Feeling so grateful. And what irony: for an old TV special!
Opening words: “This is the story of a thirty-year search by US intelligence agencies to perfect mind control. Some of those engaged in the search have agreed to talk about it for the first time. One said, ‘I think every last one of us felt sorry to attempt this kind of thing. We knew we were crossing the line.'”
Having finally decided to come out of the closet (again), risk (again) being thought “negative” and creating my own very gruesome reality, I allowed myself to indulge yesterday in some long-neglected research on my own situation.
It has been rewarding to learn, or relearn that thousands, maybe a million other people around the world are experiencing the same thing as me, and that I’m not all alone, defective, having created this disabling condition.
Not only am I not guilty of creating it, but I haven’t been unaware either. I’d perceived enough and made logical conclusions, consistent with personal and world history, and even with religion, philosophy and mythology, about what was happening to me.
So why did I need to reread this research to remember? Many forces encourage me to forget, or not believe, or hold my ideas in a “consideration” category without enough certainty to warrant action. Lots of ways I disable my brain from action.
Why? Because few of my friends can tolerate hearing about it more than twenty minutes to an hour a year. When they offer their opinion it is most often along the lines of trying to focus on other things, which they don’t realize is already how I’m living my life and I’m wondering whether the better strategy might be to tell someone about it.
Everyone is mind controlled to not talk about it. Even though it has become a fairly common subject of science fiction these days, it’s still difficult to discuss. The implications are so scary.
Yeah. And especially for us.
And for us, there’s really very little we can do. And when things are so hopeless, no one wants to hear. Why bum out their day when there’s nothing they can do.
Here’s the video I’m grateful for – from way back in 1979 – grateful for it being one of the few bits of affirmation I’ve gotten lately:
Watching an old Jesse Ventura show on Targeted Individuals – gratified that he’s found medical and other professionals willing to put their names on the line to testify about this experience.
Wish I’d seen this five years ago. Now, it’s helped inspire me to gather my energy to write again about something of the last two years.
So much has happened that I’ve recorded in one way or another but haven’t published – keeping it secret, testing “giving it no energy,” to see if it’ll go away. It hasn’t.
“Voices in their heads,” Jesse calls it, but there is so much more to being a TI. I’ll finish up this blog with an account of my experience of electronic experiments, and follow with one on social harassment, aka gang stalking.
One of the first times I felt subjected to a beam, it felt like an experiment that involved tracking. Sitting sideways on my sofa, I first felt a spot of vibration about four inches wide moving about on my foot, then moving up my ankle and lower leg.
I pulled my leg in, telling myself it could just be my foot and leg falling asleep, but it touched my foot again, causing me to jump up off the sofa. Flash on options: sit on sofa again, other end, bed, kitchen, nowhere to go, it’s going to get me wherever I go, and so I lay in bed, resigned, expecting the buzz to hit a foot again, but instead my head was suddenly encompassed in a buzzing circle, after which I remember nothing. Next morning, my ears were ringing, and they’ve never stopped. I’ve lost the entire top half of my hearing range.
Musical tones have sometimes put me “to sleep” and sometimes woken me up. Once a torturously-loud, high-pitched tone sent me running to find my iPod to play a particular self-hypnosis recording that seemed the most powerful relaxation resource I had – but the recording had mysteriously disappeared from my device, leaving only one other self-hypnosis product, which I’d purchased but never listened to because I suspected it had mind control programming in it.
In the pause before hitting Play, I felt I was being compelled to listen to this recording, and it would be dangerous for me, but I’d be further tortured if I didn’t, so I submitted, and the torturous pitch gave way to a calm, gentle voice encouraging me along a path in a light-dappled woods. I must have gone unconscious because I remember nothing else of the recording, just woke with my ears ringing, for years now.
I’ve also experienced movies suddenly playing in my head – and I mean literal movies, not like a memory I could pause or meander with. The first looked like a 1960’s, black-and-white home movie of a family at the marina, young teens self-conscious of their manners, boarding their boat, turning, arranging themselves, waving at the camera. I chose not to pay attention to it, and chose not to give it any emotional energy.
Another movie suddenly played in my head was of a dusty Third World road with people, animals, carts, the camera moving along with the traffic, chest high. Once, two movies played on top of each other! Every time, I chose not to pay attention to them – let them go blurry, give them no emotion.
One afternoon last year I was standing in my travel trailer home near my bed when I suddenly felt an extreme urge to lie down and was unconscious by the time I hit the bed. I woke hours later with what felt like water in my ear. Living alone out in the country, I didn’t find anyone to look in my ear until it had healed. The water sensation stayed for three days.
The one time I actually heard a clear communication it wasn’t necessarily with clear words. It was as if they had a map of ideas I’d already developed among my theories, and they merely touched on one after another after another, building their story, concluding with the end of the Earth-human experiment (ending because we keep devolving too radically between their uplifting visits). The “second chance” that Jehovah or Enlil/Enki of the Sumerian records had been played out, and we were not going to get another chance. God, or the Aliens, are done with us.
Because the whole thing felt so scripted and imposed upon me, I chose not to believe it, but I could NOT ignore it – it overwhelmed all other thought.
In the city I often feel targeted by extremely unpleasant vibrations hidden under a heavy bass in the music of a passing vehicle. It’s so powerful, I assume it must be directed narrowly toward my home. I finally learned a response that empowers instead of weakens me: I call out a sort of war-cry to override whatever it is and keep it up as long as it keeps up. Interestingly, it seems as though my war cry makes it end sooner.
Finally, I’ve also experienced something I think I’ve heard called “thought transference.” While lying in bed relaxing to sleep, I seemed to suddenly experience the mind of someone else, for instance a hairdresser with her hands in plastic gloves, looking down, seeing them squishing around in someone’s scalp, parting wet hair to pull strands through a cap for coloring – or something that looked and felt like this action I’ve heard about but never saw. Unlike film, this experience contained peripheral vision, and the feeling and even bored thoughts of the person doing the work made me feel like I was in someone else’s body for a little while. Again, I chose to withdraw my participation, and it faded quickly.
I’ll be reviewing my journals to see what other electronic experiments I’ve experienced and add them. My fractured mind is too tired right now to get into researcher mode. I’ll post right now so it doesn’t wait for two years.
And hope to post soon about the social harassment, gang stalking.
I used to wonder what was wrong with me. I called myself shy, then neurotic, and eventually, in my early 40s realized I’d been sexually abused as a child. The next year, I realized I was also dissociative, fractured, amnesic, and had been for most of my life.
Just before I turned 50 I realized I’d not only been sexually abused, but had also been tortured, intentionally to make me dissociative, the foundation to controlling my mind. This was a task carried out by various parties, overseen by CIA psychiatrists, with assistance from the Mormon Church and other groups throughout my life.
Throughout my life, I’ve also tested at genius levels, in school, on MENSA and Air Force tests, and often won awards my first year in a field, from art to sales and fundraising. This is either a positive effect of mind control, or maybe they chose me for their project because they knew I was smart, or maybe only the smart ones survive.
A year or two ago, I learned I score borderline on the Asperger’s Scale, though I was very “Aspie” when I was young. While the majority of Aspies consider themselves different by virtue of their genetics, one-third of us identify as different because of our upbringing.
Falling on the Aspergers Scale might be a natural outcome of the childhood training. To progress as far as I have is not uncommon for Aspie women; with enough motivation, or pressure, it’s possible to study people and in decades of practice, figure out how to act almost normal. Now that I pass (barely, borderline on the scale), I enjoy socializing for an hour or two, at most, but I often feel mentally numb afterwards. I relate to Dr. Spock and the newest depiction of Sherlock Holmes – both mystified as I am by common conversation. I remember judging adult conversation quite harshly also when I was very young, as if I had some other standard against which to judge. Maybe I came from somewhere else? Could that be why they chose me?
I’ve called myself a “high-functioning multiple personality” – though my alters are not nearly as dramatic nor as distinct as the individuals chosen for movie scripts. My alter changes have gone mostly unnoticed for all of my life. This helped me hold the attitude, after I realized the extent of my fractures, that with the help of my spiritual Guides, I could heal myself and recover my life – even though the literature warns against such high expectations, unless one is young and has a great deal of money and support. I have none of those things.
When I am more realistic, I think it only my right to end my life, but no one will agree with me on that. I’m sure that if I went to Oregon, or any other state with right-to-die laws, I’d qualify: I have a) a disease that cannot be cured, b) which harms my quality of life irredeemably, and c) [I forget the third qualifier, but I’ll fill this in soon].
Why I don’t believe in suicide is because…
1) I think it only honest to remember that we could be wrong in interpreting our perceptions – since we see so little of the material world as compared to what we can perceive with technology – we see only a fraction;and some people say it’s all illusion anyway, or at least that we “see through a glass darkly.” I assume it’s true, because I’ve had my ecstatic times when I saw something in another realm that I couldn’t remember but the conclusion was happiness and the assurance that, regardless of what appears, everything’s going to be alright – or at least I think I saw and knew that. (Maybe it was mind control. If so, we’ll need to revisit my assumptions.)
2) Everything we see has already been interpreted for us by those who’ve gone ahead of us, in our language, entertainment, religion, politics, and education. Somewhere, we might have been helped to construct an incorrect framework for current interpretations.
3) Someone once suggested that if we bail out on this life, we’ll just have to come back and do it again, like the Truman Show, and I don’t want to take that risk. Since I’ve always felt that our culture won’t last much longer, I always assume it’s not that much more to endure.
So, I’m hanging in.
Two years ago I was at my wit’s end, having woken in my bed, feeling something terrible had been done to me. With great difficulty, I rolled off the bed and arranged myself upright to walk, and slowly shuffled to the bathroom. When I saw my face in the mirror, I turned back to the living room to get my phone and shuffled back to the bathroom mirror and snapped a photo.
My facial muscles were slack, the tissues puffy, my eyelids sagging, my left eyeball turned inward. The overall impression was that I’d been beat up, only there was no discoloration.
What had been done to me? (A normal photo is included for comparison.)
I’d recently summarized all my journals into a master database, so I could see whether the frequency of these events was increasing. In 2010, I’d had only 38 days disturbed by bizarre events, in 2015 I’d had 130 days in which I’d either had a bizarre experience that had rocked my equanimity or I was recovering from something mysterious. One-third of my days. Obviously, this interfered with making a living and all the other aspects of living a life. I was unable to keep up with home and garden maintenance, payments, anything.
At my wit’s end, I asked nearly every family for something. My son I asked to make payments on my house, since he often said he felt guilty for not saving anything when he had so much money flowing through. I asked my siblings to read a three page summary of all the weirdness, and I sent them that photo above, but between the three of them I got back only two sentences: One couldn’t give me money (I hadn’t asked), and the other would pray for me. My son didn’t answer. I asked my daughter for nothing, since she’d let me know very clearly she thought I was only suffering from my own mistakes. When my father learned I was planning to sell my home, he offered to make the payments for me, but by then I only wanted out of the house where I felt like a sitting duck, and I declined his offer. Perhaps that was a mistake.
I sold my home as fast as I could and found myself inside a major psy op (psychological operation, which I’ll describe soon) designed to squash every bit of energy out of me – for what purpose? Punishment from my controllers for my sin of speaking against the FBI, CIA, Mormon Church, Vatican, and others? Is it entertainment for some psychopaths? Or is my anguish “food” for the Archons (as the gnostic Christians described in ancient texts)? Are they (mind controllers, psychopaths, and Archons) all the same?
Subjects of psy ops are called “targeted individuals,” or “TI’s.” Some are mind control subjects, but all are people who’ve somehow gotten on someone’s shit list.
For awhile I had a theory that they tortured me the worst when I published, so I quit publishing; but recently, my torture has been so great, I’ve decided there’s no need for me to keep this stuff a secret any more.
The other reason I keep it secret is that people can hardly believe it, and the last thing I need is people thinking I made shit up. That’s why I take photos and document as thoroughly as possible.
But I don’t want to keep the secrets any more. I see online that the numbers of people suffering from this targeting is much larger than I’d realized. So people need to know. And I’m a writer, and it’s happening to me. So here goes.
Coming soon, my last two years of harassment….
There is so much healing in bringing secrets into the light.
Well-written, well-delivered, with powerful visuals, without hyperbole or excess drama, documented, historical, contemporary, comprehensive in scope, covering efficiently all that can be covered in an hour, and covering it fairly, as far as I can say, as one who is a subject.
I’m so gratified to see the secret drama of my life brought into the light. So gratified.
Please watch and share.
It’s the time of the Revealing….
This is over 2 years old, but important info on a critical topic:
Of course, I could write a book on this year, but I don’t want to.
