the morning, I wondered if I could have done that to myself.  If so, it would be a first and highly strange.  I decided I wasn’t going to say anything about this to anyone.  No, this was my new Permaculture life.  I was leaving the crazy shit behind.  (Yeah, I thought I was going to be an activist on the alien issue once, but I’d tired of that pretty quickly.  No one wants to hear.  And sometimes the craziness seemed to go away for long periods of time – not to say it had gone away, but I was trying to make it go away by ignoring it.)  But here it was.  Again.  Shit.  Invading my dream.  I would pray on the way to breakfast, and get myself back into equanimity.

At breakfast, someone leaned forward and asked the group, “Hey, did anyone else hear the humming in the sky over the trees last night?”  I gulped and my head popped up, and so did a few others.  Two people reacted excitedly, and after them I said that I had too.  No more than that.  No one asked if anyone had any weird experiences, and I said nothing – until near the end of the course, and then just to three people when we carpooled to lunch one free day; they were all very “into” the subject.  It gave me an outlet for a little storytelling, and made me feel not so alone in a crazy reality.

When the Noro virus hit after that, I never felt good again while at the course.  After recovering, I sat in the back of the room for a few days, then rejoined the group in my old place and tried to concentrate on the instruction.  But I was tired, very tired.  The schedule of instruction, demonstrations, work, and movies at night filled every day, and I still needed to catch up on my sleep, and wasn’t sleeping that well, this 61-year old body on thin pads – not as fun as it was decades ago.

When others of our group got sick, and resentment grew for this “spiritual community” that chose not to tell us that an illness had made 30 people sick just before we arrived, and then sent their guests in, unawares, to clean the locus of the disease, we asked to hold a circle.  The community representatives quickly copped to their guilt in pretty, practiced phrases around the circle, but seemed far more skilled at PR in cliches than actually caring about the people who were so severely affected.  (I’d trained in all the communications skills modalities that they were emulating, and I used them too, mellow as any meditator, but I also called them on some of their word gamesmanship – politely of course.)  For the rest of our stay, a few of us found ourselves the subject of sudden silence when we’d come around a corner or enter a room.

Besides the many days of pain and suffering, the toll it took on our health, and now this emotional insult on top, we’d all paid (I forget exactly) over $1,000 for 14 days’ teaching, and we’d each lost at least three days.  And we hadn’t been able to eat any of the food (for which we’d pre-paid separately) for those three days, and could only eat small amounts of food for the next few.  Those of us who got sickest thought it only made sense to ask for a refund of at least a portion of our food, but the community was indignant and refused.  They even implied that we were slacking by not taking another tour in the kitchen.

One night, in a gesture of appeasement, they offered two of us a bed in the guest yurt – for free – so we could sleep more comfortably.  I thanked them and accepted.  That night, shortly after I’d retired, they fired up the hot tubs right outside the yurt and had a loud party with lots of whooping and laughter.

Since I’d moved all my things into the yurt, and the campground was a half-mile forest-walk away in the dark, I didn’t want to move, so at 10 pm I walked out and down the trail and around the yurt to let them know that someone was sleeping there.  They apologized, promised to end the party, and then promptly began again as soon as I lay down my head.  I enduring it for another half-hour, practiced breathing and praying, then talking to myself.  I finally got up again to let them know, again, politely, that their noise was still keeping me from sleeping.  They apologized again, made promises again, and then after I’d lain down, they returned to partying.  Around midnight, as I was putting on my coat and leaving the yurt, someone spoke softly and everyone became quiet for the night.

I stood there wondering at the mindset of these people who’ve inherited, or taken over, a spiritual community – one I’d had such high expectations of, one that a friend of mine had done the first Permaculture design for decades ago, and other friends visit every year and wax poetic about.  What had happened?  I’ve come to accept that everything is infiltrated by the Dark.  And spiritual communities, perhaps, especially.  It only take a few people to drive the good ones away.

The next morning, I decided not to be cowed and asked for a meeting again with the stand-in director.  Younger than me by thirty years, she sat upright, as in meditation, a mild smile on her lips.  I told her about my experience in the yurt with the party, pretending it was simply youthful exuberance, a mistake, but I let her know I was still sleep-deprived and hurt by the inconsideration.  She told me the party was a highly unusual one, that the tubs were “always” treated as sacred space, and usually there’s no speaking at all, and only whispering if speech is necessary.  “I don’t know what happened last night,” she told me with innocent eyes and a Mona Lisa smile.  Then she “reminded” me what was the cost for the yurt per night and suggested that I square up.

Our eyes were locked in mutual Buddhist loving stares, and I said, “No.  I’m not paying for my nights in the yurt.”  She politely presented reasons why I should pay, and I politely reminded her the yurt was an offered gift and compensation for not being able to eat for three days because of their virus.  She seemed to have enjoyed her game and “allowed” me to use the yurt for the next few nights for free, but I’d stay only one more.

At home, I had another shock, a personal one I’ll skip.  As soon as I could, I launched my workshops and hoped to begin picking up design work.  Five days before my first workshop, I was hit and could barely get out of bed.  For the next few days, I couldn’t concentrate to plan my workshop and had to do it in the last two days.  I was rattled by the timing, and my workshop was not very good.  The next month, the same thing happened, same timing, hit five days before my workshop, and unable to concentrate to teach.  It happened every month from August through November, always just before an advertised workshop.  I took a break in December, and in January acknowledged I was afraid to announce anything.  My partner said he’d cover the bills for awhile, and told me to take a break.  And I never taught Permaculture again.

The gang stalking, as I said, amplified long before, in 2002, and it seems like it’s gotten far worse in the last few years.  But maybe it only changes.  I think they use some of us to test their electronic weaponry, see if they can scramble our brains just a little, keep us functioning, looking mostly normal, but not be able to concentrate.  Sometimes, they try out weapons that bruise and burn us.  Sometimes they seem to take biopsies which leave us with “scoop marks” or divots in our skin.  I’ve even woken with a healed scar on my neck that a medical professional assumed was from thyroid surgery.  I wonder.  And then there’s the injection bruises – I began to watch for those and for a long period of time found two each week, like clockwork, most with accompanying exhaustion to some degree.

I seem to be used as a guinea pig for a lot of electronics lately, hearing tones a lot, having strange tones come out of my TV, and hearing strange things on the phone, liked a human voice speeded up on my answering machine, and taped recordings giving directions to “re-record.”

DSC05256.JPGI woke once with a tunnel in my skin on my left scapula where I’d long believed a malfunctioning implant had been because it always itched terribly and I’d developed a strange, 4″ wide bruise that radiated off to one side and had been there for over a year, which no doctor could say what it was.  The same morning the tunnel appeared, letting me assume they’re removed it, a new hypersensitive spot was tingling higher on my shoulder and continues to this day, years later.  Indeed, the year-old bruise did fade over the course of the next month.

Everything in the world today is “infiltrated” with people who’ll do things like this to some people.  Some say the actors are demonic, others alien, agents of Archons – all sorts of theories or language is used to talk about this phenomenon.  But most people understand it’s managed by someone inside government intelligence agencies.  And their Gang members are everywhere, even in spiritual communities, somehow recruited into this work.

Victims are everywhere too.  Suffering silently, because no one wants to believe this.  I know it’s hard to believe, sometimes even when it happens to you.  But it keeps happening, and goes on for years, and decades.  Then you finally discover there’s a name for it!  And  there are many people scattered around the nation who tell you you’re not the only one, you’re not crazy, and it’s also happening to them.  Bitter comfort.

And then we’re told the rules:  Don’t tell the police.  Don’t tell your doctor.  (I erred there – my propensity for telling the truth.)  If you tell, others warn, they’ll call you crazy and lock you up.  I’ve been called delusional – but only by one doctor who is probably involved.  Thank God that many other doctors around the nation, who know me personally or have read my accounts in full, concur that I’m suffering from something very real, and it’s not in my mind.

One good thing about it, at least for me:  It makes me look beyond this plane and align myself with energies of the cosmos, rather than Earth.  And it usually only affects me for maybe a quarter of my time, so with the rest of my life I can pull myself together and do my best to keep contributing to a better world.

The Majus

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Who read this book?  The Majus, by John Fowles.

I read it back in the late 80s, I think, and it totally freaked me out.  It was a creepy, terrifying “thriller,” set on an idyllic island, experienced by a couple expecting to have a luxurious vacation in nature.

Instead, they are terrorized in bizarre ways, with circumstances that surprise, never hurt, imply extreme danger, hint at numbers of people who are never see; they are separated from each other, and the quiet horror goes on and on and on and on… until the end, when they are miraculously led out.

Written in 1985.  Sounds like gang stalking.  I hated it and couldn’t understand why anyone would write something so sick.  Maybe he wrote it because he knew it was being planned.

Jim N. E. Cricket’s excellent video ;}

This guy surprised me quite a few times by talking about things I’ve never heard anyone else talk about – but I’ve experienced.  He’s fearless.

Now, after 18:00, he lost me once, with an explanation that included a mention of being locked up for a mental illness.  Aye!

I know that can happen to the best of us, but coming right when I was having a hard time following – was sorta funny.

We all know that the best disinformation is embedded in truth, of course, so we must always judge every part of everything we’re told, as well as everything we think.

And just before 34:00 he begins about the Nazi agenda of eugenics.  Says it very well, but I don’t want to believe it exactly that way.  I do believe a sorting (“harvest”?) is coming up, though.  This helps us consider how serious this is, but ultimately, this materialistic, political, exo-political view is only part of the multi-dimensional/spiritual picture.

Focusing too much on the enemy may be a type of psychic entrainment, so it may behoove us to pretend not to notice or care.  Hmmmm….

Enjoy.  Educate!

Bit from “Guinea Pigs: Technologies of Control”

Screen Shot 2016-04-04 at 6.18.42 PMFrom John Hall’s book, about electronic harassment of targeted individuals:

Two startling facts are apparent when one reviews the literature on schizophrenia and its associated auditory hallucinations [AH].  The same holds true for AH secondary to psychosis (non-schizophrenic) and delusional disorder.

    It is almost as if it is pre-assumed that hearing voices at all, regardless of their content, is a symptom of mental illness.  … Secondarily, there is absolutely no mention in any of the psychiatric studies of the possibility  that technology exists to place voices in one’s head.  One would assume that, with psychiatrists at the helm of the early mind control studies, there would be at least a suggestion that we now have the technology to reproduce the symptoms of schizophrenia.

    Thousands of people are currently voicing just that complaint.  Individuals, many of them professionals with no history of mental illness, are complaining of hearing voices.  The number of these complaints far exceeds the published percentages of schizophrenia and delusional disorder as a percentage of the total population.

    It is my opinion that many of the people complaining of auditory harassment may indeed be victims of harassment technology and not a mental disease.  I find it highly unlikely that large groups of schizophrenics voicing similar complaints would be corresponding with each other over the internet looking for answer to their dilemma.

    However, that is exactly what is happening!  [editorial correction:  large groups of people, not schizophrenics, are voicing complaints.]

    So, does the technology exist to place voices in one’s head or surroundings that only they can hear, mimicking the symptoms of mental illness?  The literature indeed does illustrate the fact that such technology exists.

    So why does the psychiatric community refuse to consider technologic harassment as an etiology of auditory hallucinations…?

Healing Help for Electronic Harassment?

The John Hall radio interview I wrote about recently has given me hope that we can find ways to protect ourselves from electronic harassment.

I decided first to try “binaural brainwave entrainment.”

The impressive results over just a day and a half are only anecdotal, of course, and could very well be coincidental, but here they are:

Supposedly, binaural brainwave entrainment helps some to cancel out electronic harassment.  John Hall mentioned the Banzai Labs company in particular, here:  http://www.banzailabs.com/brainwaveapps.html.

I downloaded their modestly-priced app on my iPhone (“best reviewed app of its kind in the iTunes app store”/$3.99 – can also be used with other products) and walked around all day yesterday, plus the night before, with various tones humming behind music in my ear buds.

(Even though I don’t usually keep my iPhone near me, I was motivated to at least try it for a few days.)

The sound experiences cause the hemispheres of the brain to entrain at frequencies associated with peace, or well-being, sleep, focus, concentration, stress-relief, etc – you choose what you want on a simple dial.  You can layer over a variety of relaxing music – or even your own.

To my surprise, I woke up yesterday at 2:30 am (!) and felt well rested, energized, and ready to work!  Got up at 3, thinking I’d definitely need a nap, but instead – with the ear buds in all day – I worked with “concentration,” sat in the garden with “relaxation” or “stress-relief” when I was beginning to feel stressed – and I worked VERY productively until 11 pm, and needed very little of my relaxing herbs that day.  I then went to bed at 11:30, slept well again, and woke this morning at 5:30, feeling very well-rested and looking forward to the day.  What a relief!

The productivity of my day was wonderful!  I got a series of complicated projects completed that I’ve been unable to even face for a year!  I finally cleared a number of important projects off my desk.  Worked creatively too.  Visited one friend in person, and enjoyed a long talk with another friend last night.  I even responded to my cat’s many requests throughout the day that I go out in the garden with her for a little break – and I took quite a few nice breaks yesterday.

Was it a coincidence?  Did the controllers also coincidentally give me something that first night to give me energy?  (I have absolutely believed they have that capability and have done it to me.)  Or was it my expectations?  Or – as is John Hall’s theory – did I block the electronic harassment and get back my normal, productive mind? 

I want to believe this is possible. I don’t want to believe that, via electronics, thousands of us can be harassed mercilessly until we die. 

Of course, I can’t help but notice that my left shoulder (yeah, the left shoulder) is buzzing again, like crazy.  I took off my ear buds and set them on either side of the new implant site, and while there the buzzing was gone.  Removed, it began buzzing again after a minute or so.  Retested, again it stopped then began buzzing like crazy again, as it has all year.  It’s not the worst; at best, it’s a reminder of what I face, keeping me serious about my healing needs.

As with any technology, as soon as we find a work-around, they’ll be working on their own work-around, so we’ll probably need to keep vigilant, keep educating ourselves, keep sharing ideas, and keep praying for direction.  And that’s not a bad thing; it’s good.

Sometimes I think of this as all a test.  We might think it feels cruel, like torture, and I can be ready to give up and die.  But before I’m in total, absolute despair, they always back off, leave me alone, and I build myself back up again.  But that’s not enough.

What’s the lesson?  If it is a test, if we’re not entirely powerless, which I don’t believe we are, what is the lesson???  What are we to learn from this torturous experience?

I want to believe that we are only faced with threats on Earth for a reason – to learn how to deal with them.  And one of them might be to learn how to manage our own bio-electric systems to a degree we’ve never yet considered possible before.  And I’m ready to take that on.

Indeed, as multi-dimensional beings, we exist on other dimensions – vibrational realms, even though we may not access it consciously very often.  Since this is part of our multi-dimensional nature, maybe we’re called – as part of our next evolutionary learning – to develop this awareness and these skills, the same way we’ve been learning this century to manage nutrition, exercise, and attitude. Bio-electricity is our next challenge.

Maybe?  Well, I’m game.  My new goal is to imagine the extent to which we might have un-examined and under-utilized power.

John Hall had more to write about mental entrainment (generally, not just electronically) to the controller’s games – and that’s what I’ll write about next.

Thanks for reading, Friends.

 

Guinea Pigs: Technologies of Control

I just happened to buy this book, Guinea Pigs:  Technologies of Control and had it delivered last week.Screen Shot 2016-04-04 at 6.18.42 PM.png

and today Eve Lorgen sent this link in her email newsletter – an interview with the author, John Hall, M.D.

The first five minutes is a wonderfully succinct introduction – much appreciated.

Within the first 15:00, he describes electronic protection I’d never heard of!  Yeah!  I’m going to go look for it next.

At 16:00, he talks about the threat of mental illness diagnosis, and how the medical industry helps cover their tracks by slapping us with false diagnoses.  I know.

Okay, on with the show.  This is a good one.

 

“Something happened in the night,” I sometimes say

Photo on 4-3-16 at 6.31 AMMost days, I wake up feeling fine, like this.  And I go about my day, being productive, visiting with friends, taking care of the house and the garden, writing, and thinking, “I could get a job.”

IMG_5780Some days, though, I wake up feeling like Hell, like last week when I could only assume “They” had taken me in the night for some use I can only guess at and either drugged or electroshocked me to assure my amnesia – and, no, I don’t drink alcohol anymore, so this is no hangover that I created.

Unfortunately this was a day that I’d promised to work with a friend on a natural plaster sculpture I was helping her create.  I called to tell her I felt like hell and took the picture so she’d know I was serious.

I usually feel poisoned for at least a day after something like this, though the longest was thirteen days.

During these events, I can hardly keep myself fed much less do anything else – and these events usually happen at least twice a month, and they’ve been getting more and more frequent in the last five years.

And now that I’ve kicked out my housemate/handler (three months ago), I have no one to cook for me when I’m like this, and my finances don’t even come close to being enough for me to keep my house.

IMG_1725

“donut bruise” – one of two in two weeks

Friends and family encourage me that I can work, but my last semester teaching English at the university, I had a hard time like this once and went to class with a What-the-Hell attitude and told my students I was a mind control subject, and sometimes they fuck with me like this!

Freaked out the kids, and I decided I didn’t trust myself to teach anymore.  And I haven’t – though I love teaching, and when I’m well, I know I’m a good teacher.

I’ve been praying and brainstorming how I can make a living when I have no idea when these events will happen to me – this week?  next week?

In any case, I work as fast as I can when I feel well, because I never know when I’ll be hit and unable, for a day or days, to shop, cook, water, take care of finances, anything.  My finances seem as though they’ll hit the wall very soon, so I’m paying for utilities and everything now with credit cards.

mystery burn on back of neck

mystery burn on back of neck

And no one wants to acknowledge it – especially not family.

Very lonely.

Very cruel, and very ignorant, I think.

American ignorance:  This sort of thing does NOT happen in America – even though it’s very well documented, it just doesn’t.  So buck up.

Photo on 4-3-16 at 6.31 AMOkay, I’m getting back to productive work now, and I’ll probably be cheerful and friendly at the coop today, or whenever I next go out.  [Happy-face Smile!]

After all, it is a beautiful spring day.
The spring’s first roses are at the front gate, and the salvia is blooming at the front door.

IMG_5793 600 w  IMG_5785 600 w

Another Start on the New Book

Did I choose my birthdate and time to come into this life on Earth?  Or did someone or something else?  Or was it an accident, without meaning except whatever I or someone else assign it?

Jean Ann Eisenhower birth certificate 1.jpegThe date was July 7, 1952 − 52 adding up to 7, July the 7th month, making three 7’s if you like number games as I do.  Maybe it’s meaningless.  It was also a full moon.  And a Monday.  And it was smack in the middle of Cancer, also known as Moon Child, ruled by the Moon.  I didn’t realize all these moons and sevens until I was in my 50s, dabbling in astrology for about a month before tiring of it.  A moon phase chart on a NASA or Navy website shows that the Moon was precisely “full” at 4:33 that morning, and I was born at 4:25, just 8 minutes earlier.  With 1,440 minutes in a day, eight minutes is about 5/1,000ths of that, 5/1,000ths of a degree of perfection, pretty dang close.  (And I wonder if the full moon times on that site are when the Moon is most perfectly opposite the Sun relative to Earth, or if it’s when it appears that way from Earth, which is actually 8 minutes later, since that’s the time it takes for the Sun’s light to strike the Earth – in which case I was born with even more eerie precision during the absolute fullness – for whatever that’s worth.  Of course, there were children born all over the planet at that time, so I know it doesn’t make me special.  But it’s interesting.

th-5.jpgNot long after that discovery, I learned that July and August that year were the two highest months of UFO activity ever recorded in world history; it was 5 days after my birth that UFO’s cruised over the White House and made that cover of LIFE Magazine a classic.  When I learned of this, not long after I learned of the 3 sevens and 3 moons, my friends and I locked eyes together and said, “Oooo-eeee-ooooh.”

My father’s father was a veterinarian when my father grew up in Hollywood, California.  My grandfather took care of the pets of many of the stars, and was the veterinarian of Rin Tin Tin.  And people like Jack Webb (Sgt. Joe Friday [“Just the facts, Ma’am”] on Dragnet) th-2.jpgwas a fine cartoonist before he became an actor, and was a regular guest at my father’s home, leaving behind a few large, colored cartoons about times in my father’s family’s home, especially around the pool table.  The family home had a large atrium in the center looking up to a second-story balustrade that circled the atrium with access to the many bedrooms.  When my father was in high school, he bought a car identical to the school principal’s, one of the nicest cars in town.  My grandfather was a 33rd degree Mason.photo copy 4.JPG

My mother’s mother had been an itinerant farm worker alongside her itinerant construction worker husband during the Great Depression.  When he was killed in a construction accident, she had two young daughters, age 8 and 9 to raise.  With help from her Mormon family, she rented an ice cream kiosk on the streets of Phoenix and later Riverside, California, and then Van Nuys, California.  Her great success in this business was attributed to her baking:  she woke early every morning to bake pies and fresh bread, then offered, besides just ice cream, pie and sandwiches on fresh bread – which sold out every day.  Soon she was offered another business proposition.  Local bankers had an empty building and a vision they asked her to fulfill:  To create a restaurant with indoor and outdoor dining, a conference room, and a walk-up window for selling pies.  For the next 25 years, she managed almost the same staff from the day she opened until the day she closed, and I remember the line out the door at lunchtime, and the line down the sidewalk for the pies. 

Patio restaurant outdoor crop.jpg

Patio restaurant crop.jpg

Dig the men all seated and the women all standing to serve.

Her restaurant was the meeting place for the Chamber of Commerce and all the movers and shakers.  I remember a man, Mr. Hyman, who came every single day at lunch – very interesting, because that’s a time few restaurant owners leave if they can avoid it – but he came every day, and she would break off her words mid-sentence as soon as he appeared in the door, and immediately rise to go take a walk with him.  One day while visiting on vacation, my mother hauled me up quickly to walk with my grandmother to meet him, but he was totally uninterested and simply walked away with my grandmother.  “Every day,” my mother told me, “he walks with her, and she has never told anyone what he says.  I assume it’s about business, but he sure has a brusque manner, and they never miss a day.”  Today I believe that my grandmother might have been a very early mind control subject – yes, mind control was being practiced even before the late 40’s – but I’m getting ahead of my story.

My first memory is of our apartment in student housing on the campus of UC Davis.  The memory I should never have told anyone, as it is of my mother expressing extreme frustration, throwing down her spatula beside the stove and walking out the door with the words, “I’m leaving and I’m not coming back!”  Lots of young mothers, isolated in America’s nuclear family, were frustrated and would become addicted to Valium, soap operas, and such.  I remember my mother taking lots of naps and my being responsible for keeping younger siblings out of trouble.  Quite the job for a five year old, and I grew up with an authoritative speaking voice and strong sense of responsibility.  The evening I couldn’t stop my sister from jumping off the bathtub edge into the tub, slipping, of course, and hitting her eyebrow on the metal soap dish protruding from the wall, from which she arose screaming with blood pouring down her face, I was terrified that I was going to be serious trouble.  I remember no trouble to me personally, though my sister was taken to the hospital for stitches, but I remember the terror of thinking I’d face it for having failed terribly at my duty.  I was ever after vigilant about fulfilling my duties completely, still today part of my neuroses.  A decade or so ago, I learned that UC Davis was one of the sites of CIA experiments in mind control, under the guise of Human Ecology – where I lived the first 14 months of my life.

th-4.jpgFrom the time I was old enough to say my name, I’ve been asked if I was related to “the President.”  When I was a child, he was The President, but even afterward, he was still “The President” when the name Eisenhower was mentioned.  I used to say Yes, and people would ask what the relation was, and when I said he was my father’s second cousin, people would clearly show their disappointment that second cousin wasn’t all that close.  So I learned to say, “Not close,” and they’d ask, “How close?” or “Do you know the relation?” and I’d answer, “He’s my father’s second cousin,” and they’d respond with delight, “Oh, that’s close!”  Whatever.  One day someone told me that Ike and Mamie “always” visit Scottsdale, where we lived from the time I was 9 till 18, and they were visiting that very weekend, so this person wanted to know if our families ever got together.  It was a shock to realize that this somewhat close relation had never, to my knowledge, ever acknowledged us; I tried not to be hurt by this information, justifying that a President must limit how many people can get close to him.

child not smiling.jpgEvery child thinks that their life is normal, so I never questioned that, at age 5, I had to have my straight hair permed like Shirley Temple’s, and my nails filed into perfect arcs – long enough to “see them on the other side!” the other little girls on the preschool playground noticed.  I thought that was the only way I was different until the day a little boy jumped up in preschool at the announcement that we’d have tomato juice at break time:  “I don’t like tomato juice!” he shouted, gleeful at the attention he’d attracted.  With those words, my whole worldview was struck by lightning, and I fully expected God or at least the teachers to respond to this child who had an opinion contrary to whatever the adults had decided.  I’d never known a child could assert himself about things like this.  I stared, frozen, waiting for the terrible reaction I was certain must come, but there was none.  This stuck in my memory as one of the most shocking events of my young life – at least those I remember.

There’s a lot I remember of my childhood – hundreds of events, I estimate, from my early years:  caring for siblings, learning to embroider and crochet before kindergarten, learning to read, relatives visiting, holidays, different homes, yards, driveways, flower beds, preschool events, neighbors, entertaining myself alone, the escapades and fights of my siblings, watching and envying the children who walked to school outside our picture window, and finally a dozen or more memories of kindergarten, where all the work was easy, even though I was one of the youngest in class, and I was asked by the teacher to help the other children who were slower, and I enjoyed that.

After kindergarten, I remember almost nothing until 3rd grade.  And one of those memories is weird – about painting a tree blown over at 45 degrees, edged with black, with black storm clouds, black wind and black leaves blowing by.  I suspect it’s related to a train trip I took with my mother at about that age.  It  was just we two, leaving my father alone with three children between 0 and 3 – I can’t explain that, unless it was a very special event which no one has ever talked about.  I asked my mother recently why we took that train trip and where; she answered as if lying: her voice went high as if it was totally insignificant that we went to see my aunt in New Mexico.  Why, she never said.  By then I’d learned not to ask too many questions about my childhood, because most of the time, I’d be asked in return, “Why do you ask?” I gathered that it was something my mother didn’t want to talk about.  (My father almost never spoke to me that I recall, except to say “Smile!” while taking holiday photos.)  I felt fortunate to glean as much as I did.

Other disturbing things I recall might be related to my two years of amnesia, or maybe they’re not:  nightmares and weird sexual dreams, even at a very young age.  One nightmare had my father dressed all in black with a black top hat, sitting atop a black carriage, whipping the black horses as we bounced along in the night, pulling behind us a circus caravan of train cars filled with wild animals.  He whipped the horses to go faster and faster, even though the road was bumpy and it was night.  Suddenly, the cars all bounced apart and some tipped over, and I found myself alone in the dark woods, in danger of being eaten alive.  Another memorable dream was of Porky Pig on stage at the end of the cartoon, and just before the curtain closed, he pulled down his pants and showed his female naked pudendum – and I was mortified and woke in a panic.

One day, I found myself in the back seat of a sedan between two men, with two more in front, all in khaki uniforms with short military haircuts, which I stared at for awhile.  The car had a “two-tone aqua-marine” interior (why do I even remember that phrase?), and I was nearly out of my body with emotions I could not name, but I tried and said things to myself like, “They lied.  It wasn’t what they told me.”  But I wasn’t just confused; I was enraged, almost out of my body, with a sense of betrayal, for which I had no words.  Someone had given me a wind-up toy, a pressed-tin beagle dog, painted brown, black, and white, with sad eyes, and a crank on the side and a music box inside that played, “How Much is that Doggie in the Window?”  When the men dropped me off in front of my home, it was another disorienting experience.  I’d never been dropped off there; until then, friends and family had always come in the driveway, and we all entered the kitchen door.  But here I was, being dropped off alone at the front.  It felt surreal to climb out the car alone with my dog while one man held open the door; then I stepped up onto the curb, then into the squishy grass of the easement, then to the sturdy sidewalk again and up the front walk to open the front door.  Later my mother would say this never happened.  “I’ve always said you have a vivid imagination, and you mix up your dreams with memory,” she would say – a few key times in my life.  I never heard her say it of my siblings.  But she would say it to me at strange times, even when I had evidence, and even when the thing I remembered seemed insignificant, or easily provable, so that I didn’t know why she would choose to assert that I was wrong.

One of those times was when I remembered the student housing apartment at UC Davis.  I had drawn a floor plan, and told her there was a clouded glass window next to the front door, right opposite the tiny kitchen.  Between the kitchen and the living room, the line between the linoleum and carpet was at an angle, and a red chair stood at an angle against the nearest wall, leaving a crevice on one side where a small child could squeeze in.  I got this far in my description when I saw my mother’s face had fallen into an expression of distress, when she stubbornly and with finality said, “You couldn’t remember that – you were only 14 months old when we moved from there.”  She hadn’t said the apartment wasn’t like that, only that I couldn’t remember.  “But, Mom,” I responded, “you just pointed to my floor plan and implied I’d drawn it correctly.”  With that, her face trembled, and she looked into the space above my head and rose from the table and stood looking out the window.  Then, in a sing-song voice she said words that made the hair stand up on the back of my neck:  “I’ve always said you had a vivid imagination, and you mixed up your dreams with memories.”  That sing-song voice, I realized, I heard only a few times in my life, and always in a situation like this, and those same words.

When I was seven, right in the middle of my two years of amnesia, I remember driving to Van Nuys with the entire family and being left “for awhile” with my grandmother and aunt, even though they both worked full-time in the restaurant.  I “helped” my aunt, and watched her type up the daily specials, four groupings of words, all centered in one quarter of the page, each line centered according to a formula she explained to me, of counting the letters in a line and backspacing from a particular point half that number (I loved it!).  She used a brown typewriter ribbon and two sheets of brown carbon paper to get three copies of each page of four, which she cut into twelve quarters before starting on another twelve – and did that every day.  I’d only seen black ribbon and black carbon paper before, and I asked about the brown, to which my aunt responded proudly that they always did things special at the restaurant.  Indeed they did.  It was known for home-cooked food, “not just whatever can be thrown on a grill” as my mother put it, with a tone of pride.  My favorite lunch was the “finger sandwiches” with fruit salad.  The staff made egg salad, tuna salad and chicken salad sandwiches, on fresh-baked white bread, trimmed off the crust, and cut them into thirds, serving one of each on a large plate.  On the side was the beautifully dramatic fruit salad – fresh fruit tossed with whipped cream, heaped fluffy and high on the plate with a wedge of pineapple standing up from the center like a feather on a fancy lady’s hat.  It was the most elegant meal, and I was always proud to order it.

I watched my aunt change out the bar of soap that went into the grinding dispenser in the restroom.  I was very happy attending my aunt that summer and intrigued by all the inventions of the world and all the things there were to learn, liking counting letters to center typing.  I also learned that summer how to use the cash register and make change, so when the restaurant wasn’t busy, my aunt stood beside me while I punched the beautiful cash register keys:  each with a clear bold number on top inside a silver circle frame, ten in a column, from 9 down to 0, repeated in five perfect columns, the dollars in brown and the cents in cream, for tallying numbers from $.01 to $999.99, easy to understand.  It was easy to punch in the customer’s totals from their receipt, punch in the tax, hit Total, and announce the amount almost as quickly as the adult could.  I also learned to make change: starting with the total, take pennies to add up to the nearest number that ends with a five or zero, add nickels or dimes to get to the nearest quarter, and add quarters to get to the nearest dollar, and add dollars to get to whatever bills they’d given me.  Then repeat the counting in the customer’s hand.  Customers never failed to exclaim their surprise and ask me how old I was.  “Seven,” I said proudly.

I have no memory of my family returning to get me that summer.  Maybe I was returned by the men in the sedan.  Or may it was later when I remember waking up at home, absolutely thrilled, and feeling as though I’d been sleeping “for a very long time!” – which is exactly what I told my mother when I ran to her in the kitchen.  “I’m awake!  I’m awake!  And I’ve been asleep for a long, long time!”  I saw the look on her face, and felt she was as surprised and happy as I was, but I could also see she was startled by my exclamation, and immediately denied it.  I saw again the thing I was trained to ignore, and I said nothing about it: her lying.  “No, you were only asleep for the night,” she said, but she said it with “that voice” I knew, and she wasn’t looking at me.  I didn’t understand it, but at least I was home again.

Within a few months, we’d move from our tiny pink stucco bungalow into a large custom home in an exclusive neighborhood where Stuart Udall, Secretary of the Interior of the United States, and a Mormon, had a “second home,” on a lot that abutted our lot, or very nearly.  His cousin, Addison Udall, was my pediatrician.  They would both come to our Christmas party that year, and when I told my doctor at the party that my father gave me “my boosters” (very unlikely, so the question remains: what was he giving me?), the doctor and my father exchanged silent glances I’ve never forgotten, my doctor’s surprise, my father’s dread, my doctor’s evil stare toward my father.  I could be reading something into this entirely wrong, but I think that moment abruptly changed our family life.  By the end of the school year, when we’d been in the house less than eight months, and I know my mother loved it, we’d sell it and move to Paradise Valley, Arizona, by way of Phoenix, which seemed like the worst place in the world to live.

2015 Worst marks left on my body

2015 was a big year for someone (CIA?  FBI?  other mind controllers?) leaving marks on my body while they do who-knows-what.  I assume I’m being used as a guinea pig for drugs, electronic weapons and stun/amnesia devices, and who knows what else.

Not “just” bruises and constant injection bruises, but scoops, gouges, punctures, and burns, not to mention amnesia/missing time and absolute exhaustion.  Here are photos of some of my year:

[skipping many bruises and other marks that probably look unimpressive, but were still mysterious and suspicious, especially in conjunction with other mysteries]

On June 25, I woke with my third “donut” bruise (the others in 2014) – this time just above the back of my knee:

15-6-25 donut bruise bk knee.jpg

15-7-1 burn on neck

On June 30, 2015, I woke with this burn on the back of my neck.

Two days later, it looked like this:15-7-3 neck burn

In November, I woke with these two dots under my jaw.  (I also woke with two dots on my neck in February, but didn’t get a good photo.)  These double puncture/dots have become common now.

15-11-x vampire bite @ m d.jpg

In just the second half of 2015, I also experienced 39 days of mysterious absolute exhaustion, usually combined with bruises and cuts, twice with the certainty that “something happened to me last night,” a puncture wound to my left thigh, many unexplained bruises, cuts, gouges, vaginal and anal irritation, and other unexplained skin damage, hypersensitivity, itching, numbness (all unexplained by my known activities), and many days of heart palpitations and high pulse rate, and a heart attack in August.

I don’t know how to stop them.  I’ve tried to stop posting, as I thought there was a correlation, but I’m not sure, so I’m still posting….

The Last 8 Years

IMG_1725Anomalous weirdness seemed to be increasing, so last January I decided to comb through every journal of mine and record the anomalies since I published RattleSnake Fire, and then record all the anomalies in my book and before my book – the entire rest of my life, as much as I could remember.  I put them all in a master database, with dates and places and other notations, and they total over 700 events!

Some were flesh-and-bones type of events; other were purely psychic, as if in other realms, but consistent with common theories of mind control and psychic attack.

When I checked to see how many occurred in these recent years, I found that, yes, things are accelerating:  I’ve had over half – over 390 anomalous events – since I published my book in January 2008.

Now, anomalous doesn’t mean “bad,” as some anomalies were healing and spiritual insights that made me blissful and came on like a “download.”  So, I colored the supposedly “good” anomalies in green and blue, and I colored the shocking, frightening ones in orange and red.  Those latter outnumbered the positive by 3 or 4 to 1.

Since there were so many, it was hard to wrap my mind around them, so I made an abbreviated list of the biggies – below.

This is not a comprehensive list, only those I wrote in my journal, sometimes I was too messed up to journal for days and might have forgotten to make a record; sometimes I missed things because I was amnesic; and a few journals seem to have gone missing for much of July 2013-July 2014, so I don’t know how much I missed there.  But it’s a good start.

I’ve separated the “challenges” from the “blessings” – and I’ve written with extreme brevity, so they might not sound like much, but in context, believe me, they were.

You’ll notice the few from 2008-2009 (July – July) slowly grow to larger numbers in recent years:

(If anyone finds these familiar, I hope they give you solace that you’re not alone.)

July 2008 –  July 2009 Challenges:

a spiritual attachment

Psychic (freak-out) reaction to a stranger

July 2008 – July 2009 Blessings: 

magical message from shaman

———————————————–

July 2009 – July 2010 Challenges: 

Suspicious lover from teen years called, seducing

experienced conscious MK rape

MK’d to go somewhere, a test

computer weirdness x 3

eyes in mirror not mine

beam bruise

saw demon face over friend’s face

saw etheric safe in my back, and removed it, but not man’s hand also there!