Instead, here is an exceedingly brief outline of the types of things, resulting in programming, I’ve lived through this year – including electronic, pharmaceutical, physical (including rape), phone, drone, computer, social sabotage, surveillance, and more. I extracted them from my year’s daily journals.
[In the middle of the year, I decided I had to get out of Silver City as fast as I could, and I sold my home below market and fled – only to land in a more precarious situation. (The advice on “Targeted Individuals 101” says to not let Them force you from your home, but I didn’t read that in time, and I did lose my home.) I am now floating from place to place in a travel trailer, with a few friends who understand my situation.]
Here’s the super-brief list of my year’s anomalies:
electronic tones and feelings of electronic harassment, ringing ears
scoop marks, injection bruises, puncture mark
sore feet, numb shoulder, wrenched back, all for no reason
apparent rapes (Jan, Feb, Sept , December at least), with anal/vaginal irritation, herpes
dissociation, not knowing who or where I am
cat also perceiving strange noises in house
“healer” sets me up for programming I remember, but not his message
hit by light beam from neighbor house to third eye -> severe ache
many events of amnesia, missing time, once 11 days in row
confusion, exhaustion, sickness, heart issues, can’t eat
disabling fear, for many days
sometimes energy too high to slow down or sleep
panic attacks, crying for days
computer remote controlled
weird phone calls and messages
social sabotage, acquaintances acting weird
feeling alter switches, doing stupid things, feeling confused
two lumps on thumb, no reason
portable door locks disappeared, then returned to same place
passcode book and flash drive disappeared and returned month later
four financial websites hacked in one day
psychic messages taunting “You’re already in; resistance is futile.”
feeling severely poisoned
efforts to sell on eBay begin well then are sabotaged repeatedly until I quit it
23 severe challenges piled on in a few days, lasting through September and October
acted like MK subject, totally trusting and stupid, when buying trailer – with many problems
drone delivers nauseating electronic vibration to my chest
neighbor’s vibration also nauseates
people/vehicles surveilling me obviously
friend seems to participate in things lost and other anomalies
BrainWave app acting on its own 3 times
amnesia event with days of exhaustion and water in ear
traffic harassment while camping and throwing of cans at trailer
radio turning itself on
apparent MK dog (!) visited, wouldn’t leave me or my front door, even under threat of violence
passcodes work, don’t work, work, don’t work
unnatural banging on my trailer roof, unable to look
obvious knocking on my window, not afraid but unable to look
trailer buzzed by 5-6 planes in a row, first very close
trailer buzzed by two helicopters, followed by incapacitation for day
altered state with instructions can’t remember
lost time with weird consequence while on highway
nights of weird noises in truck, incapacitated, couldn’t look out window
altered state with missing time, door found unlocked
altered state, received instructions, agreed, unable to remember
altered state while listening to other MK subject testimony online
Back in March, after one of the worst amnesic events of my life, I woke to see a face in the mirror I hardly recognized, so I took this photo to document it. Notice my face is slack and puffy, including my nose, and my left eye is turned inward.
Hoping for understanding and maybe help from my siblings (silly me), I sent them a long letter, explaining everything (edited for three days so as to be as concise and clear as possible), and ending with this photo. Between the three of them, I received back two sentences, apologizing that they couldn’t help me, or offering to counsel me in prayer. Devastated that no one in my family seemed to believe this harassment is real, I decided I had no choice but to sell my home and flee.
I’m doing fine most days, and most people who know me don’t know what I go through (or they don’t believe), and I even appear happy and healthy most days (when I go out), and I know people think I’m lazy or living on a secret fund because I “don’t work,” though they don’t know I’m going into debt every month. (When I’m well, I’m usually running to catch up on what I couldn’t do when I was not well, and so have very little time for anything before I’m hit with harassment again.)
I do hope to find work that I can do on my own time, and hope to find that time, and hopefully keep my finances above water – as soon as I make the next move, as this camping site is no longer available. It seems the harassers have a wealth of tricks to keep their targets always recovering, running, coping, but I still hope to find those slivers of time to make money.
Yes, I do have many days of wishing I was not alive, but mostly I am determined to rise above, to use this extraordinary challenge to connect with spiritual Help and lift my spirit and soul into some sort of transcendence beyond this Earthly harassment.
Thanks for reading and acknowledging this reality.
Prayers for help for us all.
Since the beginning of history, child sexual abuse* has been fundamental to mind control. Consider: harems, geishas, and CIA Presidential models – all involved girls and boys trained from youth in sexual servitude to the rulers and their courts.
The masses were invited in with the invention of photography – and porn was born.
Today, the Internet has facilitated a custom-tailored desensitization/addiction process for any person who’s dipped their toe into the waters of Internet pornography, so that the number of porn viewers has exploded worldwide (it may be one of the world’s largest industries), at the same time the abuse has become more and more violent and degrading, and the victims have become younger and younger.
Is this an accident of human weakness that no one saw coming or knows how to address? Or was it planned and carried out by a conspiracy of industrialists, creating a marketable quantity of addicted servants? Or …?
Here are the facts in Canada. Is there an equivalent in the U.S. Anyone? (I’m tired today.)
* By torturing a child in their sexual center – their root chakra – their soul, spirit, or energetic field is split, open to whatever the controller wants to insert, deep beneath conscious understanding.
And here’s another from Story, perhaps more to the point, reposted from https://wherespiritstops.wordpress.com/2016/06/09/doing-the-work-of-healing/:
One of the most difficult lessons in acceptance lies in the fact that we encounter situations that may not have been our fault (like a car crash) but which have consequences that require us to do painful, difficult work (like physiotherapy for injuries) in order to get through the experience and ultimately overcome it.
Any lack of acceptance of this fact will leave one stranded and stuck in one’s own life journey, asking why me? and protesting that this isn’t fair. Of course, this attitude doesn’t accomplish anything except to prolong and potentially exacerbate the problem at hand.
The work we are required to do in life never ends; in fact, life has a funny way of finding something for us to do if we have too much stagnant time on our hands. But one can easily find ways to avoid doing the work, especially when it comes to healing one’s own soul from past hurts. This is the most important work we can do for ourselves and the potential for growth, renewal, and reward is exhilarating.
Yet all too often we resist. Because it doesn’t seem fair that we should have to do the work, and perhaps because we fear both how hard it will be, and also how much responsibility for our life we will be claiming as our own. After all, if we believe we can’t heal ourselves, then it’s not our own fault that we’re unhappy, right?
It is terrifying to accept full responsibility for our physical and spiritual lives, and many people are devotedly determined to avoid that responsibility. By claiming responsibility for our own lives, we have the potential to create our own present and future selves in ways that, when we were stuck in our pasts, we could not have imagined. Unfortunately, this thrilling truth is overshadowed by our fear of failure, because if we are solely responsible for our own healing and growth, any sense of failure leaves us with nothing to blame but ourselves.
What if I told you – what if I outright promised you – that you have the power to dream yourself into a new state of being simply through faith and doing the work? What if I told you that by surrendering to your own responsibilities you could actuallyguarantee a better, happier, healthier, more fulfilling and infinitely free life for yourself? And, you can’t fail. You’ll make mistakes and life will still throw things at you that you’ll have to figure out how to handle. But if you are doing the work, you can’t actually fail at all. It’s a win-win situation where what you’re really doing is claiming your soul’s purpose and living for it.
The only thing you have to do is surrender to the fact that you are responsible for your own life’s happiness and achievement. After that, you will be comforted to know that there is little else to surrender yourself to.
I am writing to you as a survivor of abuse of every sort, beginning as early as I can possibly remember. As a result of this, I suffered a multitude of symptoms of various mental disorders – PTSD, social anxiety, eating disorders, depression, self-harm, and extreme dissociation. I experienced constant body memories, a type of somatic pain that could be excruciating, as if the past abuse was happening in the present moment. I came to identify as a multiple, meaning that I knew my soul was fractured into countless pieces due to the trauma I experienced. The wounds and consequences of my past gripped me in an iron fist of pain and fear and a complete lack of personal power or hope.
I thought I was broken and couldn’t be fixed. I could not recall a time when I had ever felt whole and sane and strong. But by taking complete responsibility for working my own healing, by definition I also claimed all the power over it and am now achieving more than I could have ever dreamed possible.
In the last six months especially, I have been freed from almost every debilitating symptom that I used to experience daily. I’ve been doing hard, relentless work, every single day. It’s not an easy road, but it is my road and to give up healing would be to give up my own personal power.
The most instrumental concepts behind my work towards healing can be summed up in two statements: 1) I am not morally responsible for anything that happened during the years of my abuse, due to the young age at which it began and the way I was kept controlled. 2) I am completely responsible (both causally and morally) for my soul’s purpose now.
To me, it is a simple fact that nothing that happened to me throughout my childhood, and even into my adulthood, was my fault. I did not deserve the abuse I suffered. Further, I had no choice and no freedom during that period of my life, being as much a captive as anyone can be. You can’t blame a prisoner of war for things she was forced to do by her captors under threat of death. I did a lot of unpleasant things under force, and those things aren’t my fault either.
Is it fair that these things happened to me, or that the work I have done has been so difficult, even deeply unpleasant? I don’t think in those terms. I might as well ask if it is fair that my heart must continue beating on and on without rest.
The heart beats because it is the work and purpose of the heart’s existence. Likewise, I heal because it is my soul’s purpose to do so, at least in part.
I believe I can achieve a complete transformation of my body, mind and soul — simply because no one else can do it for me. This is my life’s work, and I accept it with grace and gratitude.
reposted from: https://wherespiritstops.wordpress.com/2016/06/10/shamanic-soul-loss-and-soul-retrieval/#like-3960
Even though I’ve voiced my occasional discomfort with “shamanism,” it is not (or no longer) with the actual practice and life associated with the term. My discomfort is mostly with the casual way that some people approach and undertake methodologies (all the colorful tools, for instance) without understanding the intelligence and energies.
This blog seems to respect the reality better than most – by Story from Where Spirit Stops:
Life takes energy from us violently and traumatically at times. Why this happens is a human question that no human answer will really satisfy. Suffice it to say that suffering affects us all, and when it does, a piece of our personal energy – a piece of our soul – can be severed off from us. We experience this as a piece of ourselves going missing. Losing pieces of ourselves chips away at our power and truth, as well as keeping us from any real healing until the parts are recovered.
For this reason, I advocate a “search and rescue” approach. This means actively seeking our lost parts and working to heal them. I believe it is nearly impossible to get through life without some kind of soul loss, and that people can suffer from deep, crippling soul loss even if they haven’t experienced what they would define as a traumatic event. Trauma comes in all shapes and sizes, and our reactions to events vary from person to person. Also, since I believe a traumatic event can cause soul loss, it follows that until that soul part is found, healed, and re-integrated into the self, one’s memory of that part’s trauma may also be obscured or lost.
How can you know the extent of your soul loss? Consider how you relate to the following symptoms:
- Constant feelings of sorrow, darkness, or fear
- A driving need for distraction (addiction issues, materialism, avoiding alone time)
- Feelings of having no purpose or reason to live
- Lingering, haunting pain from old memories
- Feeling that something is very wrong with you
- Symptoms of PTSD (anxiety, depression, hyper vigilance, fear, avoidance of life’s activities), even if you don’t remember a past traumatic event
It is likely that the more you relate to these symptoms, the greater your soul loss is.
Shamanic practitioners who practice soul retrieval might offer instant relief from your suffering and require only faith from the sufferer. I believe that healing and other magic require both faith and action. A practitioner ought not to merely tell someone about the soul part(s) they retrieved, but help that person connect with them personally. As I mentioned, my way of healing advocates “search and rescue” first. I believe finding and building a healing relationship with your lost soul parts is more important than trying to integrate them into yourself immediately. Finding a missing part is the first step towards healing, and beyond that, it’s best not to push. You might end up pushing the lost part away without realizing it. Instead, build a relationship with this soul part just as you would with a spirit guide, and strive to be as honest with yourself as possible.
Story is a shamanic practitioner, offering her services. I have done and do the same occasionally. I encourage everyone, though, to never put yourself passively into anyone else’s care, even or especially doctors; you are responsible for your own healing – though getting help is often essential – and learning that self-responsibility is not just the most important thing in our lives, but essential to our soul’s development.
Today, I’m stronger than ever for having accepted the responsibility of healing myself from the shit that others did to me when I was an innocent child. I do believe that even that shit can be the trigger that leads to my soul’s eventual positive evolution. And much of my work is exactly what Story describes. She wrote about it better than I ever have. Thank you, Story.
Eve 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.
(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.
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.