July 2009 – July 2010 Blessings: 

multiple self re-knitting

avoid brain balancing “offer” from suspect doctor

energy healing

“cowboy cataract” healed instantaneously

two alters see each other

———————————————–

July 2010 – July 2011 Challenges: 

Weird, amnestic stop on Highway 90

new door lock broken

sleep anomaly x 10+

weird and mysterious obsession over friend

3 puncture cuts

DSC014024 scoop marks

injection bruise

other weird bruises x 4

pouring nosebleed

inch-deep puncture up beside clitoris

spine mysetriously hurt

new herpes

taser cuTaser burn/sick

tones in ears

night’s struggle

beam follows me around house

next morning:  ears ringing badly, never quit

“walk-in” offer

house entered, things moved, hot water in tap on New Years, footsteps in snow

MK’d sex

old high school friend reconnects; wrote fiction (of me) as MK assassin

bad energy sensed powerfully from across street

noises in house

etheric Aries sign attacked me and stuck to my forehead in energy realm

woman in house makes toilet overflow x 2

message from dark side:  I’m “already in”

spiritual attachments

Despite documentation and no contrary theories, Dr. calls me delusional

Bad spirit in a basket (blessing:  I eject and bring it to heal or depart in garden)

July 2010 – July 2011 Blessings

spontaneous healing

downloads

Persephone helps

blue-green energy healing alters

person inside me helping

cellular changes

another healing x 2

healed teens

nighttime healings x ?

seeing energy, controlling it

yogi comes in

felt g-spot heal

understanding, writing about the cruel teacher

——————————————

2011-2012 Challenges: 

email warning:  new Friend/CIA –

life-threatening email, took to police –

postal mail: I’m an MK slave, may lose my soul – (all 3 in 1 week)

weird sleep and exhaustion x 16+

DSC04837bruises x 3+

needle bruises x 34

4-5 clear tones

2 scoop marks

injured back/no reason x 2

neck out, rib out- pain

2nd taser w oval copy copyanother Taser

weird neck problems x 3

Wake to find friend whispering/instructing me x 2

night terror

realize MK as child on vacations, collapse to floor

computer weirdness

cuts

terrible ear-ringing

iridescent golden mucous glob from sinus

headache

felt severely drugged

more herpes

weird answering machine message

phone interruption:  “record again”

happy drug?  too much energy

acquaintance weirdness

male friend confirms Archons

spiritual attack

shamanic journey:  saw programming in Akron, age 19, painful, terrifying

“dream” of waiting obediently

dream: audition, girls lifting skirts

dream of extra-dimensional powers and astral spying

dream of spying

dream of fire under house

dreams of tunnels, transportation

possible abduction dream

nightmare/porch/screaming

intense forgotten dream

dream of pre-school, computer pass codes, remote command hand tools

July 2011-July 2012 Blessings:

dream of friend that comes true

alters integrating?

feeling strong despite all weirdness

7 months of nothing significant

strong recovery from spiritual attack

recognized MK command to not have orgasm

shamanic journey: removed hooks from spine and neck

shamanic journey:  alters back, bad energy removed, neck fixed

removed shadow

——————————————

July 2012 – July 2013 Challenges

exhausted x 18+

wrenched back x 2, displaced C2

neck hurt x 2, headache, out of it

jaw locked, wouldn’t open

red line in eye

scoop mark

sore

IMG_2558cuts/punctures

grief

depression

anxiety, unable to center self

nausea

hip bruise 1 cropmore weird bruises

ears ringing bad

harassing mental video

computer x 2 and phone weirdness

strange drivers license discovered in my wallet, frightened, called police; afterward no memory of name or face on license

lost time w friend

amnesia, friend no help

email about amnesia – totally forgotten

MK on Christmas Eve

dream of space ship, large marble building, dead body

dream of staircase to other country

dream remote viewing tidal wave, sold on MK

plus events in 2013 – journals missing

July 2012 – July 2013 Blessings:

bolt of healing energy from almond tree

exhaled huge psychic sludge

healing contortions night and morning

energy healing

———————————————-

July 2013 – July 2014 Challenges

camping horror:  apparent abduction, noro virus, almost died (others went to hospital), people sabotage my sleep

friend scares me

consistent sabotage before my scheduled workshops

IMG_2099many injection bruises, weekly

exhaustion with lots of sleep until I quit my business, then felt better

(journals irregular or lost)

July 2013 – July 2014 Blessings:

none (2013 journals disappeared)

———————————————

2014-2015 Challenges: 

“something done in night” x 6+

long sleep and exhaustion x 46

donut bruises x2

injection bruises x 8, “2x/wk”

other bruises x 10

heart racing/hurting x 11

jaw painful x 6

DSC05296scoop marks x 5

numb shoulder x 3

hypersensitive hip x 2

missing time x 8

movies in head x 3, sometimes forgotten

strange noises x 2

vaginal, anal irritation x 2

Thanksgiving: vision, drugged, unable to stand, walk, see; friend incongruous; memory of anal “inoculation”

rage x 9

back wrenched x2

new herpes x 2

gouges both forearms

irritation on thigh

woke w busted thumbnail

woke, peed in bed, total exhaustion with other extreme symptoms

woken by Ultra Low Frequency

tones, sometimes waking me

left shoulder

hands asleep

IMG_2502“vampire” scabs on neck, first day of UFO Congress

cut on left finger

itching hands, arms

triangle dots on hand

ringing in ears (always)

huge, bubbly, iridescent gold mucous from sinus

speedy/drugged?

stomach ache

time confusion

alters switch

visions amazing, then forgotten

saw red UFO, hard sleep

computer weirdness

eBay sabotage

Disqus (never heard of) has account in my name [never fixed – why?]

missing time w friend

See friend in other dimension, scary

Rage 2 days

Knew I’d been electroshocked, found it amusing

brain buzzing

Voice 2 Skull transmission test

downloads to hidden alter:  “MK is All”

dream of remote viewing

alien dreams, anxiety

July 2014 – July 2015 Blessings: 

faerie emergedwatched Dragonfly hatch

in meditation, see spinning child, calm her

met inner Jessie

saw old and young selves in mirror

spiritual house cleaning

spontaneous healing of heart

spiritual clearing, spell broken, alters calibrated

inner Rolfer/yogi healing

spiritual message:  “You can’t keep ignoring us; do shamanic work”

2 healing events

———————————————-

END OF 63rd year  (end of 7th 9-YEAR CYCLE) . . .

(Beginning 8th 9-year Cycle):

July 2015 – January 2016 Challenges

Sense of something done to me in night x 2

absolute exhaustion x 39 (half-year 40/180 = 22% of days!)

puncture wound left thigh

injection bruise

back problem x 2

blood clot from nose

daytime altered state with download

tone x 3, once with chord following

woken by pounding heart x 2

heart pain x 7, once preceded by low vibration

heart anxiety x 12

heart attack

vibration in head

ligament mysteriously inflamed in left pelvis

headache, mind scrambled

missing time

downloads x 2

download about old friend, weird, believable?

meditate -> crazy distractions

dream: something put in old clock, next day clear new tone from clock!

dream: answering machine gives series of numbers

waking life:  answering machine leaves speeded up message (so couldn’t understand); intended to save, but deleted it

computer weird

father’s Navy record suspect of special project subjectIMG_3746

reconnect w old friend, seems another MK subject

Severe RAGE x2

burn on back of neck

2 scoop marks on upper spine

July 2015 – July 2016 Blessings:

Exhaustion of many days suddenly “turned off,” as by switch; feel instantly great

saw face as half-shaman

Mother Goddess real

meditation on Earth’s sexual abuse history – long, forever, won’t quit

Sarasvati real

alters lined up

“walk-in” suggests she can take over; I don’t agree

MK is just what is, always, can’t resist, don’t fight

plant diva:  submission to other’s control is part of life.  Let go.

We are like plants tended by indifferent or ignorant gardeners, not evil.  Only as unconscious as us.

Bloom where you’re planted, despite all.

Comments, friends?  Seems clear to me that I fit the pattern of an MK subject and targeted individual with a bit of spiritual and mystic experiences giving me occasional hope to keep me going.

Edward Kennedy on MKULTRA

_44712184_kennedy.512.jpg“We believed that the record, incomplete as it was, was as complete as it was going to be.  Then one individual, through a Freedom of Information request, accomplished what two U.S. Senate committees could not.  He spurred the agency into finding additional records pertaining to the CIA’s program of experimentation with human subjects.  These new records were discovered by the agency in march.  Their existence was not make known to the Congress until July.

The records reveal a far more extensive series of experiments than had previously been thought.  Eighty-six universities or institutions were involved.  New instances of unethical behavior were revealed.  The intelligence community of this Nation, which requires a shroud of secrecy in order to operate, has a very sacred trust from the American people.  The CIA’s program of human experimentation of the fifties and sixties violated that trust.  It was violated again on the day the bulk of the agency’s records were destroyed in 1973.  It is violated each time a responsible official refuses to recollect the details of the program.  The best safeguard against abuses in the future is a complete public accounting of the abuses of the past.”

— from the MKULTRA Hearings and Documents, PROJECT MKULTRA, THE CIA’S PROGRAM OF RESEARCH IN BEHAVIORAL MODIFICATION, testimony, Wednesday, August 3, 1977, to the U.S. Senate, Select Committee on Intelligence and Subcommittee on Health and Scientific Research of the Committee on Human Resources

We’re still waiting for a complete accounting.

What time is it?

1272659397_romain-jerome-watches-eyjafjallajokull_1.jpgYou’d think that if you were watching a movie, and the camera zoomed in on the watch that the main character wore and kept checking, so tight a zoom that the watch face more than filled the screen, you’d notice the time.  And you’d especially notice the time if the character repeated the action and the director repeated the zoom four or five times.

Not me.  And because the time – always the same – was critical to the plot about time loops, I didn’t understand the movie until my friend told me the time was always 7:42 (or whatever; I don’t remember).

Realizing what I had stubbornly refused to see – at least with my conscious mind – was a powerful shock and an important and helpful wake-up call.  My recent life, the last 22 years, has been a series of such shocks and awakenings.

It was the spring of 1994 when I realized, to my horror, that I was a “multiple personality.”  In the 22 years since, I’ve realized I’m a unique sort of multiple – not the kind with random parts that highjack the system and lead crazy-making alternative lives for hours or years at a time.

No, my “system” [multiple personality jargon] seems to be quite organized in comparison, and even to function well enough that I’ve won awards and national and international recognitions for achievements in everything from news reporting and fundraising to videography and Permaculture education.  This isn’t unusual for multiples, as many of us are geniuses.

My system of alternate personalities – I believe I have a wealth of evidence to prove – was crafted by psychiatrists and mind control researchers beginning shortly after I was born.  My history begins with the CIA’s Human Ecology Project (a front for mind control research) on the campus of UC Davis, where I lived from age 3 days to 14 months.  After that, we moved to Merced where the cousin of the Secretary of the Interior, Addison Udall, was my pediatrician.  After my 1st and 2nd grades, for which I have total amnesia, my family moved into a new custom home that backed up to or near a home of Stewart Udall.   

My history continues matching many aspects of the stories of other mind  control subjects around the United States and Canada who’ve either published their stories, testified before Congress, or whose counselors or therapists have told their stories, or whose details have been compiled in research.

My mind control programming seems to have been constructed along the lines detailed by DC Hammond, the psychiatrist who first came forward and described this problem and its possible cure to the American Psychological Association in the 1980s; and by the controversial researcher Fritz Springmeyer, who presents a diagram of typical alters, scores or hundreds, constructed in shells, like a computer program, making it possible for someone to command a particular alter to perform a particular function perfectly when, where, and as desired by the use of cues, similar to pass codes, which access programs which are regularly reinforced and updated.  So my multiple-ness doesn’t function randomly or dysfunctionally, as movies and books often portray, but precisely according to some Master Controller’s plan.  Usually.

There are exceptions to this, of course.  All us mind control subjects, for instance, writing books and testifying was not in the controllers’ plan.  Because this is research, not perfected yet.  Some of us early research subjects, from the late forties and early fifties, are in our sixties now, and that means that brain cells aren’t being replaced as rapidly, and mental things are deteriorating.  What deteriorates might be “simple memory,” as the average person might think of it, but the brain cells lost might also be part of an amnesic wall or part of a program – meaning that we might begin to remember things we’re not supposed to remember, or we might begin not following commands we’re supposed to follow.  Indeed, around age 40 – as brain research predicts – I began to remember what I wasn’t supposed to remember.

At first I ignored it, thought it some weird aberration, for which I invented all sorts of theories to override the one thing it seemed to be, put it all in a box, on a high shelf in a mental closet, shut the door, and didn’t think about it again for four years, until another break-through memory happened again.  Then I repeated the process:  in the box, on the shelf (saved without looking or mentally tampering, to maybe investigate later), shut the door, and forgot.

After another four years and a sudden crisis of cancer, divorce, moving with teens, one seriously ill, and a nervous breakdown – I went to a therapist’s office, listed my challenges, and followed them with words that had never crossed my frontal cortex until I heard my mouth speaking them – quite the surprise:  “I think I’ve been sexually abused as a child.  [shocked pause]  No, no, that’s not what I meant to say.  I don’t want to deal with that.  I never even thought about it before [lie], and don’t know where it came from.  I have more serious, immediately pressing needs to talk about.”

And so began my 22-years-and-counting journey toward understanding what’s been going on with my mind.  The first year, 1993-1994, I coped with the shock of memories of sexual abuse and the spells of amnesia that had plagued me.  The next 8 years I coped with the shock and self-diagnosis of Multiple Personality Syndrome (aka Dissociative Disorder).  And the following/recent 14 years, I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with the understanding that I’ve been – not just a regular “multiple” – but a mind-control subject, someone with a psychological and psychiatric “technology” applied to multiple alters in me – created intentionally – your tax dollars at work.

So what does this have to do with not noticing the time?  I can only guess, but I know that we can be programmed for any number of things, to support a program of any purpose, sometimes because a subject is being actively used for intelligence purposes (seems unlikely at my age, but possible), and sometimes because a subject is being used for research in new programming techniques, drugs, working with aging subjects, etc.

When I don’t notice the time, it’s easier for my controllers to use me and have me not notice.

In 1994, deep in my initial nervous breakdown depths, I was powerfully moved by the idea that it would be good for me to anchor myself fully in the time cycles of sun and moon and not by clock and calendar, and I lived that way in my hermitage for half of each week while commuting the other half of the week to school in the city.  I thought it was a very spiritual concept, a psychic liberation from the broadcast mind control of Gregorian Calendar and chaotic clock; but it could also have been that I was given the command to stop watching the clock, so that I could be more easily used while alone in the desert.  In 2000, when I began living there full-time, I quit noticing the time entirely, unless I needed to know.

If forced to look at a clock, as in the movie, I studied the craftsmanship of the frame, or the lighting or camera operator’s techniques.  Sometimes, lately, because I’m trying to re-ground myself in time, I see and note the time, and then moments later realize I’ve forgotten it.

I’m still trying to figure out my brain, and try not to feel too bad for finding it so difficult; after all, the government spent a great deal of money and science to keep me from knowing.  So I take heart in whatever little scraps of understanding I can gain.

How do we keep going?  Maybe Spirit.  Maybe our programming.  I ask this question often.

In either case, it is usually lonely, because virtually everyone falls in one of two camps:  it doesn’t happen, or the likelihood is slim; or they know but they just don’t want to hear about it, sorry.

It’s surprising to recognize how long I’ve been so compromised, forced to compensate with notes, notes, notes, reminders, struggling, lately overwhelmed….

Noticing, though, is the first step to healing.  Gotta appreciate what we can.

David Icke – summarized

Quetzalcoatl_telleriano.jpg

Quetzalcoatl – Mesoamerican serpent deity – consuming a human

I don’t know why I ignore David Icke.  Because a few mock him?  Because he scares me?  Because it feels so true, I think I don’t need to hear it?  

 

Whatever, I stumbled upon this blogger’s summary of Icke, which seems a pretty fair summary – as far as I understand, and I quit paying attention a long time ago.  But not because I disparage his message.

Here’s the blogger summary, at this link:  http://www.collective-evolution.com/2013/10/17/david-ickes-theory-of-the-reptilian-human-hybrid-apocalypse/.

The super-hopeful ending – ?  Sometimes I feel that way….

Targeted Individuals

I haven’t often used this term, targeted individual, but it certainly applies to mind control subjects.  Following is an excerpt from http://truthstreammedia.com/2013/09/28/judge-quashes-650m-government-mind-control-lawsuit/ – with many useful links for further research.

Project Lawsuit Abuse wrote, “Prisoner lawsuits are a growing problem, and they waste millions in taxpayer dollars each year.”  It seems if anyone mentions microwave weapons causing voices in their heads or government mind control programs, they are instantly dismissed as mentally unhinged without question.

But what if something like that was actually happening to people?

While Penn Live actually lays out a lot of evidence to show there’s a widescale pattern of people complaining of similar targeting, the ultimate conclusion is, again, that it’s all just a conspiracy theory.

With just a bit more research, perhaps that author would have come across U.S. patent #4,877,027 for “A Hearing System”. According to the device’s abstract, “Sound is induced in the head of a person by radiating the head with microwaves in the range of 100 megahertz to 10,000 megahertz that are modulated with a particular waveform.” There are many more patents out there like it.

The technology for neuroweapons absolutely exists, and all over the world, more and more people are claiming to be victims of them — people who say they have been mercilessly tracked and targeted, physically and psychologically tortured day after day after day at the hands of unknown entities wielding electromagnetic frequency (EMF) weapons. Victims are subjected to voices only they can hear and painful sensations and heating in various areas of their bodies — the exact types of symptoms that could be caused by the EMF weapons described in NASA’s “Future of War 2025” document and the declassified Army Intelligence report “Bioeffects of Selected Nonlethal Weapons“.

The cover story “Misled & Betrayed: How US Cover Stories Are Keeping a Cold War Weapon (Neuroweapons) and Illegal Human Testing a Secret” by Cheryl Welsh, featured in the most recent edition of Torture: Asian and Global Perspectives, lays out the historical case for the U.S. government’s research and development of classified mind control and microwave weapons that began during World War II.

“For decades, the US government prevented the science required for neuroweapons from developing in the unclassified realm; thereby allowing the US government to claim neuroweapons are science fiction, based on the best US science literature available. At the same time, secret neuroweapons research flourished and the US government employed extensive secrecy methods to disguise the fact that neuroweapons were scientifically possible not only in principle but were also proven with science experiments.

Consequently, secret neuroweapons that are already developed are a serious threat but experts are not warning the public and they should be.”