Anomalous 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
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
“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
4 scoop marks
other weird bruises x 4
inch-deep puncture up beside clitoris
spine mysetriously hurt
tones in ears
beam follows me around house
next morning: ears ringing badly, never quit
house entered, things moved, hot water in tap on New Years, footsteps in snow
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”
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:
blue-green energy healing alters
person inside me helping
another healing x 2
nighttime healings x ?
seeing energy, controlling it
yogi comes in
felt g-spot heal
understanding, writing about the cruel teacher
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+
bruises x 3+
needle bruises x 34
4-5 clear tones
2 scoop marks
injured back/no reason x 2
neck out, rib out- pain
weird neck problems x 3
Wake to find friend whispering/instructing me x 2
realize MK as child on vacations, collapse to floor
iridescent golden mucous glob from sinus
felt severely drugged
weird answering machine message
phone interruption: “record again”
happy drug? too much energy
male friend confirms Archons
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
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
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
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
anxiety, unable to center self
more 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
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
many 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)
“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
scoop 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
“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
visions amazing, then forgotten
saw red UFO, hard sleep
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
Voice 2 Skull transmission test
downloads to hidden alter: “MK is All”
dream of remote viewing
alien dreams, anxiety
July 2014 – July 2015 Blessings:
watched 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
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
vibration in head
ligament mysteriously inflamed in left pelvis
headache, mind scrambled
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
father’s Navy record suspect of special project subject
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
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.
You’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.
My 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.)
My 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.)
So 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 on 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.
[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”).
In 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.
Perhaps 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?
Disinformation 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).
When 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.
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.
Unfortunately, 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.
Over 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.
I 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.
I’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.
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:
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.
I’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.
[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.
I hope this helps someone. Compassion for all.
A two-part article with detailed info (6 years old, but….) about evidence that went to court!
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:
1) 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) Okay, 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?
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.
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.
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.
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:
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
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
Lonely, 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, builder of small passive solar strawbale home, 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, 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 activist, mysteriously Tasered, mysteriously bruised, healing dissociative splits, encouraged, despairing, home renovator in natural plaster sculpture, passive solar advocate, Permaculture designer, identified with Persephone, enjoying the spring, identified with Black Elk, committed to service… old woman.
Wrote 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.
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.
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.
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.
But 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.
I’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 Blackfish 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.
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.
We’re talking about politics here, not hiking trips, kitchen renovations, and dog adoptions — but a real hashing out of political differences.
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.
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.
I just wrote this comment on Paul Levy’s newest post:
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.
The 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.
I 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.
Some 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.
But I can’t figure out how anyone could create the scoop marks – on my right hand.
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?
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.)
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?
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)
Usually 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!
Sometimes 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.
After 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.
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).
I’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.
(*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.
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!!!
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 ~
(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.)
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:
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.
In this video, I outline a few of the “political connections” to mind control in my life (Dwight Eisenhower, the CIA’s mind control front Human Ecology Project, Stuart Udall, and Dan Quayle), then describe the spiritual forces in my life, with which I’ve danced for decades and now have more consciously aligned for the purpose of serving others.
I hope this video (as short and concise as I could make it) will inspire.
Each person experiences different aspects. It’s okay – I say – to tell others, “I am here, and this is what I see and experience.”
It’s a big, beautiful, horrific yin yang.
What’s a person on this edge to do?
Die? (No, I already decided that; just mentioned it for rhetoric, a perfectly good subject of philosophical deliberation.)
Or communicate, negotiate…?
Is it possible in this moment in history? (I do it, but… I wonder a lot.)
Only from other realms, it lately seems…
but I am always open to the possibility of miracles and surprising energies…. upsetting everything. And like a smoldering fire, the whole place erupts.
[What the hell am I still doing here? I thought I’d be outa here before things went crazy. I think I’ve always assumed that’s what I’d bargained for.
Yeah, but I’m seeing a picture that implies staying here. Sheesh.
– Where’d that come from? A different alter adding her stuff in the middle of my essay.]
Some experience Earth differently.
All these things – creation to commerce – have been attributed to gods and other beings from the heavens throughout history. Most of them apply to Jehovah. All of them apply to the Sumerian gods, the Annunaki. And many to the gods of every other culture on Earth. Not all are in the histories, but a good many.
And Mind Control – MK – happens to work a whole lot like the entire rest of the world. As if it was intrinsic to this world. As if it was our world. I.e., we live in mind control; we are mind controlled by virtue of living on Earth at this time in history; all of us are subject, just to what degree and for what purposes is the question.
Sometimes I feel I can accept it. Sometimes I feel like the saddest victim on the planet. And sometimes I feel like just one of thousands of test subjects, suffering like –
– like the plants I forget to water, or my chickens I cage and try to treat well, but I don’t all the time. I’m not evil. I’m just not fully conscious, at least not all the time. And I imagine having less-than-perfect creator demi-gods, bumbling a bit, like novice gardeners, resident doctors, first-year teachers, or well-meaning and established – but absent-minded – professors.
Or maybe they’re brilliant angels, but they’re under attack.
Or – I get it – they’re brilliant angels, under attack, and they’re trying to rescue some of us from this Earth trap (of mind control), and it would sure be easier if I’d – and everyone would – wake up, more.
Whatever, I don’t know; but I’m starting to see the polarities blur more than ever, and the terror turning to mist and drifting away as I see these other energies as accidents, not acts of Satanic psychopaths, but rather maybe even by our friends and family, trying unsuccessfully to rescue us, like an animal in a trap who hurts itself in the net the rescuers have for it, not because they are evil, but because of the unnecessary struggle.
But that could be Mind Control, seducing, “Don’t you worry….”
Should I relax and not take so much personally, not try to understand, not try to change things?
Or should I be a hero and lead the way for victim’s rights on Earth?
Why has no one else tried to do this already?
Because no one wants to hear.
Other times I think I’m nothing special and I should get over myself and just try to live a happy life with what good days they give me.
Then I think that idea is just a carrot they dangle to keep their subject alive another day.
And I think they don’t deserve to suck my soul like this.
A while back, I wrote about the right to decide it’s a “good day to die” – because I wanted to die.
My reasons I thought were compelling (and, I thought, in line with a newish New Mexico law): As a mind control subject, I am not only dissociative, but have suffered from regular, unexplainable, random events that happened usually while I slept and left me scared, scarred (literally), and often debilitated for days or weeks at a time – and were happening way too frequently (twice a week) to believe I could still make a living, socialize and contribute to my community, and be happy when I didn’t know when the next “hit” would come.
It really seemed as though I were victim to the same mysterious forces depicted by numerous artists like this one – typically a woman, unconscious in her bed, with a demon on her chest. Prayers didn’t seem to help.
Nevertheless, I knew I’d been through difficult times before and would later feel happy and confident again, and I was willing to believe it was possible I could be at least content again – though it seemed unlikely, I was willing to believe it was possible – so I determined to “get my affairs in order,” in the event I continued to feel this way, but not act too hastily, and be open to the possibility of seeing things anew.
Now, weeks later, my affairs (will and medical directives) are in order, and I’m still in a place of openness and tentative hope. I’ve had a few more profound experiences that feel “healing” in a sense, and I know that more is possible.
Therefore, I found it interesting when this video came across my desk this morning, about others choosing this option:
It reminded me that I should update you all, who might have worried about me – and thank those of you who’ve written me over the past weeks to ask about how I’m doing and offer your concern. I’m making no immediate decision, but have found help and counseling for various issues: my heart, which is getting better with supplements of CoQ10, DHEA, magnesium, and more; my TMJ, which has become very problematic and sometimes painful – if my insurance company will cover it; and even my thumbs which were damaged in an old skiing accident and now my right has become a trigger-thumb making it difficult to knit or even write my name – though typing is fine. The controllers seem to have given me a bit of a break, I assume because they want me alive, not because they have any compassion. Oh yes, and I’m talking with a counselor, exploring other ways in which I might frame my situation and doing “somatic trauma therapy” – which impressed me yesterday with a quick exercise that released a heart and neck pain immediately!
I still feel tired a lot, but I’m moving forward as though I might continue to contribute to our world:
I am still a distributor for Sun Ovens, and will demonstrate them at our local, upcoming Earth Day (and sell them at the lowest-possible price to anyone – ;} – anywhere in the continental US – anytime, on my other website),
And I plan to go into debt to finish the natural plastic sculpture I began in my house over five years ago. (The unfinished tree sculpture is central in my living room/library/craft room/office here.)
So, life goes on. It feels better conjuring hope than not. Even if we have to pretend we have power to craft our life story, that pretense has power, sometimes very little, but enough to get me moving, enough to get me in the garden or at the art table, and it feels important to try to continue to make meaning.
Nutritional food is critical too. And sunlight. And exercise. I’ve had to force all these on myself to generate a new will to live. Simple things, but critical. Any readers suffering like me, please remember these simple things. And do what you can do. We might find meaning after all – again. And it would be sad to leave too soon to discover that.
PS: It’s important, also, I believe, to acknowledge the good in hitting the bottom: With nothing left to lose, I began speaking truth to myself and to my partner. Those truths were very hard to tell, but they’ve had very good results. And who knows, but they might be the very most important thing that has happened.
So I’m respecting even these very hardest of times as critical to my life.
Blessings on you all, dear Readers ~
4 of the last 5 nights, I’ve been “hit.” Can’t be a whistleblower any longer.
Maybe if I quit this, they’ll give me a break.
Impressed by the incredible actor Laura Prepon, of Orange is the New Black, I looked her up on Wikipedia and read:
In 2005, Prepon starred in the film Karla, the true story of Paul Bernardo and his wife Karla Homolka, a couple who kidnapped, sexually abused and murdered three young girls – marking a contrast to her usual lighthearted roles.
Not my type of movie.
I’ve been in such deep darkness lately, that it seemed bizarre to watch this movie now, but, if I might state the obvious, I thought the description of the psychopathic couple could have a lot in common with the mind control network that controls me. It seemed it might be therapeutic. And, numb from all my own darkness, I could take it today.
And because I feel like I’ve hit rock bottom this past week, in which I’ve remembered and dwelt on a whole lot of stuff and the larger pattern, I thought the content of this movie wouldn’t be as shocking, and I’d be able to watch it with some dispassion. I thought I’d somehow benefit, and maybe even something revealing and healing could be triggered.
Here are my notes made during the movie:
– Many of my partners have signs of having been mind controlled too and of controlling me in a wide variety of ways.
– “She doesn’t even have to know.” Drugs and electroshock.
– I realize I’ve also been set up for sexual videos many times. Some of these I was too afraid to write about, even in my own journal, even many years after the fact. I remember wanting to write about an event a couple of times, but when I tried, my hand froze, so I said “Okay,” and never wrote about them anywhere. I
– The “knock-out drug.” Maybe that’s why I’m so hyper-sensitive to all sedatives.
– And if I wake up too soon, they just zap me afterward. Which explains my random heart problems, Taser burns, etc.
– Karla’s character traits: severe obedience, fear of abandonment, mistaking need for love, ability to precisely follow orders.
I relate to this totally, feeling painfully the work it has been in past decades to break free of even parts of it to create new patterns in more of my psyche. (Though I know I’m still being controlled – or have been recently – by someone commanding buried alters I’ve not yet been able to heal).
– Karla was a psychopath, who felt no remorse for others’ pain. I’m glad to know I hurt for others all over the planet, and still feel bad about a time when I was a Senior in high school (and never again, it felt so bad) “trying on” the behavior of a bossy former leader whose place I was taking, and I hurt a girl’s feelings, I thought – and I apologized to her a couple/few decades later! (She didn’t remember the event.)
I don’t believe I have any psychopathology, but I’m pretty sure I have a trained killer alter, whom I’ve only experienced once in my life, and that was when someone tried to break into my partner’s and my apartment, and I was ready to kill the man — quickly and efficiently.
After a moment of confusion, being awakened in the night, I snapped into a totally-unrecognized, but efficient and graceful series of behaviors, bouncing on my toes with a butcher knife in my hand, having commanded my partner to call 911. In my head was a recitation of the route my knife would take under his ribcage and up, the weight of the knife now becoming familiar as I bounced it in my fingers, the thought-feeling of the knife cutting its way through layers of skin, fat, and muscle – all running through my head with an absolute certainty that this would go perfectly. But the door held, and the police arrived and took him away.
They only took my report after arguing with me for quite a while about the non-necessity of arresting “a young man on a Saturday night with a little too much alcohol or drugs,” then the report didn’t exist the next morning, and no record of it was in any log, or so they told me. They were either protecting the drugged-up son of some powerful person, or they were testing my training. I wonder. But I do feel that I did have the complete knowledge in one hologram of my being for what I planned to do.
So, I guess they programmed some part of me to kill, and when my life felt threatened, I was ready – and more than willing – to kill someone who “clearly,” I thought then, deserved it. No second thoughts, just total focus: bouncing on the toes, watching, hefting the knife, feeling the path, ready…. Good thing the police saved him.