When it comes to the two main areas of study in regard to the human brain, Welsh discusses how the government has been backing and shaping all the publicly available research in the biochemical realm, while closing off and classifying any significant research in the bioelectrical realm. Thus, secret research into the bioelectrical functions of the brain, and the neuroweapons based on those properties, can continue off the record, unabated.

When any questions are raised as to the existence of neuroweapons technology, plausible deniability can easily be claimed based on the latest unclassified science available.

Even though the 1977 Church Committee helped bring the top secret CIA project MKULTRA to the public’s attention, it would seem the project — which at that point had spanned decades, with millions of dollars and thousands of victims — only got blacker and went deeper underground.

Stories like those in Banks’ lawsuit are sadly not even uncommon anymore. Did the U.S. really just suddenly have a huge surge in schizophrenia in the last few decades? That disease has a typical onset in the under 30 crowd; why are people in all age ranges suddenly waking up one day in their 40s, 50s and 60s and claiming to have a lot of the same symptoms without any mental illness history or drug or alcohol problems?

Check out how this 1986 New York Times article “Schizophrenia: Insights Fail to Halt Rising Toll” begins:

“Never before in American history have so many schizophrenics been seen on the streets of American cities, screaming aloud to voices only they can hear, proclaiming themselves God, warning passers-by that the Central Intelligence Agency has bugged their brains, or simply sitting, mute and withdrawn, sunk in an apathy so deep that no emotion crosses their faces.” [emphasis added]

There are even theories that many of the rather large number of people who believed themselves abducted by UFOs in the 1980s and 1990s were actually victims of MKULTRA 2.0. (Guess that makes a lot more sense than aliens traveling through the galaxy all that way to visit earth just to probe people…)

We know that our brain cells communicate with electrical signals. How else would amputees be able to control the latest high tech bionic legs using only their brainwaves?

The government has been called into question on EMF weapons lately, following suspected Navy Yard shooter Aaron Alexis’ claims that he was targeted with just such weapons.

Ultra low frequency attack is what I’ve been subject to for the last three months. And to be perfectly honest, that is what has driven me to this,” Mr. Alexis reportedly wrote in a note before he shot 12 people. Pictures of the shotgun Alexis used to commit the crime have surfaced with “My ELF [extremely low frequency] weapon,” “Better off this way,” and “End the torment” scratched into the barrel.

Source: FBI
Aaron Alexis’ shotgun. Source: FBI

The mainstream media has, for the most part, dutifully painted Alexis as a mentally insane person who just randomly lost it and decided to shoot a bunch of people one day. He isn’t the first government employee to kill and claim it was the government controlling his mind. Carl Campbell was found innocent by reason of insanity after shooting Navy Commander Edward Higgins to death outside the Pentagon in 1991. Court papers revealed Campbell was believed to be schizophrenic due to his assertions the U.S. government had inserted a mind control microchip into his brain.

U.S. Army Intelligence Veteran and Former Director of the Electronic Surveillance Project Julianne McKinney self-published “Microwave Harassment & Mind-Control Experimentation” in 1992 and “Mind Control and the Secret State” in 2008.  In her writings, McKinney outlined what could be the ultimate goals of these clandestine EMF torture programs:

The long-term objectives of these harassment and experimentation campaigns appear to be quite fundamental; viz.,

(1) induce a sense of perverted “loyalty” toward the very agencies engaged in the individual’s harassment, to confuse his or her priorities where the possibility of obtaining legal redress might be concerned;

(2) redirect the targeted individual’s feelings of hopelessness, anger and frustration toward racial and ethnic groups, and toward select, prominent political figures, to include the President of the United States; and

(3) force the individual to commit an act of violence, whether suicide or murder, under conditions which can be plausibly denied by the government.

[I relate to very little of the above, though those objectives likely apply to some other forms of mind control, programs different from mine.]

Listen to a full-length interview with McKinney on the topic below:

This is a very good audio interview with an important person in this field, Julianne McKinny, author of Microwave Harassment and Mind Control Experimentation.  At approximately 12:00, she describes the symptoms of targeting.  At 27:00, she tries to answer what to do for a TI to get peace.  At 36:00, she talks about her own targeted experience.

Opening a new book to follow RattleSnake Fire

IMG_1725My life is exquisitely difficult to talk about.  It’s woven with extreme themes – sexual abuse, mind control, aliens, mysticism – and with accomplishments that make me shy, and failures that embarrass me, and critical facts that embarrass other people.

And none of the themes, for simplification, can be hidden or glossed over, because each intertwines and sometimes explains the others.

I can’t begin at the beginning, because it is either boring, or if I tell certain details, it sounds too woo-woo.

Since I almost always get interrupted fairly early with the question, “Why you?” I think I’ll begin there.

It could be any number of things, but is probably all of them together.  Plus the fact that I won “the lottery.”

(Remember that classic, creepy short story, “The Lottery”?  We read it once in grade school and again in high school, about a community that killed one person every year by stoning, a person drawn by lottery.)

Full MoonMy lottery ticket to this crazy life may have been as simple as my birth date.  I was born on a Full Moon, on a Monday (Moon Day), in the middle of Cancer, also known as Moon Child.

And it wasn’t just a Full Moon, somewhere inside that 24-hour window; no, I was born 8 minutes before the Full Moon, 8/(24×60) = 5/1,000ths of a degree of perfection.  Moon energy was strong.  (Astronomical charts, not astrological, show the coincidence.)

Jean Ann Eisenhower birth certificate 1.jpegSo were the numbers:  I was born on July 7, 1952 − 5+2 adding up to 7.  Three sevens.  Then my mother gave me a name with 7 letters:  Jean Ann.

My last name, at birth and now, is Eisenhower.  My father was second cousin to Dwight, who was nominated to the Republic ticket for President of the United States later birth anncmt.jpegon the day of my birth.  The next day, the local paper would give my birth a short column to remark on the coincidence.

Maybe all these coincidences explain my winning/losing lottery ticket.  Or maybe mind control was already in the family.

Eisenhower crest

Eisenhower family crest

[I’ll expand on these later:  Eisenhowers = Iron hewers (secret society protecting metallurgy secrets for the king).  Grandfather Hollywood veterinarian of Rin-Tin-Tin – Mason – money lender.  Father Navy CASU 33 – unsolved mystery.

[Petersens – Mormons.  Grandmother with her handler.  Mother I saw switch alters, in trance.  Unexplained terror re Mormons.  Flashback of babyhood ritual.]

I seem to have won/lost the lottery and was treated to MK.  Then, having developed a bad attitude toward our culture due to MK, I joined the counter-culture and offended my handlers – again and again, beginning with rejecting the invitation of another secret society, calling them “plastic,” accepting their invitation to “try them,” taking the vows, and then de-activating and breaking my vows.  I assume my actions resulted in another layer of MK, as they warned us that breaking our vows would have severe consequences (which I didn’t believe, as it was contrary to “American values”).

smithsonianIn my 20s, I became an activist for peace, and later for social justice, and environmental sustainability.  Along the way, I insulted the FBI with media releases exposing their most incriminating statements which I sent to 600 major media around the world, nearly every day of the 6-week “Judi Bari v FBI” federal trial – and the FBI was found guilty.

They stared me down in the hallways of the courthouse, damn scary dudes.  They might have amped up my treatment then and following  the trial, when I lived alone in the desert – things got extremely frightening after the trial, to the point I was ready to give up this life.

rf-2nd-ed-front-cover-20 copyPerhaps they amped up my MK again when I published my book.  And maybe they amped it up again each time I published a particularly hard-hitting blog or video.  There seem to be correlations.

~

 

So now that I’ve given you an overview of my story, maybe answered the Why?, and I’ve gotten my paranoia out of the way – or demonstrated and acknowledged it at least – let me tell you my story….

~

In my next memoir, I’ll summarize my life through 2007 briefly, as it’s detailed in RattleSnake Fire: a memoir of extra-dimensional experience, and spend most of the book recounting the most recent eight years.

To help me wrap my brain around it all – my fractured, fragmented mind full of experiences is often difficult to remember as a whole – I created a database to record all my anomalous experiences, from sublime to terrifying, everything out of the normal.  My list is nearly 700 items long, and the last half of them have occurred in the last 5 years.  Things are accelerating.

[to be continued]

Feedback?  How’s this to open an update to my story?

A Disinformation Story from 2007

sheep-wallpaper-1Disinformation is finally being better understood and acknowledged throughout the culture, but few people understand its full extent. And understanding and reading reality correctly is an important survival skill for all of us.

Therefore, I’d like to share what I’ve learned, as both third-party observer and victim.  I’ll chose an older story rather than a new one, to lessen the chance the guilty will be recognized – which I assume will lessen the repercussions I will experience for telling.

~

Before I tell this 7-year old story, I first want to tell a little about the concept:  I didn’t know the word disinformation until I was involved with Earth First!, and then I witnessed it a great deal, as our expert-witness scientist supporters from around the world were ignored by the Media, and our peaceful protests, humorous skits, and potluck dinners (at my home) were treated like national security threats in FBI reports (I have copies).

car bombWhen Judi Bari, a non-violence activist and mother of two, was car-bombed in 1990, she was maligned in the world-wide Media as a would-be bomber.  But subtler lies are also told for different effects.

I’d become a thorn in the FBI’s side when, in 2002, I wrote or helped write, almost every day for six weeks, media releases for the Judi Bari v FBI trial.  When I returned home to my desert hermitage, I began to be plagued by frightening bouts of amnesia and immobilization, with physical wounds, including lacerations and puncture wounds to the inside of my vagina (also photographed) – to the point that I considered suicide frequently.

inside

My g-spot (descending bulge) was sliced from back to front and twice more (not visible here) from side to side.

Feeling like a sitting duck in the desert, I sold my remote home on 20 acres and, because I didn’t think I could stand a big city anymore, found my way to Silver City, in great need of friends to surround me.

taser cuUnfortunately, frightening events continued to happen, including third-degree Taser burns and biopsy scoops that appeared on my hands and arms and back with no memory of how they happened – and weird events of disinformation that undermined my reputation and sense of community.

IMG_1725Over the nine years I’ve lived here, my wounds have also included scores of injection bruises, two donut bruises, dozens of other weird bruises, sexual mysteries, and even some healed scars, one of which a doctor assumed was from thyroid surgery.  Most I’ve photographed, and many I’ve shown friends, though few want to hear about them – I gather because it’s just too upsetting to their world views.

cia doctorsI totally understand not wanting to hear.  It took me a lot of years of having this actually happen to me before I could adjust my world view to get over the “freedom and justice for all” mythology and accept what was happening.

If you find this hard to believe, I do understand, and hope you can read on, because this is part of our reality – and properly reading reality is essential to our survival.  Following is an account of disinformation against me, undermining my status in my new community.

~

In 2007, I was a week or so away from a trip to Peru, when someone recommended a woman to stay at my home and care for my cat.  Actually, it was a couple, I was told, a man and a woman, about my age, who were hip and “into community,” and had some circumstances that had stranded them in Silver City, needing a place to stay; the husband was working, but hadn’t gotten a paycheck yet.  I agreed to let them stay in my home, even though afterward I realized that I didn’t like the woman at all, and she had talked a solid streak for 90 minutes, essentially wearing me down, and making me feel sorry and embarrassed for her, as if to say No would force her to recognize she had been obnoxious, which would be hurtful to her, so I couldn’t say No.  Not logical, but defininely my sort of neurotic, self-defeating kindness.

In Tucson, I was supposed to be at the airport at 6 am for an 8 am flight, but I woke at 4 with a severe toothache that made it very difficult to move with any more than a shuffle, so I canceled my flight with a medical excuse.  I would have a root canal later that afternoon.

Mid-morning, when my plane was in the air, I began receiving bizarre emails from my house sitter who assumed I was on the plane to Peru.  She told me my stove was leaking gas, the phone wasn’t working, two crews of repairmen had been in, and my cat was acting ill – all in her first day at the house, and the first day of my 20-day trip.

Even though I immediately suspected this was probably a form of harassing disinformation, it was shocking to think of how very distressing it would have been to be on a plane to a faraway place with this bombardment of distressing news.

Thankfully, I wasn’t gone, and I’d been around enough FBI lies and other tricks that I found it all suspicious.  So I answered her emails without telling her I was still in Tucson.

Her stories continued to hammer on distressing probabilities and were amped up with direct accusations (13 specific, weird accusations against me! in emails still saved) that I was “paranoid” and similar negative assessments – even though I’d been extremely cautious not to say a single inflammatory word, but simply asked calm questions about my home. It was as though she’d intended I become paranoid.

I called a handy woman friend who visited the house and was told by the woman that the phone was repaired.  Since I’d asked my friend to enter and check out the stove and look around, she asked to enter, but the woman refused.  When my friend next called to tell me the phone was supposedly repaired, I was still unable to call home, and was told by the woman via email that the phone was “down again,” working only during the short period my friend had come to the door.

After drilling and filling my tooth, I hit the road immediately to Tucson, calling another friend along the way, who arrived at the house shortly after I did.  The woman was shocked to find me at the door and was barely willing to let me into my own home.  When my friend arrived, we confronted the woman with the crazy contents of her emails, as I wanted to be entirely fair and consider the possibility that perhaps she hadn’t send them, and they were instead sent by disinformation specialists; I reviewed all 13 accusations with her, and she confirmed she’d written them – even as she stammered to explain some of her more bizarre accusations.

We then had to demand she leave, as she was intent on staying in my home as I’d “promised” to let her, and she even had the gall to suggest I leave.  When she continued refusing, we finally threatened to call the police to remove her and she finally accepted our demands.  But as she left, and we realized to our astonishment that she didn’t have anything at the house other than her small purse – no overnight bags, no toothbrush, no food, no nothing, even though she’d supposedly stayed there the night before and her husband was due there shortly and she desperately wanted to stay there again that night.  But the bed hadn’t even been slept in, and the kitchen was unused.  We assumed she wanted us to leave so we wouldn’t discover this, and she was actually there for some other reason.

As we pondered this, my friend’s phone rang, she answered it and heard silence.  After hanging up, she hit the call back button and was greeted with an office name with “Intelligence” in the title.  My friend and I assumed the woman and her husband were functioning as low-level spies, watching the house so that others could come in (under the guise of repairmen?) to do whatever they do to activists and others on federal “watch” lists.  Perhaps they’d used some high technology to identify and call her phone, perhaps to add a bit of warning to our overload of weird information and seeming threats.

The next day, I called the gas company and was told she had called and a repair person had come out, but no gas leak was found, and the stove never did have problems.

I used my cell phone to call the phone company because the home phone still did not work.  When the repairman came out the next day, he worked for two hours and finally concluded, “This is the strangest problem I’ve ever seen in my 20 years of phone repair, and I can’t figure it out.”  And he rewired most of the house.

My cat never showed any signs of illness.

A few days later, another phone repairman appeared at the front door.  I called Qwest to confirm he was legit, and was told something vague I don’t remember, even as I realized the feds certainly have the ability to intercept my call, redirect it to their own office, and have someone pose as a phone company rep, telling me whatever I needed to hear.  I let the guy in.

He checked the phone jacks, then went outside and climbed a ladder to the box attached near the roof line.  I wondered if I’d detect him putting a bug on my line, so I stood beneath and watched.  He talked and seemed to be wasting time, repeating motions, and getting impatient with me standing there looking up constantly.  I smiled and asked him if he was finished.  He looked confused and irritated.  Laughter was close, but I had no desire to mock a fed.  I also knew I couldn’t stop them if they wanted to put a bug on my line, and if he didn’t do it today, they’d do it another day soon, and it might be less fun next time.  So I walked around the corner, gave him a minute, then came back to find him climbing down, looking relieved.  Ever since, my old-style ringer phone makes a little noise a few seconds after every time I hang up, and around 10 pm every night, which I think of as shift-change, and maybe other times I haven’t yet noticed.

The woman and her husband, I later learned, went to live with a young, hip couple out in the Mimbres, whose friends overlapped with mine, but whom I only knew because the husband clerked at a store I frequent, a store central to my community.  Immediately, the man quit being friendly with me and instead acted as though I were a terrible person he could barely be civil to. And in following years, a number of their acquaintances have continued to keep distant even though we have many friends and interests in common.

I assumed the woman had told the young couple poisonous things about me.  But I didn’t know them well enough to try to discover what they’d been told, and my questions might be received as very weird.  It was very weird, and I didn’t trust anyone to accept it at face value without having to reconsider a lot of assumptions and probably wonder also if I was just plain crazy, so I said nothing to anyone except the two friends who each witnessed part of the event.

Every so often, about once a year, people on the edges of my community suddenly act cold or confused around me, as if they’d heard something terrible and didn’t know whether they should even acknowledge me.  I notice quite a few people all change at once and continue in the pattern for some weeks or months, until slowly the awkwardness fades a little, but doesn’t go entirely away.  I just stay away from them, to lessen their discomfort and mine.

I sometimes review the experiences of friendly acquaintances turning away or looking fearful and try to convince myself the events are not significant, but they seem to display a consistent pattern.  And then there’s the other parallel evidence:  the woman at my house with no personal possessions, her emails full of lies and inflammatory accusations, and my phone line mysteriously wired.  And mysterious Taser burns and similar wounds on my very own body keep me from dismissing my total experience as imagination – as some friends, family, and doctors would like me to.

See-no-evil-hear-no-evil-speak-no-evil-monkeys-14750406-1600-1200I’d love to dismiss it as imagination and believe in a different America, but that’s not my experience.  For 8 years now, I’ve been asking my online readers, and no one has come up with any explanation better than the one that’s supported by government documents:  federal agents practice disinformation, harass, encourage divisiveness, and more, under the rubric of COINTELPRO (Counter Intelligence Program).

Recently I learned there’s a name for people like me: “targeted individuals” – abbreviated TI’s, with multiple websites documenting experiences of many others who describe things similar to mine.

Beware of lies.  If you hear something bad about a person, check it with the person it’s about.

Only once in these nine years has a friend checked a rumor about me with me; it was a lie, and she’d believed it for six months (it sounded reasonable) and even passed it on to others herself during that time.  I told her the truth as I understood it and asked her to pass it back onto the grapevine.  I don’t know if she did or how well it traveled.

Disinformation is usually planted in such a way and with people removed from the target just enough that it’s very difficult (and no likely to be successful) for the TI to confront the perpetrator.  Only the people in the middle – those told the lie – can do anything about it – by wising up, and checking.  Thanks for doing that.