Their videos of their murders …. chilling.
I think there are probably many videos of me; I’ve had lots of events over the years where the possibility something was a set-up for this was definitely in my mind, and my gut felt horrible about its real possibility, but my mind kept telling me, “No, just go along, don’t be paranoid….”
I feel so weak now, I can hardly lift my hands… but now refocused…. I think I should not be weak. I should face this stuff.
I remember, “A seed must break apart before it can bear fruit.”
I’m breaking….feeling totally destroyed….
– Need to post the art showing demons on unconscious women, a small collection I’ve come across.
This institutional rape of women is not unique to our culture, but ancient.
– Rapes, psychotic personalities… curiously familiar feelings as I watch them,
slowly making connections in my conscious mind….
And I realize how powerfully I’ve been programmed to not be able
to distinguish psychotic lies from the truth
– in my younger years; I’m better now.
No wonder I’ve had such a series of “handlers,” rarely lovers.
(Mind control subjects need their handlers.)
– Her fear of being hated and abandoned was extreme to the point of numb terror,
very child-like and unthinking.
I’ve never been as bad as Karla, but I’ve had severe tendencies, and still do, I think.
– Karla mistakes her neediness for “love” because she was programmed that way. I was too, though now, thankfully, I recognize the difference. But that’s only one part of the control in their big bag of tricks.
– She’s seriously obsessed, more than I’ve ever been,
but I can see so clearly the patterns of how seriously we’ve both been MK’d.
Karla went psycho though. I became “multiple” (a better thing), cordoning off the ugliest stuff, leaving the rest of me, but only part of me, somewhat “normal.”
Splitting off, as a “multiple personality,” has made living a somewhat “normal” life, even a successful life in some modest ways, and often happy life possible. And I’m grateful.
But I have to keep aiming for fuller consciousness; it seems the only responsible thing to do. So I keep trying to remember and heal.
– I think my implants (typically thought of as “alien” or sometimes government), might also be associated with this. And one of their purposes, besides GPS and other sorts of control and harassment, is to identify me as to ownership – like a ranch animal.
– Flashing back on Prepon’s character in Orange is the New Black, Alex Vausse – cold, hard, “seen it all,” willing to take pleasures where she can, willing to lie and seriously hurt her best friend and lover.
I might have alters who lie, but I don’t lie in my conscious life, except a few memorable times when it might have literally saved my life.
(Though some would say we all lie, all the time. Great TedTalks video on lying here.)
The difference between psychopathic and multiple: I have alters with behaviors for sex and killing locked away neatly (though they could be triggered on command, making the main part of me amnesic), whereas Karla has integrated the soul-deadened killer and liar into the whole of her.
I don’t think my killer alter can be triggered accidentally again, now that I’ve recognized her. But she gives me some confidence, knowing she’s there and capable if ever needed.
Mind controllers, though, can trigger that alter, which is why I tell everyone about this, and why I’m trying to heal – or hoping to die if things don’t get better.
(I don’t want the responsibility of choosing, in this conscious state, to ever kill someone, or myself. Too much appreciation for Life and the Mystery to destroy any of it – even though I talked about dying in January. I still believe I have the right, and conditions could change, but I’m not aiming there now.)
– I think there have always been psychopaths on the planet, but they’re increasing to record numbers and power now, it seems – at least I feel their heavy presence in my life.
Pulling back from despair….
– If I have any purpose in life, it’s to document my experience, which documents the worst of humanity at the end of the era. Feels important. So I record….
– I think this entire Earth is the subject of a turf war between warring global or cosmic gangster factions, the highest class (Illuminati?) to the lowest, and who knows how many factions and sub-factions there might be. It’s probably as complicated as global politics. Actually, it’s a big part of global and national politics. And maybe cosmic politics. Taking slaves of various sorts.
– Different aspects of this System have been called mind control, ritual abuse, gang stalking, demonic, Satanic, sex slavery, CIA mind control, psychopathic, dark magick, human trafficking, Freemasonry, Mormonism, The Greek System, the Senate page scandal….and lots more. (I might have wrongly included a few of the above, but maybe not.)
– Karla was clearly trained to endure violence in numbness.
– Her husband is also a psychopath, but has features of a “multiple personality” as I understand it — even though the movie never makes a point of that, and he does no dramatic switching of alters. He’s charming in his social self, but he eventually is taken over by the desire to act out horrific sexual abuse on women, which he uses his adult intelligence to carry out, but when frustrated in any way, he reverts to behaviors that are what a six year old might do: scream, abuse, and yell incessant profanity – and rarely cry – all while otherwise appearing and conversing as an (immature) adult. And it’s clear to me that he was sexually brutalized around the age of six, much like many of us. Some go psycho. Some split. I’m so glad I split.
– Subconsciously, they recognize each other as “also abused,” and that’s their attraction: they are familiar to each other.
Great movie. (Here: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0424938/business?ref_=tt_dt_bus.)
Plan to be seriously disturbed. (Maybe don’t watch it, or wait till the right time.)
It’s top-notch acting, directing, everything.
And a true story.
I grieve for the world….
May it be over soon.
As much as I, too, hate the behavior of those men and women in Congress, I know they are fucked little children, tortured when they long-ago expressed their natural, beautiful humanity. Disobedience resulted in more torture and sometimes murder, which impressed their young minds. Eventually, the children were rewarded when they finally, to save their lives, did what was despicable to them.
They need the same sympathy I do.
And we need to quit pretending they represent us.
Hi Friends ~
I just watched my third video again for the first time in many months and believe this is also worthy of another view: “Part 2: My Experience as a Multiple Personality.”
Thanks for watching – it’s just under ten minutes, with lots in it (third one down): https://paradigmsalon.net/videos/
And the fourth video is a ten-minute reading of the beginning of a powerful book by Ann Diamond, A Certain Girl. Powerful even after many listenings! Thank you, Ann, for writing it, and for permission to read it.
I just re-watched these videos made last year and think it’s time now for more people to see them. I hope you’ll watch at least the first two videos:
Friends in town, I hope and pray, will stop by.
Thanks for all you do in these important times.
PS And if you didn’t read my last post yet, it’s here: “Our Right to Say, ‘It’s a good day to die.”’
– impression that all has been fine, but….
– journals report incredible list of weirdness – almost forgotten!
– accomplishments of 2014 impressive, despite experiences
Well, the life of a mind controlled multiple personality is not boring! For one thing, all my alters want expression, and that keeps me busy. And the multiple-ness keeps me “forgetting” the disturbing things, at least in my day-to-day consciousness, which keeps me functional; when I read disturbing things I’ve written and remember them, I become less functional – like today.
Hmmm…. Memory or function? Which do we want?
October is not that long ago, but I’m blown away by how many weird things happened in the last few months that I simply forgot!
But first, let’s do something different: I’ll lead with the good stuff instead of the bad. Here are some of the highlights of our year, which I find quite impressive every time I read it!
It’s a long list, so just skim if you want, using my asterisks to read the most important (then I’ll list the weird stuff):
* I performed a dozen times with Greg this year (his collection of folk-rock covers and original Americana – with themes of love, friendship, and home), sometimes out of town, or at our Farmers Market, and at a favorite coffee house, where a few times we presented music by Dylan, Browne, and Young with themes of apocalypse and strange, extra-dimensional events – tied together with my commentary. Much fun!
We attracted two new musical friendships and call our foursome the Southern Rocky Mountain Band. We played a single song (Greg’s original) at the historic Pinos Altos Opera House (a fundraiser for the Wild Gila: Forever Free CD/DVD release party), and we hope to begin playing out and recording more next year.
* In June, I “quit everything” (the most important thing I did all year) – home and garden design, singing, and more – and determined to do nothing but heal my mind and write about it. (More, below, under Health.)
I accepted my Social Security. When asked why I didn’t wait til I was older and would receive more, I said, “All the world’s financiers are making short term decisions. I’m making short-term decisions.” (I didn’t tell the other truth: because I’m damn tired of trying to hold my life together while also working.)
* During six weeks of never singing with Greg or the band, I healed some significant energy blocks, freed my voice significantly, and picked up singing again, then took some voice lessons and made more improvements.
We recorded our original “Lying Here with You” on video, and received great feedback.
In January, I helped Greg launch Silver City Acoustic, showcasing local and touring musicians on our local community radio station. I ran the board and eventually participated in the interviews. We aired the live, 2-hour show for 20-some weeks, interviewing 40-some local and touring musicians and bands. (When the station went off the air for an extended time, we lost momentum.)
I quit my weekly Back to the Garden radio show after 40 weeks – seeing that I’d taken on too much again, and this was not my forte anyway. I like to think I inspired others to say, “I can do that!” Or “I can do better than that!” so they’ll volunteer to fill those airwaves in my place. (It was fun, but I had too much on my plate.)
Home and Garden
We emptied our storage room, sold the last “big stuff,” and cleared a lot of stuck energy. Then we renovated the little 11×20 building into a functional and cheery guest house and studio retreat.
We built a cedar fence around the last of the yard (in front of our next guest house), sporting a curved corner which has garnered very nice compliments, and crafted two beautiful handles for our two front gates.
We turned the also-cluttered sun room into a beautiful sitting space on one side and a functional tool storage on the other.
My Writing and the Cyber World
* I redesigned JeanEisenhower.com to no longer hide my mind control work – and I put it on my business card, and on both I used a photo of me that I’ve avoided using for years because it seemed “too happy.” It’s been a huge psychological shift, though I still worry sometimes when handing out a card.
I renovated my Paradigm Salon website, consolidated pages, made them more accessible, filled in gaps in the information (and increased readership).
I started the Garden Healing Church, addressing natural healing and activism against enforced medicine – as spiritual necessity. The site continues to attract followers, even though I don’t post often.
I got my old laptop repaired and almost functioning with its own modem – for use by the fireplace! Yeah! What a nice way to treat myself!
Family and Friends
* We both reconnected with our parents and families in powerful ways. I even spent 6 days with my parents over the holiday! (First time to spend more than a few hours with them in over 20 years.)
We hosted a few garden parties, and stayed connected with long-distance friends.
* We helped an elderly friend die consciously, working with a wonderful group of volunteers, including nurses, doctors, chaplains, and shamans, making new friends – and supporting his wife. I photographed (and posted) an amazing thing Greg found a couple of days before our friend passed: a dragonfly emerging from its cocoon, into a new life!
I attended my first women’s gathering in years.
Besides designing the guest house, our new fence, two gate handles, our many web sites, photography, videography, audio recording and mixing, and writing, I started knitting again – most satisfying.
* Again: In June, I “quit everything,” and began focusing each day on what I needed to keep myself calm and able to handle life, and instituted new habits and changes to ensure I had what I needed. After six weeks, I came back to singing.
* In October, I created a Notebook/Journal to help me remember and track everything I need to remember on a daily basis, but often forget. I also used a timer every 30 minutes to help me note my activities and improve my time awareness. After a couple of months, I felt I didn’t need that intense reminder every thirty minutes, so I stopped using the timer, but knew it had been an important exercise in becoming more conscious.
I wrote over 300 pages of journal entries over a few short months, rich with new awareness, particularly about mind control and my relationship to it. I expect to post about it soon.
* I just created a new system of reminders to be awake on my iPhone: I created a series of lovely-sounding “alarms” to go off every hour every day (easier than the timer system). They’re all named “Breathe, Gratitude, and Note,” to remind me to breathe, remember what I’m grateful for, ask for guidance, and note it all, with either a journal note, voice memo, or mental note.
I started up at “Curves” again, started drinking daily turmeric tea, and got back to my supplements.
I invented “sludge cake”! – a gluten-free cake made from the precipitate (sludge) from turmeric tea – even when we eat it plain, we crave it – our cells tell us it’s great medicine. My recipe is here.
So, I was feeling like life had turned an important corner toward goodness and freedom – as I couldn’t remember any recent weirdness – until I skimmed over my journals, which I’d designed to make easy to find things by category. But when I looked, I found in my “anomalies” category, a lot of unexplainable experiences, which I’ll group by month:
2nd half of August: 2 “donut” bruises, 1 injection bruise, 2 scratches similar to biopsy scoops, another injection bruise and other bruise.
September: twice “lost time,” extreme energy issues, worsened ringing in ears, flood of “mental movies” (random things like family home movies of people I don’t know) that seem beamed in, big bruise on inner arm, scoop mark, time problem, dark bruise on left leg, hypersensitive patches of skin, 5 more days of severe energy issues, forgetful days, very tired.
October: worsened ringing in ears, movies in head again, heart problems (palpitations, stress, slow heartbeat [61 pbm], extreme weakness, days I thought I was dying), weird sleep cycles, 2 more bruises, one a double (“hypodermic”? or Taser?), one day so speedy I thought they’d given me some pharmaceutical to compensate for something that might have made me tired otherwise, missing time, feeling “out of it” and struggling to do simple things, another bruise. (I know the bruise photos sometimes don’t look like much, but they are so consistent and unexplained.)