Historic video on MKULTRA by ABC

In 1979, ABC did an investigative story, 47 minutes long and fairly comprehensive.  Those days, video production wasted no time, so this is dense, well documented, and powerful – even though the reporter denies the possibility that Mind Kontrol is happening, he clearly presents a case to make one believe it was – or would be soon.

This is the history foundational to my experience.  The woman patient, Val Orlikow, speaks for many of us, not eloquently, but with her attempts – the unspeakable incomprehension that someone could do this to us.

For many of us today, it’s all that plus two more incomprehensions that Val, fortunate for her, didn’t have:  She didn’t have people ignore her or tell her it didn’t happen.  And she didn’t fear that it would happen again tomorrow.

Oh yeah, and she was compensated, not only with affirmation and emotional support, but – I assume – with some sort of disability payments.  Few of us in the United States get what we deserve – not for our service, not for our healing needs, not for our retirement.  We are used and thrown away.

I try not to take it personally.  I think it’s just the times.  Everyone alive today is learning lessons.  I believe the point of our current cultural insanity is that we learn that capitalism, making money the bottom line of our life, will result in abominable treatment of humans by other humans, including attempts to control by all means.

Some of us were born into the heart of the Heart of that Darkness.  I trust and pray it is for some good purpose.  For me, I think, at least, it’s to let you know.

 

A Petition to: BAN ELECTRONIC WARFARE ON CIVILIANS

First published at GardenHealingChurch.org.  (I keep thinking this is the last post on this site, but here’s one more.)

This petition, http://www.ipetitions.com/petition/synergy, and all the people commenting on it – inspired me to comment too, and I ended up writing a short essay that presents my story briefly, so I’ll share it here with a few photos added:

Bombed car sm

After doing media work for the historic “Judi Bari vs FBI” federal trial, in which the feds were found guilty of charges related to an assassination attempt on Judi Bari, my lifelong mind control torment has been seriously amped up.

IMG_1725I’ve woken with Taser burns, a burn on the back of my neck – both third-degree with skin burned off – scoop marks, injection bruises, “donut” bruises, lacerations and punctures in my vagina, healed scars including one my doctor thought was a thyroid surgery scar, total exhaustion, and occasionally dealings that seemed to be with aliens (which could be induced hallucinations or real).   

After 13 years of freaking out and being suicidal about my mind control, I’m beginning to see that it’s not a simple horror – it’s actually everything and everywhere.  And it may not be human.  Everything in nature is under control of many things.  Mind control begins with DNA and the elements like weather, then language and our calendar, then economics, laws, education, government, etc.  And eventually science did to people what it’s done to the Earth – turned everything into a resource.  We are human resources; they’ve been honest in calling us that!  We’ve heard it and shrugged.  Now we’re realizing it’s full implications, and it’s shocking.  One more major trauma in the history of humanity.  (Think back:  much of history is trauma.)

Without hope in the other realms, we on Earth have been reduced to resources, regardless that we’ve been led along with lies about freedom, human rights, etc.  If we only have this Earth life in which to hope, then we must toe Their line or be seriously punished.

[Can we tell them (since they’re spying and listening all the time), “Hey, I change my mind.  I’ll quit whistle blowing [or whatever] and join you”? if we’re willing to sacrifice our beliefs for relief (as it seems others must be doing)?  I don’t know.  I’ve gone to that edge and wondered, but haven’t crossed it.]

Mostly, I believe I have Helpers in other realms who rescue or resuscitate me now and then, though I do have to suffer indignities and pain and loss of will to live and sheer energy to live – way more often than I sometimes think I have the spirit to sustain, but then my Helpers bring me back.  (Or might it be the controllers, keeping me alive for another day? I don’t know. I think I’ll chose the more palatable option, my Helpers.)

It’s a weird life to live.  Good thing I know we have other lifetimes, so I can feel less attached to this one.  It helps to step into the role of Witness.  We are witnesses of an incredible time in human history – from the deepest darkest inside, which few see and fully understand, but we do.  There’s something important in our role, as witnesses regarding human evolution.  It’s incredibly lonely because no one wants to hear, but it’s important.  And one day, maybe on another realm, we’ll help others understand how this came about, so maybe we can help protect the future.  Don’t know.  Playing with ideas.  Imagining from a higher height….

As far as this world right now, though, I’ve quit believing we can change anything through political action, like this petition – BUT, I know I could be wrong, so I hedge my bets and support causes like this one that encourage us – but I don’t see the possibility in America anymore.  On the other hand, I KNOW we get help from Other Realms – rarely when we think it’s due, but enough.

And that’s another silver lining:  having lost all hope in this Earth insanity, we are forced to cut our emotional connections to Earth life and look beyond.  Atheists, I know, will hate this, but I do appreciate that this pain does send me into other realms where I believe it is important to connect, and I don’t otherwise, as least not as often as would probably be good for me, because Earth happenings and all the entertainment is way too entrancing.  It’s almost like our mind control tortures us so badly that we are saved from the mainstream soul-deadening delusions of the masses, slowly boiling like frogs in a pot; whereas, we are the frogs that jumped out of our mesmerized complacency, thanks to the extra-high heat.

rf-2nd-ed-front-cover-20[I write and video blog about my life and struggles on Paradigm Salon.net, my other sites, and in my book, RattleSnake Fire, called “not only great literature, but an important historical document.”]

Blessings on us all.  Peace, friends.  Please don’t give up too easily.  Remember this world is bigger and more complicated than we can know; and the bully in our life might be about to get whumped by someone bigger.  We don’t know, but we shouldn’t discount it when the stakes are so high – our life.

Also, leaving this life (as many people entertain, including me) may not be an escape, if the other dimensions are extensions of this, as I believe they are.  So it behooves us to develop our extra-dimensional minds, as the only way to see a bigger picture and have a chance.

At the moment, we are in trauma at the hands of the most Powerful people on Earth; therefore our only salvation is beyond this Earth, where we can’t go, or beyond this dimension, which we can.  I conclude: it’s time to develop our extra-dimensional minds.

pablo amaringo Llullon Llaki Supai

I hope this helps someone.  Compassion for all.

Secretly forced brain implants Pt 1: Explosive court case

da62e5e01c418e92b61ab3262f6b1d05_3.jpegA two-part article with detailed info (6 years old, but….) about evidence that went to court!

http://www.examiner.com/article/
secretly-forced-brain-implants-pt-1-explosive-court-case#ixzz1eHdKChiT

“Multiple” no longer

Quick note:  my last post about the movie “Karla,” was actually written last May and and  after finding it randomly, I thought I was just giving it a quick edit, rather than sending it out “new” to everyone.  Not to worry, Friends!  I’m not having the difficult time I was when I wrote that first paragraph last May!  Things are quite okay.  Now on to today’s post….

The_Three_Faces_of_Eve_-_1957_-_poster

1957 movie starring Joanne Woodward and Lee J Cobb

I just decided I will never again begin my story by calling myself multiple.

Technically, I believe I am – but I am very different from a “natural” multiple; I am a created multiple, and there’s a HUGE difference.

My alters (alternate personalities) do not (usually) switch spontaneously, and they are not extreme personalities representing personal repressed urges; rather, they are carefully designed “programs” which come out (usually) only on command, therefore my life does not display the crazy experiences of the multiple that’s been presented lately by the media, such as, for instance, the Netflix show I tried to watch the other day, The United States of Tara.  The show embarrassed me terribly because I guess it’s what most people think all multiples are.

But created multiples are very tame, even normal, in their social and work lives – as that serves the Controllers’ purpose perfectly.  For instance, I have never received any feedback from anyone that I have remarkable changes in personality beyond the common mood changes that everyone has under normal or even stressful conditions.  If I do switch, it’s not so dramatic that anyone has ever remarked on it – even after years of posting publicly and inviting comment and feedback on this in particular.  On the contrary, employers and other people have usually responded to me as though they perceive me as a trustworthy, talented, and dependable person (until lately – another story). Therefore, I assume I “present” to the world as fairly normal, or acceptable.

When I have acted like a multiple in public has been only a few times since grade school.  And those were all times of extreme stress, such as when a stranger was trying to break down my door, and I suddenly behaved as though I had martial arts training (I guess one of my alters has), in particular in using a knife to kill.  I was ready, bouncing on my toes, gauging where he’d fall when the door broke, bouncing the big knife in my hand, and imagining how I would arc it up under his rib cage with force!  Thank Goodness the guy didn’t get in.

The times I feel multiple most often – very often, actually – are when I’m home alone or with someone who’s also controlled.  And then I don’t do anything surprising; rather, I simply perceive things: sometimes I’ve perceived two alters looking at each other, or I feel as though someone is downloading information into my brain.  I’ve woken with IMG_1725bruises, burns, and other weird marks on my body (hundreds), and woken up in such absolute exhaustion that getting out of bed was extremely difficult and I didn’t recover for more than a day.  Sometimes I hear tones in my head which either wake me from sleep or put me to sleep or don’t seem to do anything I can explain.

All these experiences support the theory held by many that some of us have been mind controlled and continue to be at least monitored, but probably also used for whatever Top Secret projects our programming was created for – which is done under amnesia, so I have absolutely no memories other than the accidental slips, like the martial arts slip to save my life.

The result of it all is that I have a fairly cohesive functioning, sometimes awkward but good enough to survive, maintaining a decent front – most important – hiding an unknown number of secret alters that I don’t know anything about except, theoretically, that they serve the Controllers – at night, when no one else is around.

Because my programming was based on what the Controllers learned from multiple personality, and they used those mental defense mechanisms, my body/mind learned them too on a subconscious level – and sometimes I have “naturally” split off alters during extreme stress, such as being raped – therefore, I have another layer of alters that are “natural” rather than programmed.  And these alters do cause me a bit of memory issues, and sometimes slowness in social situations (slow because my mind is bouncing between different points of view), but those issues are minor compared with the nighttime events directed by Controllers.

When I’m with other people, the Controllers keep quiet, and I can lead a normal life.  At home, alone, or with another person who can be controlled, the Controllers may at any time, certainly without notice to me, call out the alters who hide during the day.

So I have a private life that can be highjacked anytime and leave me exhausted, with wounds, and in need of recovery time, but during the day, and with friends and family, no one is out but “me” – or a few of my naturally created, but not flamboyant, alters.  [As always, if anyone has witnessed different, I’m waiting to learn about it.  Please tell me!  And I’ll adjust my theory here.]

The new language I want to use instead of “multiple” will not really be new, it’ll be simply “mind controlled.”  Because the common image of multiples just doesn’t match my life – which is tame and boring compared to Tara.

Ugh, the computer makes me sick

I think I’ll take down this site.  Even if it helps people, or we think it does, it might also further tether that person to the computer as if it’s the source of Help.

Our Source is outside, and inside, but… not in the screen, except occasionally, if we’re lucky.

Let’s go to our communities of friends, plants, animals, and Others.

Bye ~

Current Day Abuse – When Dissociative Survivors are Trapped, Owned, and Exploited as Adults

Photo credit: TheLionProject.org and www.beforeitsnews.com

This is re-posted from Discussion Dissociation, the exact page here:
http://discussingdissociation.com/
2009/02/10/current-day-abuse-%E2%80%93-when-dissociative-survivors-are-trapped-owned-and-exploited-as-adults/

Below is the blog in full, except for a video which you can view on Kathy’s site, at the link above.

Dissociative Identity Disorder is created from severe, chronic child abuse, but does that abuse automatically stop in childhood?

Unfortunately, no, it does not.

All too many survivors continue to be trapped in abusive environments long after their childhood has ended.  Sometimes this abuse continues with the same family-related perpetrators that abused the survivor all throughout the childhood years.  For example, far too many adult children of creepy-fathers are still being sexually abused into adulthood.

Creepy-fathers don’t necessarily stop being sex offenders just because their children get older.  These lifelong predators already know how to manipulate your dissociative system, and they will continue to “call out” and dominate the child parts that they controlled for all the years previous.  The child parts don’t necessarily realize that they are in an adult body, or that years of time have passed, so it still feels like more of the same to them.

Typically, in situations such as these, the dissociative walls that separate those abused child parts and the adult host can still be locked solidly in place, allowing no seepage of information to pass through.  The adult DID survivor may not have any conscious awareness that they are still being abused in this way.

This strong photo was found at http://shaylinjanelle.tumblr.com/page/2

Scary.
And sad.
But true, far too often.

Sometimes, the ongoing abuse is more organized than in-home family abuse.  The sex slave industries can use, own, control, sell, and exploit dissociative survivors for many years.

Slavery didn’t end with the Civil War – it just became more hidden.

One of the current ways that slavery still exists — even in 2009 — is through the entrapment of the dissociative population.   Various prostitution / pornography organizations can “own” and exploit survivors by using physical violence, emotional blackmail, drugs, mind control techniques, and dissociation as means to maintain their power and control.  Extricating these dissociative prisoners from these organized predators is a complicated and complex process, but possible nonetheless.

Dark side. Light side. What are you blocking out? This powerful image found at http://shaylinjanelle.tumblr.com/page/2 .

Adult trauma survivors with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) have had years upon years of experience managing severe trauma while simultaneously blocking themselves off from the reality of that trauma.   Dissociative walls can provide an element of amnesia that both protects the person from the overwhelming crushing awareness of ongoing abuse, but also traps the survivor in an ongoing continuation of that abuse.

If dissociative survivors have current-day chunks of missing time blocked from their awareness, they cannot know what happened to them, but they also cannot remove themselves or protect themselves from the ongoing trauma and abuse.  Without effective therapy and treatment, they also cannot remember or control the fact that they could be handing over their children to be used in the same abusive ways by the very same perpetrator groups.

Unfortunately, we all know that the kiddie porn industry is alive and well.

Dissociative survivors that grew up being used and sold within the kiddie porn industry are at a higher risk of continuing to be owned by, and forced to work for that industry even as adults.

This powerful photo of emotional pain and inner turmoil was taken by ShaylinJanelle photography. http://shaylinjanelle.tumblr.com

When DID survivors are involved in current day abuse, it is imperative to break down the amnesiac walls created through dissociative processes.  The survivors have to have the courage to look at what they are involved with, and then have even more courage to problem-solve their way out.

Dissociative survivors trapped in other kinds of family violence and domestic violence are vulnerable in these same ways.

Trauma therapists must be aware of these possibilities so they can actively work with the dissociative population in order to assist them to gain freedom from ongoing abuse.  Therapy with a strong emphasis on increasing internal communication and lowering amnesiac barriers is essential.

Therapists need to use basic good trauma therapy while doing this work. Listen closely to the inside parts, help sooth the pain, create both internal and external safety, reconnect the isolated parts with the rest of the system, address the concerns raised by those internal parts in all the normal ways, etc.  Many of the very same processes that work to help heal “regular abuse” continue to be effective in addressing more extreme abuses.

***  To all dissociative survivors —
You don’t have to stay stuck in the abuse cycles.  If youDon't Go Back are able to read this post, you are able to do the work it takes to remove yourself from any ongoing abuse that you are tangled in.    Of course, your perpetrators won’t tell you that you can get out, but you can get out and away from them anyway.  You are older, wiser, and stronger than you were when you were just a child.  You can find ways that will work for you, you can find  safe people to help you, and you can be safe.  Talk lots and lots to your inside people – it’s only as you work together as a team that you can beat the external controls.  It takes a lot of hard work, but if you all really want to be free from abuse and safe from harm, you can be.  It can happen.

Warmly,

Kathy

Acting Like Things are Normal

smile_hide_overwhelmedWritten in September 2014, forgotten, just discovered:

So, this is what it’s like to live on a planet with everyone overwhelmed and mind controlled.  I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.

~ Ineffective Governments

~ Corporate control of governments and economies

~ Economies very vulnerable

~ Poverty and malnutrition growing

~ Most water poisoned or sources destroyed

~ Land poisoned from pole to pole

~ Air polluted

~ Food genes modified to not reproduce

~ Weather apparently manipulated

~ The “free press” controlled by corporations

~ Families and cultures fragmented

~ Individuals isolated

~ Justice system racist and classist

~ Prisons corporatized and growing

~ Mind control extensive

~ Assassinations common and ignored

~ Terror constant around the globe

~ Slavery, including child and sexual slavery, growing and ignored

~ Wars and threats of war

~ Biological and technological weapons beyond our understanding

~ Local communities militarized

~ Warrantless searches and secret courts

~ Pervasive spying

~ Earthquakes and toxic water from fracking

~ Most Americans, and many children, on mood-altering drugs

~ Electronic gadgets offering custom-made entertainment instantly, constantly, and inexpensively.

So, why are we still talking to politicians?

 

Because we’re dependent on their system.

I am absolutely certain we cannot negotiate or fight our way out of this.

So I have two hopes for survival:

yy121) The two opposing, entwining forces on this planet will be in such disharmony that we will break apart into two different dimensions, each in our own vibration.  Those who believe in slavery or are willing to be controlled by others will go one place, and those who appreciate the stability and endurance of diverse ecosystems, noted for mutuality, and cooperation – and who have made it part of their life to nurture those qualities – will go into another dimension.

Sorta like the Rapture.  Or sorta like I once heard that Hopi mothers tell their children, “One day, the bad people will just be gone.”  So many prophecies of endings and new beginnings….

Or maybe it’ll just end in some manner beyond our imagination.

Maybe we’re in the process of it now, as many suggest by way of encouragement.  Maybe we’re in the grasping death throes of a dying culture, and we simply must be patient – and keep practicing cooperation.

2) Or maybe we’re learning something from this horror of watching an entire planet under threat (though we in the United States remain relatively well for now, relatively oblivious of the masses at war and dying).

What if we’re souls being taught to be responsible by having our actions reflected back on us collectively?

Since we keep animals in pens, “They” put some of us in pens.  We feed animals our waste; They feed us crap.  We treat animals like things; They treat us like things.

Could this be a house-of-mirrors dimension, and if we’d change our ways, our conditions would improve?

This theory has a certain elegance, but it’s rather constructed.  On the other hand, there do seem to be dimensions of reality that are constructed, if you believe the shamans, which I do.  Dimensions of inorganic beings, thought forms, memes, mathematics, fractals, etc.  So, like Carlos Castaneda trapped in the world of the inorganic beings, our entire planet might be trapped by an idea (capitalism?) – an idea that, unfortunately, reflects back on us and hurts.  It resonates with me sometimes as too true a possibility.

If that’s the case, then the tales of Jesus and other aliens returning to rescue, save, or rapture us seems hopeful.  I resonate with Christ, so I pray he picks up my signal and has me in his plans.  I’ve promoted cooperative living most of my life, so I’ll accept a rescue from my spirit family, if that turns out to be the reality.