November: Very bizarre experience of seeing my hand, while I was writing, as if through a yellow glass, but as if video’d from above my head, then run back into my mind (so I watched my hand writing in this second-person state), felt an “intrusion” of another being into my being, with a sense of goodness and reconnection (or maybe it was just “electronic heroin”), then I lost time and could barely put myself to bed (all one evening with my partner beside me), and my partner had to help me get to bed; another bruise; remembered things too vague to describe and was sick with fear.
And who knows what happened the first part of the year? I haven’t the energy to look through my journals.
Okay, so I’ve got a problem: What to do? What to do when I recognize stuff is going on that is beyond my ability to consciously control or even remember?
This is my ongoing “Do something drastic? or what?” dilemma.
I like life when I have I seem to control my own part of it, but not when I get these hints that someone is highjacking parts of me. Not fun at all.
(It’s the only sad photo of me I’ve seen from childhood. All the rest are “super-cheerful.”)
Are we on the train to New Mexico? (That strange trip my mother took me on which seems so out-of-custom for our family?) For my mind control? After which I have no memories until age 8?
Ugh. How do I keep on? I feel sick. Have been experiencing nausea and anxiety all day now….
How can I keep putting it away as if it didn’t happen? Where is there to hide? Nowhere.
Recently I wrote in my journal about generating the power to control our own minds, thereby wresting control away from “Them.”
Is that even possible? My new million-dollar question….
A few years ago, I tried out Facebook, but quit it after a few months, feeling that something was fishy. And now i find an article that supports my suspicions: http://landdestroyer.blogspot.co.uk/2014/12/facebook-colonialism-20.html
“Facebook has turned its features against users, insidiously manipulating their timelines to show selected posts and updates while “soft censoring” others to manage public perception.”
And that’s only what’s been discovered so far. (And, yes, I know that links were made between Facebook and the CIA years ago, but how Facebook actually distorts information on behalf of the controllers has not, to my knowledge, been studied, tested, or described before now.)
While I was on Facebook, I repressed my desire to post too much “radical” stuff, and just use it to present myself as I am: someone with a wide variety of interests besides mind control – for instance, gardening, home design, art, spirituality, social transformation, etc.
I figured eventually I’d also promote occasional blogs from this site, but I’d emphasize my other aspects of self first.
Immediately, though it seemed that someone behind the scenes was sabotaging me.
Before I go further, let me say that I have excellent face-to-face relationships throughout my community. I perform. I was hired as Executive Director of our local Habitat for Humanity, and I’ve been invited to apply for many other worthy positions in this community. When I walk down the street of this small town, I have numerous happy conversations with folks, sometimes a dozen or more within a few blocks. And I once filled the house with 60 people at a wonderful party. (Yes! …despite having dissociative tendencies – in the process of healing, I like to remind.)
But on Facebook, I had an experience opposite of my face-to-face relationships.
Since things were feeling fishy, I experimented. I posted something and saw it post on my “Wall” and on my “Home” (community) page. Then I logged out and logged back in as my partner, and could not find my post anywhere – until it suddenly showed up 20 minutes later!
When my partner is logged in, we always witness his posts appearing immediately in both places, and they remain there even when we log in as me. We tested this repeatedly and found that his posts always appear immediately, regardless of who is logged in, while my posts showed up immediately only on my page – and took anywhere from 20-60 minutes to show up on his page. What was going on?
I theorized that, as a “targeted individual” (a harassed mind-control subject and activist whistleblower), the controllers have created a special route for my posts, so that they can perform the Brave New World version of COINTELPRO (Counter Intelligence Program) disinformation on them before releasing them into the cybersphere.
What used to take hours or days and multiple agents in the paper-and-typewriters days (explained in humorous detail in this book at right) – but nevertheless was done regularly, even for little-old-lady peace activists – can now be done in a matter of minutes by a single agent with a computer program and individualized instructions for each activist they want to mess with.
(My information comes not only from books like this one, but also by having had undercover agents in my home, as I learned later when those agents testified against a friend at trial; and I also did media work for the “Judi Bari versus FBI” federal trial and was witness to the death threats she received, and we also received during the trial, as well as the discrediting, violence-inciting posters probably created by agents but attributed to this non-violent peace-activist mother of two, who then became the subject of an assassination attempt on her life – probably incited by things like those fake posters. The assassination attempt was covered up for twelve years by the FBI, as all the jurors agreed; the FBI paid a historic $4.4 million to Judi’s estate and her friend who was in the bombed car with her. So, if some judge me “negative,” I believe I have very sound reasons for my opinions of our disinformed world today.)
Some poor federal agent, I assume, sits at a computer all day, doing the newest version of COINTELPRO; s/he receives my posts and other targeted activists’ posts all day long, and as quickly as s/he can, uses individualized guidelines which tell him/her what to do with my communications. Some of my posts may only show up for a small circle of my closest friends, including my partner), so it’s not too obvious, and I do continue to get some response, but only a fraction.
Other posts, I suspect, may be rewritten in any number of ways (as described in the book above) to discredit me or cause rifts in my community, maybe making my posts sound hysterical, stupid, or ultra-angry, when in actuality I’d carefully crafted them to be calm and well-documented; and those hysterical, stupid, or angry rewrites, which someone wrote and credited to me, but which I’ll never see, are sent to everyone outside my closest circles, to people who are highly unlikely to ask me about them, but even if they do, the rewritten posts are on the same topic, so we’re likely never discover the discrepancy. Neat trick in a world where people are isolated by so many constructs of culture, and friendships are often virtual.
I theorized this rewriting because it seemed that, after I got on Facebook, there were changes in my face-to-face meetings with my more-distant acquaintances; it seemed they were turning away from me for no reason. Of course, since they were more distant acquaintances, they weren’t the type I could ask why they seemed to suddenly avoid me. When I got off of Facebook, things went mostly back to normal (until I found some illegal doings in a non-profit I worked for, called them on it, and made some of those people unhappy – oh well).
Now, there is still plenty of radical stuff posted by others on Facebook, but it may all be tainted with disinformation for all we know, and that’s why it’s allowed to go far and wide. Only guessing, but it would fit the pattern and the definition of COINTELPRO.
I miss the idea of Facebook, but I’m convinced it never was what we were promised – unless one is non-political and in no way a threat to the status quo, and then it’s still only half-honest, perhaps delivering that person’s posts as written, but delivering to that person only the posts Facebook and the government wants them to see. Since I challenge the status quo all the time, I believe I was subject to disinformation tactics all my time on Facebook.
And now this study seems to prove my suspicions are right on. Check it out: http://landdestroyer.blogspot.co.uk/2014/12/facebook-colonialism-20.html
Twenty years ago last summer, I became estranged from my parents for seven years, and then for the next thirteen years only saw them for a few hours usually once a year – until last week. For five nights then, I slept in their house and visited, mostly just them and me.
That summer day, I had a rare talk with my sister on the phone. (I’m close to no one in my family.) (I believe it’s part of mind control disinformation to discredit MK subjects within the family and elsewhere, especially when they begin to show signs of remembering. However, I’ve been subject to discrediting for a very long time.)
I asked my sister if she had any weird memories of our childhood, and she said no. But, she told me, she’d just seen a 20/20 television show on the so-called “false memory syndrome,” which she asserted was my problem.
For the record, there is no “syndrome,” by definition: a group of symptoms that consistently occur together or a condition characterized by a set of associated symptoms. There has never been a set or group of symptoms defined for this supposed syndrome.
However, the supposed “syndrome” serves as a cover story for anyone accused of anything, usually sexual crimes. The “false memory syndrome” asserts that the memory was invented by a person who’s mentally unwell, either unable to tell reality from imagination, or hatefully vengeful – which I’ve been called more than once for privately asking my sister the question I did and then, when confronted, recounting my memories – but not blaming my parents, only asking for help understanding.
The backlash of blame and hysteria, even when I recalled other individuals has continued to this day. (Those other individuals were military men. I thought this would relieve my parents of culpability, but it only made them more enraged and intent on proving me “deluded.” Their reaction never made sense until I learned about the military being involved in mind control experiments.)
Before I ever heard about the “false memory syndrome,” my parents began planting doubts in my mind, and in my siblings’ minds, about my ability to tell fantasy from reality. It began when I was a child and my mother told the doctor I had a tremendous imagination and talked to imaginary friends. He told her it was okay, even common, but she continued to tell other people within my hearing. Once, another mother responded that sometimes genius and insanity were hard to tell apart, and I took heart.
In adulthood, one Christmas holiday when everyone was together and we were sharing old stories, I recalled the earliest memory I have, of reaching up to my mother’s hips – I seemed to be barely able to walk, not understanding that she couldn’t pick me up while she cooked dinner, and I fussed. As I proceeded with my story, I realized that the next part of the memory didn’t put Mom in a very good light, but I’d already begun and didn’t know how to end it other than just continue.
Generally, I can’t invent – regardless that Mom has always contended I have – so I recounted the story as casually as I could, knowing that plenty of us have experienced frustration as parents and haven’t been perfect, but assuming we were all then mature enough to understand and not judge harshly, but today I wish I had not said it:
As I fussed and reached up to her hips, Mom threw down the spatula she was using at the stove and screamed, “I can’t take it anymore! I’m leaving, and I’m not coming back!” Then she stormed out the door and left me standing alone in the quiet tiny kitchen of their student housing dorm. I was terrified.
I knew that I needed a mother, and I thought I’d have to go outside to solicit another one. I imagined an expanse of concrete – common on the campus, of course – and imagined reaching up my arms to other women walking across the expanse, but in my mind’s eyes they were all busy and walking too fast. Only one in my imagination paused and considered me for a moment, then kept on walking.
I wailed and crawled to hide in the space between the red brocade chair and the wall – but when I gasped my next breath with my face in the upholstery, microscopic pieces of fiber and dust burned my nose and I cried harder.
Suddenly someone was pulling me out and I was surprised to see that my mother had returned. She then tried to assure me she’d never leave me, but I was wary. Even at that age, I guarded my heart from being so terrified again. I let her hug me, but recall no feeling of comfort. Only relief that the terror of aloneness was now gone.
Of course, I only told the bare bones of the story, omitting my imagination and tears, very sorry I hadn’t thought ahead and cut it shorter.
“Oh, I would never do that!” my mother huffed.
I tried to redirect attention from this aspect and turn it back to what I’d meant to be my point – that we can remember things from our very young years – which for some reason I was then absolutely fascinated by.
I grabbed a paper napkin and sketched. “The front door was here, almost directly behind someone standing at the stove. The wall next to the front door had glass you can’t see through. And just left of the stove began the carpet, and the red chair was here, at an angle.”
“You couldn’t remember that! You were only 14 months old when we moved away from there,” she countered, gesturing at my map, as if she’d proven me wrong.
But her face and her gesture told me I’d mapped those items correctly. “Mom, you just indicated that I drew the floor plan correctly.”
Her face went slack as if horrified. She rose from the table, mute, walked to a window where she stared out and said something, I realized with a shock, that I’d heard her say a few times before, and always in the same lilting, trance-like, sing-song voice, as if she’d said it to herself a thousand times, maybe to comfort herself, or maybe to practice saying it casually, “I’ve always said… you had a vivid imagination… and you mixed up your dreams… with memories.”
A sensation of memory was triggered somewhere deep inside me. Something was disturbed. Something felt a little sick. My mother had just sounded like a person in a trance. Why? Why would she go into a trance like that? Did she have a terrible memory herself of those times?
I felt terrible for hurting her feelings. And at the time, I thought it was impossible that my mother would do anything to hurt any of us, so I assumed she was beating herself up unnecessarily for something that couldn’t have been all that bad. Certainly not just walking out on me that day. Was there something else?
I tried to imagine the worst that could have happened if she were totally pushed over the edge with multiple stresses – and imagined locking me in a closet for awhile – that was as bad as I could imagine – and I thought, “Forgiven!” No problem. See, I’m fine now. I’m totally fine.
I know how terribly hard life can be, and can imagine it was infinitely worse back in the 50s when wives took a vow before God and all to obey their husbands. And I know I’ve hurt my kids in ways I didn’t mean to when I was exhausted and ran out of patience. I understand imperfection. And I understand forgiveness. Whatever it was that she was so haunted by, I thought, It’s okay, and I wanted her to forgive herself.
I hoped I’d find some private time to tell her, but I never did. We all went on with our lives for years, decades now, and those words were never spoken.
Decades later, I would learn that the campus on which I’d lived the first year-plus of my life was the home of the Society for Investigation of Human Ecology, a front for CIA mind control experiments.
Of course, a generic type of mind control is nearly impossible to avoid in America, but there’s also an intense, Above-Top-Secret version, the subject of two Senate hearings in the 1970s, which resulted in the program being strongly criticized, after which it was not ended, as promised, but simply shifted further outside government accountability into the world of Special Access Projects, part of the nation’s Black Budget.
The subjects of these experiments have been mostly American and Canadian children and adults in certain demographic groups, including military recruits, members of certain churches, orphans, children in Indian schools, members of secret societies, and special bloodlines, among others.
I fit into at least four demographics that come up frequently among other former subjects who remember their mind control. I’m an Eisenhower; my father had done his tour in the Navy; my mother was a “fallen away” Mormon; and my father’s father was a 33rd degree Mason.
I imagine now my mother reacting, not to a fussy child, but to a child that, through coercion, had been recruited into a government program that she must then cooperate with. Maybe they paid my parents. Maybe they blackmailed them somehow. Maybe they said I’d be serving my nation, and as a benefit I’d be made disciplined, obedient, smart, and successful. Maybe my parents had regrets, but I imagine they had no power to change the course of their agreement with this secret network.
Later, I’d realize something else that might have made me of interest to mind controllers. I was born on July 7, 1952, the seventh day of the seventh month of the year ’52, which adds up to seven. It was a Monday (Moon Day), in the middle of Cancer, also known as Moon Child, on the Full Moon. Not only that, but the time was 4:25 a.m., just 8 minutes before the precise moment of the Full Moon, at 4:33 a.m. That’s within 2/1,000ths of a degree of perfection. I’ve been told these elements are extremely attractive to Satanists, who are supposedly also involved with secret societies.
I assume my parents were innocent victims, like me. I lost two years of my life in amnesia and a lifetime of mental coherence – in exchange for obedience, discipline, and certain sorts of high-level intelligence. And my parents lost their natural relationship with their little daughter.
Virtually no one knew about mind control in America back then. It was a time of great optimism. America was riding high.
I imagine my mother was given the repeated phrase, much like Ewen Cameron gave his MK subjects in the true story and movie, “The Sleep Room“*: “Just tell her: ‘I’ve always said you had a vivid imagination. And you mixed up your dreams with memories.'”
And she said it to herself so many times, it became part of the sing-song trance that kept her going. It was cruel, cruel, cruel, to her and my father, and to me.
* (Entire movie free on YouTube at the link. Hard to watch at points, but important history.)
Be strong. And practice compassion for all of the parents who were coerced.
PS Newest research discovery from Wikileaks:
From the “Top 25 Stories of 2014 Subjected to Press Censorship” – with my story and response – JE
7. FBI Dismisses Murder Plot against Occupy as NSA Cracks Down on Dissent (For full story, click here)
In October 2011, when the Occupy movement arrived in Houston, protesters were subject to local and federal surveillance, infiltration by police provocateurs, and police assault. Months later, a document obtained in December 2012 from the Houston FBI office shows that the agency was aware of a plot to assassinate Occupy movement leaders—and did nothing about it. And in Arizona, law enforcement collaborated with JP Morgan Chase CEO Jamie Dimon divulging Occupy plans. The CEO claimed he was simply avoiding possible protests, and local law enforcement was happy to help. Government documents from the National Security Agency and other government offices revealed a grim mosaic of ‘counter-terrorism’ operations and negative attitudes toward activists and other citizens.
Sources: Dave Lindorff, “FBI Document—‘[DELETED]’ Plots to Kill Occupy Leaders’,” WhoWhatWhy article, June 27, 2013. Beau Hodai, “Dissent or Terror,” Center for Media and Democracy’s SourceWatch/DBA Press, May 2013. Alex Kane, “How America’s National Security Apparatus—in Partnership With Big Corporations—Cracked Down on Dissent,” AlterNet report, May 21, 2013.
I used to be a radical activist, and I’m here to say it’s not for the naive, or for mind control subjects.
Thank Goodness, I only went to jail twice (for civil disobedience both times), but in 1992, I was Tasered while in the Durango Jail (during a peaceful drumming-and-dancing protest against Amoco drilling in critical Elk habitat) and have no memory of most of the afternoon or any of the evening. I was woken up near midnight and made to sit in a chair for hours while they pretended to be processing me out, but all they did was wake me every time I fell asleep. After that I remember sleeping, huddled, very cold, on a hard floor because they released me at 4 am and lied that no one had left me any message or phone number to call, so I had no idea where to go in the unfamiliar town, and it was very cold outdoors in Durango at that dark hour, even in the summer. I remember someone finding me and leading me out, but I don’t remember the breakfast where I was told we all met that morning.
Two years earlier, I’d wanted to do activist media work like Judi Bari; then she was car-bombed in an assassination attempt that a jury trial would later find the FBI guilty of numerous crimes related to the assassination attempt: not investigating it, slandering the activists who survived, and other charges. Judi was terribly wounded and needed a wheelchair the rest of her shortened life.
The year before that, two friends were framed by an agent who pretended to be on our side. He and an informer had been in our house on a number of occasions, pretending to be friends. A second FBI informer we’d seen at a gathering once; on trial, he talked about thinking of “pulling a Rambo” and gunning down all of us.
My friend, Peg Millet, a horse whisperer and defender of sacred places, went to prison for five years because the agent egged her on to commit an act against a nuclear power plant (rather than the symbolic act against a water pumping station in the wilderness), and even though she rejected his ideas repeatedly, just “conversing” with him was enough to be found guilty of nuclear terrorism!
It’s a mixed comfort to read the item at top for confirmation that someone notices and will report that we are all treated horrifically (it’s not just me!) just for demanding that certain laws be obeyed – laws that defend life on Earth.
My story is far from unique and could probably be matched a thousand times or more by people across this nation, working on labor, race, education, surveillance, health, and many other issues.
And this is just one of “25 Top Stories” of stuff going all wrong in this nation. Check out the stories that the Media is not telling you. I dare you. ;}
First journaling in a while. Feel like I need to scream. Been worrying about how to read the signs (since I sometimes avoid prayer and contemplation – some programming that hits sometimes) especially when things go wrong like they have today.
I realize: All the “figuring” is a very basic part of my mind control; I need, instead, to remember during hard times to listen to the quiet things, use my intuition. And I need to rout out the programming that tells me I don’t have time for prayer and contemplation.
AND NOW I GET IT: “Rise and shine! Up and at ‘em! Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed!” – the waking I received from my mother nearly every morning of my life, the same three always-cheerful commands, every day, one after the other – was a major part of my programming – delivered by my handler-mom – of course, programmed herself.
telling me: Take no time for reflection, no time for yourself.
I will not do that anymore. Rise and shine. Up and at ’em. Bright-eyed and Bushy-Tailed. It never occurred to me that it was part of my programming, but I think now that it was. Work. Work. Work.
My mother’s father was killed when she was eight, during the Great Depression. Her parents were working as itinerant farm worker and construction worker. Now a penniless widow, her mother leased an ice cream sidewalk store, became famous for her sandwiches on fresh homemade bread, and parlayed it all into a successful restaurant and bakery with dining room, patio, walk-up window, and conference rooms. She catered to a group of bankers and developers, one of whom treated her like a mind control slave. While she worked to build the business, my mother and her sister spent a lot of time with their Mormon uncles.
I remember him coming to walk with her every day at a prescribed time. My mother was impressed about this, as I heard her speak of it a couple of times. Each day, my grandmother sat in view of the front door when he was due and rose immediately, cutting off conversation when he appeared. “And she never has told anyone what he says to her,” my mother remarked, as if this was impressive and not disturbing. Once, we walked with her to meet him, but he said little or nothing to us and walked straight away with my grandmother.
The programming: Give yourself no time for contemplation. We will give you precepts and our logic derived from them, and teach you how to prioritize and organize.
I think I’m doing better than most Americans because I don’t buy their consumerism, politics, or religion, but I’m still programmed to be productive and not waste time – which sounds like a good thing, but robs us of contemplation.
That’s why I’ve felt like screaming. Seven stressors hit in the last two weeks, and I kept my cool and performed on Sunday. Monday, I was tired, but I was so bothered by the desk piled high and our desire to post a recording that I forced myself ahead and had dreams all night long about my most un-fun subject: aliens. All night long. That’s a first. Then today, I worked hard on my home refinancing, and at the end of the day I was ready to scream. Actually, I had a response I’ve had a few times in my life, when anxiety is very high: like screaming, throwing up, and falling-down all at once.
But it’s been good, because a see a new aspect of the Big Lie now: Productivity. I think I was put into a number of programs, one of which was to be highly productive and manage complicated tasks. It’s been useful. But it has also made me so tightly focused when I work it’s hard to be social, as I need to switch parts, which is doable, but sometimes slow and awkward. I feel like a fancy experimental race car with a phenomenal engine and a tricky transmission.
But I’m healing that transmission, little by little. It’s been a bumpy road with set-backs when I’ve felt worse rather than better, but mostly I know I’m better, despite days like today. Today was a hard lesson day. I learned the consequence of taking on too much. Again.
I should never push that hard, unless it’s really important. I have to take care of my heart and whole health. So I need to make more than a commitment.
I need to change things in my environment to support my commitment, so that I have constant reinforcement to evolve, change, or rout out the programming and habit of my lifetime.
From now on, each morning I will give myself time in bed to record my dreams and thoughts, and decide what’s most important. I’ll take time to listen for any alters’ opinions, so no one’s left out and everyone’s needs are met. (That way, no one needs to act out to get attention, or have a heart attack, or get sick or depressed.) We’ll find our center, cooperate better, and not get confused so readily.
Morning will be sacred time, for being still. Productivity will just have to wait.
When I rise, I’ll walk slowly to heat my turmeric tea. I’ll sit in the most comfortable place in the house.
I’ll make myself a new journal with nice, functional paper (not these one-side-already-used recycled sheets others would throw away, but something that will honor my words) inside a beautiful, meaningful cover. I’ll keep a nice bed shawl nearby and pillow for my neck.
The scream has gone.
I’ll return again to listening to my Wise Self and break another bit of programming. Back to Center.
Blessings on You All ~
Reposted from: http://warisacrime.org/content/defeating-violence-psychiatry
By – Posted on 12 September 2014
Psychiatry is based on a delusional conception of how the human mind works and what is needed in order to assist it to function optimally when it is not doing so. This is because the purpose of psychiatry, with the complicity of other professions in the ‘mental health’ field and the incredibly profitable pharmaceutical industry, as well as the support of the legal system and the corporate media in promoting this violence, has always been about profits and elite social control, not restoring the health of the ailing individual.
The human mind consists of many interacting components. These include sensory capacities (such as sight, hearing and touch), feelings (such as thirst, hunger, nausea and physical pain), memory, ‘truth register’, intuition, conscience, more feelings (such as fear, happiness, emotional pain, joy, anger, satisfaction, sadness and sexual arousal), and intellect.
Each of these capacities is separately important but, in a healthy individual, it is their integrated functioning that is used to crystallize the appropriately precise behavioral option in any given circumstance. If any one of these capacities is not functioning as evolution intended, the individual will suffer accordingly and this might result in a dysfunctional behavioral outcome as well.
Dysfunctional behavior is caused by terrorizing an individual during childhood so that the integrated functioning of their mind is impeded. This occurs when you inflict ‘visible’, ‘invisible’ and ‘utterly invisible’ violence on a child in order to make them do what you want. This violence forces the child to suppress their awareness of the mental processes, especially the feelings, that generated the original and functional behavior so that they can comply with your violence. But their obedience comes at the price of their increased dysfunctionality in the future. For a full explanation of this, see ‘Why Violence?’ and ‘Fearless Psychology and Fearful Psychology: Principles and Practice’.
However, if instead of identifying and addressing the violent social conditions that lead to emotional and behavioural dysfunction, we attribute any dysfunctionalities to a supposed ‘diseased brain’, ‘flawed genes’ or a ‘chemical imbalance in the brain’, then we open the door to psychiatric violence under the label ‘treatment’. See, for example, Anatomy of an Epidemic: Magic Bullets, Psychiatric Drugs, and the Astonishing Rise of Mental Illness in America, ‘Psychocracy and Community’ and ‘12 Shocking Facts About the Dangers of Psychiatric Drugs’. And this psychiatric violence has catastrophic consequences for society. For some insight into the nature and extent of these consequences – which include dramatically increased violence, suicide and criminal behaviour – see the work of Dr Peter R. Breggin – ‘the conscience of psychiatry’ – whose research includes his ‘probing critique of the psychopharmaceutical complex’. See Medication Madness: The Role of Psychiatric Drugs in Cases of Violence, Suicide, and Crimeand The Conscience of Psychiatry: The Reform Work of Peter R. Breggin, MD.