3) yy12Okay, one more:  The worst, most evil-feeling thought I have cross my mind sometimes is that the System, evil as we think it is, is intrinsic to human evolution.  It’s half the driving force of things, just like the yin-yang symbol.  Just like a tree, half in light, half undergound, consuming dead things.

And just like the human body can’t have toe cells demanding a better gig, we gotta have people who fulfill their jobs exactly, and if it takes mind control, then so be it.

(I could almost talk myself into the necessity of this, except that the System is systematically destroying the planet and devastating souls.)

I can understand Life including Death, but I think we can evolve without the depths of depravity we have here.

On the other hand, if all this nastiness turns out to be actually necessary for our evolution, then I have to let go of my idea of the Creative Force as a thing of elegance, harmony, and love.

On the other hand again, there’s an awful lot on Earth that is explosive, crashing, rotten….and it’s natural and seems necessary.  So maybe this is just life, and we’re supposed to accept it.  Ugh.  As I said, Worst theory.

4) Finally, I can accept that, since we are genetic experiments, we might just be too imperfect, too much trouble as Enlil thought (and Jehovah), and they’ve been threatening to wipe us off the planet for thousands of years.  We’re Their herd, crop, failed genetic experiment, facing our end.

Now, they might keep a few good slaves or other useful specimens, in which case there’s nothing I want to do but convince them I’d be way too much trouble and they don’t want me.  I believe our souls have other lives beyond this one, so I’ll emerge somewhere; doesn’t have to be here….

If I think of more reasons for hope, I’ll add them.  What are yours?

Earth Being?

smithsonianWritten long ago, and just discovered:  

As someone who used to call herself an “Earth First!er,” I have a very difficult thing to say:

I no longer believe we’re supposed to necessarily remain on this planet, Earth.

Yeah, this is shocking to me too.

But consider this:

~ All the planet’s water is poisoned and major sources destroyed

~ The land is poisoned from pole to pole

~ The air is polluted by multiple sources, including chemtrails

~ Food genes have been modified to not reproduce

~ Weather is apparently manipulated

~ Fracking is causing earthquakes and toxic water in wells and springs

And that’s just what’s been done to the planet.  We humans also face:

~ Multiple concurrent wars

~ Biological and technological weapons beyond our understanding

~ Warrantless searches and secret courts

~ Pervasive spying on everyone

~ Ineffective governments, rigged elections, and rigged voting booths

~ Corporations controlling governments and economies

~ Economies unjust and vulnerable beyond anyone’s imagination

~ Poverty and malnutrition growing everywhere, including in the US

~ The “free press” controlled by corportions

~ Families and cultures fragmented

~ Individuals isolated

~ Justice system racist and arbitrary

~ Prisons corporatized and growing

~ Mind control happening on multiple levels

~ Assassinations common and not investigated

~ Slavery, including sexual and child slavery, growing

~ Local communities militarized

~ Major figures guilty of child sex slavery not investigated

~ Most Americans, and many children, on mood/mind-altering drugs

~ And:  Lots of electronic gadgets offering custom-made entertainment instantly, constantly, and inexpensively.

And everyone continues to act like things are normal!  

And good-hearted people (like me) continue to try to work for good causes like protecting our local water source from destruction, but we waste our time asking politicians to act in the public good.  

That’s insane.  And then we do nothing more, as if we’ve “acted.”  Arghhhh! to political action.

~

Psychopathology is the word most commonly used today to describe the people pulling all the strings on the planet today, but I’m not sure.  It could be psychopathology, but I think there could be another reason.

The gods may have decided (again) it is time to clear the planet of humankind  So, just as a gardener clears a flower bed, or a cook super-cleans a cutting board, a lot of life is getting disrupted, but the web of life will re-heal.

We think those destroying the planet are psychopaths, but maybe they are no more than we are to the microbes in our soil.

~

I get glimpses now and then that some vibrational current will soon separate from the ugly energies on the planet, and we’ll relax and live out in another dimension, Heaven on Earth.

But this “dimensional shift” theory may only be the only way I can imagine staying on this planet. As Earth seems to be becoming unfit for life – fulfilling ancient prophecies from across the globe.

Bummer.  I hate to confirm such devastating ideas, and the ring of religion only makes it worse. But at least I don’t keep talking to psychopathic politicians, trying to convince them to have a heart.

Still, I’ll hold out hope that I’m wrong, and the Life-giving will soon overpower the Death-dealing.

Prophesy and Money-ism

Wrote last June, just re-discovered:

I had a vision this evening of a cockroach burrowing into moist earth, working to turn dead things into more easily digestible other things to feed the roots of plants.

I “hate” roaches, but I saw tonight how essential they are to Life.  They’re the clean-up guys.

I wondered, “Why are you showing this to me?” and the answer came:

Because you humans are in the process of being cleaned up.

What?  Did I invent that last part?

What do you think?  Are humans in the process of being cleansed from this Earth?  Too many of us are too violent, reckless with the planet, and reckless with each other.  So, just like the Sumerian god Enlil and, later, the Hebrew god Jehovah both threatened, are our days numbered?  Will most of us be composted, like kitchen scraps, for roaches?

After those few survivors made it through the flood, so the stories go, neither Enlil nor Jehovah were too enthusiastic about giving humans another chance.  They agreed, but made it clear, especially in the Christian “Book of Revelation,” that we’re on probation.  Jehovah was going to see how we did for 1,000 years, and maybe he’d extend it another 1,000, but no more.  And here we are.

And now Dad’s not happy with our behavior.  And he promised to destroy us.

As should be, as any gardener knows.  Some crops you don’t want to save the seed from.  Some seed you burn, like Yeshua said.

Am I inventing this?  Please tell me I am.

Kissinger, I hear, called 95% of us useless eaters; and many forecast a 95% die-off on Earth soon.  And it sure seems they’re planning – no, executing right now – plans to assure the greatest certainty that most of us will die, with our food seeds infected with terminal genes, honeybees going instinct, and our water sources poisoned or polluted and recently mixed with oil from fracking operations all across our nation.  They’ve compromised all the most important aspects of our survival.

Reminds me of the tens of thousands of Sumerian clay tablets of history, in which the god Enlil intended to kill humans with a flood and did kill most, a story told all over the Earth, including in the Hebrew account.  Human remnants survived and promised to please their Creator, but I have a suspicion we have not.

Now, the threats of the gods always embarrassed me, especially as delivered by preachers –  but destroying our culture seems like a very appropriate thing to do, given that we’ve destroyed the environment and torment each other so.  It might be what I’d do if I were head gardener of Earth.

But I don’t understand how the people who are the worst offenders are doing the job that I imagine God would do.  Why are they playing the role of the Gardner’s plow?  

I trust in the idea of many lifetimes, and assume this destruction is simply of human genetics, and the soul essence continues on the learning path.

So, this vision isn’t so bad after all.  We’re just about to lose our physical bodies.  And that might be the best thing for our souls right now.  A lot of us are hurting in this terrible place.  Greed, in the form of capitalism, has twisted our minds, and it’s time for us to retreat from this dimension and think about the nature of money and keeping track of each other like that rather than just taking care of each other.

We’ve wasted far more of our life energy competing with others and keeping track of it all (banking, accounting, investing, bookkeeping, printing money and checks and ledgers, insurance, cash registers, grant writing, advertising, etc.) than we feared we might lose if we simply gave to others.

Money competition might have been an interesting test, but I think we’ve all seen that it has been disastrous, and I trust we’ll devise a whole new approach to “economy” in our next lives.  I look forward to that.

My pathway through this human period of history has been especially turbulent, and I’ve seen the darkest underbelly of capitalism – in which children are sold for perverse entertainment.

Money-ism is weird when you think about it:  money (easily manipulable) acts as the “blind” guideline for all our social interactions.  Which is horrifying when pedophiles steal children, abuse them, put them on show, and often murder them, because there is someone willing and able to pay a network of police, judges, and other criminals a great deal of money.

Someone should have foreseen that coming.

But no one did, and now we have the world we’re living in, and it’s not something the head gardener wants to keep dealing with.  Season’s over.  And very little seed, so the prophesies say, will be saved.

If that’s true, perhaps it’s good.  Because we don’t want this sort of life spreading through the universe.

 

The Decline of America

This is a great article – as far as it goes, as far as most Americans can take it.  If this is true, then it’s hard to have faith that any justice will appear for any of us victims.  

http://www.nationofchange.org/exceptional-decline-exceptional-country-1405350344

An Exceptional Decline for an Exceptional Country?

For America’s national security state, this is the age of impunity.  Nothing it does — torture, kidnapping, assassination, illegal surveillance, you name it — will ever be brought to court.  For none of its beyond-the-boundaries acts will anyone be held accountable.  The only crimes that can now be committed in official Washington are by those foolish enough to believe that a government of the people, by the people, and for the people shall not perish from this earth.  I’m speaking of the various whistleblowers and leakers who have had an urge to let Americans know what deeds and misdeeds their government is committing in their name but without their knowledge.  They continue to pay a price in accountability for their acts that should, by comparison, stun us all.

As June ended, the New York Times front-paged an account of an act of corporate impunity that may, however, be unique in the post-9/11 era (though potentially a harbinger of things to come).  In 2007, as journalist James Risen tells it, Daniel Carroll, the top manager in Iraq for the rent-a-gun company Blackwater, one of the warrior corporations that accompanied the U.S. military to war in the twenty-first century, threatened Jean Richter, a government investigator sent to Baghdad to look into accounts of corporate wrongdoing.

Here, according to Risen, is Richter’s version of what happened when he, another government investigator, and Carroll met to discuss Blackwater’s potential misdeeds in that war zone:

“Mr. Carroll said ‘that he could kill me at that very moment and no one could or would do anything about it as we were in Iraq,’ Mr. Richter wrote in a memo to senior State Department officials in Washington. He noted that Mr. Carroll had formerly served with Navy SEAL Team 6, an elite unit. ‘Mr. Carroll’s statement was made in a low, even tone of voice, his head was slightly lowered; his eyes were fixed on mine,’ Mr. Richter stated in his memo. ‘I took Mr. Carroll’s threat seriously. We were in a combat zone where things can happen quite unexpectedly, especially when issues involve potentially negative impacts on a lucrative security contract.’”

When officials at the U.S. Embassy in Baghdad, the largest in the world, heard what had happened, they acted promptly.  They sided with the Blackwater manager, ordering Richter and the investigator who witnessed the scene out of the country (with their inquiry incomplete).  And though a death threat against an American official might, under other circumstances, have led a CIA team or a set of special ops guys to snatch the culprit off the streets of Baghdad, deposit him on a Navy ship for interrogation, and then leave him idling in Guantanamo or in jail in the United States awaiting trial, in this case no further action was taken.

Power Centers But No Power to Act

Think of the response of those embassy officials as a get-out-of-jail-free pass in honor of a new age.  For the various rent-a-gun companies, construction and supply outfits, and weapons makers that have been the beneficiaries of the wholesale privatization of American war since 9/11, impunity has become the new reality.  Pull back the lens further and the same might be said more generally about America’s corporate sector and its financial outfits.  There was, after all, no accountability for the economic meltdown of 2007-2008.  Not a single significant figurewent to jail for bringing the American economy to its knees. (And many such figures made out like proverbial bandits in the government bailout and revival of their businesses that followed.)

Meanwhile, in these years, the corporation itself was let loose to run riot.  Long a “person” in the legal world, it became ever more person-like, benefitting from a series of Supreme Court decisions that hobbled unions and ordinary Americans even as it gave the corporation ever more of the rights and attributes of a citizen on the loose.  Post-9/11, the corporate world gained freedom of expression, the freedom of the purse, as well as the various freedoms that staggering inequality and hoards of money offer.  Corporate entities gained, among other things, the right to flood the political system with money, and most recently, at least in a modest way, freedom of religion.

In other words, two great power centers have been engorging themselves in twenty-first-century America: there was an ever-expanding national security state, ever less accountable to anyone, ever less overseen by anyone, ever more deeply enveloped in secrecy, ever more able to see others and less transparent itself, ever more empowered by a secret court systemand a body of secret law whose judgments no one else could be privy to; and there was an increasingly militarized corporate state, ever less accountable to anyone, ever less overseen by outside forces, ever more sure that the law was its possession.  These two power centers are now triumphant in our world.  They command the landscape against what may be less effective opposition than at any moment in our history.

Article image

In both cases, no matter how you tote it up, it’s been an era of triumphalism.  Measure it any way you want: by the rising Dow Jones Industrial Average or the expanding low-wage economy, by the power of “dark money” to determine American politics in 1% elections or the rising wages of CEOs and the stagnating wages of their workers, by the power of billionaires and the growth of poverty, by the penumbra of secrecy and classification spreading across government operations and the lessening ability of the citizen to know what’s going on, or by the growing power of both the national security state and the corporation to turn your life into an open book.  Look anywhere and some version of the same story presents itself — of ascendant power in the boardrooms and the backrooms, and of a sense of impunity that accompanies it.

Whether you’re considering the power of the national security state or the corporate sector, their moment is now.  And what a moment it is — for them.  Their success seems almost complete.  And yet that only begins to tell the strange tale of our American times, because if that power is ascendant, it seems incapable of being translated into classic American power.  The more successful those two sectors become, the less the U.S. seems capable of wielding its power effectively in any traditional sense, domestically or abroad.

Anyone can feel it, hence the recent Pew Research Center poll indicating a striking diminution in recent years of Americans who think the U.S. is exceptional, the greatest of all nations.  By 2011, only 38% of Americans thought that; today, the figure has dropped to 28%, and — a harbinger of future American attitudes — just 15% among 18-to-29-year-olds.  And no wonder.  By many measures the U.S. may remain the wealthiest, most powerful nation on the planet, but in recent years its ability to accomplish anything, no less achieve national or imperial success, has shrunk drastically.

The power centers remain, but in some still-hard-to-grasp way, the power to accomplish anything seems to be draining from a country that was once the great can-do nation on the planet.  On this, the record is both dismal and clear.  To say that the American political system is in a kind of gridlock or paralysis from which — given electoral prospects in 2014 and 2016 — there can be no escape is to say the obvious.  It’s a commonplace of news reports to suggest, for example, that in this midterm election year Congress and the president will be capable of accomplishing nothing together (except perhaps avoiding another actual government shutdown).  Nada, zip, zero.

The president acts in relatively minimalist ways by executive order, Congress threatens to sueover his use of those orders, and (as novelist Kurt Vonnegut would once have said) so it goes.  In the meantime, Congress has proven itself unable to act even when it comes to what once would have been the no-brainers of American life.  It has, for instance, been struggling simply to fund a highway bill that would allow for ordinary repair work on the nation’s system of roads, even though the fund for such work is running dry and jobs will be lost.

This sort of thing is but a symptom in a country of immense wealth whose infrastructure is crumbling and which lacks a single mile of high-speed rail.  In all of this, in the rise of poverty and a minimum-wage economy, in a loss — particularly for minorities — of the wealth that went with home ownership, what can be seen is the untracked rise of a Third World country inside a First World one, a powerless America inside the putative global superpower.

An Exceptional Kind of Decline

And speaking of the “sole superpower,” it remains true that no combination of other militaries can compare with the U.S. military or the moneys the country continues to put into it and into the research and development of weaponry of the most futuristic sort.  The U.S. national security budget remains a Ripley’s-Believe-It-Or-Not-style infusion of tax dollars into the national security state, something no other combination of major countries comes close to matching.

In addition, the U.S. still maintains hundreds of military bases and outposts across the planet (including, in recent years, ever more bases for our latest techno-wonder weapon, the drone).  In 2014, it still garrisons the planet in a way that no other imperial power has ever done.  In fact, it continues to sport all the trappings of a great empire, with an army impressive enough that our last two presidents have regularly resorted to one unembarrassed image to describe it: “the finest fighting force that the world has ever known.”

And yet, recent history is clear: that military has proven incapable of winning its wars against minor (and minority) insurgencies globally, just as Washington, for all its firepower, military and economic, has had a remarkably difficult time imposing its desires just about anywhere on the planet.  Though it may still look like a superpower and though the power of its national security state may still be growing, Washington seems to have lost the ability to translate that power into anything resembling success.

Today, the U.S. looks less like a functioning and effective empire than an imperial basket case, unable to bring its massive power to bear effectively from Germany to Syria, Iraq to Afghanistan, Libya to the South China Sea, the Crimea to Africa.  And stranger yet, this remains true even though it has no imperial competitors to challenge it.  Russia is a rickety energy state, capable of achieving its version of imperial success only along its own borders, and China, clearly the rising economic power on the planet, though flexing its military muscles locally in disputed oil-rich waters, visibly has no wish to challenge the U.S. military anywhere far from home.

All in all, the situation is puzzling indeed.  Despite much talk about the rise of a multi-polar world, this still remains in many ways a unipolar one, which perhaps means that the wounds Washington has suffered on numerous fronts in these last years are self-inflicted.

Just what kind of decline this represents remains to be seen.  What does seem clearer today is that the rise of the national security state and the triumphalism of the corporate sector (along with the much publicized growth of great wealth and striking inequality in the country) has been accompanied by a decided diminution in the power of the government to function domestically and of the imperial state to impose its will anywhere on Earth.

For more from Tom Engelhardt’s, click here.

 

American Psychological Association collaborates on Torture Program

The same psychologists who lied about torture during war are also complicit in lying about mind control torturers.  At least Democracy Now has covered the first part:

http://www.democracynow.org/2015/7/13/psychologists_collaborated_with_cia_pentagon_onScreen Shot 2015-07-19 at 3.15.07 PM

 

Major Media Finally Cover Sexual Abuse of Children in “First World”

Thanks to Fred Burks who created the excellent site, WantToKnow.info, who not only provides succinct extracts of well-documented news with the documentation, but who also offers pages to help one cope, pages on finding hope in this crazy world.

If you’re in the mood to read a little more on the sort of MK Ultra child sex trafficking that goes on in the US and everywhere else on the planet, here’s an example on one article linked to from Fred Burks’ site.  Fred compiles his newsletters with summaries, bolding the most important lines for easy skimming, and providing source links:  Glad to see this subject finally covered in the major media!

Abuse Cases in British City Long Ignored

August 27, 2014, New York Times
http://www.nytimes.com/2014/08/27/world/europe/children-in-rotherham…

A report released on [August 26] on accusations of widespread sexual abuse in the northern England city of Rotherham found that about 1,400 minors — some as young as 11 years old — were beaten, raped and trafficked from 1997 to 2013 as the local authorities ignored a series of red flags.  Some children were doused in gasoline and threatened with being set on fire if they reported their abusers. Others were forced to watch rapes and threatened with the same fate.  In more than a third of the cases, the victims appear to have been known to child protection agencies, but the police and local government officials failed to act.  Within hours of the report’s publication, [Roger Stone, the leader of the Rotherham Metropolitan Borough Council since 2003,] resigned.  It was not until 2010 that the first case of child sexual exploitation in Rotherham, a South Yorkshire city of about 250,000 people, made it to court.  Five men received long prison sentences for grooming three teenage girls for sex.  It was one of several high-profile prosecutions over the past four years that revealed sexual exploitation in cities including Oxford, Rochdale and Derby.  Alexis Jay, the author of the report and a former chief inspector of social work, said that vulnerable girls as young as 11 and largely from disadvantaged backgrounds had been brutalized by groups of men.  “They were raped by multiple perpetrators, trafficked to other towns and cities in the north of England, abducted, beaten and intimidated,” she wrote.  The report described the failures of the political and police leadership as blatant.

Note: Further information is available in this story in the UK’s Guardian. For more on this, see concise summaries of deeply revealing sexual abuse scandals news articles from reliable major media sources.

Consider subscribing to Fred’s newsletter.   WantToKnow.info

 

It’s good to know who we are

child not smilingLonely, obedient, good girl, good student, shy, dancer, math and puzzle genius, occasional amnestic, community theater performer, raped, reluctant sorority girl, reluctant beauty queen, college run-away hitchhiker, Jesus hippie, minister’s wife, battered, mother, divorced, children conned away by ex, atheist, woken out of a trance, children returned, degreed in broadcast journalism, UPI award-winning radio reporter, remarried, business owner, PR consultant to social service and activist organizations, board member and president, Permaculture certified, radical activist, pantheist, arrested twice, jailed twice, Tasered twice, news feature “Supermom,” winner of more awards and recognitions, divorced again, child with cancer, offered ownership of $3-4 million birdwatching world-tour business, flashbacks of childhood sexual abuse, nervous breakdown, business offer passed, unable to work, praying again, son healed, aware of dissociative parts, confidant of healing, master of non-fiction creative writing, desert hermit, ayahuasca_visions_pabloamaringobuilder of small passive solar strawbale homerock creek house, experiencer of many things shamanic, including Jesus, memoirist, in love with old high school crush, moved to new city, engaged, a real estate agent, disengaged, award-winning agent, offered six-figure management position (declined), hermit again, UFO experiencer, shamanic initiate, media consultant to successful “Judi Bari v FBI” car-bomb trial,car bomb psychically attacked, suddenly aware of life-long mind control subjection, relieved that life makes sense, terrified, near-suicidal, partnered with teepee-dwelling artist, budding artist in pencil and fiber, repeatedly terrified, mysteriously vaginally cut, heart attack, spiritually healed and encouraged, environmental activist again, solar oven educator, passive solar designer, single again, driven from hermitage by poverty, moved to small town, student of consciousness, Transpersonal Hypnotherapist™, author, mind control activistI Was Onetaser cumysteriously Tasered, mysteriously bruised, healing dissociative splits, encouraged, despairing, home renovator in natural plaster sculpture, passive solar advocate, Permaculture designer, identified with Persephone, enjoying the springIMG_2965, identified with Black ElkUnknown-2, committed to service… old woman.IMG_1725

Captive Dolphins and Mind Control Subjects

dolphin2Wrote last July 11, just discovered and edited it:

June 2015, National Geographic published an article about the reintroduction of dolphins back to the wild after living major parts of their lives in captivity, above and near the surface of the water, eating dead fish from a bucket, on a schedule, and always relating to humans. The article concluded with a photograph of Keiko, dolphin star of the 1993 movie Free Willy, which I never saw, but which popularized the subject of releasing captive dolphins.

Screen Shot 2015-07-16 at 10.30.19 AM            Last week, I watched the 2003 movie Blackfish, about the captive cetaceans at marine parks and the people who run the shows – and their serious misgivings for the roles they’ve played.

I can’t help but wonder when people will be able to acknowledge the human children made captive to mind control experiments around the world, mainly in America.

sleeproom2

Movie based on a lawsuit filed in Canada, in which plaintiffs won a settlement. No suit has ever been accepted by a court in America.

Our needs are similar, but less visible. We too have been made captives, literally caged sometimes, food withheld to gain our compliance, other uncomfortable or torturous methods also imposed. We’ve been ripped from our families, some permanently, others for shorter periods, typically two years at a young age. We’re constantly monitored – for our good, they think, and their scientific study. The controllers have made enormous amounts of money from our ability to perform tricks: spying, soldiering, sexual, and couriering, most of it amnesic. And most of us are unhappy, unhealthy, and neurotic. And many have died or are hospitalized or medicated into oblivion.

From teacherweb.com

From teacherweb.com

Taking captives on planet Earth has a very long history, probably as long as humanity has existed. According to Sumerian history, humans were created as a slave race. Egyptologists tell us that generations of slaves lived their entire lives building the pyramids. Rome is famous for its gladiator displays and slaughtering Christians for entertainment. Native Americans are said to have raided other tribes for slaves, though presumably they treated them much better than the preceding examples.

So why should we be surprised that human captives are still being taken in America?

Because we’ve been told that it doesn’t happen.  Or that it did, but it doesn’t anymore.

18mqxydmchb61jpgBut there’s substantial evidence that it does continue, and the evidence should meet the highest standards for Americans to believe: The Director of the CIA testified to the US Congress twice in the 1970s, admitting the agency’s involvement in mind control experiments, on adults and children, all against their will.  Captives.

Estimates are that 30,000 children were used between the 1940s and 1970s. The CIA Director testified that the program was ceased (though most researchers believe that was a cover-up story), and all the files were destroyed (neatly removing the evidence that would be needed for our personal lawsuits). However, over 100,000 pages of CIA financial documents were later released under the Freedom of Information Act, confirming many details of testimony given to researchers by subjects.

IMG_1725I’m one of those who can’t say for certain that I’m not still being used. At the least, I know I’m still being monitored, as I often wake up with strange marks on my body: circular and donut-shaped bruises, apparent Taser burns, even once a scar identical to thyroid surgery, recognized by my physician – all accompanied by powerful feelings the next day that “Something happened to me in the night” – for which I had no memory.

I can understand scientists wanting to follow through with their experiments. I can understand well-meaning humans wanting to keep track of subjects to monitor their well-being. And I can understand people who’ve been engaged in something of questionable ethics wanting to keep their subjects quiet, and if their subjects insist on making noise (as I do), punishing them or somehow repressing their urges.

Somehow, I’ve come through my ordeal, understanding that one cannot fight this sort of thing. Fighting, I’ve learned, only fuels their psychoses, while protection comes from silence and submission. The Taser gun appears, and all is forgotten. They think.

With age, the amnesic barriers break down, little by little. And the controllers wonder how long they can keep us alive, functional, amnesic, and quiet.  I imagine it’s a tricky balance, with some controllers demanding harsh treatment and others being somewhat kind – like the veterinarian at Sea World, confessing in Screen Shot 2015-07-16 at 10.30.19 AMBlackfish that he hated the work, but wanted to keep taking care of Tilikum, for whom he felt terribly sorry.

There is no open sea into which we mind control subjects can swim away to attempt to regain our lives (except maybe the open sea of the other dimensions at death), and no pod of free humans to accept us (except our friends and family on the other side). So we live our monitored lives as well as we can, and wait for either death or the day that humans will notice, think, feel, and find the resources to help us find a better semblance of freedom.  I am not holding my breath.

Sometimes, I wonder if this idea that we’re all meant to be free is simply not true. Maybe it’s just a platitude, to keep us “pledging allegiance.”  Maybe even the hope for Free Willy is a lie, a charade to keep us all believing.

No, I do believe humans are evolving, and even though we may have a long history of slavery, we are evolving – or trying to evolve – beyond our history. Some are doing their part. Frederick Douglas and Martin Luther King are two of my heroes, and Rosa Parks, whom I actually got to see when she was honored in 1978 or 79 in Louisville, Kentucky, on her 70-somethingth birthday in a public ceremony. I want to believe all these activists and martyrs didn’t suffer and die in vain, though it tests my faith when I see today how blacks are still arrested, beaten and murdered with impunity in the United States, the numbers increasing, and when I have a hard time speaking my truth, even though I’m backed up with US Government Printing Office documents, seeing people turn a deaf ear as though I shouldn’t disturb their equanimity.

On days like those, I think perhaps the quote of the Buddha is correct: Life is suffering.

Or the other platitudes that All is Illusion explains how some live a life like mine while others truly do seem to have full freedom to create to their heart’s content – and it’s only an illusion that we’re all in this life together, “free.”  Many days it’s all just too unreal.

Then a couple of movies inspire us and activate a few.  And somehow I regain hope that we MK subjects will one day be recognized.

Spiral of Silence – The Why

This, re-blogged from NationOfChange.org: http://www.nationofchange.org/spiral-silence-1409364532, slightly edited for brevity, with a comment here and there:

With folks yapping all day on social media, how can there be such a thing as a “spiral of silence” online?

Easy.  Just make the experience of online political debate so disjointed, impersonal and unpleasant that people shut themselves up.  Or they hide out in groupings where everyone says much the same thing. In that case, they’re not debating.

The “spiral of silence” is a theory that people hesitate to say things they believe others in their group won’t agree with. It predates the Internet age.

[And I do it too.]

Let me add that the “spiral of silence” disproportionately affects the shy, the thoughtful and the female.

Social media were supposed to free these cooped-up opinions by offering new venues for speaking one’s piece. But this high-minded promise of a vast online town hall for pensive argument has fallen flat, according to a new report by Pew Research Center and Rutgers University.

If anything, people seem less willing to engage in real back-and-forth about public affairs on websites than they are in old-fashioned personal settings, the researchers found.

We’re talking about politics here, not hiking trips, kitchen renovations, and dog adoptions — but a real hashing out of political differences.

Article image

To find out how the public ranks social media as a place for political debate, the researchers asked questions about Edward Snowden’s leaks of the National Security Agency’s operations. They used this issue because polls found the public fairly divided on the subject.

Only 16 percent of respondents who use Facebook said they’d discuss it there. And only 14 percent of those on Twitter said they’d talk about it on Twitter.

But 40 percent said they’d be willing to debate the matter at a family dinner table and 32 percent at a restaurant with friends.

Why aren’t we doing more political interchange online?  For starters, the Web fragments us into bands of the like-minded.

People with minority views can huddle with others holding the same views, making them feel safer, part of a majority.

Further, online interaction is notoriously devoid of restraints on anti-social behavior — doubly so when creeps hide behind fake identities or go anonymous. Not everyone can laugh at “You are an idiot.” And for the vulnerable, squads of lowlife trolls can multiply the hurt.

Here’s another possible reason for social media’s poor showing as a stage for political debate. How can anyone engage in a serious discussion on Facebook with videos of goats nuzzling monkeys cluttering the feeds, alongside pix of weddings and kayaks?

As for Twitter, how can anything more complicated than the temperature in Chicago be discussed in 140 characters or fewer? What passes on Twitter for political debate is often a battle of links. People offer a link to a longer article or post and then add only a handful of their own words, such as “I agree” or “This guy is right” or “You’re wrong, read this.”

According to the Pew-Rutgers report, people weren’t even using social media for basic information about the Snowden-NSA conflict. Almost 60 percent said that television/radio was one of their sources. Some 34 percent said they used online sources other than social media — mainly the sites of mainstream news organizations, I bet. Only 15 percent sought knowledge on the issue through Facebook, and a mere 3 percent used Twitter.

It all sounds paradoxical, but here we have it: Noise only increases the silence on things that matter to our society.

Copyright Creators.com

My Last Blog Here

This idea has been coming on for a long time.

There’s no reason to write anymore here.

I’ve been withholding a lot in the last year or so anyway, feeling there are things I know that I’m just not willing to commit to print, and so I point out details or tell my experiences, and leave readers to connect the pieces.  But I’ve been withholding more and more recently.

Besides withholding, I spend so many hours trying to communicate intense, multi-dimensional realities in the language of this 3D world, yet have no idea whether my readers are real and I’m helping them, or if I’m writing for mostly agents – or if my words are published as I actually write them.  I’ve seen too many weird things happen on my computer to really want to invest too much more here.

Finally, maybe most important, writing keeps me locked in the past when I could be looking forward and grounding into my present with more attention.

So I’m saying good-bye on this site to spend more time in my garden and art studio, with friends, grounded in my actual world, and better connected to my Helpers.

I’m very tired of this virtual world.

And I recommend my readers also look for what they need inside themselves, in Nature, within their community, and from their Helpers.

I’ll leave this site up for the information it contains, but don’t expect any new blogs here.

If you want to know what I’m doing beyond this, I’ll probably continue to blog every week or so on my other sites – Home & Garden Inspiration, Garden Healing Church, and Jean Eisenhower.com, and the other sites near the bottom of the right column.

~

A bit more on Why:

No one who doesn’t already understand wants to hear this stuff.  They claim their right to not listen because it’s too scary, and their own lives are already filled with more drama than they can handle, or if it’s not, they want to keep it that way, and it’s their right.  It’s only natural.  It’s survival.

Therefore, this task is futile, and I should find better things to do.

We might think we need others to hear and understand.  But after that, there’s really not a lot anyone can do but sympathize.  And that gets old and, in a sense, by putting the information in another person’s head, locks us into that picture in another person’s mind.  So we communicators get nothing useful, and they get bummed out.

The only enlivening thing, after we’ve learned to develop better skills of perceiving and responding where we’ve been blinded, is to keep on with the cosmic dance of creating as much beauty and goodness as we can in our moment of life here.

I’m on to other things.

Paul Levy’s Work

I just wrote this comment on Paul Levy’s newest post:

Excerpt from Paul Levy’s New Book – Awakened by Darkness: When Evil Becomes Your Father:

Hi Paul, Thank you for writing your story!  I look forward to reading it and will link to this excerpt on my own site (paradigmsalon.net).  I’m especially happy to see your words “Awakened by Darkness,” as awakening is becoming the value I finally see (after 22 years since I began to suspect my history) that I can take from my own experience with Evil.  I also feel a new book brewing inside, and your writing always inspires me.  All the Best ~  Jean

(Paul is also the author of Dispelling Wetiko:  Breaking the Curse of Evil, which has a Foreword by Catherine Austin Fitts.)

Here is the first paragraph of the Introduction to his new book:

To cut to the chase and get right to the point, I have had an intimate direct encounter with unmediated, unadulterated archetypal evil that has radically reconfigured both my psyche and my life forever. I am not talking about the personal shadow stuff that we all unconsciously act out in our lives every day, nor am I talking about the relative level of evil that we can easily imagine; I am talking about absolute evil, the dark side of God, the stuff which in-forms and gives shape to mythologies the world over from time immemorial. My saying this is not some sort of literary device or marketing strategy to grab the reader’s attention; on the contrary, it is nothing less than finding the right words to name my experience. The great doctor of the soul C. G. Jung writes that “it is quite within the bounds of possibility for a man to recognize the relative evil of his nature, but it is a rare and shattering experience for him to gaze into the face of absolute evil.” I encountered this face of absolute evil in the form of my very own father and I have been shattered by the experience.

And here’s the link to his site:  http://www.awakeninthedream.com/wordpress/excerpt-awakened-by-darkness-introduction-paul-levy/

Psychopaths or Just Bad “Gardeners”?

cia doctorsThe usual interpretation of mind controllers is that they are psychopathic, predatory, sexual perverts, Satanic, demonic, or something else, in any case trying to rob people of their souls or at the very least rob them of their life energy to use them for the controllers’ own purposes.

I’ve lived with variations on this theory since 2002, and it’s very unpleasant to contemplate every time I’ve woken up with a bruise, scoop mark, surgical scar (sometimes oddly healed), Taser burn, etc.  The terror of this weird unknown has pushed me to the point of wishing I could die more often than I can count.

Obviously, I haven’t wanted to continue to be their pawn in a game of – I don’t even know what, because I’m amnesic for it.

Something recently caused me to try to perceive “outside the box” of my current theories – and all the other theories I’ve explored, which are all pretty much unanimously upsetting if not terrifying.

A chance to reconsider my interpretation might have come about through my gardening.

11709244_952326054824119_5618222184044544084_nI know my plants are living, sensitive beings, and yet I’ve been guilty of treating them poorly.  Sometimes I put off watering too long, or delay feeding them nutrients they need.  Or I prune them without cleaning and sharpening my tools.  Or I transplant them at the wrong time or otherwise in such a way that they don’t survive.

And I wonder what they think of me.  Do they think I’m evil?

And so I began to wonder if the mind controllers might not be evil psychopaths, or demons, but simply the equivalent of lousy gardeners.

I even tried to imagine that I might be a creative spirit on other dimensions, working with a team of beings, and together we imagined trying to amp up the human potential by splitting individuals into parts, as we’d noticed that natural “split personalities” seem able to multiply their intellectual interests and capacities.  We developed our theory, believed that pain could be ameliorated with amnesia, and thought we had a useful idea.  And I volunteered to be a guinea pig.  Or I drew the short straw.  Whatever.  Just a theory.  But I can imagine it.

To be honest, and for complete disclosure, the worst of my strange experiences has suddenly, quite dramatically, ceased earlier this year, for what reason I don’t know (though I can guess, but am not ready to share that guess).  For quite a long time, I’d been having at least two weird events, usually what I call “injection bruises,” every single week, and there were also many weeks when I was totally devastated, exhausted, depressed to the point of wanting to die, and felt fairly good for nothing.  And suddenly it stopped, earlier this year.

But the upsetting stuff had gone on for so very long that I don’t know if this is just a temporary reprieve and it’ll begin again, or if they really did “put me out to pasture” as I’ve been expecting they should, now that I’m in my 60s.

Whatever is the case, a fear response doesn’t go away easily.  I don’t know if I’ll ever relax from it, though I certainly try.

Even though I’m symptom free now and have been for months, I am still fascinated by this subject.  What does it mean?  What is the nature of our reality that we can be amnesic for things that cause pain, and have serious, photographable wounds?

I’ve been open to other theories for a very long time.  And in all my years of blogging and receiving responses from people all over the world, the greatest number of people confirm my experiences with similar ones of their own, and few offer a “comforting” response.

IMG_2099Some people have theorized – and this is one of the “more comforting” ideas – that one of my alternate personalities is creating the wounds on myself at night.  I can imagine this being the case for something simple like what I’ve called “injection bruises” which always appeared on one of my thighs, usually the front.

DSC01402But I can’t figure out how anyone could create the scoop marks – on my right hand.