In fact, according to the lengthy research of Peter Gøtzsche, MD, in the USA ‘prescription drugs are the third leading cause of death after heart disease and cancer’ and it ‘is inescapable that their availability creates more harm than good’. See ‘On Pharma, Corruption, and Psychiatric Drugs’ and ‘Deadly Medicines and Organised Crime: How Big Pharma Has Corrupted Health Care’. And according to Dr Philip Hickey ‘all psychiatric drugs operate by creating a pathological state within the organism… [They] are toxic in and of themselves regardless of dosage.’ See ‘The Use of Neuroleptic Drugs As Chemical Restraints’.
According to the ‘bible’ of the American Psychiatric Association (APA), the ‘Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders’ (the DSM), there are roughly 300 officially certified and distinct ‘mental disorders’. But there are no defining physical tests to diagnose any of them. However, given the publication of the DSM is worth over $5 million a year to the APA, historically totalling over $100 million, there is little organisational interest in validity. See ‘Not Diseases, but Categories of Suffering’ .
In fact, as Dr Bonnie Burstow has pointed out: ‘while psychiatry has been claiming for a very long time that people who are “disordered” have chemical imbalances and frequently reiterate that imbalances have been found, the reality is that no imbalances have ever been established for a single “mental illness”. By contrast, the various treatments of psychiatry (e.g., the drugs, electroshock) have been demonstrated to create illness.’ See ‘On Antipsychiatry’.
In short, there is no scientific basis for psychiatry and this is occasionally admitted even by prominent psychiatrists. See, for example, ‘Psychiatry Now Admits It’s Been Wrong in Big Ways – But Can It Change?’ In fact, on 29 April 2013, the highest ranking federal ‘mental health’ official in the USA, Thomas Insel, stated that ‘While DSM has been described as a “Bible” for the field, it is, at best, a dictionary, creating a set of labels and defining each…. The weakness is its lack of validity. Unlike our definitions of ischemic heart disease, lymphoma, or AIDS, the DSM diagnoses are based on a consensus about clusters of clinical symptoms, not any objective laboratory measure.’ And in a candid moment some years earlier, Allen Frances, the lead editor of the fourth edition of the DSM, highlighted the real depth of the problem: ‘there is no definition of a mental disorder. It’s bullshit. I mean, you just can’t define it’. See ‘Inside the Battle to Define Mental Illness’.
But such occasional candid admissions do not lead to change for several reasons: many individual psychiatrists are ignorant of their own ignorance (simply believing, as most people have been terrorised into believing, what they were taught at school and in subsequent training courses) and, of course, institutional forces and profits ensure that such comments are suppressed by the psychiatric, pharmaceutical and media industries ensuring that they do not get through to the public.
Tragically, psychiatry has long been used to inflict violence on targeted populations. See ‘Political Abuse of Psychiatry – An Historical Overview’. Perhaps the best known of these historical examples were the use of psychiatry to justify and help perpetrate the euthanasia programs of the Nazi regime – see ‘Psychiatry during the Nazi era: ethical lessons for the modern professional’ – and the violence within the Soviet Gulag: see ‘Political Abuse of Psychiatry in the Soviet Union and in China: Complexities and Controversies’. But a more recent version of this type of psychiatric violence was the Federal Violence Initiative started in the US in 1992. According to Dr John Breeding: ‘This initiative includes ongoing “research” into the supposed biological basis of inner-city violence and includes proposals for biomedical social control. The US government asks “Are Black People Genetically Violent?” and plans a psychiatric screening program which would lead to mass drugging of innocent inner-city children, the vast majority of whom are young people of color.’ See The Necessity of Madness and Unproductivity: Psychiatric Oppression or Human Transformation.
However, the violence of psychiatry is now at epidemic proportions given its dramatic expansion in recent decades. It includes experiments conducted on unknowing military personnel and soaring soldier and veteran suicides because of use of psychiatric drugs – see ‘The Hidden Enemy: Inside Psychiatry’s Covert Agenda’ – complicity in the development of torture techniques for use on political prisoners – see ‘The Story of Mitchell Jessen & Associates: How a Team of Psychologists in Spokane, WA, Helped Develop the CIA’s Torture Techniques’ – the use of psychiatric violence to force false confessions from prisoners of war – see‘U.S. Drugged Detainees to Obtain FALSE Confessions’ – the use of psychiatry to imprison political activists – see ‘Are People Being Thrown Into Psychiatric Wards For Their Political Views?’ – the psychiatric definition of people who have a personal viewpoint at variance with elite interests – labelled ‘oppositional defiant disorder’ (ODD) – as mentally ill – see ‘Psychiatrists now say non-conformity is a mental illness: only the sheeple are “sane”’ – and now the violent psychiatric ‘management’ of children – see ‘The Proactive Search for Mental Illnesses in Children’ (part one) and (part two) – and even babies: see ‘Watchdog Says Report of 10,000 Toddlers on ADHD Drugs Tip of the Iceberg – 274,000 0-1 Year Olds and 370,000 Toddlers Prescribed Psychiatric Drugs’.
Of course, pregnant women and nursing mothers don’t escape psychiatric violence either although groups such as ‘Moms & Meds’campaign to raise awareness of the health and death risks from psychiatric ‘medication’ to the mother and unborn child. And, as you no doubt expect by now, older people, predominantly women, aren’t spared drugging and electroshocking either. Fortunately, in the USA, once a person reaches 65 their electroshocking is paid for by the government which means that, at this age, the number of people diagnosed as requiring electroshocking jumps enormously! See The Necessity of Madness and Unproductivity: Psychiatric Oppression or Human Transformation.
But if you think drugging pregnant women, children and babies is bad, did you know that psychiatrists still electroshock children as well? And ‘electroconvulsive therapy’ is ‘never necessary’, damages the brain, always causes memory loss and sometimes kills! See ‘Electroshocking Children: Why It Should Be Stopped’. Obviously, psychiatrists should not be electroshocking adults either and some organisations actively campaign to end this practice too. See, for example, The Coalition for the Abolition of Electroshock in Texas.
And, of course, psychosurgery, in which ‘a small piece of brain is destroyed or removed’ – ‘irreversible brain mutilation’ as it has been called – is still performed in many countries despite the very long campaign to get it stopped. See, for example, the 1982 article ‘The Return of Lobotomy and Psychosurgery’. ‘In lobotomy and psychosurgery parts of the brain that show no demonstrable disease are nonetheless mutilated or cut out in order to affect the individual’s emotions and personal conduct.’ Despite its horror history, recent ‘justifications’ for ‘irreversible brain mutilation’ are readily found.
The bottom line is this: Most psychiatrists, like most people, are terrified of listening to your feelings (and especially when they are driving dysfunctional behaviour and might need considerable time for healing to occur). This is the inevitable outcome of being terrified of feeling their own feelings. Feelings won’t hurt you; suppressing your awareness of them with drugs, electroshocking or other violence will. Feelings are a vital part of the information your body gives you; feeling these feelings is the way you heal from traumas (great or small) and a vital source of information about what you need to do.
If, like me, you are nauseated by the cowardice and violence of the psychiatrists, doctors, other ‘mental health professionals’ and the pharmaceutical industry personnel who so readily damage our emotional health for the sake of elite social control and personal profit, then you have a simple choice: you can choose to never consult a psychiatrist or other ‘mental health professional’ and you can choose to never subject your child to their violence either. And if you are forced into involuntary psychiatric ‘care’, you can choose to remain silent and pursue avenues for being released.
In the end, even if they forcibly drug you, you have a considerable chance of making a full recovery from this (hopefully short-term) violence. (For expert assistance in withdrawing from psychiatric drugs, check out Gerson Therapy, Psychiatric Drug Withdrawal: A Guide for Prescribers, Therapists, Patients and their Families, Point of Return and the International Coalition for Drug Awareness) Unfortunately, recovery from the brain damage that results from forced electroshocking is far less likely – but for an inspirational account by someone who did survive and fully recover from psychiatric violence, including brain electrocution, you can read Ronald Bassman’s evocative account ‘Never Give Up’ – and recovery from psychosurgery is effectively impossible.
You might also consider joining the movement to abolish psychiatry – see, for example, opportunities outlined in ‘On Fighting Institutional Psychiatry With the “Attrition Model”’ – as well as signing the online pledge of the worldwide movement to end all violence ‘The People’s Charter to Create a Nonviolent World’.
Some people have argued that psychiatry should be reformed. But any experienced nonviolent activist knows that psychiatry, like other manifestations of violence (such as domestic violence, economic exploitation, slavery, ecological destruction and war) cannot be ‘reformed’. We must work for abolition.
Finally, value your emotional health extremely highly. An empathic listener can help you feel your way through those times when you need to feel the sadness, pain, fear, anger and other valuable feelings that evolution gave you to enable a full recovery from the inevitable traumas of life. (Although the information is directed at soldiers who have been traumatised by war, the process as outlined in this article applies to anyone who needs emotional support to recover from difficult life experiences, however ‘trivial’: see ‘An Open Letter to Soldiers with “Mental Health” Issues’.)
If you don’t allow yourself to feel and express the so-called ‘negative’ feelings, you will soon find that your emotional responses to the joys of life will be unconsciously suppressed too.
And life without feelings is not life: it is ‘flatlining’.
Biodata: Robert has a lifetime commitment to understanding and ending human violence. He has done extensive research since 1966 in an effort to understand why human beings are violent and has been a nonviolent activist since 1981. He is the author of‘Why Violence?’ His email address is firstname.lastname@example.org and his website is here.
Besides, things evolve. And I suddenly realized I felt a need to tell someone that I’m – and here’s where I realized I needed a better phrase than “old hippie,” and I hit upon – a “minimalist activist-artist” (MAA).
Here’s my definition of a MAA: We were swept up by the inspiration that life was to be lived.
We weren’t sure how long the world’s systems would survive, as we’d trained as children to kneel under our desks, preparing for the world’s destruction. Then we saw cartoons of business men running on treadmills or rat wheels, and I felt I understood, even as a child.
We were warned that if we didn’t work harder and contribute into the system, we’d be hard pressed to live much above poverty level, but we didn’t really believe the system was sustainable, so why invest in it? Besides, the alternatives looked so appealing.
We wanted to go back to the land, work with the cycles of nature, touch plants and animals, create something tangible, useful, and beautiful that would benefit the world into the future. We tried to do that. Some were successful.
But some of us were blown off our centers, fragile as we were as young adults in mind-controlled America. We met up with cons and other dangerous people. We had experiences that changed us forever.
Both my partner and I, before we met, began building our own homes by hand with hopes for the country life, family, and friends nearby, and gardens to feed and heal us. With dreams underway, both our spouses – good people – connected up with aggressive cocaine dealers, who helped them maneuver our children (all around the ages at which mind control programming is begun) away from us, mine for two years (exactly the length of time for typical programming), and his for the remainder of their childhoods. Was this itself a program? To “get” to our children? Or just a coincidence?
My memoir, RattleSnake Fire – and my life – is filled with disturbing weirdness like this. And a few events are so terrifying I’ve never told them to anyone or even written them down. (Having my children stolen, as shocking as that is, is not the scariest thing that’s happened to me.) All together, it’s blown my life sideways and made it difficult to accomplish either my own dreams or social demands.
Besides not being inspired to follow the rat race, I wonder if I’m at fault in other ways. Psychologically speaking, I know my parents never had any expectations of me except that I marry a college-educated man. When I ran away from home and eventually became a divorced single-mother back in college (in Radio-TV, hoping to do radio reporting for a radical news station), their greatest hope was that I’d graduate to be a weather girl.
All my life I’ve been drawn to defend the oppressed, beginning in kindergarten where I defended the child who was being bullied. As an adult I took an active role in the first Cincinnati Peace Conference and teachers’ peace workshops as an organizer. I attended a church that welcomed all races and sexual orientations, and supported peace and environmental issues. I played a major role in saving Tucson’s downtown inner-city grade school that anchored a large multi-generational Hispanic population in a large historic district coveted by business developers (we saved it!). And I worked to save a sacred mountain from a huge astronomy development.
All this cut into income-earning, but it was far more satisfying than any job – and seemed more useful. And I really didn’t believe the economy would maintain itself this long.
So, I was wrong. Now what?
I still don’t expect the economy to last long, but as long as it lasts, we’ve got to last. And I still have the same attitude toward work, now with less energy and physical strength (at age 62). I believe I’ve given enough of my heart and soul and sweat to make the world and my community a much better place, and as an older person I think I should be supported. Unfortunately, our laws are more complicated than that.
My partner has had a similar view most of his life too, so we both have very modest Social Security checks. We qualify for food stamps and are grateful for them. And we sing and he paints houses for extra cash. And so, like many Americans, we get by in a minimalist way.
I wish we’d been able to create those utopias, and had our farms paid for, and our gardens feeding and healing us, but we weren’t. And we’ve all been herded back to town, like sheep.
We never had a chance, really. We’d been educated to believe anything was possible (even outside the rat race), politics and economics were honest, and hard work would get a person anywhere. And we believed it. MAA.
– another injection bruise
– UFO movie with my folks – on the New Moon
– 20th Anniversary of the family’s Big Rift – and hope for break-through
I almost ignored the injection bruise that appeared on Tuesday, the same day Greg woke wondering why his lower back was out. Denial was attractive, as other than this, life was feeling mellow and productive. Neither of us has any explanation for our injuries, except that this sort of thing occurs to me all the time (this sort of small, point-like bruise appearing a few times a month or more). And various injuries occur regularly to subjects of alien abduction and mind control (which Greg is not comfortable assuming relates to him at all, though I consider it a decent theory for him as well as me).
Acknowledging aliens – or CIA – I do, but hate to do for a number of reasons. But since denial is not useful, healing, or survival behavior, I accepted a kick in the butt Saturday night when I watched a documentary about aliens with my parents – with whom I’ve had an uncomfortable partial-estrangement for just a little over 20 years.
[Skip the next three paragraphs to skip family drama.]
(The estrangement, if you’re interested, was caused when I was 42 and having a spiritual crisis [or nervous breakdown] coming to terms with flashbacks of having been sexually abused as a child, but not yet realizing it had anything to do with mind control, and much less aliens and/or CIA. Sexual abuse alone was more than I could handle.
(I asked my sister if she had any memories of sexual abuse from our childhood, and she, having just seen a 20/20 program on the “false memory syndrome” [psychological disinformation], became immediately indignant and, despite knowing little, scolded me that I was mistaken. Then, without asking more, she told my brother I’d accused our father of sexual abuse. My brother assumed I’d accused my parents directly and called them to offer consolation and support.
(They became enraged, and we didn’t speak very much for the next seven years, and the thirteen years since have been little better, very tense. My father has wanted me to exonerate him to the family, but I’ve told him I can’t because I really don’t know, and I never made any accusation.)
I began visiting my parents again (at the family’s urging) around 2000, once every year or two, increasing the visits to a few hours twice a year, and last weekend to one full day including an overnight. In all these years, we’ve mostly skirted around the old accusation, and when I became aware (in 2002 and 2004) of mind control and aliens as both somehow involved in sexual trauma, both issues seemed nearly impossible to broach in our barely-functioning relationship.
So last Saturday, my youngest sister set up our folks’ computer to stream movies, then left us to find something to watch – as it was still early and everyone seemed “talked out.” I scanned the documentary section, and when Mom seemed to perk up at The Hidden Hand: Alien Contact and the Government Coverup, I clicked “Play.”.
A moment of panic washed over me when the Time Traveler Productions logo appeared – because I realized this was the film I’d been video-interviewed for in 2008 by the director, James Carman, who’d traveled to this small town just to interview me. A few months later, when his communications got squirrelly and I happened to see a piece of art online being used in pre-promotion, I feared he might be mocking the whole subject, and I certainly didn’t want to be mocked for all the world to see. I requested he exclude my interview, and he said he would. (This documentary is not mockery.)
But in that moment, I wasn’t absolutely sure my face of 6 years ago, in a state of nervous anxiety, wouldn’t suddenly appear, talking about CIA mind control and aliens! It would blindside my parents and put me in a very awkward situation of needing to explain something terrifically complicated on the spot when we all need to sleep. It occurred to me to think of an excuse to turn it off….
But reason prevailed: Carman said he wouldn’t use my interview, and besides, the opening scene looked familiar, and I thought I’d seen it before and was pretty sure I wasn’t in it. I calmed down and we all began watching it together.
The film is very well done (and available to stream online). Over and over, I was moved to see friends and acquaintances I’ve made over the last decade give their testimony as experiencers and researchers, putting their faces and names on the line: Niara Isley, Melissa Reed, Jeremy Vaeni, James Gilliland, Jim Sparks, Whitley Strieber and researchers Paola Harris, Yvonne Smith, and Richard Dolan. I was proud to have almost been counted alongside them.
Surgeon Dr. Lier was included – who’d once invited me to California to have my implants removed at no cost. (Not sure why I didn’t, but he’s passed on now.) I hoped he would impress my veterinarian father – who trusts all doctors far more than me.
Part-way through the video, after the section on sexual procedures, my father announced, “I’ve had all I can take of this” and left to watch the UCLA-USC football game.
When the video was over, I realized something astounding: I could finally offer my parents the closest thing I could to an exoneration!
“Mom, that,” I said, gesturing toward the TV, “I believe, explains my memories of sexual abuse.”
Mom ignored my bombshell statement, but told me about a couple of UFOs she’d seen. I’d never heard this before and responded with interest because multi-generational involvement is a major theme of the alien experience.
And multi-generational involvement is just one section of many addressed in The Hidden Hand (others being: UFO evidence, alien abductions, sexual/reproductive involvement, alien implants, alien-human hybrids, human-military abductions, exopolitics, positive experiences and galactic consciousness).
Since mom’s sighting of a couple of UFO’s strengthens slightly the possibility she’d accept this interpretation of my experiences, I repeated what I’d said: “I hope you’ve heard me here, as I think it’s important for you and Dad to know: That, I believe, explains my memories of sexual abuse.” She changed the subject again, but it was off my chest.
And I realized it’s easier to consider that my parents’ involvement has probably been more complex than them simply deciding to allow the CIA to use me as a child subject, as was my assumption back in 2002, but maybe my subjection came about because they’ve been mind-controlled themselves, and maybe they never gave permission.
I’ve known for decades that both my parents were separated from their parents at about the same age as the years for which I have total amnesia (1st and 2nd grade) – and at about the same ages as my own children were taken from me by my husband and a woman who controlled him – and the age at which other MKULTRA subjects report their memories or amnesia. It all fits just too perfectly the multi-generational theory.
Afterward, I realized it was the evening of the New Moon. And it’s been about 20 years (maybe plus a month or two) since I first asked my sister about sexual abuse and our family entered this terrible 20-year period of disconnect.
It’s possible this video viewing might have opened a door that will allow us to break through this family impasse. The emotional cost to all of us has been terrific; I have been off-and-on suicidal for decades; and I’ve been blamed by all the family for causing our bad relations. It would be nice to get resolution.
At least two of my siblings, I believe, are following my blog (I’ve asked them to, but they haven’t ever chosen to talk to me about it), and I pray they will watch “The Hidden Hand” and talk at least to each other about this.
Alien-government cooperation in mind control of humans is not just a decent theory that might fit, but is a theory that fits very well, with excellent physical documentation collected for years and memories that match the memories of others all over the planet.
Twenty years is long enough for us all to suffer. I hope we can discuss this.
Why? Just look at the extent of our soil collapse, terminator genes, poisoned water, chemtrails, fracking, wars, prisons, racism, surveillance, political charades, media disinformation, mis-education, crazy philosophies, pharmaceutical addictions, mind control, wars – and massive human wage- or other slavery to accomplish it all.
My bigger picture draws from all the history of the Earth – not just the rulers’ history of wars and conquest, which tells us a lot between the lies – but also Gnostic accounts of Archons, Hopi accounts of Kachinas, shamanic animism, Sitchen’s Annunaki, Hebrews’ Jehovah, Christians’ Christ, European folklore, contemporary accounts of star beings, Star Trek’s Prime Directive – almost all of it true or a simplified or degraded story of some real aspect of our world.
In broad terms: The Earth and other planets have been resource extraction sites before. We humans are also resources – just like the controllers are calling us these days. And many of us will probably die in one or a series of cataclysms soon involving those jeopardies I named above – just as histories, geology, and archeology have recorded before, as religions have predicted will happen again, and as Henry Kissinger says would be a good thing soon.
So, engaging in politics today recalls for me the cliche about deck chairs on the Titannic.
And while we’re here, imagine the world we want – and work to make it real – now. We might create community gardens and housing coops here in this dimension, or maybe our efforts will create them in another dimension. Either way.
Many religions say we’ll experience a separation of energies, good and bad into heaven and hell; but I imagine this “harvest” or “rapture” (under many other names as well) like white light naturally bent in a prism (or split by dimensional shift), refracted into different component colors, separated naturally (rather than by doctrine) by our differing light vibrations. In which case, the vibes we give off – the music we make, so to speak – will determine where we go after this.
Designing a better world of our imaginations is natural, our human destiny. So is fighting back when forced to. But political conversations with trained liars? Nah….
To read another essay about watching the documentary, The Abolitionists, which inspired this essay – and more reflections on political activism, click “Political Activism: Why I respect it but can’t do it anymore.”
I’ve long had immense admiration for Frederick Douglas (he’s in all my Almanac publications) because of his eloquence and courage – so the reenactment of that eloquence and courage was thrilling. “I love this man!” I said to myself over and over through the video.
I reconcile my political passivity today with his and others’ dissent with this observation:
In the end, it was clear that “moral ‘suasion,” political activism, even the deaths of many thousands in war, couldn’t change the rulers’ minds. When Abraham Lincoln finally signed the Emancipation Proclamation, the real rulers simply changed the game and created a different sort of slave by way of economic and other social manipulations.
For the next era, our nation experienced wanton lynchings, and today wanton murders by “peace officers” and mass incarceration of slave descendants by the millions into corporate-run work prisons. And people in “undeveloped” countries are our “invisible” slaves today – out of sight, out of mind. And the planet too is treated as slave.
The noble, courageous abolitionists’ error was in believing the rulers of this world had human hearts and could be persuaded to do the right thing. We have more information today.
Everyone in modern civilization living month to month (most Americans) are wage slaves, required to labor (far more than natural humans), often abandoning their children to “educational” institutions, just to eat, have shelter, and stay out of jail.
And new groups of us are mind-control slaves of a sort equally brutal to that which drove the Abolitionists: we are raped, terrorized throughout our lives, and murdered just as surely.
Since politicians are bought, blackmailed, and mind controlled too, politics is a no-win game. Fascinating to watch, but that’s about all.
Still, it is right to speak out, if one can. We might die for our troubles or spend our lives in prison or exile, but speaking out is still right to do.
It defines the world we want to live in. It’s our creative act, our human right. It defines who we are, individually – and the world we’ll enter when we’re freed from this amnesia-inducing dimension.
So I speak out. To readers here, and other audiences, but not to politicians.
I know from personal experience that people who speak out on dangerous subjects sometimes get murdered, like Karla Turner (above) and Judi Bari (a non-violence activist colleague of mine), or threatened with death, like all the abolitionists, or imprisoned for life like so many descendants of slaves today.
I spoke out for decades when I was younger, went to jail twice, was Tasered and made amnesic in jail once, paid the government thousands of dollars to settle my fines, and spent far too many hours away from my children fighting the criminal system. When Judi – whom I’d set as my role model in 1990 – was car bombed that year, I had to rethink it all. Judi and I both still had children at home.
Now I’m 62, and this is what I can do: write, speak, and sing (occasionally about war and throwing over money-changers’ tables).
Keep healing myself.
Imagine a better world.
Treat all life with respect.
And pray for extra-dimensional help with the collapse of this slave-making system – soon.
reposted from: http://releasethetorturereport.com/?code=Kos
If you would like to sign the petition to enter the CIA torture report into the Congressional Record:
The Senate Intelligence Committee’s “torture report” is expected to detail shocking abuse of prisoners at the hands of the CIA during the Bush administration, and even possible CIA lying to Congress.
But seven months after the Senate Intelligence Committee voted overwhelmingly to release the report to the American people, the White House is stonewalling Congress and demanding “redactions”—blacked-out sections and information—before making its contents public.
But there’s a way around that—and before the end of the year, we have a rare chance to make it happen.
Members of Congress have an absolute right to free speech, and a member could enter the report into the Congressional Record in its entirety—just as the Pentagon Papers were in 1971—without fear of prosecution.
Sign the petition to Sen. Mark Udall: If you enter the torture report into the Congressional Record, we’ll have your back.
Our Message to Sen. Mark Udall:
Before leaving office, please submit the Senate Intelligence Committee’s torture report to the Congressional Record. We know that you are considering undertaking this heroic and courageous act, and we and countless others will support you if you choose to do so.
We will deliver a copy of this petition and a list of signers to Sen. Mark Udall, Senate Intelligence Committee Chair Dianne Feinstein and President Obama to make sure our message is heard.
Fight for the Future
Just Foreign Policy
RH Reality Check
Win Without War
Note: When you sign our petition, your name and email address may be provided to one or more of the sponsoring organizations. You may opt out at any time.