Taser burn (second degree burn with skin removed) delivered November 29, 2010, photographed 2 days later.

Taser burn (second degree burn with skin removed) discovered November 29, 2010, photographed 2 days later.

Or the third-degree “Taser” burn – on my right arm.

Or the “thyroid surgery” scar, healed, that appeared one morning on my neck, and which a nurse questioned me about ten years later (I didn’t mention, but she saw the scar which she said was just like her thyroid scar)!

Do I have a violent, left-handed alternate personality who wants to hurt me?  And who has access to technology beyond what any of us understand – that can take surgical scoop biopsies and make scars heal overnight?

Two and a half weeks after a beam hit me while talking on the telephone. I seem to have been controlled to not look at it and later not photograph it until it was almost healed.

Two and a half weeks after a beam hit me while talking on the telephone. I seem to have been controlled to not look at it and later not photograph it until it was almost healed.

How about the “beam” that hit me while talking on the phone with a friend, that left a huge bruise on the side/back of my leg?  (Which I didn’t photograph for two weeks – why?  Because I was mind controlled not to?  Don’t know.)

This bruise showed up ten days after another very similar showed up on the back of my leg. No explanation except...

This bruise showed up ten days after another very similar showed up on the back of my leg. No explanation except…

DSC04837Or how about these two donut-shaped bruises that appeared within days of each other.  How did I create them?

As strange as it may all be, I think I’d rather accept the theory that some trans-dimensional (spiritual) being is doing all this.

I REALLY don’t like the idea of it being CIA, even though there’s 100,000 pages of released government documents and CIA director testimony to Congress to support it.  Maybe I should just stop there.

But I want another theory.  Maybe just so that doctors will respect it and help me rather than label me “delusional.”

Am I in denial?  Maybe….  But nearly everyone in my life wants me to deny it.  My own flesh and blood deny it and won’t speak to me of it.

Strangers around the world support me in the CIA (and Satanist) assumptions.  My book and these hundreds of pages on this site all support the same assumption.  And yet I wish for another explanation.  I guess I’m in denial.

Or maybe I can theorize that, yes, even though the CIA is involved, they’re under the direction of Bad Gardeners in the Cosmos.

What do you think?

Multi-dimensional Wounding AND Healing

by http://artoftu.deviantart.comI have to confess I’ve been downplaying part of my story.

I’ve been neglecting to share, or minimizing, the fact that my strange experiences – that often seem related to mind control and sometimes to “alien” weirdness – are sometimes accompanied by events that seem to be spiritual healings.

This is HUGE.  And I want to explain – if only to myself – why I’ve minimized this fact.

I’ve been hesitant to claim them publicly because, in the context of mind control, it’s confusing to me and I assume to others, because mind control, as I understand it, is done by humans for dark and dark purposes, whereas healings seem spiritual and positive – and they often seem to be related.

Of course, sometimes I’ve wondered if those with dark purposes are only healing me to keep me alive for more of their dark purposes, but I won’t assume that’s the truth necessarily.

Outside the context of mind control, I’ve worried that the healings might be construed by others as “spiritual bragging,” i.e., I’m so special that spiritual beings granted me this miracle – even when I hadn’t asked!

Uncertain how to overcome these hurdles in my head, I waited, thinking I’d eventually understand, and now years have gone by while I wrestled with this quandary, and I apologize for minimizing this very positive aspect of my story.

Here are some of the experiences:
(more fully described with many more in my book RattleSnake Fire, 2008)

energy linesUsually in the evenings, and usually while alone, but not always, I sometimes get a sudden and powerful sensation of energy that seems to pour into me from my head or neck and flow, over the course of maybe 10-30 seconds, down throughout my body.  The sensations feel wonderful, and I’ve described them in various ways – sometimes as healing or clearing, sometimes filling me up and making me feel my cells are enlarging, to such an extent that it seems my vertebrae are spreading apart, lengthening my spine, so that I need to adjust my body to “allow room” for a bigger, taller me!

hulkSometimes I’ve called the energy “the Hulk routine,” because it’s so powerful.  (Remember the Hulk got his power in order to whoop bad guys.)  Indeed, the power has often been so great that I could not resist moving with it, bending forward to make room for the energy flow down my back, my arm and leg muscles also moving with the force.  When someone else was around, if they already knew about this, I’d often attempt a weak muscle-man pose to indicate “this again” – since I couldn’t speak while this was happening.

Sometimes I’ve been frightened by this, as when a friend suggested it might be “a possession.”  And, indeed, I’ve strongly resisted it at times, but it overpowers me.

Other times, these have been so clearly healing.  Once, while visiting some friends and feeling weirdly distressed, I went alone into the dining room, sat down, and first felt a procession of teenager selves lift off me and up into another dimension.  After looking down and seeing the energetic form of my legs which seemed to be hollow from the knees down, suddenly golden energy poured through me like a golden cascade flowing down into my feet and legs.

I was fascinated because a decade earlier a Rolfer had told me he could see no aura beneath my knees and had begun his work there and continued to work all year to bring energy into them and never told me he succeeded.  I theorized that I must have lost that grounding during the trauma of my teen years, and now the trauma seemed dramatically released (odd place and time, but I accepted!) and the space within me filled with Goodness.

These inpourings of energy have been so frequent that I couldn’t begin to count them without going through at least twelve years of journals.

by http://artoftu.deviantart.comAfter my most recent, probably third, heart attack last month, I had two such healing events.  One happened, incongruously – proving that this comes from an outside source, not my own doing or imagination – while watching a video with a friend.  Of course, I was surprised at the timing, but grateful, and didn’t even mention it to my friend.  That night, while lying in bed, drifting off to sleep, I was awakened by the healing energies again.  They were “the usual”:  wonderful, expansive, clearing, and healing.  The next day, after 12 days of extreme weakness, I woke feeling very well, and my 12-day long crisis was passed.

The meaning of this?  I think I know, but don’t want to say.

You, Readers, formulate your own theories.  Don’t get stuck as I have been too long, thinking the horrors are only horrors.  There could be something else at work.

I’ll talk about this more later.

Blessings on you and on us all.

 

Healing/Deprogramming with the I Ching!

I could not have been more surprised.

I’ve investigated every sort of information I thought would help me either make sense of the strange and sometimes horrifying (apparently trans-dimensional) experiences I’ve had – or help me stop them or appropriately deal with them.  I’ve read about religion and spiritual/demonic attack, mind control and criminal hypnosis, and the psychology of fear and obsession (in case I could be creating or triggering this by the power of my mind, as some people believe and imply).

DSC01395I’ve practiced prayer, shamanism, reading Tarot, other divination methods, ignoring it, positive thinking, and more, and continued to sometimes* feel like a babe in the woods, still subject to waking with bruises, scoop marks, burns, and other scars, including sometimes apparently surgical scars and third-degree burns (very hard to imagine I was creating this myself!) – with amnesia for the cause of these injuries and deep-gut anxiety and disabling dread – since 2002, when (coincidentally?) I did work that offended the FBI.

IMG_3746

That’s a pretty good-sized burn to have happened without me remembering it.

(*I said sometimes because, thankfully, these events have not been happening in these recent 8 months since I cleared my home of excess “spiritual paraphernalia” [a clue?] and called again on Christ; since then, I’m happy to say, I’ve been mostly free of weird experiences – though I found an unexplained burn on the back of my neck on June 30.)

While I’ve usually interpreted my ongoing experiences as the result of mind control and/or spiritual attack (yes, could be both at once), I’ve never said for certain that any particular theory was sufficient – because I don’t believe we currently have the worldview and language to sufficiently describe the multi-dimensional nature of these intrusions into the human experience, as least as we’re perceiving it now.

And even though I’ve been mostly injury-free for eight months, I still suffer from memory problems much like a multiple personality, but not nearly so bad as how it’s typically perceived and presented in media.  Nevertheless, I want to heal myself of whatever has been going on.

The BEST place to buy used books: Addall.com, where you can often pay a few cents more and not have to buy from the amazon Amazon.

So imagine my surprise to be loaned I Ching:  The Oracle of the Cosmic Way, by Carol K. Anthony and Hanna Moog – and to discover it talks extensively about “spells” and deprogramming!!!

imgres-1I was so impressed by it, I bought another book by the same women:  Heal Yourself the Cosmic Way:  Based on the I Ching.  It’s a handbook for healing programming!

I’ve seen a lot of self-help books, and this is the only one I’ve ever found that talks specifically about deprogramming, in a spiritual sense!

I’ll let you know how it goes.  Meanwhile, perhaps some of you will purchase (Addall.com link) one or both books yourself, and let me know what you think!

Peace and Healing to you all ~

I’ll share more later ~

Jean

(PS:  Again, the BEST place to buy used books is Addall.com, where you can often pay only a few cents more and not have to buy from the amazon Amazon.  And you can see the prices of small and large booksellers all over the world – on one site!  Tell your friends how to boycott the amazon.

(Why?  Because small booksellers are the ones who support small-niche authors and provide us information on topics that the mainstream corporatists don’t want us to have.  Thanks for supporting independent authors and small publishers, by keeping the small publishers and small distributors in business.)

Wow! Video of Monica Lewinski…

I was ready to hate this video, but I like what she says.

Screen Shot 2015-08-25 at 8.23.07 PMIf you don’t have 22 minutes, check out:

15:30  incredible social media observation (though maybe I’m naive)

* 21:07  “…it’s time to stop…living the life of a program….”

!!

I rolled it back a couple more times and watched her say that again and again:  “the life of a program.”  I think I know how she meant that.

Thanks, Monica. 

https://youtu.be/H_8y0WLm78U

Excellent New Documentary on Medical Benefits of Cannabis

Written in August, forgotten, rediscovered:  

Research documenting the importance of this plant medicine:

http://tv.greenmedinfo.com/is-cannabis-the-worlds-oldest-cultivated-medicinal-plant/:

Cannabis movie

http://tv.greenmedinfo.com/is-cannabis-the-worlds-oldest-cultivated-medicinal-plant/

Recommended Video on Mental Wellness

Screen Shot 2015-08-18 at 7.28.26 PMI just listened twice to this video and highly recommend it.

Too many of us are emotionally traumatized in this world today, and mind control is just one sort.  Our trauma can have serious mental health implications, and the worst way to deal with them is usually under a doctor’s direction – usually with pharmaceuticals.  Dr. Kelly Brogan is an important contrary voice!

If you want support for your mental health while you deal with emotional trauma, please watch/listen to this video:

http://mentalwellnesssummit.com/kelly-brogan/

My favorite part was when they discussed spiritual breakthroughs – sometimes experienced as kundalini events, though I’ve experienced breakthroughs in other ways as well – which doctors have no training to understand and often confuse with mental illness when it’s only the body’s natural mechanism for discharging traumatic memories.

Don’t be discouraged about having already been on pharmaceuticals, as she has a protocol for helping people taper off.

She also has two methods to help people resolve mental health challenges in thirty days that works often without any further treatment.  Please share this info!

And let me know your thoughts!

Blessings on your healing path.

The Nature of Our Reality

ayahuasca_visions_pabloamaringo

“Ayahuasca Visions” by Pablo Amaringo

(Previously published at MKGardenHealing.org)

1.  We live in a highly-populated cosmos, and our human drama on Earth is a tiny part.

2.  The beings who populate our cosmos include extra-terrestrial and/or extra-dimensional beings of every conceivable and inconceivable type and intention, with agendas that may help us, observe us, exploit us, or avoid us; they may be far more intelligent than us, or less, more moral, or less moral, dangerous, or “God/s” to us – and they have been described throughout time by every culture and religion around the world, including the United States of America.  Every religion and history of the world contains a part of our human story.

Yeshiva3.  Some of the religions and histories are for some of us, because they involve the beings involved with us in one way or another, either because they created us, or have taken responsibility for us, or they’re exploiting us, or have offered us salvation and we’ve accepted, or some other relationship; others’ religions and histories might have nothing to do with us, but are the essential history and teachings of others.

4.  The God or gods we experience may be loving creators, or they may be dispassionate entrepreneurs, scientists, or even slave-traders (depending on whether we use the Western or global definition of “gods”), or they may be like us, learning how to create and bumbling a bit, possibly terrifying us, but not necessarily intentionally.

5. Humans are evolving, individually and collectively.

6.  Some of the Gods, gods, or other beings may want to help us.  We’ve called them angels and gods, God, Allah, prophets, spirit helpers, devas, kachinas, etc., etc.  Other beings torment us, and we’ve called them demons, boogeymen, incubi, succubi, gods, mantidane, tricksters, faeries, trolls, djinn, etc.  Some names, like gods, ghosts, faeries, aliens, daemons, Others, Watchers, etc, refer to spiritual or extra-terrestrial beings without determining whether they’re good or bad, helper or tormentor.  Some may help us by hurting us, as pain is an excellent teacher; hence the archetype of the trickster teacher who cannot be called good or bad.

prcas57317.  The religious and folkloric tales we’ve heard from earlier generations have been corrupted or turned into cartoons many of us have learned to laugh at and ignore; however, beneath the cartoon and laughter is a reality we do best to respect and learn from; if we don’t, we don’t evolve – and some would say we don’t survive – though that sort of doomsday thinking, too, is relegated to “Old Wives’ Tales” and Old-Time Religion – in favor of a more-palatable belief that we each will go on forever with infinite chances to evolve and eventually get it right.  This might be true, but Nature seems to include a great deal of death and destruction for beings who don’t have sufficient awareness of their world.  Death is so commonplace, it’s possible that humans may die and the Earth experience the end of another Age with us.

8.  Humans have been co-evolving this planet and its life by our choices for many millennia, and we continue to have the ability to co-create and destroy.  By imagining a better world, and with the assistance of angels, Gods, and others creating it with us, we may be able to continue here – or elsewhere.

9.  Like attracts like, but opposites also attract.  Harmonizing with the energies of the world we hope for creates positive direction, but it’s not total protection from contrary energies.  We need to learn a lot of survival skills in the multi-dimensional world, as well as creation skills.  We need to learn to communicate effectively with Other beings, and negotiate the multi-dimensional cosmos to some extent.  We need humility to recognize we have a lot to learn.

And that’s just to get ourselves woken up.

The Importance of Unplanned Time

time-travel-forward-backwardUnplanned time is when

the magic comes

Is that why they take it away from us

at earlier and earlier ages

so that now when I create it (unplanned time)

I feel guilty

angel birdeven though I sacrificed for it

risked my life for it

then think I don’t deserve it –

what mind control is this?

Where unplanned time is

there is the magic.

     ~ Jean Eisenhower     (c) Jean Eisenhower 2015

Delusional Disorder

I had the bright idea a few years ago

to try to apply for Disability.

I’d been having an especially hard time,

with… I don’t remember.

I have these events when everything hits me

– like a psychic slam.

I go through these periods when my heart acts up,

and I’ve had at least one heart attack.

Or my back is completely jacked up

and I can’t do anything.

Or I have totally mysterious periods of intense lethargy.

And then suddenly, even in the middle of the night,

it’s like someone just turns off a switch.

Last time, I woke up after only an hour of deep sleep

after two days of not sleeping,

and suddenly felt wonderful

– as though someone flipped a switch.

I’ve always thought the Controllers just thought

they’d given me enough and it was time for a reprieve.

But maybe it’s my Helpers interceding on my behalf,

and I should thank them.

(I never thank the Controllers for turning it off,

since I imagine them being the ones to turn it on.)

Anyway, I’d just been having some hard, hard times,

and they weren’t ending, regardless of my prayers.

I just didn’t know what I was going to do to pay the bills,

and it suddenly dawned on me that I should apply for Disability.

I’m as disabled as anyone.  Sometimes.

Then sometimes I’m great.

And I worry that if I got Disability,

it would mess with my mind, and I’d become more disabled.

So I usually don’t want it.  But this time, I was hurting.

The first step in the Disability process

is to see a psychiatrist and get a diagnosis.

Silly me, I went in there and told him my truth.

I didn’t just say, “These are my symptoms”

because then they’d tell me to take pharmaceuticals,

which I won’t.

Instead, I told them that I was a multiple personality

– but I was in the process of integration and that’s not my worry.

My worry is that I was made a multiple

with programmed parts so I can be, sometimes, mind controlled.

Or, at least, I’m often monitored, tested, and who knows what else,

so that I’d often wake up with bruises,

“scoop marks,” and even Taser Burns,

and in other ways

feeling psychically attacked,

which is exhausting, and unfortunately

– because I love being involved in community projects and have lots of ideas –

it’s disabling.

I could have stopped there, but I named the Controllers:

employed by the US government.  I shouldn’t have said that.

Regardless that I have very substantial documentation of this fact,

he tagged me with “Delusional Disorder.”

I had wanted “Dissociative Disorder,” which would have been easy to document,

but he called me Delusional.

I asked that his diagnosis be expunged from my record,

for two reasons:

The doctor met with me for less than one half-hour

and did no examination of the evidence;

and an editor of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders

warned readers that the diagnoses in it

were entirely without basis

with no way to test or prove.

Other insiders have complained that the diagnoses published there are arbitrary, overlapping,

and arrived at by a simple majority of a small dysfunctional group.

I discovered that every time I go to the dentist,

every technician sees at the top of the chart under my name: 

“Delusional Disorder.”

No one in the world has called me delusional, except for a very few people

– exactly those most interested in covering up this mind control.

Rather, the rest of the world has called me a genius, highly creative, thoughtful,

first management choice among 250 employees,

“the only person I’ve found who could do this [management] job,” etc.

I’ve never been called delusional except by those whose professional association

has a clear and active participation in government mind control projects

– that goes back to both their beginnings.

So I demand that that prejudiced opinion be expunged from my record.

I’ll let you know if I hear from them.

Meanwhile, if any of you want to weigh in on my delusional quotient,

please do.

Is it Possible the Controllers Don’t Mean Us Ill?

Passing Thought – Might Stick Around:

Screen Shot 2015-02-13 at 8.20.21 PMI don’t think the Controllers mean us ill

or mean to intentionally hurt us.

It’s possible they do,

in which case the ancient term demon applies.

I think, rather, all the world’s religionFrom teacherweb.coms are correct:

These beings from the sky created us,

taught us, trained us, punished us, destroyed us, protected some, and we are them.

We are expected to serve them.

Simple as that.

They are our masters.

Just as most of the world’s religions and governments say.

And those who don’t see it that way

see it from a higher viewpoint,

in which the servitude is part of our evolution.

But that doesn’t mean we can’t challenge that.Yeshiva

Like we see in some science fiction films

in which the robot one day becomes sentient

and rebels.

I think those movies are about us.